#that says something real nasty about her considering the subject matter

[enobariasteeth]

Oh God they’ve got banana fish on Prime video

[ganymedesclock]

These are questions I've had for some while and it's hard to find someone who'll answer with grace. This mostly relates to disabilities (mental or physical) in fiction.

1) What makes a portrayal of a disability that's harming the character in question ableist?

2) Is there a way to write a disabled villain in a way that isn't ableist?

In the circles I've been in, the common conceptions are you can't use a character's disability as a plot point or showcase it being a hindrance in some manner. heaven forbid you make your villain disabled in some capacity, that's a freaking death sentence to a creative's image. I understand historically villains were the only characters given disabilities, but (and this is my personal experience) I've not seen as many disabled villains nowadays, heck, I see more disabled heroes in media nowadays.

Sorry if this comes off as abrasive, I'd really like to be informed for future media consumption and my own creative endeavors.

Okay so the first thing I'm going to say is that while it IS a good idea to talk to disabled people and get their feedback, disabled people are not a monolith and they aren't going to all have the same take on how this goes.

My personal take is biased in favor that I'm a neurodivergent person (ADHD and autism) who has no real experience with physical disabilities, so I won't speak for physically disabled people- heck, I won't even speak for every neurotype. Like I say, people aren't a monolith.

For myself and my own writing of disabled characters, here's a couple of concepts I stick by:

Research is your friend

Think about broad conventions of ableism

Be mindful of cast composition

1. Research is your friend

Yeah this is the thing everybody says, so here's the main bases I try to cover:

What's the story on this character's disability?

Less in terms of 'tragic angst' and more, what kind of condition this is- because a congenital amputee (that is to say, someone who was born without a limb) will have a different relationship to said limb absence than someone who lost their limb years ago to someone who lost their limb yesterday. How did people in their life respond to it, and how did they respond to it? These responses are not "natural" and will not be the same to every person with every worldview. This can also be a great environment to do worldbuilding in! Think about the movie (and the tv series) How To Train Your Dragon. The vikings in that setting don't have access to modern medicine, and they're, well, literally fighting dragons and other vikings. The instance of disability is high, and the medical terminology to talk about said disabilities is fairly lackluster- but in a context where you need every man you possibly can to avoid the winter, the mindset is going to be not necessarily very correct, but egalitarian. You live in a village of twenty people and know a guy who took a nasty blow to the head and hasn't quite been the same ever since? "Traumatic Brain Injury" is probably not going to be on your lips, but you're also probably going to just make whatever peace you need to and figure out how to accommodate Old Byron for his occasional inability to find the right word, stammers and trembles. In this example, there are several relevant pieces of information- what the character's disability is (aphasia), how they got it (brain injury), and the culture and climate around it (every man has to work, and we can't make more men or throw them away very easily, so, how can we make sure this person can work even if we don't know what's wrong with them)

And that dovetails into:

What's the real history, and modern understandings, of this?

This is where "knowing the story" helps a lot. To keep positing our hypothetical viking with a brain injury, I can look into brain injuries, what affects their extent and prognosis, and maybe even beliefs about this from the time period and setting I'm thinking of (because people have had brains, and brain injuries, the entire time!) Sure, if the setting is fantastical, I have wiggle room, but looking at inspirations might give me a guide post.

Having a name for your disorder also lets you look for posts made by specific people who live with the condition talking about their lives. This is super, super important for conditions stereotyped as really scary, like schizophrenia or narcissistic personality disorder. Even if you already know "schizophrenic people are real and normal" it's still a good thing to wake yourself up and connect with others.

2. Think about broad conventions of ableism

It CAN seem very daunting or intimidating to stay ahead of every single possible condition that could affect someone's body and mind and the specific stereotypes to avoid- there's a lot under the vast umbrella of human experience and we're learning more all the time! A good hallmark is, ableism has a few broad tendencies, and when you see those tendencies rear their head, in your own thinking or in accounts you read by others, it's good to put your skeptical glasses on and look closer. Here's a few that I tend to watch out for:

Failing the “heartwarming dog” test

This was a piece of sage wisdom that passed my eyeballs, became accepted as sage wisdom, and my brain magnificently failed to recall where I saw it. Basically, if you could replace your disabled character with a lovable pet who might need a procedure to save them, and it wouldn’t change the plot, that’s something to look into.

Disability activists speak often about infantilization, and this is a big thing of what they mean- a lot of casual ableism considers disabled people as basically belonging to, or being a burden onto, the able-bodied and neurotypical. This doesn’t necessarily even need to have an able neurotypical in the picture- a personal experience I had that was extremely hurtful was at a point in high school, I decided to do some research on autism for a school project. As an autistic teenager looking up resources online, I was very upset to realize that every single resource I accessed at the time presumed it was talking to a neurotypical parent about their helpless autistic child. I was looking for resources to myself, yet made to feel like I was the subject in a conversation.

Likewise, many wheelchair users have relayed the experience of, when they, in their chair, are in an environment accompanied by someone else who isn’t using a chair, strangers would speak to the standing person exclusively, avoiding addressing the chair user. 

It’s important to always remind yourself that at no point do disabled people stop being people. Yes, even people who have facial deformities; yes, even people who need help using the bathroom; yes, even people who drool; yes, even people whose conditions impact their ability to communicate, yes, even people with cognitive disabilities. They are people, they deserve dignity, and they are not “a child trapped in a 27-year-old body”- a disabled adult is still an adult. All of the “trying to learn the right rules” in the world won’t save you if you keep an underlying fear of non-normative bodies and minds.

This also has a modest overlap between disability and sexuality in particular. I am an autistic grayromantic ace. Absolutely none of my choices or inclinations about sex are because I’m too naive or innocent or childlike to comprehend the notion- disabled people have as diverse a relationship with sexuality as any other. That underlying fear- as mentioned before- can prevent many people from imagining that, say, a wheelchair user might enjoy sex and have experience with it. Make sure all of your disabled characters have full internal worlds.

Poor sickly little Tiffany and the Red Right Hand

A big part of fictional ableism is that it separates the disabled into two categories. Anybody who’s used TVTropes would recognize the latter term I used here. But to keep it brief:

Poor, sickly little Tiffany is cute. Vulnerable. How her disability affects her life is that it constantly creates a pall of suffering that she lives beneath. After all, having a non-normative mind or body must be an endless cavalcade of suffering and tragedy, right? People who are disabled clearly spend their every waking moment affected by, and upset, that they aren’t normal!

The answer is... No, actually. Cut the sad violin; even people who have chronic pain who are literally experiencing pain a lot more than the rest of us are still fully capable of living complex lives and being happy. If nothing else, it would be literally boring to feel nothing but awful, and people with major depression or other problems still, also, have complicated experiences. And yes, some of it’s not great. You don’t have to present every disability as disingenuously a joy to have. But make a point that they own these things. It is a very different feeling to have a concerned father looking through the window at his angel-faced daughter rocking sadly in her wheelchair while she stares longingly out the window, compared to a character waking up at midnight because they have to go do something and frustratedly hauling their body out of their bed into their chair to get going.

Poor Sickly Little Tiffany (PSLT, if you will) virtually always are young, and they virtually always are bound to the problems listed under ‘failing the heartwarming dog’ test. Yes, disabled kids exist, but the point I’m making here is that in the duality of the most widely accepted disabled characters, PSLT embodies the nadir of the Victim, who is so pure, so saintly, so gracious, that it can only be a cruel quirk of fate that she’s suffering. After all, it’s not as if disabled people have the same dignity that any neurotypical and able-bodied person has, where they can be an asshole and still expect other people to not seriously attack their quality of life- it’s a “service” for the neurotypical and able-bodied to “humor” them.

(this is a bad way to think. Either human lives matter or they don’t. There is no “wretched half-experience” here- if you wouldn’t bodily grab and yank around a person standing on their own feet, you have no business grabbing another person’s wheelchair)

On the opposite end- and relevant to your question- is the Red Right Hand. The Red Right Hand does not have PSLT’s innocence or “purity”- is the opposite extreme. The Red Right Hand is virtually always visually deformed, and framed as threatening for their visual deformity. To pick on a movie I like a fair amount, think about how in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, the title character is described- “Strong. Fast. Had a metal arm.” That’s a subtle example, but, think about how that metal arm is menacing. Sure, it’s a high tech weapon in a superhero genre- but who has the metal arm? The Winter Soldier, who is, while a tormented figure that ultimately becomes more heroic- scary. Aggressive. Out for blood.

The man who walks at midnight with a Red Right Hand is a signal to us that his character is foul because of the twisting of his body. A good person, we are led to believe, would not be so- or a good person would be ashamed of their deformity and work to hide it. The Red Right Hand is not merely “an evil disabled person”- they are a disabled person whose disability is depicted as symptomatic of their evil, twisted nature, and when you pair this trope with PSLT, it sends a message: “stay in your place, disabled people. Be sad, be consumable, and let us push you around and decide what to do with you. If you get uppity, if you have ideas, if you stand up to us, then the thing that made you a helpless little victim will suddenly make you a horrible monster, and justify us handling you with inhumanity.”

As someone who is a BIG fan of eldritch horror and many forms of unsettling “wrongness” it is extremely important to watch out for the Red Right Hand. Be careful how you talk about Villainous Disability- there is no connection between disability and morality. People will be good, bad, or simply just people entirely separate from their status of ability or disability. It’s just as ableist to depict every disabled person as an innocent good soul as it is to exclusively deal in grim and ghastly monsters.

Don’t justify disabilities and don’t destroy them.

Superpowers are cool. Characters can and IMO should have superpowers, as long as you’re writing a genre when they’re there.

BUT.

It’s important to remember that there is no justification for disabilities, because they don’t need one. Disability is simply a feature characters have. You do not need to go “they’re blind, BUT they can see the future”

This is admittedly shaky, and people can argue either way; the Blind Seer is a very pronounced mythological figure and an interesting philosophical point about what truly matters in the world. There’s a reason it exists as a conceit. But if every blind character is blind in a way that completely negates that disability or makes it meaningless- this sucks. People have been blind since the dawn of time. And people will always accommodate their disabilities in different ways. Even if the technology exists to fix some forms of blindness, there are people who will have “fixable” blindness and refuse to treat it. There will be individuals born blind who have no meaningful desire to modify this. And there are some people whose condition will be inoperable even if it “shouldn’t” be.

You don’t need to make your disabled characters excessively cool, or give them a means by which the audience can totally forget they’re disabled. Again, this is a place where strong worldbuilding is your buddy- a handwave of “x technology fixed all disabilities”, in my opinion, will never come off good. If, instead, however, you throw out a careless detail that the cool girl the main character is chatting up in a cyberpunk bar has an obvious spinal modification, and feature other characters with prosthetics and without- I will like your work a lot, actually. Even if you’re handing out a fictional “cure”- show the seams. Make it have drawbacks and pros and cons. A great example of this is in the series Full Metal Alchemist- the main character has two prosthetic limbs, and not only do these limbs come with problems, some mundane (he has phantom limb pains, and has to deal with outgrowing his prostheses or damaging them in combat) some more fantastical (these artificial limbs are connected to his nerves to function fluidly- which means that they get surgically installed with no anesthesia and hurt like fuck plugging in- and they require master engineering to stay in shape). We explicitly see a scene of the experts responsible for said limbs talking to a man who uses an ordinary prosthetic leg, despite the advantages of an automail limb, because these drawbacks are daunting to him and he is happier with a simple prosthetic leg.

Even in mundane accommodations you didn’t make up- no two wheelchair users use their chair the exact same way, and there’s a huge diversity of chairs. Someone might be legally blind but still navigate confidently on their own; they might use a guide dog, or they might use a cane. They might even change their needs from situation to situation!

Disability accommodations are part of life

This ties in heavily to the previous point, but seriously! Don’t just look up one model of cane and superimpose it with no modifications onto your character- think about what their lifestyle is, and what kind of person they are!

Also medication is not the devil. Yes, medical abuse is real and tragic and the medication is not magic fairy dust that solves all problems either. But also, it’s straight ableism to act like anybody needing pills for any reason is a scary edgy plot twist. 

(and addiction is a disease. Please be careful, and moreover be compassionate, if you’re writing a character who’s an addict)

3. Be mindful of cast composition

This, to me, is a big tip about disability writing and it’s also super easy to implement!

Just make sure your cast has a lot of meaningful disabled characters in it!

Have you done all the work you can to try and dodge the Red Right Hand but you’re still worried your disabled villain is a bad look? They sure won’t look like a commentary on disability if three other people in the cast are disabled and don’t have the same outlook or role! Worried that you’re PSLT-ing your main character’s disabled child? Maybe the disability is hereditary and they got it from the main character!

The more disabled characters you have, the more it will challenge you to think about what their individual relationship is with the world and the less you’ll rely on hackneyed tropes. At least, ideally.

-

Ultimately, there’s no perfect silver bullet of diversity writing that will prevent a work from EVER being ableist, but I hope this helped, at least!

[outerbankspreferences]

Love Story - JJ Maybank

Request: Anonymous said:A jj imagine where the reader and him are secretly dating cause she’s a kook but she has a “fake” (rafe doesn’t think it’s fake and wants it to be real) relationship with rafe because their parents made them date for the family buisness or whatever and rafe catches them meeting up one night or something and he tells her parents and they go and get her and she fights to be with him??? (Sorry Ik it’s super long lol)

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 6485

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to post, but I’ve been going through some stuff and working, but I hope you enjoy this, Plus this is the longest fic I’ve ever written.

  We were both young when I first saw you I close my eyes and the flashback starts I'm standin' there On a balcony in summer air See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns See you make your way through the crowd And say, "Hello" Little did I know

  You were stuck at another Kook event hosted by the country club your parents attend. Your parents were one of the wealthier families in the Outer banks. Your father was the district attorney, and your mother was an accomplished writer. You always hated the flashy money lifestyle they lived, finding it completely fake. The only other family that came closer to yours were the Cameron’s’. Ward and Rose Cameron had plenty of businesses and investments which helped them claim high status on the Figure Eight.

 It’s didn’t surprise anyone how close the two families were. You and Sarah were close friends considering you were the same age. You and Sarah bonded over many shopping trips and getaways. You weren’t as close with her other siblings, finding Wheezie annoying and Rafe stuck up. You thought maybe Rafe would grow out of things as he got older, but he grew into a nasty personality that your parents were oblivious to.

 It had been your father and Ward’s idea to set the two of you up. Ward was trying to sneak his way into your lives, thinking the DA wouldn’t be a bad friend to have when he needed something done. Your father thought Rafe was a “wonderful young gentleman with plenty to offer.” You didn’t think anything of it when it would just be your parents and the two of you until you found out from Sarah that she wasn’t invited because of this arrangement.

 You were happy to carry on the façade if it helped your parents. What could it hurt? A few supper dates and showing up to events together. At least you wouldn’t have suffer through dumb Kook things alone. Soon enough you and Rafe started to hang out even when you didn’t have to. You liked seeing this side of Rafe, a more vulnerable side. He was carefree and silly when he was with you. Rafe had found himself falling for you and all your quirks. He had been feeling a lot of pressure from his father about taking over the business, and you seemed to ease some of the pressure from him.

 You thought he was an okay person before he started doing drugs. You were fine with smoking weed considering you smoked yourself. You were even okay with the partying and drinking, but when you found out he was snorting coke, it went too far for you. You had talked to him about and he would always brush it off as being too stressed and it helped him. He would always get upset when you talked about, so you tried to avoid the subject.

 Soon enough the drugs took over his life and he started to sell them. The people he hung out with scared you, so you kept your distance. It was rolling around to Midsummers and you were nervous of going with Rafe. He seemed to be snapping at you more and more lately and you weren’t looking forward to seeing him.

 ~~

You and Sarah had gone to the mainland one day to go dress shopping and have lunch. You guys were wondering around the store when she started going on about some boy she had met. “I don’t know Y/N, he’s so great but things are so complicated.” Sarah spoke, but you didn’t understand. The last time you checked she was seeing Topper, and things were going great. “Wait are we talking about Topper? What can be complicated there, he’s a nice guy.” You questioned. “What if I’m not talking about Topper?” She trailed off, trying to gage your reaction. “I don’t know you guys were having troubles, but if he doesn’t make you happy then you should probably move on before it gets too serious.” You skimmed through some more dresses, grabbing a green one you liked. “Wait, if you’re not seeing Topper then, who is it?” You looked over at her.

 “You promise not to tell anyone?” She asked almost whispering like the other people in the store might be listening. You nodded encouraging her to tell you. “John B.” She whispered. “John B. that works on your dads bought John B.? Oh-Rose is going to so pissed.” You laughed to yourself. “Yeah, we had some weird encounter the other day after the Boneyard party.” “You mean the party that he fought Topper, and that JJ Maybank almost shot him?” You recounted the last party you guys went too; things had gotten out hand quickly. “You know how things went down Y/N, Topper almost killed John B.” She reminded you. “Well, if he makes you happy then I say go for it. I’ll support you. I mean, he’s friends are pretty hot.” You giggled thinking about how attractive you found JJ.

 You never tried to pursue anything with JJ because everyone knew he didn’t go for Kooks, or actual relationships. It was more of a “one and done” kind of scenario with him, and you knew that’s not what you wanted. It didn’t stop you from checking him out from your bedroom window when he came to mow your lawn once a week.

 ~~

The night of midsummers had finally rolled around, and you were getting everything ready. You had your hair appointment earlier in the day and now you were getting the finishing touches of your makeup down and giggling with Sarah. “Are you guys almost done?” Rose had come in seeming inpatient. This year the Cameron’s were getting honored for all the hard work Ward had down for the community and you had to walk in with them. “Uh yeah we’re almost done, just finishing up.” You spoke up. Rose let out a huff and told you guys to be downstairs in five minutes. “Oh god, I think that crowns gone to her head.” Sarah spoke up making you laugh out loud. “What’s so funny in here?” Rafe came in texting on his phone. He was wearing a baby blue suit and you had on a simple off-white gown. When Rafe looked at you his jaw dropped. He had been to plenty events with you, but you had never gotten this dressed up. He thought looked stunning in your dress. “Holy shit Y/L/N, you look amazing” he spoke causing you to blush. Rose called up to you guys again pulling you from you trance. You and Sarah got up and headed downstairs and Rafe said he needed to get something from his room.

 You guys were downstairs taking pictures with your family when you father asked where Rafe was. “I’m right here” Rafe spoke coming around the corner. You could see a bit of white powder on his suit and you knew exactly what he went to do. You rushed up and brushed the bit of powder away before anyone could tell and he let out a silent thank you. Once you got the pictures done, everyone got ready to leave, but you pulled Rafe aside for a second.

 “No funny business, promise?” You asked looking into his eyes, but all you could see were blown pulps and him rolling them. “When do I ever cause problems?” He countered obviously annoyed. “I’m not saying that Rafe, I’m just saying that I don’t want anything to happen like last time.” You explained. He moved out of your grip and headed for the door. “As long as those Pouges don’t cause any problems then we have nothing to worry about.”

 ~~

You practically avoided Rafe like the plague the rest of the night. You and Sarah had dance for awhile before you were interrupted by JJ Maybank, “this is from Vlad.” He shouted over the music before moving to scoop you up in his arms spinning you around as he handed something to Sarah. You looked at her confused, but she was smiling like an idiot. You gave JJ a weird look, “young love, makes people do crazy things.” He spoke still dancing with you.

 You got a good look at his face; it had a few scars and a small black eye. You pretended not to notice, even though you knew it was from the movie night last week. Rafe had come home with the similar marks.

 That you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebbles And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" And I was cryin' on the staircase Beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

 “Where’s your plus one princess?” JJ asked pulling you a little closer to him. You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname. “He’s somewhere”- “I’m right here Maybank, and I’m pretty sure you’re dancing with my girl.” Rafe stepped in, “do you mind getting me another drink, you’re working here right?” He said in nasty tone. “Well, I would you see, but I’m super busy,” JJ spoke trying to get away from the death grip Rafe had on the collar of his shirt. “Rafe, stop please, you promised.” You cut in, not wanting to cause a scene. Rafe let go of JJ and grabbed you by the arm pulling you away. You sent an apologetic look to JJ before leaving with Rafe.

 Rafe had pulled you all through the venue before he got to the balcony on the second floor. “What the hell Y/N? Do you know how that looks to everyone when you defend some low life over me?” He yelled at you. You had never seen Rafe this angry with you before. “Why does it even matter, it’s not like we’re actually dating. We’re doing this to help our parents out.” You raised your voice at him. “These people don’t know that,” he gestured to everyone downstairs. “they think we’re together, but know they think you’re with that scumbag.” “Shut up Rafe, you don’t know anything about him.” You hollered at him. He had no right to say those things about JJ.

 What you didn’t know was that JJ was watching from the party. He knew what Rafe was like when he was angry. He wanted to go after you when Rafe drug you away, but he also didn’t want to cause any drama towards you. He watched the two of you go up the balcony. When he saw Rafe getting in your face he headed towards the balcony to make sure you were okay.

 When he got up there, he could tell you were crying, and he could still hear Rafe yelling at you. “Is everything okay Y/N?” He asked walking towards you and Rafe shook his head, “everything is fine pouge, mind your own damn business.” JJ ignored what Rafe was saying, walking towards you, “do you want to come downstairs Y/N?” he asked softly, trying to calm you down. “Look, I said we’re fine, she’s fine”- “oh yeah, most girls are fine when they’re crying like that.” JJ cut Rafe off, and you finally spoke up. “I want to go home, JJ can you please take me home.” You asked him, not looking at Rafe. “Y/N don’t be dramatic. I can take you home, we came here together.” Rafe reasoned with you, but you didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

 JJ led you out of the venue and towards the door when Kelce and Topper stopped him. “Oh shit.” He mumbled under his breath, but you heard. You grabbed his hand, silently telling him you were scared, and he tucked you behind him. “Hey there Maybank, where do you think you’re going?” Kelce asked, looking down at you. “Great choice of company Y/N, hanging with trash like yourself.” He snickered, and JJ pushed him back, “what the hell did you just say about her.” He questioned and Topper pushed JJ. You saw security make there way over with your father and Rafe.

 Once you left with JJ, Rafe had gone to find your father, and update him on the “bad influences” you had been hanging out with. Of course, to your father Rafe was once again the hero, even though he had been making you cry not only ten minutes earlier.

 You pulled on JJ’s sleave, “J please, can we go.” You pleaded not wanting to have this fight out in the open. Before you and JJ had the chance to make a quick getaway you father grabbed you by the arm. “Y/N what are you doing?” He asked in a hush tone pulling you away from JJ before security escorted him out. You looked back at sent JJ and apologetic look and he just winked at you.

 Your father took you home after that and you got the third degree from both he and your mom. “He’s a pouge Y/N/N, you deserve so much more.” You mother said, she wasn’t nearly as upset as your father. “I thought things were going well between you and Rafe, you guys seemed to get along so well.” She questioned. “How do you know what he’s like, you’ve never met him. I was just trying to help him get out before Rafe and his goon squad could cause a bigger scene.” You informed them. “Oh please, had Rafe not come got me, that Maybank’ kid would have started a fight with those boys. I’ve heard the stories Y/N, and I’ve talked to Deputy Shoupe. He’s told me all about his father’s business.”

 Your father was being harsh. You didn’t know much about JJ, but everyone on this island knew about his hot temper. “I don’t want to catch you around that boy again. Do you understand me?” He asked, “yes, I understand you.” You responded trying to put the conversation to rest.

 You stuck to your word, but it really wasn’t that hard. You guys lived on opposite sides of the island and never ran into each other. You had only seen him once at the Wreck and you were too nervous to go talk to him, plus he was just leaving with his friends. You spent a lot of nights thinking about him. You don’t know why he stuck up for you with Rafe that night, but you were glad he had.

 The next time you saw JJ alone was at the beach. You had gone out early in the morning to paint the sunrise. There was a quiet spot on the beach that no one knew of. It was off the beaten path and was always so calm. Art was your way to escape everything and just be in the moment. When you got there, you noticed someone was already there surfing. You couldn’t tell from the shore who it was, but you decided to stay anyways.

 You got yourself all settled and started to sketch the outlines, including the surfer. You had your music playing softly in the background just enjoying being in the moment. You must have zoned out because once you looked back up you noticed the person surfing was coming from the water. You were shocked to recognize JJ’s signature blonde shaggy hair. ‘Of course, it had to be him’ you thought to yourself. You hoped he wouldn’t recognize you, considering the last time he saw you; you were all dressed up for midsummers.

 You went back to your painting, trying to look busy but that didn’t stop him from coming up to you. “Y/N?” He asked even though he knew it was you. “Oh, hi JJ, how are you?” You asked looking up at him. The sun was making a halo around him, and he looked gorgeous. “I’m good, what are you doing out here so early?” He asked, JJ thought he was the only one who knew of this place. “Uh, I’m just trying to get some sketches done. The sun always hits the marsh so nice out here in the morning.” You explained as he dropped his surf bored to sit next to you.

 You moved over so he would have space on the blanket, and he helped himself to some of the fruit your brought with you. “I never think to bring snacks, you have anything else to eat?” He asked, “yeah I have some yogurt and granola in the backpack.��� You told him and rummaged through to find it. You didn’t mind him eating it, you weren’t hungry anyways.

 JJ was grateful that you let him eat your food. John B was away and the meant he couldn’t go over there and get food. He had eaten at the Wreck a couple of times, but he could only live off leftover fish and chips for so long. He basically inhaled the yogurt, finally getting a good look at what you were painting. It was the marsh, with him surfing. He didn’t know you were that talented. You guys made small talk while you finished the picture. JJ couldn’t understand why he wanted to be around you, maybe it was the calming effect you had on him.

 Of course, he had seen you around the island before, but he never paid much attention. You were a Kook and by island rules, you were off limits. He knew that at midsummers, but he couldn’t help but step in when Rafe was treated you poorly. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble at Midsummers.” He spoke up. You hadn’t expected him to bring the conversation up. “Oh, don’t apologize. If anything, I owe you an apology. My dad shouldn’t have had your escorted like some”- “Criminal?” JJ cut in, still a little upset with being kicked out. “yeah, like that.” You said, “if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re a criminal. I mean I don’t really know you, but I don’t get the criminal vibes, y’know?” You spoke causing the both of you to laugh.

 “Is that me in your painting?” He asked looking over your shoulder and you could feel his breath on your skin. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his tan skin on your own. “Uh-yeah it is. But I didn’t know it was you when I started, so does that make it less weird?” You asked, not looking at him. “It’s not weird, I’m flatter that you would include me in your drawing.” He told you and you could sense the honesty in his voice. You finished up some little details before signing it at the bottom with a heart handing it over to the blonde. “Here you can have it. I have too many drawings of this place anyways.” JJ took the drawing and placed it safely in his book bag.

 You both collected your things getting ready to leave. “Maybe we can meet here again?” JJ asked hopeful you would take him up on his offer. “Uh, yeah sure. How about tomorrow?” You suggest, wanting to see him as soon as possible. “Alright, let’s meet here around 8 tomorrow morning.” “Okay.” You say smiling like an idiot before JJ is leaving in his truck.

 It became a ritual between the two of you. Always meeting up there to hang out. It was easier to keep it a secret from everyone. JJ wasn’t worried about the Pouges knowing, but he knew the Kooks would never let you live it down. Of course, you didn’t care about that, but it was your family you worried about. JJ knew the pressure they put on you to be the perfect daughter and it was not easy shoes to fill. It started out innocent, just hanging out talking, you would bring food for JJ, and he would make you forgot about the pressure of being a Kook for a couple of hours.

 You and JJ shared your first kiss there too. It was late one night when you heard something being thrown at your window. You had cancelled plans with JJ because of fight with your father. It was the same argument about not spending enough time with Rafe, and how it reflected badly on him and his business. It didn’t matter to him that Rafe was seeing other girls, he was blind to the Cameron’s ways. When you got up to look out the window you saw JJ standing there waving to you. He was worried when you cancelled because you had never done that before.

 “What are you doing here?” You asked looking out the window. “Come down and see me, I missed you.” He spoke trying not to be too loud. You heart flutter thinking that he missed hanging out with you. You threw on some shoes and ran down the stairs.

 Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

So I sneak out to the garden to see you We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew So close your eyes Escape this town for a little while, oh

 Once you got outside you jumped into JJ arms giggling. The two of you took off to his truck parked down the street. “Where are we going?” You asked curiosity getting the best of you. “To our spot, I figured you need some time away.” He spoke up as he drove. You relaxed into the worn leather of the truck, and JJ was happy that you found comfort in the truck with him. He backed into the beach and the two of you got out into the bed of the truck. He grabbed some blankets from his bed at that chateau before he left and put them down to make a somewhat comfortable spot to lay down.

 The two of you laid looking up at the stars and he started point out constellations in they sky. “And there’s Ursa Major.” He pointed towards the sky, “where I don’t see it?” You spoke sounding frustrated. He took your hand in his and pointed it towards the stars, “that’s the tail those 3 stars there, and then her body and legs.” He guided your hand to point in the direction of where he was talking about. “oh, I see it now!” You exclaimed giggling.

 JJ knew at this moment that he was in love with you. He knew at this exact moment he would do anything for you. He thought that you were the most kind and gentle person he ever met, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He was pulled from his thoughts when you spoke up, “huh?” he blushed realizing you were still holding his hand. “I asked, how do you know were all these constellations are?” JJ wasn’t prepared for this conversation. You didn’t know much about his home life; he never spoke about it so you assumed he would tell you when he was ready. You could sense that he was nervous, and you squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture.

 “uh-my mom used to take me down to the beach when I was kid. We would spend hours looking at the stars and she would show me all of the constellations.” He spoke not looking at you. You watched him, he was biting his lip, a tell tale sign he was nervous. “That sounds wonderful J, it must have been nice.” You spoke softly not sure if he wanted to take the conversation and farther. “She left. I don’t know, I was like in the third grade, I think. I don’t know why, but she never came back. I guess we weren’t enough for her. My dad never forgave himself, or me for it.” He almost whispered the last part, like he didn’t want you to hear.

 You had seen the bruises and asked him about it, but he always blamed it on a run in with the Kooks, but you finally put two and two together. “He’s the one who hurts you isn’t he?” You ask never looking from him. It was a vulnerable conversation to have and you wanted him to know you were there for him. It was the first time he looked over at you since he started talking, and you could see the tears in his eyes. “Yeah, he is. He gets drunk to cope with mom leaving and then starts to yell. It’s the same thing every time, he says I have her eyes. When he’s sobers again, he apologizes but he’s stuck in vicious cycle.” You leaned closer to him resting your head on his shoulder, “one day we’re going to leave this stupid town and find our own place, I promise.” You whispered to him; you weren’t looking at him, but you knew he was smiling.

 JJ looked over at you and leaned down locking his lips onto yours. It was like a dream come true. It was everything he wanted it to be and more. You were feeling the same thing, over the last little while hanging out with JJ you had developed a crush on him but didn’t want him to know scared the feelings wouldn’t be returned.

 You both stayed in each other arms for what felt like hours when he stopped, “what time is it princess?” He asked grabbing your phone looking at the time. That’s when he saw the countless text messages from your parents. “oh shit.” He cursed under his breath. You gave him a confused look. “what? What’s wrong J?” You ask looking at your phone coming to same realization.

 'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" But you were everything to me I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes" Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel This love is difficult, but it's real Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes" Oh, oh

 The two of you started to get everything packed up texting your parents to tell them you were on your way home. Just as you were climbing back in the truck another set of headlights came into view. It was weird because this was a quite a way from the rest of the island and it was late at night. “Get in the car.” JJ said to you, opening the door. You could sense his nervousness when the car came to stop. “Let’s just go JJ, probably some kids looking for a place to hook up.” You spoke wanting to go home.

 To both of your surprise your father had called Rafe asking if you were with him. When Rafe said that he hadn’t seen you all night he offered to check some of the places you hung out the most. After interrogating some hopeless Pouge, they finally told him that he saw JJ Maybank’s truck head to secluded area of the island. The kid told him that he saw you in the truck with him, and then ran off. Rafe headed towards the south end of the island watching for JJ’s truck. Once he had driven the whole south end of the island, he circled back to Topper’s place to in list his help.

 Topper got into Rafe’s truck pissed off because Rafe had interrupt his date with a girl he had been trying to win over for like a week. “What was so important I had to leave Kate for?” He asked as Rafe pulled out of the driveway. “Y/N’s dad called me and said she snuck out and she’s not answering her phone. You’re going to help me find her.” He explained. Topper was still confused. “Why do you need my help? She’s probably at a friend’s house, did you try calling her? Plus, I thought you were with that girl from the mainland now?” Topper inquired. “Yeah, well I ask around and someone said they saw her hanging out with that low life Maybank and she deserves better.” “Oh well then she’s probably on the old station road, someone told me that his trucks been out there a lot lately.”

 Rafe was fuming with anger. He was sick of you messing around with a pouge making him look bad. He also knew that he wanted to work for her father one day and getting in good with his daughter was a good way to do it. They two men pulled down the road and drove until the saw the familiar truck and watched JJ help you get in the passenger seat. Rafe had texted your father the location and told him it was best he come; this would be a good opportunity to look good in front of him again.

 You recognized the truck as soon as it came to a stop, along with your heart. JJ could tell you were scared by the way you gripped his arm. You gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry JJ.” You said and he looked at you confused until he saw who was getting out of the truck. He eyes widen at the sight of both Rafe and Topper. JJ protectively pushed you behind him before walking up to Rafe. “What’s going on here?” Rafe asked looking over at you. “Just taking Y/N home, what are you guys doing out so late?” JJ asked in a calm tone not wanting to come off threatening. He just wanted to get you home without out any fights.

 Rafe had other plans on his mind. If he was going to look good in front of your father this was one of his only chances. He gave JJ a shove, “oh yeah? What are you doing with my girl Maybank?” JJ stood his ground before getting up in Rafe’s face too, you went to grab JJ’s arm trying to avoid the fight that was about to break out. “I’m not your girl Rafe. Please JJ can we just go home.” JJ looked down at you, “can you please move your truck Rafe so I can get her home.” He asked through gritted teeth. “No Topper and I’ll take her home. She doesn’t need to be hanging out with some piece of shit from the Cut.” He said his words twisting like a knife in his back.

 JJ was beyond angry at this point, “kiss your mother with that mouth Cameron?” “At least my mom isn’t a runaway like yours.” That was all it took for JJ to punch Rafe square in the face. Rafe stumbled into Topper a bit before launching at JJ. The two broke into a brawl and all that could be heard were their grunts and you screaming for them to stop.

 The next thing you know Topper is pulling JJ off Rafe, and your father is pulling Rafe away. Once Rafe is pulled away you run up to JJ to make sure he is okay, but before you can your father grabs your arm. “I warned you about hanging out with this trash.” He spoke with a tight grip around you arm. You looked over at JJ who was crouched by his truck. “is that what you want? Do you want to be known as trash like these other kids? Do you what he does, what his father does? Do you?” He was shaking your arm and screaming at you. “Ouch dad, you’re hurting me.” You spoke over his yelling. JJ looked over at you, he saw you father shaking your body and he could see the fear in your eyes. “Just let me say goodbye to him, please.” You pleaded with your father, and he reluctantly let you.

 Once you got over to JJ you wrapped your arms around him trying to be careful of his already forming bruises. He wiped the tears off your face with the back of his thumb. “I’m sorry JJ, I should have never let any of this happen.” You whispered, and he cut you off with a quick kiss. “I’m fine princess, just go home with your dad, I don’t want you to get in any more trouble than you are. We’ll figure it out, I promise.” “No JJ, I don’t want to leave you.” “I’m fine, please you’re in enough trouble because of me in the first place.” You finally agreed to go after he promised to text you when he got back the Chateau.

 It had been almost a whole week since everything went down. You almost never talked to your father anymore, and you stayed clear of Rafe and his goon squad. You went down to that spot on the beach everyday, but JJ never showed. He hadn’t texted you that night when he got home even though you blew his phone up with texted and calls. It broke you to think that you might have lost the love of your life all together just because of your selfish father.

 Your parents had gone out for the afternoon and told you that the only person coming by should be the grocery boy. You protested not even wanting to answer the door. You wanted them to just have him leave them outside, but your parents didn’t want to food to spoil so you sat in your foyer staring at the wall waiting for him to come.

 When you finally heard the knock on the door you open it to find Pope Heyward, JJ’s best friend on the other side. “Hi Y/N, your parents want these groceries dropped off, where do you want them?” He asked with a smile on his face. You always liked Pope he was kind and had tutor you in Math freshman year. “Um, in the kitchen is fine.” You spoke and lead him to your kitchen. “I also have some mail.” He handed a letter to you that had your name on it with messy writing. You thanked him and gave him the tip your parents left for him. Going to sit back down in the living room you opened the letter. You quickly looked over it is seeing JJ’s signature at the end with a heart.

 Y/N,

 I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a few days but my phone broke that night so I couldn’t text you. I didn’t go to our spot because I didn’t want you to be upset when you saw me, I know how you always panic when I’m hurt 😉 I promise I’ll make it up to you. Meet me on the outskirts of town at dusk tomorrow night. ~ JJ <3

 I got tired of waiting Wonderin' if you were ever comin' around My faith in you was fading When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you, but you never come Is this in my head? I don't know what to think He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring And said, "Marry me, Juliet You'll never have to be alone I love you and that's all I really know I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes" Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh 'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

 You had dressed in a simple white romper with a cardigan considering it was a bit chilly out tonight. You also told your parent that you were staying at friends’ house so they wouldn’t come looking for you. You walked to the outskirts of the island and waited for JJ. You were giving up hope when you saw his truck pull up. He pulled up next to you and got out, and you ran to jump in his arms but suddenly stopped when you saw his face. It was all cut up and he had a nasty black eye. It didn’t take much for the tears to prick your eyes as your thumb smoothed over the freshly formed bruises. “It doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks.” He whispered to you, catching a few stray tears with his thumb.

 “I’m so sorry J. I hate that he let them do this to you.” You said holding his face in your hands looking up at him. You could get lost in his beautiful blue eyes any day. They brought you such calm and love. JJ portrayed all his emotions in his eyes and that’s why you feel in love with them. “I tried talking to your dad, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” He said and you were shocked. No guy had ever done something like that for you. The only time a guy ever talked to your dad was for their own benefit much like Rafe did. “I don’t care what he thinks JJ. I want to be with you, and only you. You’ve made me the happiest person in the world.” You said to him, kissing him. “We’ll figure something out, you promised. I don’t care if we must keep sneaking around together. He’ll see it eventually.” You reasoned with him, the tears you were trying to hold freely falling now.

 JJ hated seeing you like this. He couldn’t tear you away from your family, but he also knew that he didn’t want to try and live another day without you. He didn’t know how it was going to work but he would do what ever it took. “the two of us can jump in this truck right now and go wherever we want to go.” You said to him. “We could go for the summer, it’ll be fine. I have so money saved and we can get jobs on the mainland. Somewhere away from the Outer Banks.” You proposed hoping he would take your bait.

  He thought about it for a minute. He did know some guys that were looking for help on the mainland with construction and maybe it would give your parents some time to adjust to things. “Okay, let’s go get your stuff.” The two of you went back to your house leaving a note explaining everything and bought the first tickets off the island never looking back. It really was a love story.

TAG LIST:

@taylathornton​ @lemur46​ @drewstarkeysbitchh​

[samwisethewitch]

Curses and Hexes

Cursing is one of the most ancient forms of magic — and one of the most controversial. Whereas most magic is constructive (used to manifest or attract things), cursing is destructive (used to cause misfortune or harm).

Technically speaking, curses and hexes are similar but different types of spells. A curse consists of written or spoken words, sometimes combined with gestures. A hex is a ritual involving material items. However, most modern witches use the terms interchangeably, as I do in this post.

The fastest way to start a debate in any witchy community is to bring up the topic of cursing. It seems like everyone has strong opinions on the subject, either for or against. For your practice, all that matters is what you believe.

So, When Is It Okay to Curse Someone?

This is a tricky question, and the answer depends on the witch.

There are some witches who believe that intentionally causing harm or misfortune to another person is always wrong, and will never cast curses for this reason. This is an entirely valid position! If you fall into this camp, know that you’re in good company.

Other witches believe that cursing is acceptable when it’s truly warranted by the situation, such as when your life or livelihood is in danger. Others believe that cursing is simply a means to an end, and can be done with good intention (cursing your friend’s unfaithful partner to get them to stop cheating, for example).

The one thing that most witches seem to agree on is that curses are serious stuff, and should not be taken lightly. Unlike other types of magic, curses are fueled by negative emotions like hate, anger, and heartbreak. This makes them very powerful, but also very draining for the witch casting them. Cursing someone means reliving any trauma you suffered at their hands in order to use those memories as fuel for the fire. Some people aren’t willing to put themselves through such an ordeal, which again, is entirely fair.

Because curses are fueled by such strong emotions, they’re powerful and volatile. They’re like the nitro fuel of witchcraft — if you don’t know what you’re doing and aren’t careful, someone could get seriously hurt. That someone could be you.

My personal view on cursing is essentially the same as my view on physical violence. It’s not the answer to all, or even most, problems, and it sometimes makes the situation worse instead of better. It should never be your first option, but it might very well be your last resort. If someone is holding you at gunpoint, you’re entitled to use violence to protect yourself. Likewise, if someone is putting you or a loved-one in life-threatening danger, you’re entitled to use whatever magical means necessary for protection.

Before You Curse

If you think there’s someone in your life who deserves to be cursed, go through the following criteria to decide if cursing is really the most appropriate action.

Sleep on it. When we’re in the heat of the moment, we sometimes say or do things we don’t mean. If you think you’re angry enough with someone to curse them, give it a couple of days before you reach for the vinegar and chili peppers. Give yourself time to cool off and clear your head. If, after a week, you still feel like a curse is warranted, move on to the next step.

Think about your own motives. Why do you want to curse this person? What did they do to make you angry enough that you’re willing to use magic to harm them in some way? If it’s a minor annoyance, like cutting you off in traffic, a curse probably isn’t appropriate. Likewise, if your motivations are petty or catty in nature — like cursing someone because they beat you out for a promotion — I highly encourage you to stop and do some self-reflection. For one thing, you may not be able to conjure enough genuine hatred and anger for an effective curse. For another, in these situations you may find it more helpful to do some work on yourself (working on anger issues, learning to gracefully accept failure, etc.) rather than lashing out at someone else.

Ask yourself if this situation matters in the long run. It may feel incredibly important now, but try to take a step back and look at the big picture. Will this person matter in a year? Five years? Ten? Are they important enough to warrant allowing yourself to channel enough negative energy for a curse? (If this person is putting your life, livelihood, or safety at risk, the answer to all of these questions is YES!)

Make sure your anger is directed at the right person. Who is really responsible for the pain you’re feeling? For example, if your significant other cheats on you, your first reaction may be to curse the person who “stole” them from you. But you aren’t really upset with this person — you’re hurt because your partner betrayed your trust. I’m not convinced that a cheating partner is a serious enough reason to cast a curse (again, will it really matter in ten years?) but if you decide to do so, at least make sure it’s directed at the person who is truly responsible for your pain.

Consider doing a banishing instead. In situations where a person is a danger to you or your loved ones, sometimes the best option is to give them a magical push out of your life. A banishing does what the name implies — it banishes a person or thing from your life. Unlike a curse, a banishing does not cause harm or misfortune to the person being targeted. It simply removes them from your life.

You can perform a simple yet effective banishing with a piece of paper, a pen, cayenne pepper, and dried lavender. Write the name of the person or thing you want to banish on the paper. Look down at the name and say, out loud, “[Name], you are no longer welcome in my life.” Sprinkle a bit of cayenne on the paper and instruct it to burn this person out of your life. Sprinkle a bit of lavender on the paper and instruct it to bring you peace and healing. Fold the paper up to create a little packet around the herbs, then take it outside and burn it to ash. (Be careful — cayenne smoke burns!) As the paper burns say, “I banish [name] from my life, never to return.” Scatter the leftover ashes on a busy road.

Consider doing a binding instead. Maybe you don’t necessarily need someone out of your life, but you do need to take away their power to cause harm. In this case, a binding is your best bet. A binding is a spell that “binds up” someone’s power, preventing them from taking certain actions. This can be useful for dealing with people who are toxic or abusive. Like a banishing, binding does not cause harm or misfortune to the target.

You can perform a simple binding charm with a photograph of your target, a pen, and red or black thread. Write your target’s full name (or as much of it as you know) across the bottom of the photo. Look down at the photo. Say, out loud, “[Name], I bind you. I bind up your power, so that you can no longer ______.” Fold the paper up as small as possible. Then, begin to wrap the thread around the folded paper. As you do, say, “[Name], I bind you.” Continue wrapping until the thread completely covers the paper — there should be no paper visible.

For whatever reason, some people seem to have a natural resistance to banishing and binding. You may find that your spell works for a while, but the person you tried to banish/bind eventually returns to their old ways. There’s some debate about why this happens — some say it’s because these people are narcissists or energy vampires, while others think it has something to do with their force of will. Personally, I think it’s because some people are so nasty and hateful that it takes nasty, hateful magic to get rid of them for good. If you find yourself dealing with one of these people, and your banishings and bindings aren’t sticking, you may want to move on to a full-fledged curse.

Creating an Effective Curse

Okay, you’ve done your self-reflection, you’ve considered or attempted a banishing and/or binding, and you still feel like cursing is your best/only option. In that case, here are some general guidelines for making sure that your curse is appropriate, effective, and ethical.

Be VERY specific. Don’t just lob a ball of negative energy at someone and expect it to do what you want. Be very, very clear about your intent for this curse. Use precise and specific language. Make it painfully obvious what you want to happen and how you want it to unfold.

For example, when writing a petition or incantation, don’t just say, “[Name] is cursed.” Instead use something like, “Should [Name] ever contact or harass me again, he/she/they is cursed. Let him/her/them feel what I have felt and suffer as I have suffered.” You could get even more specific and detailed if you wanted to, but the important thing is to establish some basic parameters for the powerful dark energy you’re unleashing.

Make sure the punishment fits the crime. A curse to cause sexual impotence probably isn’t appropriate for an abusive boss… unless that boss is sexually harassing their employees. In that case, sticking a few pins in a rotting cucumber may be just what the situation calls for. (Yes, that’s a real curse. Yes, the cucumber represents what you think it represents.)

Making sure the punishment fits the crime also means being honest about how serious of a curse is deserved. Do you really need to ruin this person’s life to get them out of your hair, or will a mild inconvenience do? As strange as the idea of a curse being fair sounds, avoiding overkill will not only maintain balance but will keep you from expending more energy than you have to.

Make sure your curse is only affecting your target and not anyone around them. When it comes to curses, family, friends, and coworkers can sometimes get caught in the crossfire. To avoid this, make sure your spell is targeted to a specific person by personalizing it as much as possible. Include photos of your target, their full legal name (or as much of their full name as you know), and a taglock if you can get it. You may even want to include a line in your petition or incantation specifying that this curse will only affect the desired target and not their friends and associates.

Set clear conditions/parameters. The most effective curses are situational. Think of it as laying an energetic trap in or around a certain situation — this is more efficient and uses up less of your energy than if you were to just cast a blanket curse that affects every area of the target’s life. Curse parameters take the form of, “If [name] does x, they will be met with y.”

Setting parameters also makes sure your curse is truly deserved. For example, maybe your friend has an abusive ex-spouse, and you want to use a curse to keep your friend safe. If the ex-spouse is already leaving your friend alone, there’s no reason for a curse. But if they aren’t leaving your friend alone, they deserve to be met with vicious, magical resistance. For this situation, you may want to use an incantation like, “Should [ex-spouse] ever approach or contact [your friend], they are cursed with discomfort, unrest, and legal trouble. Let them be hunted and put down like a rabid dog.” This ensures that if, at any point in the future, the ex-spouse starts harassing your friend again, the curse will immediately go into action.

Don’t attach yourself to the curse. Perhaps the most important part of cursing is making sure you keep the energy of the curse separate from your own energy. Revenge is a double-edged sword, so you need to take precautions to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

Any time you cast a curse, you want to limit its connection to you as much as possible. Don’t include any of your own personal effects in the spell. You may also want to avoid using tools that hold a special place in your practice. For example, you may not want to use your altar as a place to craft curses. You may want to use materials that can be disposed of easily. Make sure to dispose of curse remains somewhere outside your home, such as at a busy road.

After casting a curse, it’s important to set aside some time for self-care. Start with a thorough cleansing. This can be as simple as taking a bath in salt water (or dumping a bucket of salt water over your head in the shower, if you don’t have a tub), but if you would rather do a full-fledged cleansing ritual, even better! It’s important to do something to remove any lingering negativity from your energy field, and to make sure the curse doesn’t attach to you in any way.

Cursing is intense, emotional, draining work. After casting a curse, take at least a few hours to rest and be kind to yourself. Eat your favorite foods. Take a nap. Read a book or watch a movie. Do whatever you need to do to make yourself feel good.

You may want to do some inner work after cursing to help process the intense emotions involved in this kind of magic. This can be journaling, meditation, energy work, or some other healing modality. If you’ve experienced serious trauma, you may want to consider speaking to a therapist or counselor in addition to doing work on your own.

Resources:

Utterly Wicked by Dorothy Morrison

Of Blood and Bones by Kate Freuler

New World Witchery podcast, “Episode 102 — Evil”

[yumeyooa]

01—the whimsical tune | sugawara koushi

—as per royal tradition, prince sugawara koushi, second in line to the throne of the kingdom of corvus, is to spend one whole spring in the kingdom of angora, strengthening relations between the two neighbouring kingdoms. but while exploring the forests of the otherwise mysterious land, he comes across a rather curious stranger, gracing the woodlands with her whimsical tunes and enigmatic melodies. The more they meet, the more enchanted he becomes and sugawara soon finds himself diving deep into her everything; not knowing of the dangerous wonders that would befall him the more he falls

➢  pairing: sugawara koushi x female! reader

➢ genre: fluff | angst | royal au | supernatural au | strangers to lovers | prince! sugawara | rated 15

➢ word count: 11.9k+ 

➢  warning: i may or may not have overused the word brother at the first half... 

➢ love letter: okay so i may have gotten carried away, and my hand may have slipped but i hope you enjoy this chapter!! let me know what you think! i’d appreciate the feedback hehe

want to be tagged? send in an ask!

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It was pretty unusual to see the Imperial Training Grounds so lively this early in the morning. 

Granted, it wasn't that early. The sun was just about to reach its peak, gracing the earth with its blistering heat, and the royal knights, the most established military organization in the kingdom, were about to have their long-awaited lunch break, but even so, they couldn't miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. 

It wasn't every day that two of the kingdom's princes had a sparring match, after all. 

The second prince, Sugawara Koushi, grunts as he takes a defensive stance against his half-brother and heir to the throne, Sawamura Daichi. He's never been fond of sword fighting. It confused him how one (many actually) could enjoy the art of battling to the death. Sword fighting was gruesome, bloody, and downright nasty. It was something he did out of necessity. Even if he excelled over the regular knights in the palace, he would still never do so willingly. It was more to keep his pride as royalty if you will. 

But Daichi? Daichi excelled in sword fighting. Abnormally so. It was a miracle to Sugawara that he could even hold his ground against him. The crown prince was a master swordsman, skillfully wielding his blade against his own like it were mere child's play; that stupid, obnoxious smirk plastered on his face, a sight that got Sugawara's blood boiling. 

"Are you ready to give in, brother?" Daichi taunts, striking once more as Sugawara rushes to defend himself, causing an uproar of admiration from the crowd. With his subjects watching, it would be shameful for him to just give in, no matter how much Sugawara wanted to admit defeat and just sit down on a nearby bench and rest. 

But alas, his pride was on the line. 

"As if, brother," Sugawara taunts back, quickly unveiling a counter-attack that managed to catch Daich off guard. "Perhaps the one who should give in is you."

The satisfying feeling that came with seeing the look of shock on Daichi's face was perhaps one of the only things that Sugawara enjoyed about sword fighting. The rush of adrenaline and euphoria vibrated within his veins, and for a second, Sugawara felt alive. It felt good to have the upper hand, even if it was just for a moment. It somehow reminded him of the times when he and Daichi would sneak out while their tutor wasn't watching and play around the palace gardens. A time when they could just be brothers and not princes with the weight of the kingdom on their shoulders. 

Nowadays, those moments were few and far between. But that didn't mean they were completely gone. 

The look of shock on Daichi's face fades into one of playfulness that Sugawara's sure mirrors his own. The only reason Sugawara would ever agree to a sparring match in the first place was because it was one of the only ways he and Daichi could truly bond as brothers, a time where they could let down their guard for just a few moments, even if it meant being edged on by the royal knights. 

Sugawara smiles, offering his brother a helping hand, to which Daichi takes with a laugh, hoisting himself up, before wrapping an arm around Sugawara and ruffling his hair playfully, causing laughter amongst the troops. 

"Since when did you have the upper hand, little brother?" Daichi teases, a bright smile plastered on his face. "You've gotten quite strong since the last time we sparred!"

"Says the one who took it easy on me," Sugawara scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. "Never took you as one with a soft heart, brother."

"Me?" Daichi gasps exaggeratedly. "Why, whatever are you talking about?" 

There's a small silence that befalls the two princes before they burst into laughter once more, separating from their 'embrace' and giving each other a handshake. 

"I'll get you for real next time," Sugawara playfully promises as the brothers make their way towards a bench, waving the commander to dismiss the knights for their break in the process, to which he does, the crowd dispersing into smaller groups.

"You always say that, brother," Daichi remarks, rolling his eyes as his own knight offers him a glass of cold water and a towel, to which he accepts gratefully. "Yet it always ends up the same way."

"Ugh," Sugawara groans, taking his own towel and water from his knight. "You don't have to remind me."

The two brothers laugh once more, wiping off the sweat from their faces and gulping down the water they were provided. The silence is only momentarily, however, as Sugawara's attendant approaches the duo staunchly. 

"This servant greets His Royal Highnesses." Sugawara smiles, noticing the nervous look on his attendant's face. However, it was a given, considering he wasn't that familiar with his older brother, as he was pretty new (well, if you consider three years new, that is). 

"It's alright, Yamaguchi," Sugawara reassures, handing the empty cup to his knight, who takes it from his hand. "No need to feel so nervous around the crown prince. What is it?"

At his words, Yamaguchi calms down, and Sugawara smiles at the sight of his shoulders relaxing and his stance becoming a bit more confident. Sugawara treated Yamaguchi like a younger brother, mainly because he personally chose him as his attendant after the scandal that came with the previous one. 

"Your highness," Yamaguchi says, turning his attention towards Sugawara. "His majesty, the king, requests for your presence."

"Me?" Sugawara exclaims before he can think about that. "Are you sure?" Yamaguchi nods, eyes darting from Daichi to Sugawara warily. "Yes, your highness."

"Well, that's odd," Sugawara mumbles to himself before turning to his brother, who was busy looking over the knights who were all over the training grounds, a small smile on his face. "Do you have any idea what business father has with me, brother?"

"No," Daichi says after a few moments, turning to him. "I'm afraid not."

A frown adorns Sugawara's face as he takes his brother's words in. It was rare for their father to call him alone. After all, Sugawara was the second prince. He was never given as much attention as his brother Daichi, especially because Sugawara's mother was a concubine. 

It was known throughout the kingdom that the king greatly loved the queen and had only taken in concubines out of pressure from his advisors and administrators. The love the king and queen had for each other was pure and true, a love that was praised and admired by all citizens of the Kingdom of Corvus, no matter what class they were. 

And Daichi was the perfect fruit of their love. Tall, handsome, charismatic. Sawamura Daichi was the epitome of what the crown prince should be, a great leader and an outstanding heir to the throne who excelled in all aspects, from etiquette to swordsmanship and ironically enough, even a social life— despite what others might think. 

But Sugawara? Sugawara was a product of convenience. A child born to strengthen the kingdom's power. His mother, the first concubine, was a hostage from an abandoned kingdom, forced to spend the rest of her life in solitude, with scornful eyes watching her every move.

She was a mere trophy in the eyes of the kingdom, but to Sugawara, she was so much more than that.

Despite all the turmoil his father had brought to her, Sugawara's mother had cared for him with all the love she had left within the confines of her shattered heart. To his mother, Sugawara was her pride and joy.

Which was why he lived with the hope of making her life just a tad bit better, yet it was hard to do so with his brother—whom he loved and adored as well, mind you—blocking his path.

So now that the opportunity presented itself in front of Sugawara, he was nervous. His father had great expectations for his children, as seen in how he praised Daichi for every triumph he brought to the kingdom. Although the love his father had for him was not as great as his brother's, Sugawara can only hope that he'd do well enough to be acknowledged and not mess up to the point where he'd be thrown away. 

This nervousness that bubbles from within him makes the palace walls seem more intimidating than they already are. He stands in front of the throne room's doors, which loomed over him with its own majesty. The guards that stood in front of those very doors bowed in respect to him, moving to the side to open the way for him to get through, announcing his arrival.

The king sat on the throne in all of his glory, adorned in the most expensive fabrics and jewels, his crown sitting elegantly on top of his head. Eyes stern with power and regality, just as a king should have as his guards and advisers surrounded him. The throne beside him, belonging to the queen, was empty, which Sugawara expected. 

It was a known secret to the royal family that the queen wasn't particularly fond of the throne room, as she preferred to show her prestige as queen in more mundane ways, a trait Sugawara admired. 

"I greet the kingdom's brightest sun," Sugawara says, bowing down in front of his father as a courtesy. Sometimes, he hated the royal greetings. Whose idea was it to greet royalty in such an outlandish manner when they could simply say 'Your majesty?' Honestly, as much as Sugawara was well-versed in noble etiquette, he still couldn't quite understand its absurdity. 

"My son, have you been well?" For a moment, Sugawara doesn't know what to do. His father rarely outwardly showed his care and affection to him, much more so in front of an audience. Usually, when Sugawara was called in by his father, things were settled straight to the point, with no chatter in between. 

But those matters were usually simple (well, as simple as they could be) matters such as dealing with incompetent aristocrats or handling minuscule scandals. This small chatter between father and son meant that his father had called him for something more important than anything he's ever called him for before, and Sugawara can only hope that he would be able to fulfill the expectations that came with it. 

"Yes, father," Sugawara responds, snapping out of his trance. "The Ancient Ones have blessed me with their grace and have granted me good health." 

The Ancient Ones were the guardian deities of the Kingdom of Corvus. Ancient beings with divine energy that made a pact with their human ancestors thousands of years ago. The kingdom thrived on a peaceful relationship with the deities, creating a harmonious balance that sustained the nation in every aspect. They were revered beings, even more potent than the strongest men. And anyone who dared disrespect them, regardless of their status, was to be dealt with immediately.

"Good," the king nods, not even a drop of emotion showing on his face. It unnerved yet relieved Sugawara at the same time as he waited for his father to continue, curiosity and nervousness flowing throughout him. 

"My son, are you familiar with the Kingdom of Angora?" There's a subtle hint hidden within the King's words, a warning if you will. It was almost as if his words were a test, a challenge to see if the king had made the right choice in choosing Sugawara to carry out the task he was about to give. 

"To an extent, father," Sugawara replies, gathering his thoughts slowly. The Kingdom of Angora was a kingdom south of Corvus, known for its incredible power and advanced civilization. It was a kingdom that was significantly more powerful than their own in terms of status and influence. "Angora is a kingdom that has a long-established relationship with our kingdom, most especially in terms of trade and commerce." 

The king remains silent, urging his son to continue. "For years, our kingdom has provided bountiful crops in exchange for their one-of-a-kind inventions. Allying with the kingdom of Angora has helped accelerate the rate of development within the kingdom to a tremendous degree."

"That is right," the king says, nodding in approval. "And to strengthen our relationship with Angora, every twenty years, our kingdom sends over a delegation to theirs and vice versa. Are you aware of this?"

If Sugawara were honest, not so much. After all, he had just turned twenty a year ago, so this event was not brought up as much as it should have been during his childhood years. Moreover, whenever the subject was brought up, his tutor often brushed it off, reassuring Sugawara that he would not be part of the delegation if ever the event were to occur. 

Yet, it seemed as if his tutor was mistaken. 

"Yes, father," Sugawara says, knowing that saying anything other than that would disappoint the king. It is only at this answer does the king show even the slightest of emotion, a cunning yet satisfied smile on his face. 

"Excellent," he gleefully remarks, leaning back on his throne. "Sugawara, my child. After careful consideration and consultation with my advisers, it is with great pleasure that I have decided that you will be our representative to be sent to the Kingdom of Angora. Isn't that just marvelous?" 

The King's laughter almost feels as if it were mocking him, Sugawara thinks to himself. As far as he knows, the delegation lasts for one whole spring. And as much as Sugawara appreciates the change of pace, the announcement still seems like a low blow. 

Because as much as the delegation was an honor and an opportunity on the surface, any noble who was familiar with the king knew how much he despised the kingdom of Angora, despite their excellent relationship. Perhaps it was an inferiority complex, but Sugawara's father just couldn't stand the sight of an empire with more power than he has. It was only thanks to the queen that he hadn't acted on this selfish desire in the first place. 

So despite what others might think, the people chosen for the delegation were those that the king was not particularly fond with. This means that Sugawara would be stuck with nobles who have ongoing conflicts with the king throughout the journey or with the royal family in general. Which was not going to be pretty in the slightest. 

But, what the king says, goes. And despite how much Sugawara wanted to avoid being stuck with judgemental nobles, waiting for their chance to bring the royal family down, he couldn't. So with a sigh, he brings himself back together and looks up at his father, who was looking back at him with an expectant gaze. 

"Indeed, father. It is an honor to serve the kingdom in this manner. I shall do my best to meet your expectations and bring glory to the nation." While Sugawara bows, his father lets out heft laughs, his advisors clapping and nodding along with him. 

"Wonderful! As expected of my second child." There's malice in his father's words, one that never fails to send shivers down his spine. "I'll be expecting admirable results from you, my son." The king says, a warning glance hidden in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed by Sugawara. "You are dismissed."

With a curt bow, Sugawara stands and makes his way out of the throne room, a stoic expression on his face that remains until he passes the giant doors and comes across his attendant, Yamaguchi, who was waiting for him on the other side with nervous yet restrained eyes. 

"How was it, your highness?" Yamaguchi asks, trailing after him. "Did it go well?" The two stopped just as they round the corner, far from the prying eyes of the king's guards. It was never a good idea to show even the slightest bit of his true colors in front of the king's personal servants. It was too risky, something that the king could eventually use against him if ever the situation were to call for it. 

"As well as it'll ever be," Sugawara says, sighing. "Have you any idea where my brother is? I have something to say to him."

"His highness, the crown prince is currently in the third prince's palace," Yamaguchi says, a tense tone in his voice. Speaking about any other member of the royal family aside from his master Sugawara was still hard for him to do, no matter how much his master told him that his brothers were anything but intimidating. 

"Brother Asahi's palace?" Sugawara asks curiously, turning to his attendant. "Whatever for?" 

"It seems as though Prince Asahi has invited the crown prince for some afternoon tea, your highness." Much to Yamaguchi's surprise, Sugawara turns to him in faux offense, a playful look on his face. 

"And he dares not invite me? Outrageous!" He exclaimed, huffing as he turned to walk down the hall. "Make no haste, Yamaguchi. Let us head toward Brother Asahi's palace this instant!"

Azumane Asahi, the third prince of the Kingdom of Corvus, was much more gentle than his two older half-brothers. As the child of the second concubine, who was wed to bridge the gap between the nobles and the commoners, he was often looked down on by the aristocracy for his 'mixed' blood. Yet, that never bothered him as he had no interest in politics or noble affairs. 

All he wanted was to use his status and privilege to help the commoners of the kingdom in whatever way he can. So it wasn't rare to see Prince Asahi engaging in donations and collaborating with the church. But aside from being a literal saint, the third prince was surprisingly infamous for his ability to bake. 

Typically, nobles would be ridiculed for doing something a 'servant' would do, as they'd put it. But Prince Asahi was able to turn that noble weakness into an advantage, owning the most extensive bakery business in the country that rivaled no one. Of course, some thought he was doing it as a form of exerting his presence in the political world, but a closer look and they'd see that everything the third prince did was out of the goodness of his heart. 

Which was why Sugawara found it so comforting to visit him. 

Hanging out with his second brother was a different experience than hanging out with his first brother. There was no doubt that hanging out with Prince Daichi was fun. Sugawara immensely enjoyed sparring sessions and the occasional chatter with his elder half-brother. But hanging out with Asahi was a different breath of fresh air. It was much calmer, much more relaxing, much more soothing, and good for his well-being. 

After all, who wouldn't enjoy spending time drinking tea and eating sweets? 

Sugawara enters his brother's grounds, greeted by the servants who stare at him frantically, surprised at his sudden appearance. Nevertheless, Sugawara simply smiles at them, greeting the servants with a refined grace befitting of a prince. 

With Yamaguchi trailing behind him, he heads towards his brothers' gardens, knowing perfectly well that his two brothers were having tea in the pavilion that graced the garden's center. 

"Brother Asahi!" He calls as he approaches said pavilion, catching sight of his two brothers chatting amongst themselves with their knights and attendants on their side. His two brothers look up at him, both with differing expressions—Asahi with a surprised one and Daichi with a more amused one. 

"Oh, Brother!" Asahi exclaims, smiling brightly. "What brings you here at this hour?" 

Sugawara huffs, sending his brother a playful glare as he takes a seat in the last available chair in the pavilion. "To snack, of course! I can't believe you have the audacity to not invite me for some tea, dear brother. I am very offended." 

A sheepish smile forms on Asahi's face as he takes in Sugawara's playful antics. "I apologize, brother. I was supposed to invite you as well, but Brother Daichi informed me that you had prior engagements…."

At his brother's words, Sugawara turns to his elder brother, giving him a playful glare to which he simply smiles, sipping his tea as if he's done nothing wrong. Sugawara knew what that look on his face meant. His brother was playing with him,

"I never took you as a trickster, dear brother," Sugawara says, sighing. "What would the public do if they were to find out?"

"Why I'm not sure what you mean, brother," Daichi says, as composed as ever. "Since when have I been a trickster? I was merely informing brother Asahi here about your schedule, was I not?" He lets out a chuckle, setting down his cup of tea. "Was that a joke? If so, then I'm afraid you may need a few extra lessons in the art of comedy, dear brother, your skills are very much lacking…."

There's a small silence that settles between the three brothers, with Sugawara and Daich sending each other playful glares at their little exchange. Asahi sighs as if he were used to the situation at the sight of their exchange, setting his own cup of tea down before addressing his elder brothers. 

"Brothers, as much as I enjoy your playful banter, I would very much like to indulge in today's afternoon tea in peace if you don't mind." There's a sharpness in Asahi's voice, one that doesn't go unnoticed by Sugawara and Daichi, who immediately drop the act, giving each other a sheepish smile. As much as Prince Asahi was a gentle prince, he also had times where he was stern and downright terrifying. He was a member of the royal family, after all. 

"My apologies, brother Asahi," Sugawara says, sighing as a servant pours him his own cup of tea. "I'm afraid I was too caught up in the moment. You do know how much I enjoy your afternoon tea."

"Of course, brother," Asahi says, the sternness fading and his gentle smile slowly coming back. "I heard father summoned you. Whatever was it about?"

Sugawara sighs, suddenly brought back to the memory of what had occurred mere moments ago. It was a wonder how playfully arguing with his brothers had lifted the worries and burdens off of his shoulders. But now that he was reminded of the grave reality he was to face, he couldn't help but feel all of those responsibilities crash down on him once more, his eyebrows furrowing in response. 

"Father wishes to appoint me as the representative for the delegation that is to head towards the Kingdom of Angora," Sugawara says, groaning. "I'm sure you both are aware of what that implies."

"Heavens!" Asahi exclaims, eyes wide. "I heard the first son of Count Terushima will be a part of the delegation."

"You mean that vile Marquess Yuji?" Daichi scoffs, gaze hardening. "That atrocious man who tried to seduce Sister Kiyoko?"  

"I'm afraid so," Asahi says, a troubled expression on his face. "Will you be alright, brother? I'm certain that father will choose other nobles who are against the royal family…."

"If you wish, I can speak to father on your behalf," Daichi continues, looking at his younger brother with concern. "It's absurd that a member of the royal family has to lead a bunch of despicable aristocrats who dare defy royalty for the sake of protecting their power, on foreign grounds at that."

"I shall be fine, brother," Sugawara says, waving Daichi off. "Instead of sabotage, I'd rather look at this as an opportunity to prove myself to father. Although, I'm not sure if my sanity will last throughout the entirety of spring." 

"The entirety of spring?" Asahi asks, surprised. "You'll be gone for that long?"

"It's part of the agreement, brother," Daichi answers in Sugawara's stead, looking at his younger brother with pitiful eyes. "Each delegation will spend an entire spring in the other kingdom, strengthening ties and finding new ways to advance their respective countries."

"I'm aware of that, brother," Asahi says, looking distraught. "But still, one whole spring is too much…."

"Why?" Sugawara asks, perking up. "Will you miss me when I leave, brother?" Sugawara's question flusters Asahi, who immediately tries to brush it off, much to his and Daichi's amusement. Prince Asahi was always the more emotionally vulnerable out of the three brothers. Compared to the two, he didn't have as many expectations set upon him, so he was free to show as much emotions as he wanted to. A blessing and a curse at the same time. 

"Don't be sad, brother Asahi," Daichi says, trying to comfort him in the best way he can. "Look on the bright side; maybe our dear brother will finally find himself a wife during his stay in the Kingdom of Angora."

"Indeed, brother, maybe I wi— wait… I most certainly won't!"

It's quite a sight to behold, honestly. If this were in front of anyone else, Sugawara would not have shown the slightest reaction. However, in front of his brothers, Sugawara could be free to let his guard down. Just like he was at that moment, eyes wide in surprise, looking at his elder brother in shock, while Asahi lit up, glad at the sudden revelation. 

"Oh yes!" Asahi exclaims, grabbing Sugawara's hands into his and looking into his eyes intently. "Do use this chance to find yourself a lover, dear brother. You're getting older with each passing year, and yet you're still a bachelor!"

Speechless, Sugawara could do nothing but gape at his brother, who was looking at him expectantly, as if he had placed stars within his eyes. "Brother Asahi is right," Daichi says, smiling mischievously. "You are the only one of us without a lover, brother. Even Sister Kiyoko is to be married to Sir Ryuunosuke this summer, so what's stopping you from finding love?" 

"Royal Responsibility?" Sugawara says as if that were the most obvious thing in the entire world. "I am a prince, brother. I can't simply frolic around seducing ladies for my own benefit!" 

"Really, brother?" Daichi says, giving him a deadpan stare. "Royal responsibility? Are you not aware that you aren't the only prince in the vicinity?" 

"Of course I am!" Sugawara exclaims, slightly flustered. "But still, it is different! You learned to love your spouse after your marriage was arranged, brother. And Brother Asahi, you have all the freedom in the world to choose whom to love! I, on the other hand…."

Asahi and Daichi look at each other, exchanging concerned glances at their brother, who seemed quite perplexed by the situation. Daichi sighs, gathering his thoughts before looking at Sugawara head-on. 

"Brother, you are a prince, are you not?" 

"Yeah, but—"

"—Then take advantage of it. No matter what others may say, you are still a prince of this kingdom. Therefore, you of all people should have the authority to love whom you choose."

A sudden silence falls between the brothers, this one much heavier than the last, yet at the same time, it's liberating. Daichi's advice provides a clear path for Sugawara, even if it was just for a mere moment. 

"I hope you take this advice to heart, brother," Daichi continues after much silence. "It will truly do you good to find love in your life." 

Sugawara sighs, still unsure about the situation, yet he looks at his brothers with a slight smile on his face as an act of reassurance. 

"Thank you, brother," He says. "I will try to look for love, but I hold no promises that it will be found in the Kingdom of Angora." 

The three burst into laughter, the heaviness of the previous situation lifting from their minds. "Who knows, brother?" Asahi says, taking another sip of his tea. "After all, only the Ancient Ones know where our love can be found."

"Indeed," Sugawara agrees, looking up at the sky, eyes squinting from the brightness of the sun. "Who knows what will unfold?" 

“Your highness, we have arrived at the Kingdom of Angora.” 

Sugawara looks up from where he sat in his abnormally luxurious carriage, documents in hand as he takes a peek outside. It had been a few weeks since his afternoon tea session with his brothers, and since then, he had been relatively busy, juggling preparations for the delegation as well as taking care of his own duties as the second prince in the process. 

Not to mention having to deal with all the power-hungry nobles who visited him with regards to the delegation, trying to bribe their way into his favor. It was laughable, really. How could they be so obvious with their intentions? Had they no shame or pride as a noble? Whenever such greedy nobles called for his attention, Sugawara wanted nothing more than to throw them off a cliff and watch them drown. But alas, he couldn’t, lest he risk the reputation of the royal family. So he takes their silly requests with a fake smile, giving them a sense of false hope before cruelly dismissing them afterward. 

It was at times like these where he could understand why he was a prince in the first place. 

Preparing for the delegation was a painful process indeed, but surprisingly enough, the long journey to the kingdom had been relatively peaceful. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Sugawara rode on a separate carriage compared to the other nobles who were joining him on the delegation. Who knows what he would have done should he had been in the same carriage as Marquess Yuji? That obnoxious little playboy would rat his ear off about how he was a better-suited match for his little sister, and Sugawara swears he would go crazy if he spent more than an hour listening to his pathetic whines. 

Sugawara sighs, setting down the documents he held into the portable table in front of him as he takes in the view. Compared to his kingdom, the Kingdom of Angora was filled to the brim with one-of-a-kind industrial buildings. According to Yamaguchi, the outskirts of the capital were home to factories— large warehouses used to develop technological goods. A true sight to behold indeed. 

The delegation had just surpassed the border to the Kingdom of Angora mere moments ago and was now making their way towards the capital. The second prince had only been to the kingdom once before when he was a child, and back then, he was amazed at how stunning the country was with its high-class buildings that far surpassed his own kingdom’s

And this time was no different. 

The Kingdom of Angora was spectacular, more than words could say. It was different from what Sugawara remembered it to be. Although, he could chalk that up to the fact that he hadn’t stepped one foot in the kingdom since he was a child. But even then, Sugawara could tell that the Kingdom’s beauty was far beyond those in his memories. 

And perhaps that had to do with the fact that the Kingdom of Angora was a Kingdom that thrived in magic. 

It was one of the many reasons why they prospered more than any other kingdom on the continent. The Kingdom of Angora was surrounded by bountiful resources rich in mana, which was why their ability to infuse magic into every aspect of their life was unmatched. Even commoners were able to use magic, it seemed. Sugawara could sense mana flowing freely in the air, and as he breathed it in, he could feel the magic thrive throughout every crevice in his body, almost as if it were a dream. 

Back in the Kingdom of Corvus, magic was a luxury. Something that commoners could only ever dream of. Heck, even within the royal family, the practice of magic was few and far between. It took great talent and effort to be able to perform well in the area of magic, much more to master it. Sugawara himself knew how to wield a bit of wind magic, but it was nothing compared to what the mages of Angora could do. He was stuck with simple spells such as cooling the delegation when the rays of the sun threatened to burn them into ash or in simple tricks when his nieces and nephews would ask him for a show. 

But it never compared to the grandeur of using magic to fly and transport objects from one place to another. It never compared to making crops grow faster or healing severe injuries. The magic that the Kingdom of Angora possessed was indescribable, truly, a wonder to behold.

This is why it astonished him when he saw the spectacles of magic within the capital city. While he expected a great welcome for their delegation, as this was a rare occurrence, and their own kingdom had been preparing meticulously for the arrival of Angora’s delegation (courtesy of his sister Kiyoko), he wasn’t expecting it to be this grand of a scale. 

A crowd of commoners surrounded the streets, greeting them with cheers as they passed by. Enchanted flowers graced the pavements providing the atmosphere with a calm, radiant, and glorious presence. The welcoming crowd was indeed a sight to behold, more so when Sugawara took in the sight of the way magic weaved through their surroundings, lifting the carriage up in the air. 

He had been briefed of this experience nights before, and honestly, at first, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around how they were to do this. Levitation magic was considered pretty difficult back in their kingdom, something only the best of the best could do. In fact, only one person in the kingdom could do it, and that was Sir Tenma, who, even by the Kingdom of Angora’s standards, was considered a genius among geniuses. 

But to think that the Kingdom of Angora could do it so easily to the point that they could levitate an entire delegation was oddly terrifying yet amusing to him. Sugawara wasn’t going to lie; however, flying in the air, even by carriage, was exhilarating. Sugawara almost feels like a child with how fascinated he was at the sight. Perhaps this delegation wasn’t going as terrible as he thought. 

But alas, it was just that, a thought. 

“Welcome to the Kingdom of Angora!” A voice calls, booming as Sugawara makes his way out of the carriage, the rest of the nobles and servants following suit. A pathway was made for their entrance, with selected servants lined up on each side in preparation to welcome them, much like how the commoners were in the capital, but this time much more uptight and sophisticated. 

A man walks down the path, dressed in a regal red suit. His spiky black hair and obnoxious smile oddly reminded Sugawara of his elder brother back home. It was funny how he was already homesick when it hasn’t even been a full day since he stepped foot in the Kingdom of Angora. 

“I’m so glad you all arrived safely,” the man continues. “How was your trip? I hope nothing inconvenienced you on the journey here?” 

“Nothing of the sort,” Sugawara replies almost immediately, putting on what he dubs his ‘princely smile’ and shaking the strangers’ hand. “My name is Sugawara Koushi, the second prince of the Kingdom of Corvus. It is a pleasure to meet you….”

“...Kuroo Tetsuro, first prince of the Kingdom of Angora.” At this introduction, Sugawara’s eyes widened, not expecting to be greeted by such a prominent figure. “It is an honor to have an esteemed member of the Corvus Royal Family in our land.” 

“As it is an honor for the future king to welcome us,” Sugawara says, smiling. He turns to the two nobles behind him, sighing as he looks into their expectant eyes. “Here with me are Marquess Yuji and Duke Tooru, and as stated in the agreement between our kingdoms, we shall be staying for an entire spring to strengthen our relationship.”

“Indeed,” Prince Tetsuro says, greeting the nobles in the process. “Please do enter. You must be tired from the journey. The head butler will escort you to your rooms. We have prepared a welcoming banquet for you, but that will be much later.” 

Agreeing, Sugawara, along with the rest of the delegation, follows Kuroo into the castle walls. And just like how he felt mere moments ago gaping in awe at the spectacularity of the capital, he found himself mesmerized at the regal charm the castle exuded. Each crevice shined as if they were made of actual gold, artifacts, and furniture of intricate designs that he had never seen in his life littered the hallways, showcasing the majesty and splendor of the castle. Truly, it was worth the title it contained.

As the delegation separated with the head butler leading Sugawara to the third floor where his suite would be located, Sugawara found himself gaping in awe once more. However, he didn’t outwardly show it. That would be rather unbecoming of a prince, especially on his first day at a foreign kingdom.

Although nothing could beat the simplicity of his own room back in his own palace, the room the Kingdom of Angora had prepared for him was good enough for a king to reside in. It was spacious, with enough room to house a family of five, maybe even eight if Sugawara thought about it long enough. With exquisite furniture that felt soft to the touch and an atmosphere that made Sugawara feel content and relaxed. He could tell that the servants had put their all into preparing the room for him. 

“I do hope the room is to your liking, Your Highness,” the head butler explains as he takes in the way Sugawara observes his surroundings with a keen eye. “Although it does not compare to the luxury you have back in the Kingdom of Corvus, we prepared it bearing your comfort in mind, so please do tell us if anything is not to your liking. We will fix it right away.” 

“No need to worry,” Sugawara assures, giving the head butler a small smile. “The room is perfect. Excellent Work.” For a moment, the head butler is flabbergasted, eyes wide in a look of shock that has Sugawara raising his eyebrow in confusion. 

“Is something the matter?” He asks as the head butler tries to compose himself. 

“N-nothing of the sort, sire. It is an honor to receive praise from someone as esteemed and graceful as yourself.” The way the head butler’s eyes begin to dart around as if he was unsure of himself doesn’t go unnoticed by Sugawara, who can’t help but watch on, confused and amused at the same time. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for the welcoming banquet tonight. In the meantime, you are free to explore the castle grounds. But please refrain from going beyond this floor.”

“May I ask, why?” The head butler freezes as if he were hoping that Sugawara would let the subject go and not ask any more questions. But Sugawara had always been a curious fellow. Never one to stray away from something that had caught his eye. 

“It is the order of his majesty, the king,” is all the butler says as he turns away. “I hope you understand sire,” There was something about the way the head butler carried himself that seemed off to Sugawara, but he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was. So, with a defeated sigh, he dismisses the head butler leaving him alone with his attendant, Yamaguchi, who had stayed silent and observed the exchange from behind the second prince. 

“Will you go beyond this floor, your highness?” Yamaguchi asks once the two were safe, free from the ears of the head butler. Sugawara grins, turning to his attendant with a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, what makes you think that, Yamaguchi?”

“Sire,” Yamaguchi sighs, his confidence growing now that he was alone with his master. “I may have only worked with you as your attendant for a short while, but nevertheless, I’m still your attendant. I’m positive you’re itching to explore the forbidden areas in the palace.”

“How intriguing,” Sugawara muses, smiling to himself as he heads to the balcony of his room, gesturing to Yamaguchi to make him some tea. “You’re absolutely right!”

One of the many reasons why Sugawara had no drive to take over the throne of his own kingdom was that he was an inquisitive child by nature. Sugawara had always been ‘out of the box’ as his tutors once called him, never failing to give them a headache with the amount of ‘nonsensical’ questions he had. 

But more than that, his own curiosity had made him somewhat of an existential crisis to the servants of the royal palace. Sugawara was known as the prince who disappeared within the blink of an eye, always off on an unknown adventure.

 The first few times it happened, the palace was in a frenzy, afraid that he had been kidnapped, when in reality, Sugawara had been exploring an abandoned ballroom he had unexpectedly found buried deep within the castle. It was his mother who had found him that day, clutching him desperately and scolding him to never do that again. 

But Sugawara was not one to be held back, even by his own mother. Honestly, the only person he knew who could hold him back was his father. But he was out of reach for the whole spring, which meant Sugawara had complete and total freedom. 

All he had to do was play pretend. 

“Your highness,” Yamaguchi says, interrupting his train of thought as he strolls into the balcony with his favorite tea and some local snacks in hand. “I believe it isn’t a good idea to explore just yet, or whatever you plan on doing. You’ve just arrived in the Kingdom of Angora. His majesty will throw a fit if he hears that you’ve caused trouble when representing our kingdom.”

Sugawara chuckles, gratefully accepting the cup of tea Yamaguchi prepared and taking a sip. “Oh, Yamaguchi, what do you take me for? A fool?” His words cause Yamaguchi to stiffen as he stares at his master with uncertain eyes, not knowing what to say. At the sight of his uncertainty, Sugawara lets out another chuckle, smiling slightly. “Of course, I’m aware that I need to keep an image of— what did father call it again? Ah yes, perfection— around the Kingdom, and I do plan on maintaining it for the time being, but… there’s no harm in having a little bit of fun while I’m here, is there not?”

Yamaguchi sighs, retreating back to his original position as he looks at Sugawara with a deadpanned expression as if he were used to it. “I understand, your highness. My apologies for questioning your greatness.” Honestly, Yamaguchi still can’t understand Sugawara sometimes. He was indeed an odd character, acting differently depending on who he was talking to. But in a way, it was part of the prince’s charm, he figured. After all, it was that spontaneity that encouraged the second prince to take him in as an attendant in the first place, and he would forever be grateful for it. 

“If I may, your highness,” Yamaguchi speaks up, suddenly remembering an incident that had occurred a few weeks ago. Sugawara nods, encouraging Yamaguchi to continue. “Pardon me for asking, but do you not have plans to heed your brothers’ words?” 

At his question, Sugawara perks up, looking at Yamaguchi with a confused gaze. “My brother’s words?” He asks, setting his cup of tea down. “Whatever do you mean?” 

Yamaguchi fidgets in his place, unsure whether or not he should continue, but Sugawara encourages him with a gentle smile. “If my memory serves me correct, your highness, the first and third prince have advised you to find a lover, have they not?” 

It isn’t apparent, but Sugawara automatically stiffens at his adviser’s reminder, finding himself inwardly groaning. He had already forgotten about his brothers’ constant nagging for him to find a spouse and would have done well without it. But he knows that his brothers would be asking him about the matter the moment he got back from Angora. If there was one thing the three princes shared in common, it was the fact that they were persistent in things that mattered to them. A feat that currently annoyed Sugawara. 

“I’ll be honest with you, Yamaguchi. I have absolutely no plans of finding a lover throughout the whole duration of this trip.” From the corner of his eye, Sugawara sees the way Yamaguchi’s shoulders drop in disappointment, finding the sight quite amusing to see. “But if it would help appease my brothers’ insatiable need to insist on my marriage, then I suppose I—”

All of a sudden, much to Sugawara’s surprise, a gentle melody fills the air. It’s a simple melody, nothing too grand and noble; it was a melody that was soft and supple, pleasing to the ears and charming his every being. It was as if Sugawara were laying in a field of roses and dandelions and everything in between, taking in the warm rays of the sun and basking in the presence of the calm wind. 

It was like spring. 

“—Do you hear that?” Sugawara asks, eyes wide as he looks to his sides, trying to find the source of the extraordinary music he had just heard. It was like anything he had ever come across before in his life. Even the best musicians’ work couldn’t compare to the emotions that overcame him the moment the mysterious melody graced his ears. 

“Hear what, your highness?” Yamaguchi asks, confused at his master’s behavior. “That sound,” Sugawara says hastily as he stands from his seat and approaches the edge of the balcony, looking out into the palace gardens. “That music. Was it a piano? A violin? No. It was most certainly a piano, yet why did it sound so different?” 

“Your highness?” Yamaguchi calls out, approaching him cautiously. “Is everything alright?”

“Are you sure you didn’t hear it, Yamaguchi?” Sugawara asks, turning to his attendant with astonished eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t hear that majestic melody that was just playing mere moments ago?”

“I’m afraid not, your highness,” Yamaguchi answers, uncertain. He was sure that nothing had been playing the whole time. All he had been doing was waiting for his master to finish his sentence. It was strange that he had suddenly grown silent, almost as if he were bewitched by something. But oddly enough, Yamaguchi found nothing odd in the vicinity. 

“That’s odd,” Sugawara mutters to himself as he turns around, facing the palace gardens once more, wishing to hear that beloved tune one more time, “I’m pretty sure I heard something. What a shame, it was such a beautiful sound….”

Sugawara sighs before composing himself and turning to his attendant, who was still looking at him with uncertain eyes. “I apologize for that, Yamaguchi. That was unsightly of me. What was I saying?” 

Yamaguchi gulps, not sure what to make of his master’s sudden behavior. “We were discussing about a possible spouse, your highness?” 

“Ah yes,” Sugawara says, internally groaning. “Do arrange for me one meeting with any noble lady of your choosing. I trust your judgment.”

“Are you sure, your highness?” Yamaguchi asks, perplexed. “Wouldn’t it be better to handpick a date of your own choosing?” 

“Perhaps,” Sugawara says, settling into his seat. “But I don’t plan on engaging in romantic endeavors beyond this one date. For entrepreneurial endeavors, maybe. However, this is mainly to get my brothers off my back. You will assist me, won’t you?” 

“As you wish, your highness,” Yamaguchi says as if he had given up on trying to convince his master otherwise. “I shall begin the preparations right away.”

When Yamaguchi leaves, Sugawara finally feels as if he can take a breather. It wasn’t as if being around his attendant was suffocating. In fact, it was pretty enjoyable for Sugawara to be around Yamaguchi. He was fun to tease and play with, especially around the presence of his family. 

Rather what made Sugawara feel as if he were finally breaking free from the imaginary chains that bind him was the fact that he could finally process precisely what happened just mere moments ago. 

That tune. That delightful melody. That sweet sound. 

Just what was it? It lit a flame inside of Sugawara, a flame that he was entirely unfamiliar with. It was as if the sound was calling him, beckoning him to reach out and find it. It was magical and for all the right reasons. If Sugawara could, he would immediately set out to find the maker of this incredible tune, but alas, he had no leads. 

He had to test the waters, find the perfect spot for him to dive in, and search for invaluable treasure. He was in unknown territory, after all. Yet, even with the dangers it posed, Sugawara couldn’t help but get all giddy with excitement.

This was the adventure he had been searching for. Forget the fact that he was dreading the delegation due to being stuck with some irrational nobles vetting for the throne. Forget his brothers’ nagging about finding a spouse before he returned home. This was what Sugawara would do throughout his stay in the Kingdom of Angora. 

He would search every inch and crevice just to find that heavenly tune. 

The search for the mysterious tune was no easy feat, mind you. Sugawara had to endure long strides of putting on a fake facade of being the perfect prince to the Kingdom of Angora. Considering how he always had to have his guard up as compared to back at home, this trip was much more taxing, especially when it came to dealing with the Angorian Royal Family. 

Don’t get him wrong. Sugawara thinks that the royal family of Angora was charming in their own way. The king and queen were very generous in their welcoming, laughing wholeheartedly during the welcoming banquet. The many princes and princesses of the kingdom were the same, although some more reserved than others, and some with barely any reaction at all. Well, it was expected, of course. Not everyone had the same personality. 

Take the first and second princess, for example. The first princess was the queen’s daughter, with a very much aloof yet dignified personality that was pleasing to engage with. Princess Alisa was in every way a stunning princess (although not as attractive as his little sister Kiyoko, but perhaps Sugawara was biased) and held herself gracefully with an alluring charm floating around her.

On the other hand, the second princess, Princess Akane, daughter of the third queen, was anything but delicate. She was loud, rowdy, and was in no way the textbook definition of a princess. But she held herself with a certain confidence that made her stand firm. Perhaps it was due to her profound relationship with Prince Taketora, the third prince, that resulted to it. They were quite an exciting pair of siblings. 

Yet, despite how amusing Sugawara found the Angorian royal family’s dynamic to be, there was something off. There was something about them that made Sugawara keep his guard up. Maybe it was the uninteresting jokes they made or the way they unintentionally left them out of the conversation. Or perhaps it was the way they boasted about themselves as if they were the best kingdom in the whole continent. 

Really? In front of your allies? How despicable, Sugawara thought to himself. 

When he tried to bring up his curiosity over the music he had heard earlier that afternoon by inquiring about their musicians, they had answered, but not in the way Sugawara liked. The moment he brought it up, the king had gone on what felt like an endless rant about how their musicians were blessings from their god and how they had provided them the talent to be the most exquisite musicians in the whole continent. 

And maybe, Sugawara could admit that part of their boast could be true if the one behind that heavenly sound was one of the kingdom’s esteemed musicians. Then they would indeed have a basis for their claims. But at that moment, Sugawara could only despise their boasting. 

He wanted to know more than the fact that they were blessed because, of course, that was already a given. The fact that one could play an instrument was already a feat in and out of himself. What Sugawara longed to know was who was the one behind that marvelous tune and how exactly did they come up with it? What was the story behind their music? Because never in Sugawara’s life had music shaken up the way that melody had. It was truly remarkable. 

But sadly, Sugawara wasn’t able to get his answer that night. 

Or for the next few days, for that matter. 

Sugawara had expected this prior to the journey to Angora, but all these tedious tasks were hellishly dull. Ever since he was a child, Sugawara hated anything that had to do with nobility and aristocracy. It was all so pointless to him. Why did they have to be so secretive and fake all the time? Why couldn’t they be straightforward with their actions?

Nobles were nothing but sly, proud, and despicable, even with a few exceptions. And that truth remained no matter where Sugawara went. The past few days, he had been guided throughout the capital city, visiting all the noble shops and establishments and taking a closer look at how they did their businesses. 

And it was evident to Sugawara that most nobles were just in it for the money. Sure, they made good businessmen. They understood trends and what was needed within the market, but Sugawara couldn’t feel any passion in their work. Those who were passionate about what they were doing were always the most pleasing ones to converse with. It was always a joy to be around them as it made the stress of his work go away seeing the determined expressions they wore. 

But there was none of that he could see in the nobility. 

The only thing good about their greedy nature was that it provided Sugawara an opportunity to observe and integrate concepts that he found beneficial to his own country. He expected there to be tons of magic involved, but oddly enough, there was none. It was quite strange for a kingdom that prided itself on magic to not have as much of it in the business front. 

Although it made sense when he asked about it. Prince Morisuke, the second prince and the one in charge of the delegation, had informed him that magic was sacred and a bond between the citizens to their faith in the Kingdom of Angora. If they were to use it for unsightly purposes, then that magic would dwindle, and the kingdom would find themselves ruined. 

At the explanation, Sugawara decided not to push it further. Magic was something he was entirely unfamiliar with, even if he did know how to wield it. So it made sense to him that a kingdom with much more expertise in the subject would treat it as invaluable. Shame it wasn’t used as much as he thought it was. It would have done wonders. 

Aside from his curiosities about magic, Sugawara found the first two weeks of the entire delegation absolutely boring. Every day was a blur of waking up, having breakfast, visiting some sort of place with noble connection, coming back to the palace, writing reports, then sleeping. The only thing that differed was the occasional banter with Marques Yuji and Duke Tooru, who were hell-bent on having fun during the minimal free time they had. The audacity the two had, really. While he was here writing mundane reports for his father (more like his advisers) to mull over. 

That is until today. 

Today was probably the most exciting day of the delegation so far. Prince Morisuke had announced the night prior that they would be paying a visit to the royal orchestra to learn about the wonders of noble Angorian music. And to be honest, Sugawara was ecstatic. 

Because finally, he was taking the first step in achieving his goal. 

No matter how much he tried to, Sugawara couldn’t shake the thought of that melody out of his mind. It stuck to him like a parasite, reminding him day and night of how tantalizing it was. Almost as if the song itself were a seductress, lulling Sugawara into its’ arms. And he was willing to follow it. 

How desperately did Sugawara want to just drop his duties, leave, and search for the source of the sound? The more time passed, the more the thought of abandoning his father’s wishes seemed appealing, a feat that should usually have frightened the second prince by now. But that was beside the point. 

If he played his cards right, Sugawara could finally have the answer he was looking for. 

True to its reputation and prestige, the Angorian Royal Orchestra was a sight to behold. According to Prince Morisuke, they practiced in the central performing hall; A majestic concert hall that would make anyone’s jaw drop from its’ beauty and splendor. Decked in red and gold, with a dome that resembled the night sky, Sugawara could almost feel his eyes watering from the majesty of the hall’s design. 

If he ever had a chance to meet the architect, he would most definitely shower him in a million jewels and more if he so wished. 

But beyond that, the orchestra itself, composed of various musicians with talent that Sugawara could say, was out of this world. Even tuning their instruments sounded heavenly to the ears. But after hearing that delightful tune back on his first day, Sugawara couldn’t help but feel as if the music they were letting out could not compare, even though deep down he knew that they were the best of the best.

And that thought continued all throughout their remarkable performance. Don’t get him wrong, Sugawara enjoyed their performance. Their rendition of well-renowned pieces was incredible and showcased their technical skill and incomparable talent. Yet, something felt off. As if there was a missing piece in the puzzle, even though judging by the looks of the rest of his companions, their performance felt complete. 

Sugawara was sure that if he could just hear that melody one more time, he would know exactly what was missing with the performance. 

“How did you find the performance, gentlemen?” Prince Morisuke, with his light brown hair and courteous smile, asked. Before Sugawara could answer, choruses of praise from the other two nobles resonated around him, remarking how splendid the performance was. 

“And how about you, Prince Sugawara?” Prince Morisuke asks, turning to him. “How did you find the performance?”

“Splendid,” Sugawara says, a fake smile plastered on his face. “So splendid, in fact, that I would love to hear more.” Sometimes, Sugawara had to praise himself for how much of a quick thinker he was. It was obvious that his question caught Prince Morisuke off guard as he darted his eyes to meet the head conductor, who looked back with equally nervous ones. 

“I apologize, Prince Sugawara,” Prince Morisuke says, sighing in disappointment. “I’m afraid this is all our  orchestra has prepared for you today….”

“Oh,” Sugawara mutters, keeping up his facade. “That’s a shame. I was hoping such a great orchestra like yours could provide us with one more performance. Don’t you agree, Marquess Yuji, Duke Tooru?” The two nobles that accompanied him nodded enthusiastically, sharing their desire to hear the wonderful music the orchestra could offer. 

But Sugawara had other plans. 

“Even if it’s just the piano playing, we would be absolutely delighted, Prince Morisuke,” Sugawara says, a seemingly innocent expression flashing up to the exasperated prince. “However, if that too is impossible, then I suppose there’s no helping it….”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Prince Sugawara,” Prince Morisuke replies in a frenzy. “Of course, it is not a problem. I’m sure our pianists are capable of conjuring something satisfactory, am I right?” 

From the corner of his eye, Sugawara watches as the pianists panic, not knowing what to do. But a harsh glare from both the conductor and Prince Morisuke leads them to hesitantly agree, the head pianist offering to play a piece he had mastered since his childhood.

At his proposition, Sugawara could feel the excitement build up inside him, although he did well to keep it concealed. Could this pianist be the one responsible for the melody that had haunted his thoughts with each waking moment? He just had to know. Unknowingly he leaned just a bit closer, ears perked and ready to take in the music. 

But when it came, he was disappointed. 

No doubt, the music was beautiful. Sugawara could tell that the pianist put great care into each and every note they touched upon, a perfect tune flowing from his fingerprints. But it didn’t compare.

It didn’t compare to that mysterious sound he had heard. That sound that made his souls waver and his heart clench; that sound that made him yearn to hear more, to dwell in its’ masterpiece.

If not even the best pianist in the kingdom could create that sound, then Perhaps, like Yamaguchi said, it was a figment of his imagination. But could his imagination really produce such beauty? Sugawara didn’t know.

What he did know was that the moment he arrived back at his room, he slumped into the many lush seats, defeated. With the limited freedom, he had to explore, Sugawara was afraid that he would never find what he was looking for. Yamaguchi looks at him with a soft yet knowing smile, already pouring the tea he had prepared prior to his master’s arrival.

“Your highness?” Yamaguchi asked, breaking Sugawara away from his train of misery. The said prince says nothing but waves his hand, signaling his attendant to continue. “Perhaps a change of pace might relieve you of your worries? You do have the afternoon to yourself, so maybe you could use this time to explore the palace gardens?” 

At his words, Sugawara sits up, looking at Yamaguchi with a shocked face. “Just now…” he says as if a miracle were gracing his ears. “What did you just say?”

“I asked if you wanted to take a walk in the gardens, your highness,” Yamaguchi replies, confused at the sudden switch in the prince’s behavior. “You have the rest of the day off, after all….”

“Truly?!” Sugawara asks, standing up from his seat and clasping Yamaguchi by the shoulders, shaking him as if he couldn’t contain his excitement. If it weren’t for the fact that he had already set the kettle down on the table, Yamaguchi was sure that he would have let it go from his grasp, and who knows what horrors he might face once the head butler found out of his incompetence, especially as the attendant of a foreign prince.

“I have the day off today?” Sugawara continues, not caring about the near dilemma he had put his attendant through. “Do not dare lie to me, Yamaguchi, or I swear by The Ancient Ones I will—“

“—Heavens no, your highness!” Yamaguchi exclaims, begging Sugawara to stop. The prince, realizing his actions momentarily halts, staying silent to allow some space for his attendant to continue.

“According to His Highness, Prince Morisuke, the next event for the delegation will be a visit to the magic academy, which will take some time to prepare. Thus, they have allowed some liberty to the schedule….” 

It’s silent for a moment; Sugawara and Yamaguchi caught in a stare-off with Sugawara showcasing a blank look while Yamaguchi showcases an unsure one, unable to read the e thoughts swirling in his master’s mind.

“Well then,” Sugawara says, releasing his hold on the poor attendant’s shoulders. “Bless the Ancient Ones because Heaven knows how long I’ve been waiting for this day!” He exclaims, smiling brightly. “Make haste, Yamaguchi! We are to explore the palace this instant!”

Sugawara’s outburst should, by theory, surprise Yamaguchi. But throughout their stay in the Kingdom of Angora, the poor attendant has realized that this truly is how his master is. Very boisterous and spontaneous on his own terms. The second prince was indeed a curious man to get to know, and Yamaguchi can only be grateful that he got to serve him. 

The palace gardens were absolutely astounding.

Sure, Sugawara had seen the gardens from the balcony of his suite, but to see it in person, where each plant and flower was clearly displayed for his eyes to admire, was an entirely different experience.

The flora of the garden was gorgeous with its intricate details, delicate scents, and show-stopping beauty. Sugawara could only imagine how much time, effort, and care it took to maintain a garden as spectacular as this. Truly, the palace gardeners were competent and excelled at their job.

Sugawara admired the way the local flowers, trees, and herbs made him feel calm. Even though he wasn’t supposed to, Sugawara figured that in the presence of such luscious nature, he shouldn’t hold himself back from relaxing just a tad bit. His shoulders slacken, and he takes in a breath of fresh air, sighing happily at the feeling.

“I assume the garden is to your liking, your highness?” Yamaguchi asks from behind him, observing the way his master frolicked around like a little kid, even though from an outsider’s perspective, he looked as dignified and sophisticated as a prince should be.

“Yes,” Sugawara says, smiling happily. “Indeed it is. With perfect weather like this, it truly is a blessing that the royal family has given us the liberty to roam around and explore. May the Ancient Ones bless them.” 

If possible, Sugawara wanted to shower the Angorian Royal Family in many favors as a symbol of thanks for granting him the luxury of time. If he had to spend one more day galloping around nobles like a fool and writing boring reports to his father, then he was a hundred percent sure that he would have gone crazy. 

But luckily, the fresh scent of nature and the relaxing atmosphere took those burdens away from his mind, albeit temporarily. Sugawara feels like he’s at the comfort of his home, or better yet, the royal library back at his own kingdom, where he would relax by unwinding to his favorite book, while his attendant Yamaguchi searched desperately for him around the palace halls.

Ah yes, perhaps Sugawara was homesick.

Maybe that was why he had heard such a wonderful melody that day because he was missing home. Home is where the heart is, as they say. And the longing for home was especially strong on the first day. 

If that were so, then Sugawara wishes he could hear that melody again. Even if it was through a dream. That sweet, sweet melody that made Sugawara feel as if he were on top of the softest clouds, drifting through the air while the warm sun shines down on him; the scent of roses and daisies graving his senses. 

The sensation was so surreal that it was giving Sugawara chills just thinking about it. That gentle melody, precise yet hinged, confident yet soft, as if it were ringing in his ears and gracing his presence. That melody changed his perception of music after only one listen.

Oh, if only Sugawara had the chance to hear it once mo—

Wait.

Sugawara opens his eyes in shock as he finally takes in his surroundings and true to his instincts. He didn’t imagine the sound at all. Of course not, he chided himself; it sounded too realistic to be a memory born from imagination. No, instead, those clear notes that soothed his heart and would were caressing his ears at the very moment, lulling him in like it had done days before.

And this time, Sugawara was determined to find the source of it.

“Your highness?!” Yamaguchi asked, surprised to see the second prince suddenly sprint, running away from him. “Where are you going?” 

Sugawara doesn’t answer, too focused on figuring out where the sound was coming from, he turns right, heading deeper into the gardens while his attendant calls after him, trying to chase him down and ask him what the problem was, but it was no use. Sugawara was much faster than Yamaguchi. He was a prince, after all. 

Soon enough, after what felt like an eternity of running, Sugawara finds himself face to face with a cobblestone wall, a heavy door staring right back at him. That’s strange, he thinks to himself. I didn’t see this door from up on my balcony. Has it always been there?

Probably, Sugawara figures, shrugging as he takes the first step and opens the door, pleasantly surprised to see a forest on the other side.  But honestly, he shouldn’t have been. This wasn’t his castle, after all, and he had so much more to explore.

For the first time in a long time, Sugawara felt like a child again. He remembers the days when he would run around the hidden rooms of the castle and look for secret exits or lost doors. He was somewhat of a troublemaker, no matter how refined royalty made him. It was one of the only ways to truly make the most of his childhood, after all. 

Following the sound that only seemed to grow stronger the moment he took the first step out into the forest, Sugawara travels through the unknown, going through bushes and trees, desperate to hear more of that alluring tune, until he finally reached a clearing and is floored by what he sees.

There, in the middle of the forest, next to a great big tree, was a girl, a commoner by the looks of it, with ragged clothes and messy yet somehow styled hair, playing away on a beaten-up piano.

Even from afar, Sugawara could see that the piano should have been out of commission. Plants were already growing out of it as if it were eating the piano whole, and if he looked hard enough, he could see a few missing keys. But that was the least of Sugawara’s worries.

Because right now, he was entranced by how enchanting the entire scene was. The melody he had been thinking about for what felt like time eternal was brought to life before his eyes. It wasn’t as sophisticated as the Angorian royal orchestra’s performance. No, everything about the performance in front of him was rustic, simple, and carefree but somehow all the more powerful, and he couldn’t turn away.

It was as if the girl had lost herself in the music, letting her hands flow freely as they played that wonderful melody that haunted his mind and soothed his heart. This was probably a sight the most outstanding artists would kill to see. A view so beautiful, paired with a sound so mesmerizing that Sugawara can almost feel the tears slipping from his eyes.

He wants to hear more; he wants to experience more. He wants to get to know the girl and how she was able to come up with such incredible music.

But before he knows it, the music comes to a halt. The silence of the forest rushes in like a thundering wave, overcoming Sugawara with the realization that the girl he had been admiring was staring at him, terrified.

“W-who?” She stutters, eyes wide in shock. “Who are you?”

© yumeyooa 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform aside from a03 and tumblr or by any means is NOT permitted and will be dealt with accordingly.

➢ taglist: @mirakeul​ 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10, pt 11, pt 12, pt 13

- Chapter 14 -

“I would like your advice on something,” Meng Yao said to his mother.

Meng Shi was wearing silk again, rich colors that suited her – she had fully recovered from the serious illness she’d had a few years back, something for which he would be forever thankful to Qinghe’s doctors because he knew she wouldn’t have made it if they were on their own –  and a fur-lined jacket that made her look especially comfortable. She finished pouring the tea and smiled at him.

“You do?” she teased. “Still, after all these years?”

“I’m never too old for your advice,” he said and kissed her on the cheek before sitting down.

The weiqi board in the corner was midway through a game, he noticed, and was glad: Sisi was terrible at weiqi, and the only other person who routinely played against Meng Shi was Nie Huaisang. Things between them had grown better as he’d grown older – he loved to paint, to play, to keep birds and raise flowers, and those were the things Meng Shi liked the most.

It was good to see them spending time together. Meng Yao hoped that Meng Shi could show Nie Huaisang how to forgive, and to remember how to be as carefree as he had once been.

After all, Nie Huaisang had taken up what had once been Meng Yao’s duties, during the war, all the intelligence work and strategy, the battlefield clean up and the politics, and it had left its marks. Indeed, if Meng Yao had been anyone other than Nie Huaisang’s dearly beloved brother, he would probably be the subject of a decade-long plan of utter obliteration right now, good motivations or not – in fact, he was pretty sure that Nie Huaisang had one already plotted out, and was still considering it an option if Meng Yao didn’t make regular deposits on the infinity of fans he apparently owed him.

(The brat wouldn’t take duplicates, either. Meng Yao had put in an order for someone to send him an entire ship’s worth from Dongying in the hopes that that would earn him a little credit. The relevant someone being Wei Wuxian, who was off exploring the world with Lan Wangji - possibly for no other reason than to get away from the rest of them all teasing them about the long and overly dramatic way in which they’d confessed their affections for each other.) 

Still, Nie Huaisang had forgiven Meng Yao, even if he hadn’t forgotten, and they were most of the way back to being as they had been before – which admittedly was closer than he’d ever been with Meng Shi, who Nie Huaisang seemed to treat as a casual acquaintance instead of a mother. He treated her about the same as Sisi, actually, and usually acted as if he thought Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue were his birth parents instead of his brothers.

And possibly Lan Xichen as some sort of rich uncle he could (and routinely did) extort for gifts.

(He still called him ‘pretty gege’, though he’d recently started up several debates – mostly monologues –  as to whether Lan Xichen ought to now be called ‘er-ge’ and Meng Yao ‘san-ge’ according to their ages, being that he was now part of the family, or if they should just all go ahead and get properly married already so that he could call him ‘sao-zi’ instead. They’d all collectively decided to ignore him.)

“Is it about those sworn brothers of yours?” she asked, lips curving up into a smile that was entirely unlike the practiced ones she had once used most of the time, a real one that was a little bit crooked, and that made it all the more beautiful in his eyes.

Meng Yao batted his eyelashes at her. “I will of course let myself be guided by Mother.”

She laughed. “I think it’s a good cover,” she said. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, now, and she didn’t try to hide it with make-up or anything else. Meng Yao treasured every blemish and imperfection. “You three can spend all your time in each other’s pockets, putting each other above everything else, and no one will question it – or, well, question it too much.”

“Let them talk,” Meng Yao said. There would never come a day when people didn’t whisper about him behind their sleeves, calling him the son of a whore, and nothing he could do, no matter how hard he tried, would stop it. He could only adjust his own thinking and ignore them, at peace in his heart with the knowledge that they were wrong about him. With the knowledge that he was better than they were or indeed would ever be.

Perhaps there was something to Lao Nie’s old exhortation after all.

“But do they have something to talk about?” his mother asked, arching her eyebrows at him. “You retire to the same room to sleep, but I’ve never seen any of you walking strangely the morning after – what are you waiting for? Actual marriage vows?”

“The sworn brother oath served that purpose,” Meng Yao said dismissively, just as he’d explained time and time again to Nie Huaisang. It was just as permanent, after all; they would be bound together in this life and the next, each name forever placed alongside the others in the annals of history. “And we’re just moving slowly.”

He’d explained, in the end, what Wen Ruohan had wanted, what Nie Mingjue was, what that meant; he didn’t want to keep it hidden and risk anyone later thinking that he was taking advantage.

He didn’t want to keep even one more secret from his lovers in this lifetime.

Nothing. Not even surprise parties.

Nie Mingjue hadn’t cared one bit about finding out that he was a furnace, because of course he didn’t; he was still an idiot after all these years. Lan Xichen, at least, had been rightfully alarmed – neither he nor Meng Yao wanted to risk harming Nie Mingjue by accident, no matter how much he argued that his cultivation was high enough that he wouldn’t even notice a setback, and anyway that he trusted them not to try to steal away from him.

Nie Mingjue had finally convinced them to try, the night after they’d taken the oath. Emotions had been running high, and they’d all fallen into bed together, their blood running hot.

It had been – an experience, to say the least.

Sex was pleasant, something Meng Yao knew intellectually from his days in the brothel and personally from the few experiences, male and female, he’d forced himself to have in order to ensure he didn’t have any demons in his heart on the subject. He’d been glad to confirm that although he liked it well enough, it wasn’t so good that he would become addicted to the feeling, descending into dissipation and cruelty the way his father had.

What they’d shared together on that night, however…that wasn’t just sex.

That was something he could become addicted to.

Meng Yao had insisted on a strict moratorium on any further activities until they could process what had just occurred, and it had been telling that neither Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen had argued.

It had been mindblowing, a combination of overwhelming physical pleasure and emotional satiation, and then there was the spiritual ecstasy of cultivation – Meng Yao’s own cultivation, never especially strong, increased at an almost frightening pace for the next week, and Lan Xichen had confirmed a similar effect had occurred for him. Nie Mingjue’s cultivation seemed just as high as ever, unharmed, but obviously they had to do more research before they did anything else lest they accidentally cause harm to him somehow.

That meant they were back down to the basics, limiting themselves to rubbing up against each other at night and offering each other helping hands, given that Meng Yao and Lan Xichen weren’t willing to do anything together if it meant excluding Nie Mingjue – though recently they’d figured out that Nie Mingjue could narrate pornography without batting an eyelash with that frankly magnificent voice of his, and also that he liked telling people what to do (they knew that already, but still)…

They were going slowly. That’s how Meng Yao thought of it, and it was fine – he had no doubt that they’d figure out how to move to the next step sooner or later.

Sooner rather than later, given how quickly Lan Xichen was pouring through their respective sect libraries; apparently sexual frustration was a very effective motivator for him.

“If you’re sure you’re happy,” his mother said, and he smiled. “You seem to be. I’m glad.”

He nodded.

“So if it’s not about that, what do you want advice on? You haven’t needed to consult me on political matters in years. A-Sang would be better at that.”

“It’s not entirely political,” Meng Yao said, “though it’s not entirely apolitical, either, and don’t worry, I’ll consult Huaisang as well. Nevertheless, I wanted your views on the subject. You see, a rather complicated situation has arisen…I’ve been made an unusual offer.”

“An offer? A-Yao…”

“I know, I know,” he said, smiling. “Be careful of offers from strange men, especially bad men, and this is exactly that. But I still thought it was something worth considering. After getting the benefit of your insight, of course.”

“Well, then,” she said. “Now I’m curious. What’s the offer?”

He gave her the letter that he had received and drank his tea while she read it, her eyes going wide and then even wider.

“So,” he said, when he judged that she was done. “What do you think? Do I look like a ‘Jin Guangyao’? Or should I tell my father to go commit anatomically improbable acts on himself?”

“A-Yao…”

“I’m serious,” Meng Yao insisted. “This was always your dream, well before it was mine: whatever you decide, I’ll do. If you’d like for me to claim what should have been mine from the start, I’ll do it, though obviously if he thinks a mere name is enough to convince me to leave Qinghe in favor of Lanling he’s got a nasty surprise coming his way. But if you want me to tell him to his face that I’d rather be your son than his, I’ll do that too.”

He leaned back in his chair, and smiled.

“After all, I already have everything I want.”

- END -

[hopeaterart]

Evil Ozpin AU: Dinner with a bird

Context: Ozpin and Salem more or less swap place, it's a bit complicated. This fic is here to explain how it happened by way of Ozpin monologuing to a (still on Salem's side at the time) Qrow. There's some hints of Ozqrow in there. Like, you're definitely supposed get Vibes. For those unaware: here's my Evil/Swap!Ozpin.

"So... You're Salem's latest pawn." Qrow scowled, eyes narrowing at the monster sitting from across him. How he'd ended up sitting at the same table as Ozpin, also widely known as 'the Wizard', was a blur in his memory, and granted, not that great a story.

Went on a mission for Salem to find his base of operation, with the only info being that it was somewhere in the forests of Sanus. Had to go alone because Tai and Raven had their hands full with Yang and a pregnant Summer. Got caught by Ozpin's latest apprentice- a blond woman about his age with the ironic name of 'Goodwitch'. Letting himself be captured in order to get taken to Ozpin.

One trip to an old monastery latter, he was now separated from Harbringer, had Aura-suppressing manacles on his wrists (thankfully with no chains), and was sitting in front of the Wizard himself. They were on some kind of balcony with only a small table between themselves, and there was a plate on the table with bread on it that neither were touching.

"And you're the guy who's trying to burn down Remnant." He bit back. Ozpin sighed, silver eyelashes fluttering as he narrowed his eyes.

"Is that what my traitorous ex-wife told you?" Ozpin asks, smiling like a predator about to eat it's prey when Qrow's eyes widened in confusion. "I mean- she's not wrong, but Salem isn't exactly the hero of our tale."

"Wh- your ex-wife!?" Qrow exclaimed, before gritting his teeth. "You're lying." He accused Ozpin, who didn't even flinch at the accusation.

"So she didn't tell you." He observed. "Oh, what am I talking about? Of course she'd keep that hidden, that self-righteous hag." Ozpin hissed as he took one of the small bread. "Doesn't want to acknowledge me being a thing is her fault, after all." He opened his mouth, momentarily exposing too-sharp canines as he bit the bread in half. He stared in Qrow's eyes as he chewed, before swallowing. "It's garlic bread. An entrée before the main dish, if you will. I'm not going to poison you, erm... Qrow Branwen, is it?"

Qrow grit his teeth. "And I should believe you, because?"

"Sheer pragmatism on my part, really. We're eating the same food, and I am not interested in poisoning myself." Ozpin explained, shrugging as he finished eating the bread he had in hand. "'Poison damage' is not really the kind of pain I like."

Qrow raised an eyebrow at that. He'd heard stories of Ozpin letting anything and everything hurt him with ecstasy written all over his face, but hearing what seemed like confirmation was a bit... much. "Uh... so what's the deal? Why are you having me eat here with you instead of- oh, I dunno, locking me in some kind of torture dungeon?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty bird?" Qrow averts his eyes at that, his gaze landing on the plate of bread as his cheeks warm up. He hesitantly took one of the bread, shoving it in his mouth and chewing quickly.

He took another one, eating slower and actually savoring it this time as Ozpin turns to look at the scenery. The forest stretches beyond the horizon, any traces of Grimm hidden from sight. Qrow's not fooled, he knows the monastery probably hides a few nasty surprises. The marble-skinned weirdo in front of him is proof enough.

Credit where credit is due, whoever cooked this is a damn good cook. "Who made this?" He asks as he takes another bread. "Didn't expect you to have a five-star chief."

It was Ozpin's turn to be caught off-guard. "I'm... glad you like my cooking." What. Qrow stared at his third half-eaten bread. "Oh, don't be a baby. I have literal centuries of experience behind me, and my cycle of immortality is different from Salem's. Since I need sustenance, might as well be good at it."

"Still not entirely convinced you're not poisoning me." Qrow noted.

Ozpin groaned in exasperation. "If I wanted to kill you, there's a myriad of ways that would be easier and less-headache inducing than this." Ozpin snapped as he got up and started walking away. Qrow turned to look at him as he went behind his chair, before going rigid as cold fingers dug into his shoulders. "Stay there. I'm getting the side and main courses."

Ozpin left the balcony in a puff of smoke, and Qrow let out a breath he didn't knew he was holding. He reached inside his jacket, relieved to see his Scroll was still there. Only for his mood to immediately crash when he realized that this part of Vale didn't get reception.

"Trying to call for help, are you?" Qrow whirled around, scowling when he saw Goodwitch. "I'm telling you now, it's not gonna work. Ozpin has taken precautions."

"What, precautions against modern tech!?" Qrow snapped, getting up as his chair rattled. He didn't care if Goodwitch had one of the most powerful Semblances he'd ever seen while he couldn't even activate his Aura right now. He brought misfortune wherever he went, made sense his shit Semblance would turn against him one day. "Does the guy think we still live in the Dark Ages?"

Goodwitch bristled. "Why, you insufferable- Ozpin is trying to offer you a chance to redeem yourself from working with Salem, and you're squandering it for-"

"Glynda." Both stilled as Ozpin came into view. There was a disappointed frown on his face. "That's no way to treat guests."

"But sir-"

"No buts, young lady." Ozpin reprimanded, waving his fingers as floating plates, glasses and a bottle of something came into view. "Help me with putting on the table, will you?" He asked Glynda, who nodded and took the two plates with food on them to put on the table. "Sit back down, Qrow."

"Don't call me that." The huntsman hissed even as he sat back down. He glared at his plate, which had fish and some kind of salad and... something else in it. He raised his head slightly as the bottle landed on the table, Ozpin dismissing Glynda with a 'thank you' before sitting back down. He pointed at the weird stuff. "What is that?"

"Oysters." Ozpin told him. "I opened them earlier, they're all good. Do you know how to eat them?" Qrow shook his head. "Alright, so first you need to loosen them up..." Qrow followed Ozpin's instructions, pulling a face after eating his first one. Ozpin frowned. "Don't like it?"

"Texture's weird." Ozpin hummed, before taking the bottle and popping the cork off and pouring Qrow a glass.

"It's champagne. Laurent-Poirier. Goes well with oysters, use it to wash them down." Qrow nodded, taking the flute and taking a small sip. "Not a fan of alcohol?"

"Opposite, actually." He started, remembering how his father got after too many bears. "Runs in the family." Ozpin thankfully didn't push the subject, simply turning toward his own plate and taking a bite of his salad.

The two ate in silence for a while. Ozpin opened his mouth again as Qrow tried his second oyster. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Does it matter if I say no?"

"No, but you don't have to answer it." Qrow nodded. "How did you end up working for Salem? I thought the Branwen were a bandit tribe from Mistral?"

Qrow hissed in between his teeth. "I... me and Raven, we... Our parents, they- urgh. Look, all that matters is: we're not going back, and we're never going back."

"Raven..." Ozpin seemed deep in thoughts, as if he was trying to remember something. "That's your sister, right?"

"Yeah." Something occurred to Qrow. "Say, the whole reincarnating wizard thing. You used to be, like, a regular, not-Grimm person, right?"

"That's one way of putting it, but yes." Ozpin answered. "I used to be mortal."

"Did you have siblings? Before the whole..." Qrow made a vague gesture in the other's general direction. Ozpin stilled at that, a faraway look on his face.

"No, none by blood. I grew up in the mountains with only my parents before obtaining my powers." He answered. "I... did have someone I considered my sister, but I was already well into becoming what I am now when I met her." The look on Ozpin's face was absolutely miserable. "Salem killing her pushed me over the edge."

"... Ah." Qrow took a sip of his champagne. "That sucks. Sorry for your loss."

Ozpin waved a hand. "I- it's fine. You're not the one who blasted her with magic for the crime of trying to help me stay me." He quickly ate an oyster, seemingly cheering up. "Anyway, my turn to ask you a question!"

Qrow snorted despite himself. "What is this, 21 questions?"

"My crush is no one, if you're wondering." Ozpin joked, before straightening in his chair. "What did Salem tell you about me?"

Qrow shrugged as he cut some of his fish. "You want to burn down Remnant. You can do magic. Whoever you reincarnate in dies the moment you come into the picture. You started the whole thing with Salem. And she doesn't know how to stop your cycle."

Ozpin hummed. "I see. Your turn."

"How... much of what I told you do you agree with?" Between the ex-wife comment and the very real grief he had when talking about his sister, it was clear had a different version of the events. Besides, the monster Salem had described to him wouldn't simply sit him down to talk.

Ozpin hummed, a piece of fish on his fork as he waved it in the air. "I do want to do some burning, but it's more 'everything Salem ever worked for' than Remnant. Come on, Qrow, I live here. And I'm stuck here." He ate his fish. "If I really wanted to destroy Remnant, I'd simply use the Relics."

He hummed. "Yeah, that's fair- wait. You know where the Relics are!?" The amount of people that were on wild goose chases to find them... And this whole time, Salem's sworn enemy could get to them the moment he decided to stop playing around.

"Of course I know where they are. I'm the one who hid them in the first place." Ozpin noted. "Can't have Salem blowing up my body with the Sword again... urgh, retrieving it and the Lamp was such a pain!" Qrow numbly nodded. "Anyway, you wanted to know about my magic?"

"Uh-" Ozpin snapped his fingers, whisps of green and gold rising from them as pitch black eyes burst into green flames. Like a Maiden's. "Oh shit!"

Ozpin smiled as the magic faded, Qrow numbly realizing there were brown irises somewhere in those pools of tar. "I can. And unlike Salem, I'm willing to share."

"You- you're the guy who created the Maidens!?" The fairytale explaining their origin spoke of an old, cruel magician, who took four sisters under his wing and taught them how to use magic.

"Ah, yes." Ozpin spoke with fondness. "The first Maidens. They reminded me of the first daughters I had, and they were so very loyal to me... loyalty deserves to be rewarded, don't you think?"

Qrow frowned. "Is that why they keep turning against Salem when she finds them first? Something to do with your magic?"

"What- no!" Ozpin exclaimed, clearly offended. He then frowned in confusion. "I think. If it is a thing, then it wasn't intentional." A pause as Ozpin downs his flute, before pouring himself more champagne. "Anyway, my reincarnations..."

Qrow raised an eyebrow as Ozpin downed more champagne. "Sensitive point?"

"More angry about Salem being right on this one. Or..." He chuckled. "Was right. I proved her wrong, in this life. Ozma isn't in control anymore."

"There's literally nothing in what you just said that's reassuring." Qrow noted, Ozpin smiling at him as he finished his salad. "Who's Ozma?"

"The name of the first soul in the cycle." Ozpin told him. "He used to absorb whoever he reincarnated in into himself the moment he was in their bodies, but his soul weakened over time, and it took more and more time and efforts to absorb them. By the time he reached me, it him almost twenty years for our souls to fuse, and then..."

"... you're the one who absorbed him." Qrow finished. He frowned. If Ozma's soul was driven by anger at being betrayed by the woman he loved, then... "Holy shit, what did Salem do for you to hate her that much!?"

"What would you do," Ozpin started. "If you wanted to live, but someone wanted you dead? Because you know of something you couldn't care less about that could destroy her life? What would you think if someone thought of you as nothing less than the latest stain on her self-inflated ego? Proof that she's just human, if not worse than that?"

Qrow frowned at that. Was that how Ozpin saw the conflict? But nevertheless, he knew the answer to that question. It wasn't one he was happy with, but... "I'd kill her before she killed me."

"Good answer. And the answer to who started our conflict: as far as I'm concerned, it's all. Her. Fault." The two finished their plates in silence after that, Ozpin first and spending the next few minutes watching Qrow.

They stared at each other for a while. "Uh. All that fancy stuff, and no dessert?" Qrow joked. The tiniest bit of relief struck him as the corners of Ozpin's eyes crinkled.

"Now, you're speaking my language!" The pale-skinned man clapped his hand, and Qrow nearly jumped out of his skin when a Grimm came out of the shadows.

It was unlike any Qrow had seen before. A glossy sphere with bone shards on it's lower half, floating with an array of thin tentacles trailing under it. There was an ominous light coming from into the sphere, even if it wasn't really visible in this light.

It was also green instead of red, which meant Ozpin had created the fucking thing. Black smoke rose up from under the plates at a wave of the Wizard's hands, handing them to the Grimm. "Bring these to the kitchen, and bring back the dessert. It's on the pastry cart." The Grimm simply took the pile of plates and floated back in the darkness of the inside.

Qrow inhaled sharply. "What the fuck was that-"

"Seer Grimm. I've put enchantments all over the place so we don't end up getting detected by the CCT, but I need a way to communicate with my followers when they're away." Ozpin explained with a shrug of his shoulders as he poured himself yet another glass of champagne. Qrow stared at him. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm pretty sure most of my bodily fluids have been replaced by Grimm sludge, it takes an insane amount of alcohol for me to get drunk."

"Yikes." That word alone could describe at least half of what Qrow had learned about Ozpin today.

"Want a refill?" Qrow looked at what Ozpin was pointing at. His own flute, now empty. He nodded, letting the wizard pour him a second glass. Ozpin got up from the table after that, his glass in hand as he leaned on the balcony, back to the Huntsman. "Anyway, there's still one part of your question I haven't answered yet."

Qrow frowned, before remembering. "Is there a way to stop your cycle of reincarnation?"

If he had seen the manic smile on Ozpin's face, Qrow would've been scared for life. "Nope~. There was, but Salem would've had to die, and she was unwilling to. And now, the only way to get rid of me has been made useless."

"What do you mean by that...?"

Before Qrow could get his answer, the Seer Grimm was back, pushing a tray with a plate that had a mountain of what looked like chocolate truffles on it. Ozpin turned around, snapping his fingers as he did so. The Seer rotated, floating toward Ozpin as the wizard reached a hand out, caressing the smooth surface. He looked at the Grimm warmly, before turning those same eyes on Qrow, making something in his chest flutter. "Slit my throat open."

One of the Grimm's tentacle morphed into a blade, and faster than Qrow could see, Ozpin's throat was opened with a gush of tar-like blood. Ozpin gurgled, more of the black sludge coming out of his mouth as he took a few steps back, before falling backwards over the edge of the balcony. Qrow's better nature took the better of him as he rushed out of his chair, rushing to try and catch the wizard. "OZPIN!"

... Only for the man to raise into the air, eyes ablaze as a gentle breeze carried him. Ozpin laughed awkwardly as the other man stared at him in shock. "Were you scared for me?" Qrow took a step back as what he realized was a nothing less than a living god touched down on the balustrade. "Don't worry, there's no need to! I know it's always a bit scary when I take risks like that, but I assure you: there's no need to, since I-"

"Can't die." Qrow finished, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. "You can't die."

Ozpin frowned sympathetically at him as he sat down on the balustrade, looking up at Qrow. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

His answer came in the way Qrow crumpled to the ground, breathing harshly as if he was trying to refrain himself from crying. "No one wanted me-" He started in between gasps, Ozpin frowning as he came to kneel down next to him. "I gave my life to her because she gave me a place where- where I belonged-" He continued, letting the other man manhandle him into a hug. "I thought I was finally- finally-"

"Doing some good?" Ozpin finished for him. That opened the floodgates, Qrow burying his face in Ozpin's chest as he sobbed. Ozpin gently carded a hand through his hair, resting is lips on the top of his head. "You poor thing..." He muttered. "I'm afraid meeting Salem was the worst luck of your life."

Qrow continued crying, not noticing Ozpin manhandling him further until he was sitting in Ozpin's former chair. The wizard had his back turned to him, taking the plate with the truffles. "What are you...?"

Ozpin turned toward him, a kind smile on his face. "After everything you learned today, you must be exhausted. I just want to make you feel a bit better, is all." He came to sit on the table, plate next to him. He picked the truffle at the top, bringing it to Qrow's mouth. "Open."

Qrow nodded, opening his mouth and letting Ozpin handfeed him sweets, the wizard occasionally cradling his face or petting his hair. Ozpin smiled, picking up Qrow's discarded glass of champagne and sipping on it as the other leaned in his hand.

I win this time, dear~

[appledotcodotuk]

why the hive fckin suck at its job: a rant

spoilers for tgwdlm ahead!

first of all, it's important to consider what exactly the hive's job is. my answer is... who the fuck knows. literally. what is the hive's aim. what do you want Paul? more like, what do you want hive? let's find out!

it kinda evolves, as the play progresses. the intial aim of the hive, and one that does actually remain consistent is the constant burning need to grow and devour and gain more and more (insert capitalism metaphor here).

however, this is distorted by the people it possess who influence that aim, as we'll see later.

also the fact it crashes into a theatre displaying Mamma Mia gives the hive the motive it need to fit the world around it to the structure of the musical. having no originality of its own, the hive instead just picks up what is given to it. kinda like an evil baby.

it wants uniformity, that is indeed its ultimate goal and desire, no duh. it thinks it can achieve that through musical theatre, shame that the hive is dead wrong. cause the hive fucking sucks at its own job / aim / ultimate purpose / one concrete goal that motivates all its actions.

can't maintain control over its subjects

okay, so, the hive wants uniformity. it wants everyone to be dancing to the beat of its own tune. right? yeah. shame it literally can't keep its own possessed subjects in line at all. at the risk of sounding like the 10th doctor waxing lyrical abt humanity for the 50th time, humans are really difficult to control cause we're not really motivated by an altruistic allegiance to one primary good. we've got icky emotions that often move us to do stupid unpredictable stuff way more. it makes me wonder if the reason the hive wanted to use musical theatre to try and persuade ppl was cause it seems to think that is how theyll get emotive humans; through emotive songs. anyways. let's look at some examples shall weeeee?

Mr Davidson:

so, Mr Davidson. funnily enough, he's the guy whose in part acting as the hive trying to figure out what it wants through his interactions w/ Paul. every person it possess gives it just a bit more humanity and curiosity abt the world it is currently taking over. at least I think so. hence why as the musical develops u get character's like possessed!Alice wondering 'why does it hurt to love?' - the change in music and mood to something much more introspective really suggests to me that the hive is beginning to question the thoughts and emotions of its human hosts.

Mr Davidson is a family man through and through, he loves his wife Carol. she's his muse, his source of light. his feelings for her are not concrete or easy to explain and solve - hence why his sudden ahem demand of her is so hilarious and also jarring. it completely clashes with the 'I want song' which is simple, and often pushes forward a wider cause. not so with Mr Davidson, he just really loves his wife man. enough to break a frickin alien possession.

tbh I think its hilarious that (at least to me) the hive has to force him to forget and continue with the song, like, he straight up is just talking to his wife in that phone call, talking, not singing. so, no possession until he reverts back into song. ergo, the hive cannot maintain the uniformity it wants. even from the get go when theoretically its control should be stronger cause it has less ppl to co-ordinate. bad. at. its. job.

Paul:

this one hurts folks. yes, I know it's generally agreed, though somewhat debated that the state of Paul by the end of the tgwdlm is not purely possessed. I agree. once again, the hive is unable to truly enforce uniformity.

at this point, the motives of Paul and the hive are kinda just mixed, neither fully human nor fully alien. hence the constant shifts between pleeing for her to get away, to hide, to stay safe: 'what if the only choice is you have to sing to survive' and just full on old style hive nastiness 'let me puke in your mouth and just open your food bin girl' (so romantic 🥰 /j).

the hive has gone away from its original aim, and become something... different. no longer stuck to just one type of genre or style of song, it's really clever to show the developing complexity of the hive by showing how it is now juggling lots of different motifs with references to all the old songs from before recontextualised in a new way - its learning. evil baby... no longer uniform.

general miscommunication:

there are several instances of the hive not fully having uniform control over its subjects. for instance, right after not your seed with the three teens having to like... calibrate. they aren't just completely connected then?? also, this is a very small thing, but uhhhh at the end of inevitable when Paul is about to say the apotheosis is upon... the chorus interrupts him with USSSSSSS. interruptions??? not very in sync of u hive.

I think this inability to exert uniformity is also shown in the contrast between genre of musical theatre. my alien abomination cannot decide whether it wants to be the more modern edgy rock musical (join us (and die), not your seed ) or super happy go lucky old style musical theatre (lah dee dah dah day, and inevitable). it tries to do both, even while trying to encourage union, and sticking to one thing. hypocrite!!!!!

2. aims are guided by the people it possess

so, I mentioned this a bit already, but the hive isn't only mutating the humans, the humans are mutating the hive right back. this is more an interesting observation than any actual analysis but let's goooo.

greenpeace girl:

I think it's very likely that greenpeace girl is one of the first to be possessed. This is probably easily debunkable but whatever this analysis is flying by the seat or its pants anywayyyyy. why? cause where else would it pick up that whole 'this planet needs fixing' thing? it's interesting too, cause it morphs from expressing the desire to join hands and sing together, unity and peace with no actual action behind it. this then goes right to the other end, with the hive going 'fine I'll do it myself' and trying to save things by enforcing a dictatorship on the world. it develops and changes, and strays from its original means of accomplishing its aims! speaking oooooof...

3. inconsistent in means of accomplishing aims

okay, ur an evil hive mind. u think musicals are the way to win over these silly humans cause they're all weak and emotive and seem to respond to them. but, wait! schwoopsie! you haven't realised that for emotional depth and growth to mean anything, you need there to be established development and well... growth. otherwise the sentiments are as vague as the ones expressed in What Do You Want, Paul?

this show has genuine emotional moments, just not really during the musical numbers WITH EXCEPTIONS. any strife is smoothed over quickly, and so the development and change that would have to go into such growth is just gone. (see, You Tied Up My Heart) all so it can achieve its own desire to grow and grow and grow, maybe a metaphor for art being killed under late stage capitalism??

what actually matters is the impact the songs have afterwards, in causing a death - because we have a bond and care abt these characters. those short scenes between Paul and Emma are actually way more resonant than any song. except... inevitable, and also not your seed a bit. at this point the hive has learnt a thing or two, and can actually twist human emotion a little. but for it to do that, it has to reject the uniformity it prizes, and be adaptable. point towards being more human than it first thought? methinks so. and yet it's just not enough...

it's also why let it out, to me, feels really ingenuine. Paul has expressed himself in much better ways already. what they're doing is clearly paining him, and hurting the guy. he's terrified bless.

you can't force someone into being emotional vulnerable, man.

it's why all the deaths for the characters who are forced to express themselves are really violent, involving them being ripped open - literally forcing them to expose themselves from the 'inside out' as Alice reflects in Not Your Seed. you can't force genuine emotional connection, it has to be fostered, shown in the much more affecting relationship of Paul and Emma. the only reason the hive actually has power over our characters is because of these genuine emotional connections, which it tries and often fails to take advantage of, resulting in just resorting to brute violence. messy hive, very messy.

at the core, the musical's a kinda attack on that toxic positivity mindst: trying to force people to reach the sort of easy solutions by sharing feelings in a way that feels pretty invasive and deciding you are instantly fixed. the problems these characters face are jarringly not really what you'd expect a character in a musical to face, cheating, a lot of it, mid-life crisis. problems that are bland, or wayyyy too real. this is purposefully done, to reveal just how silly the hive's aim to use musical theatre to solve everyone's problem is. life is more complex than that smh.

4. a human can write a much more expressive, and genuine song than they ever could lol

u know which song I'm talking abt. what more is there to say. so much for making persuasive songs to tempt people over.

5. make me sad cause they took some perfectly nice ppl and funked them up 😭

this was a stupid point lol. basically I'm just bitter that this hive took a bunch of perfectly okay ppl and gave them hive brain. screw u hive. I swear I'm gonna watch Black Friday soon, cause I'm sure it's gonna completely destroy every thought I've had so far, but whateve,,, just take this as a look at tgwdlm like it's a stand-alone piece.

these guys are supposed to all be 'individuals' on one level, but also 'appendages of a much larger organism'. there's a little too much individualism and fracturing to be cohesive enough to do that I feel. the hive to me is not an infallible, unstoppable force, in fact, every human it takes over only brings it closer to understanding us. so that's maybe a slight positive note??? idk ?! I just have lots of thoughts and feelings abt this musical even if this doesn't make sense I'm proud i wrote it down hehe.

[neochatarra]

8 Untold Signs Of Narcissist People

Sometimes the signs of narcissism aren't so obvious and narcissists fly under our radar. Not every narcissist may be a puffed-up addict or a Mean Girl like Regina George. If they were, we could see the signs from a mile away and steer clear. No, many narcissists are sensitive, thoughtful, and generous – until the charade wears off, of course.

That's why it's so important to know the subtle signs of narcissism that you simply won't notice until it's too late and they've sucked you into their region.

What's the Difference Between an Overt and Covert Narcissist?

Many people tend to consider narcissists as having extroverted personalities. They're flamboyant and demand to be the middle of attention – how are you able to miss them?

The truth is, introverts also can be narcissists. These are those who fool us into their web of manipulation.

"They're not self-absorbed – they're just sensitive!"

"They're not a nasty friend – they're just misunderstood!"

After forming a relationship with a covert narcissist, you realize that this sensitivity and isolation were, in fact, signs of narcissism. Since the signs weren't so obvious, however, you completely misjudged things.

8 Signs of Narcissism You Can't-Miss

Since the covert narcissist is best at hiding their abusive behavior, it's important to know the subtle cues that give them away.

1. They'll Never Utter the Phrase "I Don't Know"

I once knew a narcissist who was so averse to the present phrase that he would rather give someone dangerously incorrect answers than admit to not knowing something. He was confident in his woefully wrong answers, too.

Why do this?

Answering an issue with "I don't know" deprives the narcissist of important attention. The person seeking a solution will simply advance to somebody else who might help them. That's an enormous ego hit.

That's why you'll often find narcissists rambling on about topics they need no business speaking on.

2. They Are A Nasty Friend

The narcissist is usually a nasty friend but you'll typically find them playing the victim. confirm to urge all sides of the story if you're unsure.

What are some red flag signs of narcissism that indicate the suspect may be a narcissist?

• They get irritated when their friends invite help or advice.

• They don't bother to call or text their friends on birthdays or holidays.

• They don't return borrowed items. (A sign of entitlement.)

• They owe their friends money. they'll downplay this as "not an enormous deal."

• They embarrass their friends ahead of others.

• They hunt down or entertain their friends' partners or love interests.

They also treat waitstaff or service workers poorly. This is a dead giveaway. run the hills. Anyone who disrespects waitstaff or service workers views people as "beneath" them. Soon, you'll be a part of the inferiors also.

3. They Need To Insert Themselves Into Every Story

A covert narcissist might not demand everyone's attention. They will, however, still find how to form everything about them. an outsized part of this strategy involves inserting themselves into every story.

Is a coworker talking about their experience with homelessness? The narcissist, too, features a story about being poor.

Is a lover talking about his amazing trip to Vietnam? The narcissist also had a friend who visited Vietnam. And guess what? She heard it wasn't so great.

No matter the subject, the narcissist features a remarkable skill for turning the eye their way – regardless of how innocuous it'd seem.

4. They're Sensitive

At first, you'll appreciate their ability to freely express emotions. this is often an excellent tactic narcissists use to lure empathetic people into their trap.

Maybe a fast-food worker got their order wrong and therefore the narcissist hasn't shut up about it all day. Maybe their boss asked them to prevent playing on their phone such a lot and now the narcissist is crying about it over dinner.

As time goes on, you'll realize that the narcissist isn't vulnerable and sensitive: their fragile ego can't handle honest mistakes and valid criticism. To the narcissist, these are personal attacks.

5. They Form Relationships Based On What Someone Can "Do for Them"

If you're at a celebration and therefore the suspected narcissist suggests you ask someone because they will help together with your career or financial situation, don't ignore it. They aren't trying to assist you: they're letting you in on their game.

Narcissists tend to make shallow friendships that supported what people can do for them. You'll often find narcissists make friends with horribly toxic people simply because these folks have money, own bars, or offers career opportunities.

6. Their Stories Don't Match Reality

Both the overt and covert narcissist has an inflated sense of self. The thing is, they believe their lies. As a result, you'll often find they recall stories much differently than the situations played out.

If you notice that the suspect constantly reframes stories to form themselves the hero or victim, retreat fast – this is often one among the various signs of narcissism. By changing the story to suit their narrative, the narcissist is gaslighting everyone else involved.

It's not cute or funny to constantly need to correct them. Sooner or later, they'll start gaslighting you, too.

7. They Observe and Judge

"There's no way she will be a narcissist. When we're out with friends, she barely says ten words!"

I hear it all the time. By sitting back and observing everyone, however, the covert narcissist is silently taking notes and judging. I'm sure you heard all about her observations on the car ride home.

The narcissist must feel superior to everyone around them. this is often easy to try to do once you don't open your mouth to interact in conversation and instead sit back to require notes about everyone's shortcomings.

8. They Only Hear Bits and Pieces of Your Stories

Does it desire the suspected narcissist just isn't. listening? They're probably not. And if they're, they don't care.

Maybe you spent ten minutes venting to your mother about how you didn't get that promotion at work because you showed up late one solitary time with a legitimate reason. How did she respond? "Well, maybe you'll remember to point out up on time from now on."

You can't be the victim. Only the narcissist is often the victim.

You see this ton with narcissist parents or partners who listen only enough to toss stuff back in your face later.

How to Turn the Tables on a Narcissist?

Perhaps you've gone on a couple of dates with someone or a replacement coworker joined your team. you think they'll be a narcissist but you aren't entirely sure.

After all, the covert narcissist is especially cunning at hiding the more obvious signs of narcissism. Here's the way to turn the tables on a narcissist and obtain them to show themselves.

• Play along. Don't give the suspected narcissist room to regulate their manipulation tactics – play stupid and pretend you completely believe them. Use this chance to document their behavior.

• Remain indifferent. If you want to continue handling an overt or covert narcissist for reasons out of your control, act indifferent to their behavior. The narcissist wants to use your emotions against you. If you don't give them anything to figure with, they'll seek their fix elsewhere.

• Find Support: this might only include one or two people you trust. open up to someone who will validate and believe you.

At the top of the day, the sole thanks to truly turn the tables on a narcissist are to chop them off completely. If that they had any real intentions of adjusting, they might have done so already.

The narcissist won't suddenly see things your way. If they ever do, it's – a) for a fleeting moment and b) to use against you later. Don't believe the conflicting information you would possibly see from other websites or therapists – the narcissist will never change.

With a mental disease, a chemical imbalance within the brain may cause different disturbances that manifest as depression, anxiety, and lots of others. Although complex, mental illnesses tend to reply well to medication because it targets the physical root of the problem: like a chemical imbalance. Though it's been determined that a lot of mental illnesses like depression and anxiety are frequently caused by unresolved emotional trauma, often dating as far back as childhood.

Personality disorders occur due to a repetitive stimuli-reward environment. At some point in their life, the narcissist realized they might elicit specific reactions and emotions from people – and it felt good and helped them achieve their self-fulfilling agendas.

Anything but cutting them out of your life will offer you a mental and emotional breakdown.

No Contact is that the Only Way to Packing Up A Narcissist

Many narcissists have always been this manner – whilst far back as their teenage or childhood years. If you're handling a narcissist, you can't and will not expect them to vary their behavior now or ever.

Treatment for personality disorders often involves things like cognitive behavioral therapy. In many cases, a narcissist can also suffer from other mental illnesses like depression or substance use disorder. (You've probably heard extensively about these problems, too, when the narcissist needs your sympathy or someone responsible .)

ىDespite this, there's little evidence to suggest therapy works for narcissists as personality disorders are notoriously difficult to treat. the primary step to getting assistance is to admit a drag exists – the narcissist will never believe they need or are a drag.

No Contact is that the only option.

Trust in yourself and your network. Because once you get to the opposite side and stick with No Contact, you'll be amazed by all the amazing belongings you can accomplish.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #228: TRIAL and ERROR!

February, 1983

AT LAST! The trial of Yellowjacket!

Its been over a month in-universe and about a year out of universe but here we are. The Trial of Hank Pym.

Although the time getting here was mostly farting around with other stuff while Hank sat in prison. Can you believe Scott Lang is the only person we see visit him?

The Avengers found time to experiment on an immortal child who thought jumping into the sun was a good idea but not to visit Hank?

I’m not saying that Jan should have had to put herself through that and Tony is clearly feeling too guilty over the whole thing. But Cap didn’t visit? Hawkeye didn’t? Mr. Lets Bust Hank Out?

Possibly they did off-screen. The Hank arc has been kind of suffering from Shooter’s inability to balance writing and EICing. I feel that if redone, there would be more to the arc.

Anyway, the trial!

We skipped the first two days. Its the third day of the trial now.

The graphic guy went above and beyond for that Sad Composited Hank graphic.

I like the AN AVENGER’S DARKEST HOUR thing.

I also like the setup for recapping the necessary details.

Ex-Avenger attempts to heist the government would be big news so all the information is conveyed as this news report.

INCLUDING COURTROOM SKETCHES

God, that’s good.

That’s good comicing. Amazing.

Look at Thor in a courtroom sketch. Superb.

Look at that cheesy graphic for the coverage. Does anybody in Marvel even use a domino mask?? Everything about this is amazing.

People may say that Frank Miller revolutionized using media talking heads for social commentary in his comics. Maybe. Maybe so. But how many courtroom sketches did he include? Huh?

So apparently the reason why we’re on day three of the trial is that days one and two were entirely debates over whether Hank was even fit to stand trial.

I’d’ve thought they would get that out of the way ahead of time.

And Hank wants his day in court. So who was arguing he wasn’t fit to stand trial? The prosecution?

Apparently, the prosecution tried to argue that Hank’s history as a hero made his crimes more heinous, as a legal argument.

Which, uh? Um? Uh?

The defense objected that this was prejudicial but they were overruled.

The news recap ends when She-Hulk turns off the television angrily for reminding her of her legal career.

She-Hulk: “Leeches! I haven’t met Henry Pym, but he can’t be the creep they’re making him out to be! And that prosecutor -- ! I know it’s his job, but do they all have to be sanctimonious?! I hated that when I was a practicing attorney, and I don’t hate it any less since I’ve become She-Hulk!”

Reminds me that her nemesis in her original Savage She-Hulk book was an Assistant DA called Buck Bukowski who was a real sexist douche.

He mellowed out over the course of the book, mostly by learning that a death he blamed She-Hulk for was sorta his fault, but I wonder if she left LA so she wouldn’t be tempted to throw him out to sea.

She-Hulk is also still super bored (in New York??) and wanders downstairs to see if anyone is up to anything interesting.

Downstairs in the gym, she finds that the Caps are training.

The Captains America and Marvel.

Cap(tain America) is doing some combat training with Captain Monica Marvel.

This will not be at all confusing to have them on the same team.

Anyway, this training sequence is amazing so lets just have it all:

Cool stuff, Caps.

The training has to be cut short because Cap(tain America) has a prior commitment but still good stuff.

She-Hulk applauds Captain Marvel’s showing but Marvel waves it off as thanks to Cap(tain America)’s training. Which Cap(tain America) waves off as thanks to her being a quick study.

Its like a self-perpetuating modesty loop in here.

Cap excuses himself to go to his prior engagement.

Captain Marvel: “It’s easy to see why he’s called a living legend! He’s very good! And his grasp of strategy is second to none!”

She-Hulk: “Yeah, he does pretty well for a guy with no powers, but I could take him!”

What a this era of She-Hulk thing to say, She-Hulk.

Captain Marvel tells She-Hulk hey maybe not! Cap has stood up to some pretty tough customers, including Jen’s cousin the Hulk.

Which She-Hulk didn’t know!

Y’know, after Bruce (or recently implied to be Joe Fixit Actually??) started Jen’s origin story, the Hulk has not much further relevance in the Savage She-Hulk book. Jen doesn’t even give any indication that she’s keeping up with his exploits.

Not surprising, since the book was trying to be its own thing. And Jen’s life just starts to implode not very far into her solo so she doesn’t have time to also worry about Bruce.

Captain Marvel mentions that all of Cap(tain America)’s run-ins with the Hulk are recorded in the Avengers computer archives and She-Hulk concedes she should give that a look.

Hey, she finally has something to do in New York!

Captain Marvel also tells She-Hulk that she’s going to head home.

She-Hulk: “You have a place in the city?”

Captain Marvel: “Not this city... New Orleans.”

She-Hulk: “NEW ORLEANS?!?”

Captain Marvel: “Sure! It’s a snap to commute -- when you can travel at the speed of light! Take care!”

And then she nyooms off!

NYOOM!

It’s a good point! I hadn’t considered it but yeah, Monica can just commute. No need to uproot her life to become an Avenger.

I guess that’s why the decision was so easy for her to make.

She-Hulk is still at the window, wishing she could lightspeed to Malibu, when Thor and Janet arrive from court.

Janet thanks Thor for coming to court with her. Which he says no big to because “Time given to one’s friends is well spent. Would that I had given more time to poor Henry before this.”

You’re a cool guy, Thor.

The mention of Hank has Jan break down a little.

Jan: “Oh, Thor! Why has this happened to us... to all of us? We’re Avengers!”

Thor: “But still we are human -- aye, even a ‘god’ such as I! None of us are immune to wounds of the spirit. We err... we misunderstand. Janet? Is there anything more I can do?”

Jan: “No! No... I’m all right! We mustn’t dwell on the past. The future’s all that matters!”

Thor: “But...”

Jan: “I don’t want to talk about it anymore!”

Geez.

We’ve seen how affected the Avengers have been by what Hank has done and what they think he has done. We’ve seen Jan is more messed up by it than the smile she puts on lets on.

But the plaintive questioning of how this could be happening to the Avengers still hits hard.

Thor respects Jan’s wish to end the discussion to the frustration of She-Hulk who has been watching this conversation from the upstairs window.

She’s frustrated that Jan won’t just let it out, that Thor just let the subject drop.

She-Hulk: “It’s that blasted Avengers’ tradition of ‘respecting the privacy of members’ personal affairs.’ The founding members carry it too far! Can’t they see how it hurts them? And Jan -- ? Why does she hold in all that grief and heartache? Why doesn’t she cry and scream and shout and get it out of her system?!”

Jen and Jan are two very different people!

But She-Hulk, and Hulks generally, are about letting your feelings out. And Jan van Wasp has long been about playing the flighty sprite.

I’d crack joke about She-Hulk being this invested in the drama of the Avengers already but Jan is her friend. They presumably went car shopping together.

And She-Hulk has very few friends and almost zero female friends. Her one female friend died in a convoluted car accident and then She-Hulk mostly had a male supporting cast. Thank goodness she’s here on the Avengers with its two whole other women.

Meanwhile, at Stark International, Cap(tain America) has come to pay a visit.

He hasn’t been able to reach Tony in days. And Tony’s secretary told him that Tony has locked himself away in his private lab and that he doesn’t want to see anyone.

But if he didn’t want to see anyone, he should have thought twice about making it so that the security system will let in any Cap that flashes an Avengers ID.

Cap is particularly worried because of that nasty argument they had about Tony dating Jan. Tony has been pretty down since they broke up and Cap doesn’t want to see him fall apart like Hank did.

And.

Tony is. Doing. Maybe not okay.

He’s sweating a lot and unshaven and monomaniacally focused on a project.

Cap finds him holding up an enormous piece of machinery and doing SCIENCE.

This is the final evolution of Tony’s guilty conscience regarding Hank Pym.

Iron Man: “Remember how Moondragon used her mental powers to mess with our heads? Well, it’s my theory that she’s responsible for Hank’s recent troubles! I aim to prove that with this cerebral scanner! This baby should tell us whether or not Hank did the crazy things he did because of some outside mental influence! I hope I’m right!”

I mean, he raises a fair point! I don’t think its the case because what would it have benefited Moondragon to make Hank do what he did? And if its an inadvertent thing, she mind controlled a lot of people when the roster change-up was happening back in #211 so why did only Hank get affected? Plus, it doesn’t really match up with what both Hank and Jan have been saying about his behavior deteriorating before then.

But, Tony is going to Tony. And he, like many fans and writers and editors, just want a simple nonsense explanation that can make a distressing thing go away.

Cap points out that the ginormous machine can’t exactly be dragged down to the courthouse but this is just the prototype. Tony is going to have a miniaturized version ready by Monday.

Cap: “I see. Tony, how long have you been up?”

Iron Man: “I don’t know... 30... 40 hours, maybe. What difference does it make?”

Cap: “It makes plenty! You’ve had some rough sledding lately... You can’t keep on driving yourself this way!”

Iron Man: “But I have to do something for Hank. I feel that I let him down... In so many ways.”

Cap: “You can’t help him if you kill yourself in the process!”

Tony is going to Tony. I think that in some ways he might have a more overdeveloped guilt complex than Peter Parker or Matt Murdock.

For Reasons, I’ve taken a look at how things are going in the Iron Man book around this time and oof. Poor Tony.

Over in Leonia, New Jersey, Vision and Scarlet Witch are watching the trial coverage on the news and-

Okay.

1.) How do you make watching the network news so moody and dramatic, Vision? Do you ever actually relax?

2.) Do you two just wear your costumes around the house? Surely you must have other clothes? Vision? Do you have other clothes?

Some other stuff is that Wanda has been holding up Jan and Hank as the ideal marriage so this whole thing has been weirding her out. Although Vision has had a less rosy opinion of it, having been there for it with all of the marrying the split personality nonsense involved.

Although I don’t know why issue #68 is referenced. I don’t think that had anything to do with anything. Issue #60 is where the wedding happened.

Bet whoever put that caption wishes they had access to the internet.

I kind of wish we got more stuff like earlier, got to see Avengers not currently on the team and other heroes that worked with Hank Pym reacting to his disgrace exit from the team and then arrest. Wish we could have had Vision and Wanda try to visit him in jail.

Meanwhile, Long Island Sound.

A LOCATION OF EVIL

A suited man arrives and knocks on 13308 McKinley.

He is Dr. Chen Lu and he is expected.

Moonstone/Dr. Karla Sofen meets Dr. Chen Lu at the door and shows him in to the secret science basement where Egghead is running an experiment with the latest scientific equipment that can be begged, borrowed, or stolen.

I’m figuring... mostly stolen? Right? Like Egghead’s plan was to steal all the resources he needed? Because, ugh Effort?

Moonstone interrupts Egghead to let him know Dr. Chen Lu has arrived and Egghead is thrilled! He rushes from his seat to shake his hand.

And the sentiment is returned by Dr. Chen Lu who is eager to join Egghead’s project.

Y’know, Egghead is a jerk and is stealing all of his resources but his project will hugely improve medical science and he’s getting criminal scientists off the street and into some actual science jobs they can be excited about.

Dr. Chen asks how Egghead isn’t dead because he was pretty sure he was told Egghead was dead. And Egghead sure has a tale to tell!

In Defender #43, Egghead set up Cobalt Man to reach critical mass and explode to distract the Defenders so he could steal a magical star. When Cobalt Man found out, he was pretty pissed and decided to blow up Egghead.

Egghead: “We had a bit of a falling out, you might say... and he ended the situation most dramatically. Witnesses actually assumed we’d both perished. In actuality, I had been teleported by an experimental mechanism to relative safety in the New Jersey swamps... and unlike death, one can usually return from the state of New Jersey!”

Damn, Egghead! Criminal genius that you are, you’ve found the only New Jersey joke I’ve ever laughed at! Fiend!

I think its the glasses adjusting what does it.

Anyway, Egghead’s and Dr. Chen’s cool conversation gets interrupted by Tiger Shark and Shocker bursting through the ceiling fighting.

Beetle flies in after them and apologizes for the mess but says ‘really Shocker had it coming, man, fuck Shocker.’

Beetle and Moonstone jump in to separate the two.

Hey, you might be wondering how the Masters of Evil are out of jail when last time we saw them was getting arrested after attacking the Avengers like dumbasses?

Check that panel where Iron Man is lifting a really heavy thing. There’s a news broadcast about a bunch of prison escapes. Good job on the same issue setup, Stern!

Shocker complains that Tiger Shark called him a two-bit hood but Tiger Shark says in his defense that Shocker IS a two-bit hood (Not inaccurate...) who nearly screwed up the isotope heist. But Egghead says that Shocker is an important part of the operation.

Then Tiger Shark notices Dr. Chen Lu and says a slur.

C’mon, guy. Don’t be like that.

Dr. Chen Lu: “Speaking without thinking seems to be second nature to you, Tiger Shark. In the interest of our future partnership, I shall excuse the insult to my race... this time! But I warn you, do not use that word in my presence again, or you shall answer to -- THE RADIOACTIVE MAN!”

Tiger Shark hurriedly says that obviously he didn’t mean to offend. Because Dr. Chen Lu Radioactive Man fwooshed into his green skin (dammit comics whats with you and Asian people and green skin?) radioactive form and costume.

But with Radioactive Man on the team, the Masters of Evil are finally complete and ready for the next step of EGGHEAD’S BOLD PLAN.

Meanwhile, Hawkeye returns to his apartment from his day job, kind of looking a steady paycheck in the mouth. Sure the big wad of bucks is nice but its sooo boring. Thank goodness he has Avengersing to keep things exciting.

He then sings a short bit about “Best of both worlds -- !” because Hawkeye.

Hawkeye sees the news broadcast about the Hank Pym trial and even though he hasn’t been called to testify (because he wasn’t part of the team when Hank was caught with his hands in the government’s cookie jar) he figures what the heck, he’ll go to the trial anyway to show moral support.

And he does! In full costume!

In fairness, so are Thor and Captain America.

I guess Captain America and Hawkeye don’t have publicly revealed identities. But they couldn’t have thrown a suit on Thor?

Please put Thor in a suit. For reasons.

She-Hulk and Wasp are wearing nice court clothes.

Although She-Hulk seems uncomfortable in her nice court clothes.

(By the by, She-Hulk showing up at all makes Hawkeye warm up to her a little, since he figures that in her own way she cares about being an Avenger as much as he does.)

By the way, notice who wasn’t in that picture? Hawkeye leans over to whisper to Cap where is Iron Man? Annnnd Cap thinks maybe he just got wrapped up in his cerebral scanner project.

At this point in the trial (day 4), Hank has finally been called up to the stand to testify on his own behalf.

So, of course, given Hank Pym’s luck, the courtroom explodes.

What a dynamite conclusion to this arc!

The Masters of Evil (Moonstone, Radioactive Man, Tiger Shark, Shocker, and Beetle) jump into the court through the exploded ceiling, grab Hank Pym, have Shocker blow up the load bearing wall, and then run out while the Avengers are distracted holding up the entire ceiling!

An action scene fast enough that I can believe, yes, the Avengers didn’t have time to react to it before it happened.

But Thor is strong enough to hold up the ceiling, so Wasp orders Cap to get the crowd to safety and has She-Hulk and Hawkeye follow her to go after the Masters.

Cap: “Jan’s really coming into her own as group leader! Even Hawkeye’s snapping to at her orders!”

Good. I’m glad that people keep telling me that Wasp is doing a good job as Avengers leader.

Seriously. Given the way that the Avengers book handles teamwork and the idea that the Avengers even have a leader sometimes, I’m glad that the book is explicitly conveying that Wasp is doing good.

Hawkeye net-arrows Tiger Shark, She-Hulk tackles Radioactive Man, Wasp confronts Beetle, and nobody confronts Shocker because its just Shocker.

Beetle scoffs at Wasp trying to stop him but has to eat his words pretty soon. Her Wasp stings being souped up in this recent stretch of comics hasn’t stopped being a thing.

Beetle: “Ow! Maybe I was the one who spoke too soon! Even with my armor, I can feel a little of the Wasp’s bio-stings! If I can’t shake her, she might blow my micro-circuits!”

Very glad that Wasp continues to be an effective fighter in her own right and not just the distraction ‘fly around and pester people.’

She-Hulk just throws Radioactive Man out of the panel, mocking him for being green as her without any of her sweet moves.

Tiger Shark wants another go at She-Hulk after the way she stomped him in #222 but.

Oops guess I shouldn’t have mocked Shocker. Since he was ignored, he can sneak up behind She-Hulk and use HIGH INTENSITY VIBRO-SHOCKS to rattle her bones to dust.

Except, no. I should have mocked Shocker, a little.

Because even though the HIGH INTENSITY VIBRO-SHOCK rattles She-Hulk so that she chatters out “T-t-think a-a-again, y-y-you w-w-walking q-q-quilt!”, she grabs Shocker’s hands and holds him up in the air for Hawkeye to short out Shocker’s gauntlets with a couple of magno-volt arrows.

Shocker crumples, confused because one of the other Masters was supposed to be covering Hawkeye.

Radioactive Man tackles She-Hulk so She-Hulk just belts him away.

So Radioactive Man concedes, well, okay, She-Hulk is stronger than him. But brute force and being green aren’t the extent of his powers. He’s also radioactive, radioactive. 

He hits She-Hulk with a controlled burst of gamma rays, which shifts her back into Jennifer Walters.

Hey, Jen! First time you’ve appeared in this book in this form.

She’s less than pleased. In fact, she starts screaming “No! Not this!!” and begging someone to help her.

Thankfully, the Masters put her out of mind as not a problem anymore.

And the dominoes fall.

Tiger Shark smacks Wasp out of the air, freeing Beetle to blast Hawkeye. And nobody can stop Moonstone from nerve pinching Hank Pym and pulling him into a truck.

Thor and Cap run out of the courthouse, presumably having gotten everyone to safety.

Thor: “Ho, villains! You’ve not won the day yet! Not as long as a single Avenger stands!”

Thor do what Thor do and what Thor do is throw Mjolnir.

Exceppppt its at Radioactive Man and Radioactive Man can still deflect Mjolnir with energy fields. Radiation can do that. Mjolnir doesn’t exist in real life so we can’t prove that radiation can’t do that.

Radioactive Man deflects Mjolnir right at Captain America. He gets his shield up in time but it still knocks him on his ass.

The Masters all book it into the truck while the Avengers get to their feet.

Wasp orders Hawkeye to shoot out the tires to the truck. But before he can and before it can be fruitless, a getaway truck explodes out of the truck and flies off more quickly than the Avengers can chase.

And by “the Masters all book it into the truck” I mean, “except Shocker” because they ditched him.

With the Masters escaped, Wasp turns on the shocked Shocker and rips off his mask and demands he tell them where the Masters are going.

But the shocked Shocker is too shocked to answer. He seems out of it, really.

So Wasp changes the question. Who is behind this? Why did they want to kidnap Hank Pym?

Shocker: “Why? It... it was his idea! Dr. Pym’s idea... He arranged for us to free him!”

DUN DUN DUUUUU- no wait we know thats not it

whats your game shocker

Sometime later, Hank Pym wakes up in Egghead’s lab. And, of course, immediately leaps up to kick the shit out of Egghead as soon as he sees him.

Alas, Tiger Shark holds him back.

Egghead: “Don’t restrain him too tightly, Tiger Shark! He’s of no use to us injured!”

Hank Pym: “I’ll ‘use’ you, Egghead! You’re responsible for ruining my life! You manipulated me into stealing that government adamantium... and set me up, when your scheme failed! You’re mad if you think you can make me help you now!”

Egghead: “Pish-tosh!”

Good rejoinder, Egghead.

God, this also cracks me up.

Egghead says that he’s in the middle of a great experiment and that he needs the world’s greatest biochemist, Hank Pym.

Hank is still on the ‘why the hell do you think I’ll help you, I hate you so much.’

So Egghead has the tv turned on.

Anchorman, Non Burgundy: “... Authorities were stunned by the news that Dr. Pym had planned his own abduction! The Avengers refused to comment on the Shocker’s confession, but polygraph experts confirmed --”

Egghead explains that Shocker was a patsy. His gauntlets were secretly rewired with special circuits that brainwashed him into believing what Egghead wanted him to. So thoroughly that it fooled a lie detector.

Egghead: “As far as the world is concerned, Henry, you are now most assuredly a criminal. No one will believe otherwise. Not the police... not even your former friends. You have no one to turn to in this world... except us! Join the Masters of Evil, Henry! We will give you a new life!”

Hank Pym: “All right... I’ll do it!”

DUN DUN DUN!!

Wow, so I guess Egghead wasn’t just being petty. He was also systematically destroying what little was left of Hank’s life to force him to work on SCIENCE project with him.

Proving his innocence and ‘getting his dignity back’ was all Hank had left to him.

Geez, sucks to be Hank Pym!

Psst, follow @essential-avengers​? Like and reblog?

[seyaryminamoto]

What would you have thought if the Kumurikage from the Avatar comics were real, and not a hoax? And that it really was the spirits that kidnapped the kids. And that the kidnappings were the spirits way of “restoring balance to the world” by making the fire nation pay for their crimes. And that Aang(and possibly Azula) must figure out a way to stop the kidnappings and figure out how to applease the spirits.

Well, damn, Anon... you see, I generally just don’t like the overuse of spiritual beings that a lot of post-canon ATLA content has relied on. Spirits, as LOK Book 2 proved, have to be handled in a very thoughtful way and canon doesn’t often do that, at least not in the comics and in LOK. ATLA Books 1 and 2 did it really well because spirits felt utterly unpredictable, from the most inoffensive ones to the most dangerous ones. You absolutely could feel that there was something otherworldly to how they behaved, to how they saw the world... whereas I never had that same feeling when I read Yang’s comics (nor with LOK Book 2). Whether because the spirits had some remarkably simple, even human-like motivations, or because they were easily roped into service of a human just because the plot demanded it (Unalaq... just, Unalaq...), it just felt off, and the Kemurikage might feel off similarly if they’re not handled properly.

I guess the thing is... even just the concept of spirits stealing kids to make the Fire Nation pay for their crimes sounds like they’d be too concerned with human reality? And I’m not sure that’d really suit spirits, at least, not the way I like to see them...

To break down what I mean: Hei Bai gets angry that the forest was burned down, and goes on a rampage that affects humans all around. Hei Bai saw no difference, fundamentally, between the humans who destroyed and the humans who didn’t... until Aang showed him the forest could be regrown. Hei Bai wasn’t attacking the village because he blamed the villagers... he was attacking in retaliation for the forest burning, an emotional, volatile reaction that only stopped when his problem was, more or less, resolved. It was irrational entirely, and highly dangerous because there was no telling just what the spirit was doing or if his actions would do a lot of harm to innocent people.

Secondly, Koh: what does Koh obtain from stealing faces? I mean, sure, he has a collection of faces, but they serve no particular purpose, do they? If he just wants to kill for the thrill of it, he doesn’t need to steal anyone’s face for it. Yet... stealing faces is what he does. That’s his power. It’s cruel, it’s creepy, it’s the subject of horror films, really xD and part of what makes it terrifying is that in the case of Koh, there’s NO REASON, no stated logic to it, he just does it because he has that power and finds amusement in destroying lives the way he does. Koh steals from animals, from humans, from spirits, from whatever he wants... just because he can. It’s not all that different from the reasoning of the Fire Nation, attacking and destroying just because they can: in fact, the Fire Nation has more ideological basis for what they do, more reasons behind which to make excuses for the destruction they’ve waged, than Koh does. Neither, of course, is justified, but Koh is notoriously unnatural because... this is just what Koh IS. A face-stealer. He gives zero shits about hurting anyone, probably even finds amusement in it... this guy is one nasty piece of work, and he’s a spirit. Which tells you... spirits aren’t simply pure and good beings. There’s some like Koh who are DEADLY. That he has no sob story (in the show) only makes him extra daunting and effective.

Thirdly... Wan Shi Tong. This guy is probably the most straightforward of all, and precisely because of that, he’s really interesting and I despise how he was written in LOK :’D but in ATLA, Wan Shi Tong outright says one of the most poignant lines of the show when he tells Team Avatar that they’re not the only ones who think their war is justified. It’s not an excuse of the Fire Nation, obviously not: but it’s criticism of war as a whole, of human violence perpetrated for whatever their reasons may be. Wan Shi Tong doesn’t give a flying fuck about their reasons, Fire Nation or not: he only cares about his library and knowledge. If these people put his library and its contents at risk over a war he must consider pathetic...? He’s not going to take it lying down. Like Hei Bai, who prioritizes his forest, Wan Shi Tong prioritizes his library and acquiring knowledge: anything that threatens his potential acquisition and preservation of knowledge is the ultimate offense against this creature. If humans are going to bring their violence into his library, he’ll be violent right back to protect his knowledge. And he’ll also isolate himself by sinking his library as deep as he wishes because... why wouldn’t he? xD if he wants to keep humans away, there’s no better way to do so than to keep his library to himself.

These three examples show there’s an inhumane simplicity to these spirits: they’re absolutely bound to be violent for their own reasons, when what they prize most is in danger, for instance. There’s also those who are dangerous just because they can, like Koh: then there’s others who are good and helpful to humans, like Tui and La (then you even have La as an example: when Tui is killed, La goes on a rampage against the killer, taking advantage of Aang’s spiritual power to do so, but La absolutely targets the enemy, La doesn’t murder the Water Tribe people willy-nilly), or even the lion-turtles. Basically? You never know what you get with spirits, and that’s the part that was really interesting about them in ATLA. The lion-turtles do feel a little more convenient and helpful because the whole role of the creature was to bestow power upon Aang just because... but there’s a shroud of mystery around it that still works, you know? No one knows where the lion-turtle took Aang, how it entranced him, why it showed up right then and there... it’s still mysterious enough that it works, as far as I can tell.

Meanwhile, LOK simplified matters so much... even featuring Wan Shi Tong somehow striking an alliance with Unalaq and being supportive of Vaatu? Why would he give a flying fuck about Unalaq and Vaatu? Why would he help them kidnap Jinora? What does that have to do with Wan Shi Tong’s long-established priority: knowledge? Instead, they featured him saying that Unalaq “was a good friend to the spirits”. Like... like the spirits are nationalistic or something? Why would it matter one bit to Wan Shi Tong if Unalaq wants Vaatu’s kite? :’D and that’s exactly what I’m referring to when I say that I dislike spirits serving human purposes: it steals from the otherworldly, starkly non-human behavior of these entities, and renders them as simple plot devices rather than actual characters.

As for Yang... I hate the Mother of Faces. Her design is interesting, but not only is she profoundly inconsistent, she destroyed part of what made Koh so intriguing by establishing a completely confusing concept of spirit motherhood and by playing it as though Koh steals faces “to feel closer to his mommy”. Why... why would you do this. Why would anyone feel the need to do this. Why would they need any connection in the first place. Why would that connection have anything to do with the Mother of Faces turning into a lamp genie and handing out wishes left and right, when she had already established she only granted ONE WISH per human encounter... *siiiiiiiiiigh* it feels so wrong to me, and it again makes spirits so unnecessarily human. Why. Just... why.

Thus, I wouldn’t want the Kemurikage to be real if they would only turn out... like that. Stealing Fire Nation children in some sort of vindictive spree to punish the Fire Nation when the war is FINALLY over...? It sounds a little weird. With the storyline established by the comic itself (though I’d honestly never hold that too close to heart, I really disliked that so-called origin of the Fire Nation...), these spirits came to be because a warlord stole all their children and they were taking revenge for that. That, at least, still sounds in-line with the logic that spirits have a specific purpose in mind, right? So... if no one’s stealing children, they probably shouldn’t show up to steal them themselves spontaneously. If they were concerned with the war and the Fire Nation’s lack of balance, they could’ve punished the Fire Nation back when Sozin was in power since that’s when it all began. Why punish it when Zuko shows up and ends the war?

In the end... I’d say if there’s no clear means to keep the spirits in question as otherworldly and non-human as possible, I don’t want stories with spirits. I think, for a story where spirits force Aang to work with Azula somehow to protect the Fire Nation, we’d need a wholly different concept, and not the Kemurikage. Just to use a quick and REALLY SOLID example from Inuyasha... there’s a spirit there from a one-time episode that plays a flute to guide the souls of dead children whether to heaven or hell. Its eyes are closed when everything’s going well, but if a child resists, the eyes start to open and if they open fully... it means the kid’s going to hell. Dark, ey? It’s a single episode and yet it nearly made me cry xD but the point of the comparison is... this spirit has a duty, of a sort. It’s not “stealing” children, it’s herding them off to the next life. What happens in the episode is that one particular soul of a very bitter and frustrated little girl refuses to heed the soul piper’s call because she’s taking “revenge” on her brother, whom she blames for her death (along with her mother): the girl’s defiance results in the spirit nearly dragging her to hell, and the protagonist has to do everything she can to rescue the girl’s spirit and in the end, the girl’s realization that she’d misunderstood her mother and brother, who of course never wanted her dead, makes her change her mind about them and the spirit gives her a second chance when it senses she’s changed indeed. There’s no morality to the duty of the piper, not really: if the child’s a rotten apple, it goes to hell. Unless the child proves NOT to be a rotten apple, as the girl did last minute, there’s no changing the spirit’s mind. If the child’s a good kid, the spirit will just herd the child off and nothing bad happens.

How to apply a story like this to ATLA? Well, it’s obviously hard to say xD but my point is... if any other spirits would show up in future stories, if there’s going to be any more of them doing... anything? It should be along the likes of Books 1 and 2, or like this soul piper. A spirit with its own concerns, with its own duties, who either coexists with humans peacefully or exists completely apart from them until whatever they care about is threatened... but not a spirit that goes on a furious rampage against humans because the crush who friendzoned him died and he assumes humans killed her. Not a spirit who has an established behavior that she then sets aside immediatley just because. Not a spirit that has some sort of random stake on the state of the human world when that’s not their dwelling and they probably see little to no difference between warring nations. Hence... the Kemurikage as a concept probably would be best off left, in my opinion, as a matter of lore rather than anything that should be making a comeback in Zuko’s era. If some other spiritual entity causes trouble in the future, I’d rather it were written with a different set of beliefs and understanding of the world rather than making them excessively human... the way all of Yang’s spirits were. Just... defeats the purpose of making them spirits if they’re essentialy humans with fancy weird powers beyond bending.

... At any rate, I’m not saying there’s anything inherently wrong with taking this storytelling route... just that I, personally, don’t find the Kemurikage all that interesting as a concept, not as the spirits they’re supposed to be, not as villainous entities. If you, personally, want to write this, you’re 100% free to do so and to explore these sorts of storylines. Just... it’s not my cup of tea, and I doubt it ever will be.

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Grisly, Grim and a Fucking Delight: Feedback Review

TRIGGER WARNING: Torture, rape, daytime radio DJs. Don’t blame me, that’s just what’s in the movie.

Wow. Wow and a half. Wow and a half between two slices of thick white whoa. What a fucking movie. I’d say something like ‘they don’t make ‘em like that any more’, but they clearly do, because Feedback only came out a few years ago. I am astonished that I didn’t hear about it until tonight. You see, I was looking for an epic, slow-burn thriller to watch with my girlfriend and glamorous assistant, and I came across this little British movie about a radio talk-show host getting trapped in his studio when a bunch of masked psychos invade the premises. “Neat!” I thought upon reading the synopsis and watching the advert. “It’s Diehard but without schlubby, sarcastic Brits instead of overblown yanks.” As it turns out, I was wrong. Feedback is not an enjoyable but ultimately inconsequential gas pocket of a movie: it’s actually one of the most tense, conceptually horrifying and incendiary pieces of cinema- nay, Cinema with a capital C- that I’ve ever had the good fortune to witness. The more I think about it, the more impressed and enamoured I become. Unfortunately, in order to explain why, I’m going to have to spoil the whole freaking thing. For those of you who actually watch movies based on my recommendations (which would be, maybe, like two of you?) I’ll give you a nice non-spoilery recommendation right now: the acting is on-point, the plot is serpentine but not in a pretentious way, every prop and narrative element is used to maximum effect, the atmosphere gets tenser and tenser without ever letting you catch your breath and it’s exactly as long as it needs to be: there’s nothing missing and not an ounce of spare meat on it. It’s a lean, nasty predator of a movie and, if you let it, it will pin you down and rip out your jugular. I’ve only ever described one other movie as ‘transcendent’- a little psychological horror called The Perfection. Well, Feedback gets that exact same sticker but for completely different reasons. If you’re going to watch it- and you should- stop reading this review right now and go do it. It’s amazing.

And now for the spoilers. Consider this more of an analysis than a review. You see, the film reveals early on that the masked psychos invading the studio aren’t just randos with a political or philosophical axe to grind. They have beef with the radio host (whose name is Jarvis, incidentally. You don’t see enough Jarvises, either in real life or in movies. It’s a fun name and grossly underused, but I digress). You see, they think Jarvis’s friend raped a woman, killed another woman and beat the shit out of her boyfriend… and they think Jarvis knows all about it and may even have been involved. They force Jarvis to extract a confession from his friend early on and then kill him live on air, meaning that the rest of the film is devoted to a battle of wills between them and Jarvis as they try to force him to admit complicity, again live on air. Along the way, it’s also revealed that they aren’t just crusaders: they’re survivors of the incident and relatives thereof. Now, from the moment all these pieces were in place, I watched with an expectation of being disappointed. You see, I thought I knew what I was watching: Jarvis is visually and linguistically coded as am older slightly privileged but spiky elitist, so in most movies made after 2010 he’d automatically have been the bad guy (fuck me but do ageing white movie directors love to pretend they’re ‘woke’), while the people attacking him are visually and linguistically coded as youngish (except in one case) and victims, meaning that, in most movies, they would automatically be the good guys (hey, everyone loves an underdog, right?). I assumed I was watching one of those films. You know the ones I mean. One of those oh-so-clever ones that gets you to connect with and root for a character then reveals that he’s a shit-bag and punishes him and- by extension- you the viewer for taking his side. That was clever once, but I’ve now seen it on at least eight separate occasions, and it’s become trite. It’s particularly irksome because the victim-coded characters always get a free pass for their own shenanigans: they can murder, torture, brutalise and dehumanise but it’s always okay because something bad once happened to them. Frankly, I thought that’s what I was in for. Luckily. I was super wrong. That’s like regular wrong, only sexier and with sharper graphics.

You see, Feedback is way too smart to go for a black-and-white good-victims-versus-evil-central-character narrative. Instead, it’s a film about dehumanisation… or is it? You’ll see what I mean. In order to force Jarvis to admit complicity, his assailants don’t just fuck with him and his friend: they straight-up murder an innocent bystander and threaten to murder someone close to the protagonist. They hurt and do terrible things to Jarvis and the people around him, using torture methods that would make fucking ISIS throw up its hands and go ‘steady on, bruv’. They have a version of events that they’re convinced of but have only one unreliable character’s word for and Jarvis has a version of events that they refuse, point-blank, to believe. Jarvis’s story does begin to alter, but it’s never really apparent if he’s actually done something or if he’s just saying he has in order to keep the people around him (and himself) alive. Meanwhile, the ringleader of the little troop trying to extract a confession from Jarvis might be victim, but it also becomes apparent that she’s an unhinged psychopath intent on spilling as much blood as possible for her own personal sense of satisfaction and has as much interest in justice as a black hole has in the history of the stars it swallows up. Hooray! Some fucking moral ambiguity in a movie! I thought the entire industry had just forgotten how to fucking do that!

Much to my delight, Feedback doesn’t stop there. Merely by forcing the audience to make up their own minds about what they think happened and who’s actions are most justified, Feedback is already introducing a level of sophistication alien to modern cinema. But then it goes one step further by also subverting narrative expectations. You see, in a bleak, introspective, what-monsters-are-we-all flick like this, you expect the antagonists’ plan to succeed: you expect the last shot to be of the protagonist broken by the moral blankness of his reality, sitting in the wreckage of his life, unsure of whether he deserves what has happened to him or not. And that would have been a perfectly acceptable way to end this movie. But it doesn’t end like that. Because Jarvis is that rarest of things: a competent and determined dude. He’s not a superhuman. He doesn’t have special training. The flick doesn’t turn into an action movie or anything ridiculous. Jarvis just refuses to accept the bullshit happening to him and systematically works through every possible strategy to extricate himself without caving and admitting culpability that he doesn’t feel. He tries reasoned negotiation. He tries subduing one of the assailants temporarily and using them as a bargaining chip (the minimum necessary force approach), he tries escape and, finally, when all else fails, he uses a combination of psychology, surprise and familiarity with his environment to fight back with lethal force. It’s a considered, intelligent approach and, because his assailants aren’t organised terrorists just ordinary people who may (or may not) have a legit grievance with him, it succeeds and- to cut a long story short- he kills all of them in incredibly satisfying ways. There’s a bit involving a smug, I-can-be-as-evil-as-I-like-because-I’m-a-victim character getting skewered with a pair of scissors that instantly outranks anything in the Saw or Friday the 13th franchises as one of my all-time favourite movie kills (outright all-time favourite still goes to that bit in John Wick 3 with the really creative use of a library book, but that’s off topic).

During the climatic scenes of the movie, Jarvis screams his confession, but- as I said- it might only be a tool to distract his attackers and gain the upper hand while preserving the lives of the people he cares about. Equally, though, it might not. There’s a coldness to the character at the end of the film that wasn’t there at the beginning. Has he just been changed by the trauma of recent events, or are we seeing the facade drop away to reveal the true face of ruthless monster? And here lies the film’s final genius: not only doesn’t it answer this question (ambiguity for the win!) it also seems to suggest that the answer might not matter. Jarvis didn’t prevail because he was innocent- though he might be. His attackers didn’t fail because they became as bad as the thing they sought to fight (though they did). Victory and defeat aren’t defined by moral superiority. The film doesn’t assign winners and loser based on ethical or philosophical standpoint. Jarvis wins because he knows what the fuck he’s doing and his attackers are a bunch of overemotional quarter-wits with a half-baked plan that they can’t even stick to because they get too worked up. Survival, Feedback reminds us, has everything to do with being good at things, and fuck all to do with just being good. At every turn, the film tries to convince us that it has a moral point to make. Characters talk endlessly about truth and lies, justice and injustice… but in the end, it’s all smoke and mirrors. The film doesn’t have a central moral thesis (or, if it does, it’s a profoundly nihilistic one). Its real subjects are survival and will. It’s a study of what happens when two packets of brutal, remorseless determination meet eachother coming in opposite directions. It’s a dissection of the self-preservation instinct and its only real moral is ‘don’t fuck with a smart, grimly determined guy on his home turf if all you have to bring to the table is a short fuse and a big hammer’. Maybe that shouldn’t be refreshing, but in a cinematic landscape where every movie is determined to plant its flag on one side or the other of the political or ethical spectrum, it really fucking is. The fact that it gets you to think about ethical issues and who you believe on route elevates it, but the core of the film- the thing that makes it solid- is that refreshing element of nihilism. Breathe it in, folks: we don’t get many movies like this very often.

[generallypo]

move over maschenny, we’ve got a hotter and cooler Khun princess in the tower now.

introducing Khun Aguero Jahad, the one and only princess that Jahad actually, sincerely hopes never wins the competition.

excessive rambling under the cut + a short fic under that. all my warnings are dead and void as of now. cheers!

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

i sat on my salt for a couple of days -- and then finally, finally decided to do something about it. my previous TOG post kinda went ham on that. yeehaw.

i imagine jahadprincess!khun is a little more snakey than the original (is that possible?). having climbed the tower at a blistering pace following her selection, she’s also a more competent fighter, though it additionally means she needs to use her brain less. though she plays more by her family’s and Jahad’s rules, she’s not particularly ruled by her bloodlust in the way Maschenny is, or utter complacency like Repellista. her outfit is shamelessly ripped off of Yuri’s and the casual officewear aesthetic khun sports in s1.

anyways, i did The Big Write. it has been 3 years since i have attempted such a thing. the process was complicated and stressful, i drank milk tea to compensate. i wanted to depict the moment of a big decision in which a characteristically selfish person does something shockingly altruistic, as well as the bystander who questions her motives. it’s not quite khunbam, more like an intense, one-sided dedication and some sorely needed soul searching. 

played fast and loose with characterization, timelines, general TOG canon while banging out this beast. like every middle child, i’m not super proud of it, but it gets the job done. i had a great time with it! really!

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

Unsurprisingly, it’s Yuri who finds her first. 

Her heels, lustrous and scarlet, click faintly on the rooftop tiles, and their mild echo belies nothing of the thunder on her face, or the sibilant presence of the Black March at her side. Aguero turns to meet her, inclines her head in response. 

“Why, princess Yuri. It’s a pleasure, as always.”

“Cut the crap, Aguero,” she snaps. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Aguero raises her hands. From one of them, Manbarondenna dangles innocently, unclasped buckles gleaming under fake starlight. 

“Waiting for my ride. I’m not expecting a plus one, though.” She smiles pleasantly, eyes narrowed. “Run along now. This is a single-passenger trip.”

Yuri growls. “Seriously?” She steps forward with intent, and Aguero momentarily tenses, fingers flying to her bag — but just barely, Yuri’s features soften, and she stops. Dramatically, she cocks her head, ponytail bobbing with vigor.

“You,” she points emphatically. “You’re actually going to do this. You’re not worried about the consequences.”

She states it like an accusation, but the palest shade of concern colors her voice. Are you sure of what you’re doing? Leaving this place -- leaving all of us? A complicated expression crosses her features, and she scowls. 

“This won’t just affect you, Aguero.” Firmly, her hand rests on the Black March’s handle. Do you want me to stop you?

“… I’m aware.” A pause, and oh, ugh, Aguero’s doing it again — that nasty, calculating look on her face, the one that reminds onlookers, in no uncertain terms, exactly how the princess had come by her position. Yuri balks uncharacteristically, and steps away. 

It’s not like she doesn’t think she can take Aguero in a fight… but it’s not what she had come here for in the first place. After knowing each other this long, the least she can do is offer her support, not another enemy. Aguero has no problems with making — and gleefully crushing — the latter.

She looks at the woman before her. Khun Aguero Jahad, formerly surnamed Agnis. Not so long ago, a nameless little nobody — somebody’s second, second-choice, second-rate daughter, born in a family with too many offspring to invest attention into a daughter lacking outstanding martial prowess or an especially fetching face. A forgotten girl, wholly incongruent to the imposing figure Yuri knows her as now. 

The air around them vibrates with tension, laced with an inexorable chill -- it’s not a trick of the light, Yuri notices, that her breath seems a little more visible than normal, that the sweat on her forehead feels almost solid to her skin. Aguero is watching her, face bright and predatory, and it’s a stark reminder that even beautiful things can be cold and unforgiving.

The crown jewel of the Khun family sneers, and Yuri braces herself for impact.

— — — 

Khun Aguero Agnis had almost always been a slippery, unremarkable thing, with willow branches for arms and a sullen, snarky mien. On her placid, faintly superior face sat two intelligent, gem-blue eyes — pretty enough, but also afflicted with an attitude chilly enough to wither even the most persistent suitor’s desire. To her family, and an equally hostile Tower, she was both undesirable and unsupported — and consequently, insignificant. 

Yuri had met her before, once. It had been an event much, much longer ago, during a nameless, perfectly ordinary mission to deliver some sealed goods. A loaded favor of sorts, from one family to another. Bright and on the cusp of princesshood, hair still bound in youthful twin tails, she had been greeted at the door of one of the numerous Khun establishments by a slim joke of a girl. 

Thanks for your work, the girl had said, eyes blue and sleepless and unreadable. I’ve been expecting you. With mechanical efficiency, the girl received, inspected, and stowed the package away, vanishing from the gate within seconds. 

Baffled, Yuri withdrew, scratching her head. She’d been given a verification stamp to use at the end, but the package had made it to the correct address regardless. 

I’ve been expecting you, the Khun girl had said. That counted as a mission complete, didn’t it?

If not for the silvery-blue shock of her hair, no one would have guessed the girl a child of one of the great ten families. Favored Khuns, after all, were generally not disposed towards handling petty messenger duties. The observation had barely registered for Yuri, and not much later a more exciting adventure came along to wipe the encounter from her mind. Favored or not, there were more interesting, deadly things in the Tower to focus on.

A couple hundred years ago, though… things had changed, and drastically so. Yuri doesn’t know or exactly care for the inner politics or delicate power balances among the characters of Jahad’s court, but the truth of the matter is this: 

Khun Aguero Jahad might have only been recently crowned — but she has always been a threat. 

Since the dawn of the ten families, the Khun staples of education had remained true to three essential subjects: warfare, politics, and assassination. The children learn young, or not at all. A daughter true to her heritage, Khun Aguero Agnis had bared her fangs only at the most opportune moment, sinking them firmly in the throats of her blood sister, a rival from a nearby branch family, and a number of prominent, up-and-coming girls vying for the princess candidacy. 

It had been, without a doubt — a flawless victory, the perfect display of brains and cruel strength. And of course, with those eyes, a blue as deep and pitiless as the sea: beauty, and the arrogance to wield it.

It had taken the entire upper floors by complete surprise, propelled Aguero’s name to the top of the gossip columns, and whispered unrest among the current princesses in a way that hadn’t been felt in at least half a millennium. All it had taken was a hundred years’ worth of waiting, a lighthouse, a well-placed knife, and some dead girls.

As expected, a mere three months after her candidacy was announced, Khun Aguero Agnis became Khun Aguero Jahad, and not a single voice spoke out to disagree.

— — — 

“Are you going to stop me?” Aguero’s voice is low and cool. Like magic, a small blade glimmers in her hand, and while Yuri can’t predict what kinds of weapons her sister carries on her person, she knows better than to think this is her only, or most lethal one.

“... No,” she admits ruefully. “I don’t think I’d be able to, anyway.” Deftly, she stows the Black March in her inventory, and spins around to sit cross-legged by the princess’s side. It’s always a gamble, relying on Aguero’s temper, but it’s more likely than not that the other girl isn’t actually looking for a fight. She can’t afford the attention a real one would draw, or the physical exhaustion it would inflict.

Aguero lets her, and she grins with satisfaction. “I’ll wait with you until your ride is here!” The and buy you time, if necessary, goes unsaid. Yuri yawns, and then stretches, eyes crinkling with cheeky fondness. It won’t take long for her to get bored. What better way to kill time than with invasive questioning?

“Is he really worth it, Aguero? That boy?” Yuri pouts, eyebrows raised. “This better not just be because he’s cute.” Her words have the subtlety of a berserk Shinheuh, but she’s genuinely curious, and Aguero will understand.

A quiet huff of laughter has her squinting in surprise. Dawn hasn’t quite made it to their corner of the rooftop, but she can make out the faint, yet unmistakable curve of a real smile. 

Huh, thinks Yuri, wide-eyed. It’s not a bad look on her. It’s not that Aguero has never smiled, per se, but the intrinsic softness of it all is a wholly foreign creature to her, and she likes to think Aguero does consider her a friend. Or at least as close to one as a Khun is allowed to call a person.

“Oh, he’s cute all right. Like… a puppy, I guess. Big, gold eyes, really nice voice, listens to everything I say.” Aguero snorts, fiddles with her hair. “… For the most part, at least. There was a girl that he came here chasing after — ” and here she pauses briefly, expression hard like ice chips — “but she’s, ah, not a problem anymore.” 

Yuri blinks. By her feet, frost gleams in elegant, spiraling patterns. For a moment, curiosity steals across her thoughts— what kind of girl could that have been, to catch the eye of Aguero’s sweetheart? To make even the pride of the Khuns lose her famously unshakable cool? And what the hell had even happened? But instinct cautions her otherwise, and it’s yet to lead her astray. 

Yuri shakes her head. Best not to pry into those matters. 

“Okay, then. And what are you going to do after you go?” she presses. “You know you can’t come back.”

At first, there’s no response. The seconds slide uneasily by, thick like a finger swirled through honey. The other girl’s face is thoughtful as she slowly replies: “I’m gonna help him climb the Tower.” 

Aguero shifts slightly, and meets Yuri’s gaze. “To be fair, I wasn’t sure about that either at first. He… he’s really weak, you know.”

Yuri cackles, just to fill the silence. “That bad?”

“That bad.” Aguero exhales. “But he’s a monster, too. He has these… moments, when he gets a certain look in his eyes, and it’s almost terrifying. It’s funny, because he’s the gentlest thing I’ve ever met. But he’s going to be amazing in the future. I know it.” 

“... Like Jahad? Or better?” Is it the boy’s power you’re after? His life? It’s not like Yuri can’t understand. But in the Tower, the asking price of violence and overwhelming force comes laughably cheap, and for something as easy as that Aguero would never be so reckless. The conditions of their status are admittedly stifling, but few things are truly unreachable for a Jahad princess.

Or is it something else?

“They’re nothing alike,” Aguero says flatly. “And I don’t want him to be.”

Frustratedly, she runs a hand through her hair, gesturing vaguely. “It’s hard to explain, but he…he’s good, Yuri. He’s good. All those years stuck in a cave, all the trials the Tower ran him through, all that death and backstabbing and grieving that they make the Regulars practically eat and breathe  —  he fought through it purely by his own merit, and still, nothing's broken him of it. I can’t understand it myself.” 

Aguero murmurs to no one in particular, looking bewildered herself. “… It’s dazzling, honestly.” It only lasts a heartbeat, but there’s a heat to her entire bearing, an unexpected intensity, and it looks a lot like hope.

“He’s going to flip this Tower on its goddamned head, just you wait. He’ll need someone to watch his back when he does.” She smiles again, sharp and secretive — and it leaves Yuri reeling from the whiplash, this girl — who suddenly looks more like sunlight on new snow, like devotion underneath domed ceilings and glass sculptures praising unshakable belief, than the glacial stoicism of her bloodline. “The Regulars are supposed to form teams, right? I intend to be his light-bearer.”

“A-aha…I see it now. You’re crazy,” offers Yuri, more weakly than she would prefer. She thinks she can see the bigger picture now. She isn’t sure whether she likes it or not.

… So it’s his love you’re after. Do you think it’ll make you happy?

“I’ve got it all planned out, of course. I had a quick chat with Headon about starting fresh as well, so the Ranker rules shouldn’t apply to me.” It shouldn’t be possible to make throwing away your life so easy, so fulfilling, but Khun Aguero does it somehow, conviction radiating firmly from her entirety. She laughs, bright and determined. “We’re gonna give the floors so much hell, Yuri.”

“As for being a princess,” she continues, “I have a couple of ideas as to making sure no one looks too closely. That’s a secret, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Aguero shoots her a mild look, and it’s the end of that discussion. She flicks her fingers with impatience. But one last question still burns a hole in Yuri’s chest, the one that hadn’t actually been answered, and she can’t let the other girl leave without a proper response. If she does, there won’t be a second chance.

The first hints of day yawn loomingly across the horizon. Shades of carnation and marigold, thin and pale, send tendrils of light across the sky. In just a few more minutes, the stars will disappear, eclipsed by their vibrance. And Aguero will be gone, gone, another name to be struck from the records. 

After all their years of friendship, this is where the line gets drawn. It’s a little lonely, if she thinks about it. Yuri steels herself. A younger, less jaded girl might have asked Aguero to reconsider. But regardless of whatever answer she would have been given, it’s not the one she needs to know right now.

No regrets now, Aguero.

Princess Yuri Jahad looks the defector in the eye, feeling fully well the pride and colossal pressure of her status. Bending the rules has never, ever seemed so daunting before. Maybe the weight thudding cold in her chest is her grief. Maybe, she thinks sheepishly, it’s her jealousy. She wouldn’t be surprised if it were all of the above, and more than just her own fair share of the bitterness. 

Believe it or not, she has been a princess for a very, very long time. The other girls would want to know the same.

It’s with hushed longing that she opens her mouth again, one last piece of idle gossip. With resentment, for countless eras spent in solitude and misplaced spite; loneliness, for every generation of lost, loveless young women. Every missed opportunity, every broken dream, every petty, contrived falling-out. She’s old enough to remember most of the worst. Aguero is escaping their shiny little showcase of a birdcage, at the price of losing everything else.

Please, she thinks desperately. Let her be right, this time. This is one of their sisters, after all. They must not have another Anaak Jahad.

“...Aguero. He’s worth it?” she repeats. 

Khun Aguero Agnis steeples her fingers against her chin, staring forward. The sun rises ahead of them, unrelenting and pure, and the light catches on her face and draws it all out in ferocious streaks of gold.

“Yes,” she answers. “He is.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) VI -Modern!Shirbert

Words: 2,292

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Six: Kindred Spirits.

Anne to ‘Golden Trio’: I know you were looking forward to our party this weekend but I just got my period and I’m DYING so… rain check?

Cole: Bitch—

Diana: Oh, no! :( I hate when that happens, but it’s okay, we can wait!

Cole: I just want you to appreciate my friendship right now cause I’m on the verge of throwing myself over a cliff but fine, I have no uterus, no opinion. I’ll have to stand these beasts a while longer

Diana: Those are your nieces, nephews and siblings you’re talking about, Cole…

Cole: And I love them but doesn’t mean they don’t suck

Anne: I love you so much Cole, I promise next week it’s on!

Anne dropped her phone on her nightstand, then it buzzed once more, she groaned but picked it up anyway, Josie's name on the screen.

Josie: Ruby’s having a crisis. Waiter guy won’t answer his phone and now she’s on the verge of shaving her head.

Anne: goddamit I just got my period, I’m still on my pj’s!

Josie: We can go to your place? I really don’t want to deal with Ruby on my own...

Anne bit her lip, she had the tendency to lack patience during her periods, but the girls needed her, so she couldn’t say no.

Anne to ‘Golden Trio’: If you guys feel like witnessing some drama Josie’s heading to my place with a "Pink Crisis."

Cole: Fuck, did that waiter broke things off with Ruby already?

Anne: Apparently he’s not answering her texts and Ruby’s about to go crazy.

Cole: I’m in. Anything as long as I can leave the house.

Diana: Sorry, I was talking with Minnie May

Diana: btw I’m in too, let me see if I can take the car and I’ll pick you up @Cole

Cole: Cool, text me when you’re coming.

Anne dropped her phone again, this time on her pillow, and got up to let tell Marilla and Matthew that the girls plus Cole were coming. 

A strange thought came to her as she got up from bed. She felt like there was something missing, something was out of place, or unfinished. Was she supposed to text someone? Had she missed an appointment?

‘A doctor's appointment,’ said a voice at the back of her head.

Anne snorted at the absurdity of that, she knew there was no doctor's appointment scheduled, what the hell was wrong with her? Maybe it was just the hormones...

___________________

Bash was still not over the fact that Gilbert had had a “wet dream” about Moody’s girl and kept teasing whenever he could. It wasn’t Ruby though, Gilbert knew that, somehow.

He was sure that the girl in his dreams had red hair and grey eyes. Or blue, he couldn’t remember well. Either way, as the afternoon went away he started to forget. Sure enough, it’d been nice, he woke up feeling some sort of strange joy for the rest of his shift until it was time to close the diner, then his mind drifted to the dishes he needed to clean and the bills they had to pay.

While Mary was upstairs putting Delly to bed Bash sat next to him on the living room, making sure to mess up the comfortable position Gilbert was in by putting his legs on the boy's lap and laying on the whole lenght of the couch.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the real twenty-year-old in this house and I’m the parent,” Gilbert rolled his eyes, pushing Bash’s legs away.

“That’s cause you’re always grumpy. You know why you always grumpy, Blythe?” Bash smirked.

“I don’t want to know.”

“It’s because you need to get laid.”

“There we go…”

“Why can’t you be a normal young adult and get one of those apps to hook up?”

“Because everytime I try it, all I think about is how I could end up murdered or sick- Do you want me to die of syphilis, Bash? Is that what you want?”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not that desperate for sex, anyway.”

“I don’t wanna know the context of that sentence at all,” Mary walked in holding a basket full of Delly’s clothes. “But since you have all this free time to talk about your sex life, why don’t you help me with the girl’s stuff and fold them while I make myself a cup of tea?”

“Sure,” Gilbert agreed, happy to change the subject.

___________________

“Am I asking too much? Does god hate me?”

The group groaned in exasperation at Ruby’s inquires.

“I think you should finish your tea and breathe,” Diana said patiently.

“What she needs is to get her shit together and understand that it’s the twenty-first century. No man is going to propose to you after a drunk make-out session, Ruby!” Josie rolled her eyes.

“I know that!” Ruby said defensively. “But he’d been so nice even before that... I thought he liked me!”

“Maybe he does,” Anne said. “You have to remember that it’s Christmas, maybe he’s shopping? Maybe his phone got busted? I don’t know, give him the benefit of the doubt!”

“You know what my advice is,” Cole said simply.

“Yes,” Diana and Anne said at the same time.

“I’m gonna say it anyway. Dump the idiot and live your best life. Why are you trying to have a serious relationship when half of the boys in college are desperately trying to get in your pants?”

“Are you trying to get her pregnant or with syphilis? Because that’s how you do it, that's how you get syphilis,” Anne said crossed her arms. “She doesn’t have to sleep around to be happy! She just needs to be logical!”

“Okay, Dr. Heart, what do you recommend?” Josie huffed.

Anne whined and curled up under the covers. Ruby and Josie were sitting at the edge of her bed while Diana and Cole laid casually on the floor, their heads against the pillows Anne had given them so they weren’t completely flat on the ground.

“I don’t know, I’ve never dated a guy for more than a month.”

“Ew, Roy,” Cole said instantly.

“But maybe… I don’t know, do you have his intagram or something?”

“I do,” Ruby sniffed. “I haven’t checked it cause I didn’t want to look desperate and you know how I always accidentally like old pictures…”

“Facebook?”

“No...”

“If you have his instagram, you have his facebook,” Cole said.

“How come?”

“Give me your phone,” His hand lifted from the ground, Ruby gave it to him.

“Okay, so we decided to go full stalker then,” Josie said bluntly.

“It’s either this or…” Anne stopped herself before saying ‘or hearing Ruby mop for another three hours’ but managed to hold her tongue just in time.

“This is for the best,” Diana replied almost as if talking of a medical procedure.

“Can someone go to the bathroom and fetch me the painkillers?” Anne groaned.

“I’ll go, see if I can drown myself in the toilet,” Josie mumbled. “I can’t believe you guys are my best friends…”

Anne laughed at that. Truth be told, Josie and her weren’t exactly close during their youth, Josie even sort of made her life a living hell for a whole year during Junior high, then some random dude tried to take advantage of her during a school dance and Anne stood up for her in front of the whole school. Josie spent the rest of her highschool years making up for her bad actions by defending Anne from any nasty comments anyone would throw her way.

She kept this up even during college, and Anne would’ve gladly told her it wasn’t necessary if it wasn’t because Josie seemed to get more insulted whenever Anne tried to point it out than if she was actually insulting her.

“You know what I’d love to have right now?” Anne yawned.

“A nap?”

“I’d love to have one of those god awful pancakes they used to make in our highschool’s cafeteria. God, they were awful, but for some reason I’m craving those fucking pancakes...”

“You ever crave flowers?” Diana asked absentmindedly.

“What?” Anne laughed. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you walk past a flower shop and you see a gorgeous bouquet, and then some random day you’re like, ‘Man, I wish I had the bouquet, it’d look amazing on my coffee table'”

“I… no– wow, I think it’s the first time you've beat me, Diana. That was the weirdest thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“Oh please, you love flowers, you must have felt that way at some point!”

“No, I swear,” Anne sat up. “I mean, maybe because if I see pretty flowers I just buy them, never been one to say no to buying flowers.”

“That’s the reason why our flat always stinks like gardenia, or roses, or lilies…” Cole adds distractedly.

“You know,” Ruby said, a bit calmer than before. “No boy has ever given me a bouquet.”

“That makes two of us,” Anne patted her knee.

“Three,” said Cole.

___________________

“So, Moody got mugged as soon as he left the bus station yesterday,” Gilbert sighed.

“Oh god, is he alright?” Winnie asked through the phone.

Winifred was back in town for the holidays, and she had many stories to tell about Paris and the girls she’d met there. She was one of Gilbert’s best friends from highschool, if not the only he still had from that time apart from Moody.

They were planning to have lunch the next day, but she’d called him to let him know she was home now, safe and sound, and they were chatting the night away.

“Yeah, a black eye and no phone or wallet, but fine,” Gilbert chuckled. “What’s worse is that he’s not even mad about that, he's upset that he won’t be able to text his girl...”

“What?!” She gasped. “I didn’t know Moody had a girlfriend!”

“He doesn’t,” The boy squinted. “Well, I think they saw each other the other night at the bar and they kissed, but I’m not so sure.”

“Right, because you were utterly shit-faced.”

“Yup.”

He heard her laugh.

“I miss you two so much! Honestly, sometimes I feel like french guys lack sense of humor.”

“Oh, but I bet the girls were quite amusing, considering you oficially dated at least two of them throughout the semester,” He teased.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t having fun,” Winnie replied, he could pictured her smirking. “Looks like the only one who’s got no game is Canada’s Golden Boy! What’s the matter, Gilbert? No girl is worthy of your charms? Are you waiting until marriage?”

“Not quite,” He grinned. “I’ve been busy studying, that’s all.”

“I worry about you, don’t want to see you in ten years all grey and grumpy.”

“That's awfully rude, Bash is not grey and he’s ten years older than us!”

“Yeah but I’ve heard that if you don’t have sex you die faster.”

“That’s the biggest slander I’ve ever heard. Don’t try to scare the future Doctor with fake news!”

“Well, future Doctor, I just want to make sure you don’t end up as the spinster of our group. Not that is bad, if you want to be alone that’s cool, but please don’t be a bitter one, you know, like those old librarians?”

“So what should I be then, the old spinster that invites you to have tea every sunday?”

“Yeah, you could even own a coffee shop- oh wait, you do!”

“Rude,” Gilbert frowned, but he was still smiling. “The Orchard is not a coffee shop, just so you know.“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Winnie chuckled. “See you tomorrow?”

“Totally.”

“Got it!”

___________________

The girls straightened up at Cole’s announcement, all of them excited.

“And?” Diana urged him.

“Good news or bad news?”

“Bad news,” Cole looked up. “He posted this five hours ago…”

He handed the phone to Diana, then she gave it to Anne, there she read the most recent post on his page:

‘Someone stole my phone and wallet, please block the number in the meantime. If you need me you can send a private message here.’

“Could’ve been worse,” Anne gave the phone back to Ruby so she could read what it said.

Ruby sighed heavily.

“He doesn’t hate me.”

“Of course not, you’re a ray of freaking sunshine,” Josie retorted.

“I still think this is god giving you the opportunity to reconsider,” Cole replied. “Don’t commit, Ruby, you’re too young to get married–”

“She won’t get married!” Diana slapped his arm, then hesitated. “Well, at least not anytime soon... right, Ruby?”

“It’s late, children,” Marilla peeked through the door. “You can have dinner here if you want, we have room for all of you, but if you don’t then I suggest you to say your goodbyes now...”

“Thank you Marilla,” Anne smiled. “They’ll be on their way.”

“You can stay the night if you want as well,” Marilla added. “Matthew and I missed the fuss you kids make around the house whenever Anne invites you.”

“That’s so kind, thank you,” Ruby beamed.

Marilla left and Anne turned to look at the group.

“So any of you want to stay?”

“You know I do,” Cole smirked.

“Same,” Josie admitted. “My mom's being a pain right now: ‘Are you dating someone, love?’ ‘Will you ever give me grandchildren?’”

“I’d like to stay too,” Ruby said, deep in thought. “I know he’s not avoiding me, but I really don’t want to sleep alone tonight…”

“You have two younger sisters, Ruby.”

“It’s not the same!”

“See?” Cole said. “Ruby gets it!”

“I’ll have to pass,” Diana sighed. “My dad needs the car tomorrow morning, last minute shopping.”

“We still have next week,” Anne assured her with a small smile.

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​​ @little-boats-on-a-lake

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 41: The Dementor

Regulus had never considered the rocking motion of the train any comfort. In fact it made him sick to his stomach, this bit of transportation was as good as the embodiment of every expectation he'd ever had put on him in his life. Now he was trapped in a compartment with a list of people he'd never have asked for, and the book chose to fall onto his head.

He rubbed the spot and glared up at the luggage compartment where he was unsurprised to see Hedwig snoozing in her cage next to a very battered briefcase with a tag hanging off the edge, but he was distracted from making out the handwriting by the cat carrier still sealed shut. Crookshanks was obviously still inside, he could see his squashed orange face trying to peer down below. Regulus briefly wondered why Scabbers wasn't present up there as well, but perhaps if he'd remained on Ron's person he wouldn't be present?

The pets were the lucky ones, remaining up there while a thick layer of tension sat on all the seats. The Marauders were clearly no happier than the other three to be forced back into such a small space, Evans had made quick work of checking the compartment door to make this otherwise. Nothing came of it, so Regulus was left in the awkward position of sitting across from his brother next to the window with two groups of people on each side. One thought his brother a cold-blooded murder in this future, the others insisting otherwise. He kept waiting for someone to demand he pick a side.

Yet no one had. Sirius hadn't asked him what he really thought of this, nor had his fellow purebloods in Longbottom and Smith turned to him and tried to say their point on the matter to him. This time, he was really left to make a decision. He tried to imagine what his mother would say about this, stand by the purebloods side and defend such accusations, or would Sirius being who he was would not get such a reprieve from their mother. It seemed like an honest toss. Then he remembered his mother didn't always know what's best anyways, she'd been wrong about the Dark Lord and who knew what else. So maybe, for once, he should come to his own conclusion without an outside voice.

He licked his lips with nerves and instead began flipping through to the new slot of empty pages for now. As always words materialized at the new chapter, entitled The Dementor. For a moment he was sure that one lone word would break the heavy silence around him, nobody could disagree those scourges of the Earth could mean anything good to come. Rain continued to lash upon the windows outside, the train rocked violently and kept trucking on no matter the gale force winds making it all so much worse, and the luggage above creaking was still the only accompaniment noise, until, "hope the food trolley still comes around," Pettigrew said into the awkward silence.

Regulus chuckled with agreement to that at least, glancing around to see every one of them making some indication of agreement as he began.

James was grateful Harry didn't get the chance to repeat any of this to his friends while the Weasley family was scrambling to pack for the train. He didn't need any of the vilifying comments against Sirius repeated, least of all the ones concerning Harry. It was all ridiculous to the extreme and he hoped something changed soon other than having to hear of this horrid news.

He'd really been hoping nothing of interest would take place, for once, but Harry didn't even get a chance to hop aboard the train before Arthur Weasley was pulling him aside and laying it all on even worse. Even if some You-Know-Who supporting murderer was after Harry, which wasn't Sirius!, who on Earth was crazy enough to think his son would go looking for him? It somehow even made less sense than putting Sirius' name into the mix, and he wouldn't have thought that possible moments ago.

Remus was already exhausted by the constant glares being shared across the small space. Squashed between Sirius and James, he was getting the majority of them. It's not as if he wasn't used to such looks, their group wasn't exactly popular when they were the reason a whole corridor was ducking for cover. Not to mention Evans seemed to have made it her personal mission to glare at them as many times as was humanly possible and beyond. It felt different now though, that they didn't have a corridor to exit from, a class to get to, something else to occupy their time in between constantly having to put on a face for others.

Time was a wonky mess, and it had been since all this started. He was sagging back in his seat in a dead exhaustion, eyes heavy lidded and ready to take a long and restless sleep from a full moon he hadn't run. He could feel it in his bones though, that it should have happened, and this had been going on for, days? It was impossible to tell.

Regulus' voice was calm enough though as Harry began looking about the train for a place to sit, and he was quite warm. It wouldn't be the first time he'd lolled off to sleep, and Sirius' shoulder just so happened to be rather comfortable... "Professor R. J. Lupin."

Said man snapped out of his seat as if he'd been electrocuted, suddenly wired and quite alive, chest heaving as he looked from Regulus to his friends and back as if waiting for someone to scream, 'gotcha.'

None did. His three friends were looking at him like he was a ghost, the other four had their faces scrunched up in a variety of expressions stating incredulity this news existed.

"Well, there goes our idea the rest of us are dead," Sirius spoke, his voice barely heard in the howling wind.

"I, I don't understand!" He choked out, gazing up at the luggage rack where it still sat, plain as day. Fingers trembling so hard he could barely grasp the handle, surely his shaking hand would make the weather beaten suitcase come apart before he found the latch.

"Obvious ain't it," Evans muttered, her eyes now narrowed even farther with mistrust.

She was ignored, finally Peter took pity on him and reached over to release the contents. Maybe it was some insane coincidence with some other man's initials, but that idea was ruined as Remus couldn't keep his fumbling hold and everything fell to the floor.

There were a few different sets of patched robes that were several sizes too large that covered most of the foot room now, a bar of chocolate that had landed half under Frank's seat, and a few bathroom belongings that could have fairly belonged to anyone.

Then there were the rest of the things peeking out that only the Marauders could have known to associate with their friend. One of those articles of clothing was an old threadbare cardigan all four of them had taken turns wearing so many times, none even knew who the original owner was. Several books were dog eared with messy scribbles in Moony's handwriting all over varying Dark beasts of the world, bits of parchment on a mound of subjects all bound together as if waiting for notes to properly be taken, and on the bottom inside of the suitcase was a crudely hand drawn circle.

All four of their eyes were drawn to it, lost in the memory of choosing something so simple yet personal to them to put on every bit of luggage they owned. A full moon, a letter in each of their chosen names, something with no ending or beginning and was simply meant to last forever.

"Moony," Sirius broke into his frozen mind, but the expression on his face left him clueless what was coming next. "Congratulations on making something of your life, at least one of us did."

That smile was fake, the jesting tone was forced, but Sirius was making an effort not to let the others see the pit twisting him up inside at the idea now being presented before them. That their friend was alive and well, and a teacher of all things, while Merlin knew what was going on with Sirius.

Regulus just snorted and muttered about the odds as he continued, but the Marauders couldn't bring themselves to pay attention to anything else he said. The kids dissolved into talking of Hogsmeade and all sorts of things, even Sirius again, but they were pretty fixated on this new bit of information and had no way to get it out of their system.

What had Remus been doing all this time if not spending every day with the Marauders? What was this future like if Sirius had really been in Azkaban this whole time and Prongs long dead. What about Wormtail, had he just moved on with his life as well? Did the two even keep in contact? The idea seemed ludicrous to question now, but all four of them were suddenly faced with the very real idea none had ever questioned before now, what was really in store for them?

Alice watched with curiosity, and even some worry, as the more that was exposed this year the quieter the Marauders got. It wasn't natural. Not once in the years she'd been in their vicinity had they ever been any such thing even close to this. Even if they weren't laughing obnoxiously, shouting to each other about all their jokes, or whispering in the corridors, these pale wide eyed faces looked alien.

When Regulus mentioned Harry's birthday Sneakoscope going off and the silence persisted in here, she got up curiously and located Harry's trunk above her head. She had to rummage for a few moments before finding a nasty pair of yellow socks the little top was indeed inside of, but even as she held it out for inspection it wasn't going off now.

"Wonder what's got it in a twist round them then?" Frank happily picked apart this new puzzle, hearing nothing but the younger Black reading this whole time was starting to get eerie.

"Maybe Lupin's not really sleeping, he's faking it," Lily pointed out, still with a heavy look at him where he'd slowly sunk back into his seat, now sitting on the very edge though and looking paler than usual, which was really saying something.

"That's Professor Lupin to you now!" Potter tried to correct with his usual boasting and cocky grin, but even as Lily watched something seemed off about it. He seemed stiff, his eyes out of focus instead of trying to catch hers. She found that unnerving, and then with a horrid self reflection, she realized she felt bad for him. James Potter! She really couldn't help it though, no matter how hard she tried to shove the feeling away. The poor teen had learned that he was to die, where his kid would be relocated, and now two of his three friends had some pretty shoddy things going on in their future lives all in a matter of days. It was a lot for anyone to take in.

For a moment Lily thought the deep lurch had come from inside her, but then she nearly fell out of her seat as the train did come to a screeching halt.

Regulus fumbled with the book and only just managed to keep hold of it, words stumbling a bit as he got to the same part. He shivered in trepidation, for what he didn't understand, until he shivered again and realized it wasn't just some feeling. It was true, bone deep cold, the windows were icing over and he could see his breath.

"Wha-what's going on!?" Pettigrew demanded, his voice shrill as he recoiled from the door, wand already drawn.

The others had already done the same, even as the answer was presented. A dementor was aboard, and it had its sights on Harry.

The youngest Black was reading in an outright panic, flying through words to try and get this chapter over with before they were forced to experience anything similar. Sadly even after he got past the part of Lupin in the book banishing the creature, they remained in the black void. Regulus could feel his chest rattling, his mind was buzzing painfully as whispers from his past began cluttering to the forefront and he could barely concentrate on the words in front of him.

He wanted his dad to put a big, warm hand on his shoulder and tell him his plan. He wanted his mum to tell him what there was to do and how to solve this. More than anything he wanted Sirius to wrap an arm around him, like he hadn't done since before before that Gryffindor nonsense began. He wanted his big brother to promise their parents weren't really mad at Regulus and he would handle everything. He couldn't grasp that feeling, that emotion, just kept stumbling along through Harry's bizarre recount of a woman screaming, Malfoy being his usual petty self, and finally as he felt his soul rattling in his chest as if it could sense the monster beyond that door, they were in the castle and McGonagall was looking into the incident.

His eyes flinched without his permission, to the door and back to the words in a panic as he kept waiting for it to happen. Smith was beside him shaking in her seat, a silent scream trying to pass her lips. Sirius was still across from him, his hand clutching his chest and mouthing something unintelligible, the horror on his face unmatched. He checked again, and just beyond the window pane he saw a tall, dark, cloaked figure with grotesque, misshapen looking digits reaching for the handle.

In one last desperate breath, he declared Hagrid and Lupin being made Professors, then Harry finally getting safely into his own dorm, and finally they were out.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

puppy love

Tonks is a disaster and I’d die for her

Sirius Black x Reader

Word count: 1,500(about)

Warnings: slight self-doubt, a singular kiss, cursing 

Summary: Sirius sees something he definitely wasn’t supposed to see, but maybe things will work out for the best anyways.  

Sirius Black was beautiful in every sense of the word. you couldn’t help but stare as he passed, and hang off his every word as he spoke. He was brave and fierce, but also kind and funny. Even after the hell, he had gone through in Askaban he still remained so optimistic, it was no wonder you had fallen for him.

“you’re staring again perv.” Gorge Weasley snickered making you jump. 

“You would think Black would have noticed by now,” Fred joined in coming up behind his brother. you scowled and shoved them back. you considered kicking them out of your house, normally Order meetings were Held in the Black estate, but it was good to change locations frequently and you had offered to host. 

You decided against kicking them to the curb and settled for telling them off instead, even though the Meeting was over, and there was no reason for them to still be here. 

“sod off I’m not staring at anything,” you snapped. the twins shared a look, clearly, they weren’t buying it. 

“we’re just saying (y/n), you could at least drool over a guy who isn’t old enough to be your father.”

“yeah, Black is what. Twice your age?” they teased. you rolled your eyes and tried to fight off the blush forming on your cheeks. you knew Sirius was a tad bit older than you, but it didn’t matter, right? you were both adults. 

no age wasn’t the thing keeping you from Sirius, it was your utter lack of self-confidence. you left the room listening to the boys howl with laughter. you wandered around the mansion aimlessly. Eventually, you found yourself sitting on the back porch, your eyes fixed on the stars above. 

“there you are, I was looking for you,” a soft voice said and Sirius Balck appeared at your side. he looked tired, you wanted to reach out to him to help him somehow. but you couldn’t. 

So you smiled at him lazily instead, “and why is that, Sirius?” you asked softly. 

“Donno I missed you, you’re one of the only people I can talk to,” he sighed. 

“Watch out Black, that almost sounded like flirting,” you teased.  he smiled at you 

“Maybe it was,” he teased right back. It made your heart flutter, but you knew he didn’t mean it, after all, why would he? you knew it was a joke, so you forced a small giggle and let the conversation die there, even though you were the one to bring it up. Still, it was nice, enjoying the cool night breeze with him. 

“Well well well look what we have here, I do hope I’m not interrupting,” Tonks laughed breaking the peaceful silence. you flushed, you were getting a little sick of people teasing you for your feelings.

“Well sorry to ruin date night-”

“Sod off Tonks,”

“But I need to steal (y/n) away for a moment.” two strong hands latched on your shoulders and yanked you away. 

“you two make a cute couple,” Tonks said nudging you with her elbow

“Shut it. you know he wants nothing to do with me,” you muttered 

“I’m telling you the only thing stopping Black from sweeping you off your feet is you letting him.” she protested. 

“Didn’t you need something?” you asked changing the subject. 

“oh right, there is a Lynx in the bathroom and I don’t know what to do about it,” she said with a grin. you sighed. 

“How the hell did a Lynx get in My house?” you demanded and she just shrugged. 

“donno guess the twins thought it would be funny,” she said. of course it was those two. 

“what’s in it for me?” you asked not thrilled at the idea of fighting the angry animal. 

“I’ll help you bag Sirius,” she said in a sing-song voice. you frowned letting her know that wasn’t good enough. “and I’ll buy you a new jumper to replace the one I accidentally shrunk?” she offered. you loved Tonks, she had been one of your closest friends since Hogwarts, but sometimes she drove you insane.  

“fine. I’ll deal with the damned Lynx,” you grumbled. 

The cat was a bastard to deal with. He did not want to be removed from the bathroom and littered your arms with scratches. Around the animal’s neck was a note, “So you can catch a Lynx but can’t ask someone out?”

you tossed the cat out smugly, note and all before turning to the kitchen to dress your wounds. Tonks was waiting there for you, she let out a low whistle when she saw how cut up you were. 

“Damn you look pretty rough,”

“you should see the other guy,” you swallowed a healing potion from your cabinet then chased it with pumpkin juice to wash out the nasty taste out of your mouth. slowly the cuts on your arms and torso closed. 

“Okay, are you ready for my part?” you were about to ask her what she was planning when she shifted into a very handsome man. 

“tada!” she said in a gravelly voice that surprised you. 

“who are you supposed to be?” you giggled poking at Tonks’ new muscles, you never ceased to be amazed by her shapeshifting. 

“Sirius, isn’t it obvious?” she giggled, twirling for you. she looked nothing like the man you had fallen for, but you supposed it was close enough.

“Now go ahead, confess your love to me,” She said once she had completed her turn. you frowned

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” you sighed crossing your arms. 

“Just do it you brat.” she snapped. you took a deep breath and looked deep into her strange, green eyes. 

“I know we haven’t known each other for very long,” you stopped, your mind was completely blank. Tonks seemed to catch on to your hesitation

“Take your time love,” she whispered. 

“But I-” you couldn’t say it. “I’m so happy when I’m around you, you’re funny and intelligent, I’ve never met anyone like you.” Your face was heating up and you couldn’t help but fidget even though it was just Tonks. 

“I want to be with you, I love you,” you admitted, then you glared. “You happy now?” She grinned and shifted back to her original form

“Great now you just have to do the real thing,” she said cheekily. before you could snap at her again, you were interrupted by two shrill laughed. you whipped around and saw the Weasley twins in the entryway of the kitchen.

“you really had us going, Tonks!”

“yeah, we really thought (y/n) was in love with someone other than Sirius,” your heart sunk

“you heard that?” you asked your voice trembling. 

“just the end, But I’m pretty sure Sirius heard more than us,” Fred laughed, which didn’t help the nauseous feeling you were starting to develop. you ran off just wanting to get away from this awful experience. you couldn’t believe that Sirius had heard your practice confession, you would leave if this wasn’t your house. 

you weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and you ended up running straight into the last person you wanted to see right now.

“Sorry Sirius, I didn’t see you there,” you mumbled weakly stepping back. He looked angry and seeing as it was probably your fault, you didn’t want to push him.

“It’s fine,” he grumbled. “who was that bloke in the kitchen? your boyfriend joining the order of the Phynix?” he snapped

“it was Tonks, pretending to be a man.” you explained not meeting his eyes. 

“I don’t think Remus will be too happy to hear about that,” he laughed, clearly still pissed. 

“that's not what I meant you git.” you snapped, starting to get a little ticked off yourself.

“then what happened?” he growled, stepping forward pinning you to the wall of the narrow hallway

“She was helping me practice a confession alright?” you spat, he was close enough that your chests touched when you breathed in. 

“So there is some mystery guy out there just not the one in your kitchen,”

“It’s you, Sirius! I love you Bastard!” you shouted stomping your foot. you were sure the whole house heard you, but you doubted it mattered as the whole house knew already. Sirius looked at you stunned, at least he wasn’t mad anymore. 

“I love you Sirus,” you repeated then tried to push past him but he grabbed your arm. 

“for the record, this bastard loves you too,” he muttered then presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. you heard a sharp intake of breath then laughter. it looked like one of the Weasley twins had caught you, but at that moment you didn’t care.