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pumpkinpaix · 4 years

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Hi! Loving your meta on suibian :)) Just wondering what were your frustrations with cql, especially considered you've watched this in multiple mediums? (I've only watched cql)

Hi anon! thank you so much!

Oh boy, you’ve unlocked a boatload of hidden dialogue, are you ready?? :D (buckle up it’s oof. Extremely Long)

@hunxi-guilai please consider this my official pitch for why I think the novel is worth reading, if only so you can enjoy the audio drama more fully. ;)

a few things before I get into it:

I don’t want to make this a 100% negative post because I really do love CQL so much! So I’m going to make it two parts: the changes that frustrated me the most and the changes I loved the most re: CQL vs novel. (again, don’t really know anything about donghua or manhua sorry!!) Sound good? :D

this will contain spoilers for the entirety of CQL and the novel. just like. All of it.

talking about the value of changes in CQL is difficult because I personally don’t know what changes were made for creative reasons and what changes were made for censorship reasons. I don’t think it’s entirely fair to evaluate the narrative worth of certain changes when I don’t know what their limitations were. It’s not just a matter of “gay content was censored”; China also has certain censorship restrictions on the portrayal of the undead, among other things. I, unfortunately, am not familiar enough with the ins and outs of Chinese censorship to be able to tell anyone with certainty what was and wasn’t changed for what reason. So I guess just, take whatever my opinions are with a grain of salt! I will largely avoid addressing issues related to how explicitly romantic wangxian is, for obvious reasons.

OKAY. In order to impose some kind of control on how much time I spend on this, I’m going to limit myself to four explicated points in each category, best/worst. Please remember that I change my opinions constantly, so these are just like. the top contenders at this specific point in my life. Starting with the worst so we can end on a positive note!

Henceforth, the novel is MDZS, CQL is CQL.

CQL’s worst crimes, according to cyan:

1. Polarizing Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao on the moral spectrum

I’ve heard rumors that this was a censorship issue, but I have never been able to confirm or deny it, so. Again, grain of salt.

The way that CQL reframed Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao’s character arcs drives me up the wall because I think it does a huge disservice to both of them and the overarching themes of the story. Jin Guangyao is shown to be responsible for pretty much all the tragedy post-Sunshot, which absolves Wei Wuxian of all possible wrongdoing and flattens Jin Guangyao into a much less interesting villain.

What I find so interesting about MDZS is how much it emphasizes the role of external forces and situations in determining a person’s fate: that being “good” or “righteous” at heart is simply not enough. You can do everything with all the best intentions and still do harm, still fail, still lose everything. Even “right” choices can have terrible consequences. Everyone starts out innocent. “In this world, everyone starts without grievances, but there is always someone who takes the first blow.”

It matters that Wei Wuxian is the one who loses control and kills Jin Zixuan, that his choices (no matter how impossible and terrible the situation) had consequences because the whole point is that even good people can be forced into corners where they do terrible things. Being good isn’t enough. You can do everything right, make every impossible choice, and fail. You can do the right thing and be punished for it. Maybe you did the right thing, but others suffer for your actions. Is that still the right thing? Is it your fault? Is it? By absolving Wei Wuxian of any conceivable blame, it really changes the narrative conclusion. In MDZS, even the best people can do incomprehensible harm when backed into corners, and the audience is asked to evaluate those actions with nuance. Is a criminal fully culpable for the harm they do when their external circumstances forced them into situations where they felt like they had no good choices left?

Personally, I feel like the novel asks you to forgive Wei Wuxian his wrongs, and, in paralleling him with Jin Guangyao, shows how easily they could have been one another. Both of them are extraordinarily talented sons of commoners; the difference lies in what opportunities they were given as they were growing up and how they choose to react to grievances. Wei Wuxian is adopted early on into the head family of a prominent sect and treated (more or less—not going to get into it) like a son. Jin Guangyao begs, borrows, steals, kills for every scrap of prestige and honor he gets and understands that his position in life is, at all points, extraordinarily unstable. Wei Wuxian doesn’t take his grievances to heart, but Jin Guangyao does.

To be clear, I don’t think the novel places a moral value on holding grudges, if that makes sense. I think MDZS only indicates that acts of vengeance always lead to more bloodshed—that the only escape is to lay down your arms, no matter how bitter the taste. Wei Wuxian was horribly wronged in many ways, and I don’t think I would fault him for wanting revenge or holding onto his anger—but I do think it’s clear that if he did, it would destroy him. It destroys Jin Guangyao, after all.

(It also destroys Xue Yang, and I think the parallel actually also extends to him. Yi City, to me, is a very interesting microcosm of a lot of broader themes in MDZS, and I have a lot of Thoughts on Xue Yang and equivalent justice, etc. etc. but. Thoughts for another time.)

Wei Wuxian is granted a happy ending not because he is Good, but because public opinion has changed, because there’s a new scapegoat, because he is protected by someone in power, because he lets go of the past, and because the children see him for who he is. I really do think that the reason MDZS and CQL have a hopeful ending as opposed to a bleak one hinges on the juniors. We are shown very clearly throughout the story how easily and quickly the tide of public opinion turns. The reason we don’t fear that it’s going to happen to Wei Wuxian again (or any other surviving character we love) is, I think, because the juniors, who don’t lose their childhoods to war, have the capacity to see past their parents’ prejudices and evaluate the actions of the people in front of them without having their opinions clouded by intense trauma and fear. They are forged out of love, not fire.

In CQL however, it emphasizes that Wei Wuxian is Fundamentally Good and did No Wrong Ever, so he deserves his happy ending, while Jin Guangyao is Fundamentally Bad and Responsible For Everything, so he got what was coming to him (even if we feel bad for him maybe). That’s not nearly as interesting or meaningful.  

(One specific change to Jin Guangyao’s timeline of evil that I find particularly vexing, not including the one I will discuss in point 2, is changing when Jin Rusong was conceived. In the novel, Qin Su is supposedly already pregnant by the time they get married, and that matters a WHOLE LOT when evaluating Jin Guangyao’s actions, I think.)

2. Wen POWs used as target obstacles at Baifeng Mountain

I know the first point was “here’s an overarching plot change that I think deeply impacts the narrative themes” and this second one is “I despise this one specific scene detail so much”, but HEAR ME OUT. It’s related to the first point! (tbh, most things are related to the first point)

Personally, I think this one detail character assassinates like. almost everyone in attendance, but most egregiously in no particular order: Jin Guangyao, Jin Zixuan (and by extension, Jiang Yanli), Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen.

First, I think it’s a cheap plot device that’s obviously meant to enhance Jin Guangyao’s ~villainy while emphasizing Wei Wuxian’s growing righteous anger, but it fails so spectacularly, god, I literally hate this detail so much lmao. I’ll go by character.

Jin Guangyao: I get that CQL is invested in him being a ~bad person~ or whatever, but this is such a transparently like, cartoon villain move that lacks subtlety and elegance. Jin Guangyao is very dedicated to being highly diplomatic, appeasing, and non-threatening in his bid for power. He manipulates behind the scenes, does his father’s dirty work, etc. but he always shows a gentle, smiling face. This display tips his hand pretty obviously, and even if it were at the behest of his father, there’s literally no reason for him to be so “ohohoho I’m so evil~” about it—if anything, this would only serve to drive his sympathizers away. It’s a stupid move for him politically, and really undercuts his supposed intelligence and cleverness, in my personal opinion.

Jin Zixuan: yes, he is arrogant and vain and likes to show off! But putting his ego above the safety of innocent people? Like, not necessarily OOC, but it sure makes him much less sympathetic in my eyes. I find it hard to believe that Jiang Yanli would find this laudable or acceptable, but she’s given a few shots where she smiles with some kind of pride and it’s like. No! Do not do my queen dirty like this. She wouldn’t!

Wei Wuxian: where do I start! WHERE DO I START. Wei Wuxian is shown to be “righteously angry” about this, but steps down mutinously when Jiang Cheng motions him back. He looks shocked and outraged at Jin Zixuan for showing off with no concern for the safety of the Wen POWs, only to like, two seconds later, do the exact same thing, but worse! And at the provocation of Jin Zixun, no less! *screams into hands* The tonal shift is bizarre! We’re in this really tense ~moral quandary~, but then he flirts with Lan Wangji for a second (tense music still kinda playing?? it’s awful. I hate it), and then does his trickshot. You know! Putting all these people he’s supposedly so concerned about at risk! To one-up Jin Zixuan! It’s nonsensical. It’s such a conflict of priorities. This is supposed to make him seem honorable and cool, I guess? But it mostly just makes him look like a performative hypocrite. :///

Lan Wangji: I cannot believe that Lan Wangji saw this and did not immediately walk out in protest.

Lan Xichen: this is just one part of a larger problem with Lan Xichen’s arc in CQL vs MDZS, where his character development was an unwitting casualty of both wangxian censorship and CQL’s quest to demonize Jin Guangyao. One of the prevailing criticisms I see of Lan Xichen’s character is that he is a “centrist”, that he “allows bad things to happen through his inaction and desire to avoid conflict”, and that he is “stupid and willfully blind to Jin Guangyao’s faults”, when I don’t think any of this is supported by evidence in the novel whatsoever. Jin Guangyao is a subtle villain! He is a talented manipulator and liar! Even Wei Wuxian says it in the novel!

(forgive my rough translations /o\)

Chapter 49, as Wei Wuxian (through Empathy with Nie Mingjue’s head) listens to Lan Xichen defend Meng Yao immediately following Wen Ruohan’s assassination:

魏无羡心中摇头：“泽芜君这个人还是……太纯善了。”可再一想，他是因为已知金光瑶的种种嫌疑才能如此防备，可在蓝曦臣面前的孟瑶，却是一个忍辱负重，身不由己，孤身犯险的卧底，二人视角不同，感受又如何能相提并论？

Wei Wuxian shook his head to himself: “This Zewu-jun is still…… too pure and kind.” But then he thought again—he could only be so guarded because he already knew of all of Jin Guangyao’s suspicious behavior, but the Meng Yao before Lan Xichen was someone who had had no choice but to suffer in silence for his mission, who placed himself in grave danger, alone, undercover. The two of them had different perspectives, so how could their feelings be compared?

Chapter 63, after Wei Wuxian wakes up in the Cloud Recesses, having been brought there by Lan Wangji:

他不是不能理解蓝曦臣。他从聂明玦的视角看金光瑶，将其奸诈狡猾与野心勃勃尽收眼底，然而，如果金光瑶多年来在蓝曦臣面前一直以伪装相示，没理由要他不去相信自己的结义兄弟，却去相信一个臭名昭著腥风血雨之人。

It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand Lan Xichen. He had seen Jin Guangyao from Nie Mingjue’s perspective, and so had seen all of his treacherous and cunning obsession with ambition. However, if Jin Guangyao had for all these years only shown Lan Xichen a disguise, there was no reason for [Lan Xichen] to believe a famously violent person [Wei Wuxian] over his own sworn brother.

Lan Xichen, throughout the story, is being actively lied to and manipulated by Jin Guangyao. His only “mistake” was being kind and trying to give Meng Yao, someone who came from a place of great disadvantage, the benefit of the doubt instead of immediately dismissing him as worthless due to his birth or his station in life. Lan Xichen sees Meng Yao as someone who was forced to make impossible choices in impossible situations—you know, the way that we, the audience, are led to perceive Wei Wuxian. The only difference is that the story that we’re given about Wei Wuxian is true, while the story that Lan Xichen is given about Meng Yao is… not. But how would have have known?

The instant he is presented with a shred of evidence to the contrary, he revokes Jin Guangyao’s access to the Cloud Recesses, pursues that evidence to the last, and is horrified to discover that his trust was misplaced.

Lan Xichen’s willingness to consider different points of view is integral to Wei Wuxian’s survival and eventual happiness. Without Lan Xichen’s kindness, there is no way that Wei Wuxian would have ever been able to clear his name. Everyone else was calling for his blood, but Lan Wangji took him home, and Lan Xichen not only allowed it, he listened to and helped them. To the characters of the book who are not granted omniscient knowledge of Wei Wuxian’s actions and circumstances, there is literally no difference between Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao. Lan Xichen is being incredibly fair when he asks in chapter 63:

蓝曦臣笑了，道：“忘机，你又是如何判定，一个人究竟可信不可信？”

他看着魏无羡，道：“你相信魏公子，可我，相信金光瑶。大哥的头在他手上，这件事我们都没有亲眼目睹，都是凭着我们自己对另一个人的了解，相信那个人的说辞。

“你认为自己了解魏无羡，所以信任他；而我也认为自己了解金光瑶，所以我也信任他。你相信自己的判断，那么难道我就不能相信自己的判断吗？”

Lan Xichen laughed and said, “Wangji, how can you determine exactly who should and should not be believed?”

He looked at Wei Wuxian and said, “You believe Wei-gongzi, but I believe Jin Guangyao. Neither of us saw with our own eyes whether Da-ge’s head was in his possession. We base our opinions on our own understandings of someone else, our belief in their testimony.

“You think you understand Wei Wuxian, and so you trust him; I also think I understand Jin Guangyao, so I trust him. You trust your own judgment, so can’t I trust my own judgment as well?”

But he hears them out, examines the proof, and acts immediately.

I really do feel like this aspect of Lan Xichen kind of… became collateral damage in CQL. Because Jin Guangyao is so much more publicly malicious, Lan Xichen’s alleged “lack of action” feels much less understandable or acceptable.

It is wild to me that in this scene, Lan Xichen reacts with discomfort to the proceedings, but has nothing to say to Jin Guangyao about it afterwards and also applauds Wei Wuxian’s archery. (I could talk about Nie Mingjue here as well, but I would say Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen have very different perspectives on morality, so this moment isn’t necessarily OOC for NMJ, but I do think is very OOC for LXC.) This scene (among a few others that have Jin Guangyao being more openly “evil”) makes Lan Xichen look like a willfully blind bystander by the end of the story, but having him react with any action would have been inconvenient for the plot. Thus, he behaves exactly as he did in the book, but under very different circumstances. It reads inconsistently with the rest of his character (since a lot of the beats in the novel still happen in the show), and weakens the narrative surrounding his person.

None of these overt displays of cruelty or immorality happen in the book, so it makes perfect sense that he doesn’t do or suspect anything! Jin Guangyao is, as stated, perfectly disguised towards Lan Xichen. You can’t blame him for “failing to act” when someone was purposefully keeping him in the dark and, from his perspective, there was nothing to act upon.

This scene specifically is almost purely lighthearted in the novel! If you take out the Wen POWs, this just becomes a fun scene where Wei Wuxian shows off, flirts with Lan Wangji, gets into a pissing match with Jin Zixuan, and is overall kind of a brat! It’s great! I love this scene! The blindfolded shot is ridiculous and over-the-top and very cute!

I know this is a lot of extrapolation, but the whole scene is soured for me due to you know. *gestures upwards* Which is really a shame because it’s one of my favorite silly scenes in the book! Alas! @ CQL why! ;A;

3. Lan Xichen already being an adult and sect leader at the start of the show

This is rapidly becoming a, “Lan Xichen was Wronged and I Have the Receipts” essay (oh no), but you know what, that’s fine I guess! I never said I was impartial!

CQL makes Lan Xichen seem much older and more experienced than he is in the novel, though we’re not given his specific age. In the novel, he is not sect leader yet when Wei Wuxian and co. arrive at the Cloud Recesses for lectures. His father, Qingheng-jun, is in seclusion, and his uncle is the de facto leader of the sect. Lan Xichen does not become sect leader until his father dies at the burning of the Cloud Recesses. Moreover, my understanding of the text is that he is at most 19 years old when this happens. Wen Ruohan remarks that Lan Xichen is still a junior at the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign in chapter 61. (If someone has a different interpretation of the term 小辈, please correct me.) In any case! Lan Xichen is young.

Lan Xichen ascends to power under horrific circumstances: he is not an adult, his father has just been murdered, his uncle seriously injured, his brother kidnapped, and his home burnt to the ground. He is on the run, alone! Carrying the sacred texts of his family and trying to stay alive so his sect is not completely wiped out on the eve of war! He is terrified, inexperienced, and unprepared!

You know, just like Jiang Cheng, a few months later!

I see a lot of people lambasting Lan Xichen for not stepping up to protect the Wen remnants post-Sunshot, but I’m always flummoxed by the accusations because I don’t see criticisms of Jiang Cheng with remotely the same vitriol, even though their political positions are nearly identical:

they are both extraordinarily young sect leaders who came to power before they expected to through incredible violence done to their families

because of this, they are in very weak political positions: they have very little experience to offer as evidence of their competence and right to respect. if they are considered adults, they have only very recently come of age.

Jin Guangshan, who is rapidly and greedily taking the place of the Wen clan in the vacuum of power, is shown to be more than willing to mow people down to get what he wants—and he has the power to do so.

both Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan were crippled by the Wen clan prior to Sunshot. And they just fought a war that lasted two and a half years. they are hugely weakened and in desperate need of time to rebuild, mourn, etc. both Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen are responsible for the well-being of all of these people who are now relying upon them.

I think it’s very obvious that Jiang Cheng is in an impossible situation because he wears his fears and insecurities on his face and people in power (cough Jin Guangshan) prey upon that, while we, as the audience, have a front row seat for that whole tragedy. We understand his choices, even if they hurt us.

Why shouldn’t Lan Xichen be afforded the same consideration?

I really do think that because he’s presented as someone who’s much more composed and confident in his own abilities than Jiang Cheng is, we tend to forget exactly what pressures he was facing at the same time. We just assume, oh yes, of course Lan Xichen has the power to do something! He’s Lan Xichen! The First Jade! Isn’t he supposed to be Perfectly Good? Why isn’t he doing The Right Thing?

I think this is exacerbated by CQL’s decision to make him an established sect leader at the start of the show with several years of experience under his belt. We don’t know his age, but he is assumed to be an Adult. This gives him more power and stability, and so it seems more unacceptable that he does not make moves to protect the Wen remnants, even if in essence, he and Jiang Cheng’s political positions are still quite similar. He doesn’t really have any more power to save the Wen remnants without placing his whole clan in danger of being wiped out again, but CQL implies that he does, even if it isn’t the intention of the change.

It does make me really sad that this change also drives a further thematic divide between Lan Xichen and the rest of his generation. Almost everyone in that generation came of age through a war, which I think informs the way their tragedies play out, and how those tragedies exist in contrast to the juniors’ behavior and futures. Making Lan Xichen an experienced adult aligns him with the generation prior to him, which, as we’re shown consistently, is the generation whose adherence to absolutism and fear ruined the lives of their children. But Lan Xichen is just as much a victim of this as his peers.

(the exception being maybe Nie Mingjue, but it’s complicated. I think Nie Mingjue occupies a very interesting position in the narrative, but like. That’s. For another time! this is. already so far out of hand. oh my god this is point three out of eight oh nO)

(yet another aside because I can’t help myself: can you believe we were robbed of paralleling scenes of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen’s coronations? the visual drama of that. the poetic cinema. it’s not in the book, but can you IMAGINE. thank u @paledreamsblackmoths for putting this image into my head so that I can suffer forever knowing that I’ll never get it.)

I said I wasn’t going to talk at length about any changes surrounding Wangxian’s explicit romance for obvious reasons, but I will at least lament here that because a large percentage of Lan Xichen’s actions and character beats are directly in relation to Lan Wangji’s love for Wei Wuxian, he loses a lot of both minor and major moments to the censors as well. Many of the instances when he encourages Lan Wangji to talk to Wei Wuxian, when he indulges in their relationship etc. are understandably gone. But the most significant moment that was cut for censorship reasons I think is when he loses his temper with Wei Wuxian at the Guanyin temple and lays into him with all the fury and terror he felt for his brother’s broken heart for the last thirteen years.

Lan Xichen is only shown to express true anger twice in the whole story, both times at the Guanyin temple: first against Wei Wuxian for what he perceives as gross disregard for his little brother’s convictions, and second against Jin Guangyao for his massive betrayal of trust. And you know, murdering his best friend. Among other things.

I’m genuinely so sad that we don’t get to see Lan Xichen tear Wei Wuxian to shreds for what he did to Lan Wangji because I think one of the most important aspects to Lan Xichen’s character is how much he loves, cares for and fears for his little brother. The reveal about Lan Wangji’s punishment in episode 43 is a sad and sober conversation, but it’s not nearly as impactful, especially because Wei Wuxian asks about it of his own volition. I understand that this isn’t CQL’s fault! But. I can still mourn it right? ahahaha. :’)

I’ll stop before I descend further into nothing but Lan Xichen meta because that’s. Dangerous. (I have a lot of Feelings about how there are three characters who are held up as paragons of virtue in MDZS, how they all suffered in spite of their goodness, and how that all ties directly into the whole, “it is not enough to be good, but kindness is never wrong” theme. Anyways, they’re Xiao Xingchen, Jiang Yanli, and Lan Xichen, but NOT NOW. NOT TODAY.)

So yes, I’m a Lan Xichen apologist on main, and yes, I understand my feelings are incredibly personally motivated and influenced by my subjective emotions, but no I do not take concrit on this point, thank you very much.

4. all of the Wen remnants turning themselves in alongside Wen Qing and Wen Ning

Okay, back to plot changes. This change I would be willing to bet money was at least partially due to censorship, but it hurts me so deeply hahaha. It makes literally no sense for any of the characters and it completely janks the timeline of events post Qiongqi Dao 2.0 through Wei Wuxian’s death.

It’s not ALL bad—this change makes it easier for the Peak Wangxian moment at the Bloodbath at Nightless City (You know. Hands. Cliff. etc.) to happen, which I did very much enjoy. It’s pretty on-brand for CQL to sacrifice plot for character beats that they want to emphasize, so like. I get it! This moment is a huge gift! I Understand This. CQL collapses the Bloodbath at Nightless City and the First Siege of the Mass Graves into one event for I think a few reasons. One, Wangxian moment without being explicitly Wangxian, which is excellent. Two, it circumvents the Blood Corpse scene, which I do not think would have made it past censorship.

I’ll get to the Blood Corpse scene in a minute, but despite being able to understand why so much might have been sacrificed for the impact of the cliff scene, I still wish it had been done differently (and I feel like it could have been!), if only for my peace of mind because the plot holes it creates are pretty gaping.

The entire point of Wen Qing and Wen Ning turning themselves in is specifically to save their family members and Wei Wuxian from coming to further harm. That’s explicit, even in the show. Jin Guangshan demands that the Wen brother and sister stand for their crimes and claims that the blood debt will be paid. The Wen remnants understand that Wei Wuxian has given up so much for their sakes, that he has lost his family, his home, his respectability, his health, all in the name of sheltering them. To throw all of that away would be the greatest disrespect to his sacrifices. Wen Qing and Wen Ning decide that if their lives can pay for the safety of their loved ones and ensure that Wei Wuxian’s sacrifices matter, they are willing to go together and give themselves up.

So. Why did they. All go?? For… moral support???? D: Wen Qing says that Wei Wuxian will wake up in three days and that she’s given Fourth Uncle and the others instructions for his care–but then Fourth Uncle and the others all go with them!! To die!! There’s also very clearly a shot of Granny Wen taking A’Yuan with them, which like. Obviously didn’t really happen.

Wen Qing, who loves her family more than anything in the world, agrees that they should all go to Lanling and sacrifice themselves to…. protect Wei Wuxian? Wen Qing, pragmatic queen of my heart, agrees to this absurdly bad exchange?? Leaves Wei Wuxian to wake up, alone, with the knowledge that he had not only killed his brother-in-law but also effectively gotten everyone he had left killed also??

I can’t imagine Wen Qing doing that to Wei Wuxian. Save his life? For what? This takes away everything he has left to live for. You think Wen Qing doesn’t intimately understand how cruel that would be?

(Yes, I’m complaining about all of this, but I’m still about to cry because I rewatched the scene to make sure I didn’t say anything untrue, and g o d it manages to hit hard despite all of that, so who’s the real clown here!!)

Anyways. So that’s all just like. Frustratingly incoherent. It’s one of several wrongs I think CQL committed against Wen Qing’s character, but my feelings about Wen Qing in CQL are pretty complicated (I love her so much, and I love that we got more Wen Qing content, but that content sure is a mixed bag of stuff I really enjoyed and stuff I desperately wish didn’t exist) and I decided I wasn’t going to get into it in this post. (is anyone even still reading god)

This change also muddles Lan Wangji’s choices and punishment in ways that I think diminishes the severity of the situation to the detriment of both his characterization and his family’s characterization. The punishment scene is extremely moving and you should read this post about the language used in it but. sldfjsljslkf.

okay well, several things. In the context of CQL, which really pushes the “righteousness” angle of Wei Wuxian (see point 1), I think this scene makes a lot of sense in isolation: both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are painted as martyrs for doing the right thing. “Who’s right and who’s wrong?” The audience is asked to see the punishment as “unjust”. That’s perfectly fine and coherent in the context of CQL, but I don’t think it’s nearly as interesting as what happens in MDZS.

Because CQL collapses both the First Siege and the Bloodbath into one event, Lan Wangji’s crimes are sort of unclearly defined. In episode 43, when Lan Xichen is explaining the situation, we see a flashback to when Su She says something along the lines of, “We could set aside the fact that you defended Wei Ying at Nightless City, but now you won’t even let us search his den?” (of course, this gives us the really excellent “you are not qualified to talk to me” line which. delicious. extremely vindicating and satisfying. petty king lan wangji.) Lan Xichen goes on to say something like, “Wangji alone caused several disturbances at the Mass Graves. Uncle was greatly angered, and [decreed his punishment]”. (Sorry, I’m too lazy to type out the full lines with translations, just. trust me on this one.)

Lan Wangji’s actions are shown to be motivated by a righteous love. Wei Wuxian is portrayed as someone innocent who stood up for the right thing against popular opinion and was scapegoated and destroyed for it, having done no wrong. (See, point 1 again.)

In MDZS, Lan Wangji’s crimes are very specific. It isn’t just that he caused some “disturbances” (this is just Lan XIchen’s vague phrasing in CQL—we don’t really know what he did). He steals Wei Wuxian away from the Bloodbath at Nightless City, after Wei Wuxian killed thousands of people, and hides him away in a cave, feeding him spiritual energy to save his life. When Lan Wangji’s family comes to find him, demand that he hand over Wei Wuxian (who is, remember, a mass murderer at this point! we can argue about how culpable he is for those actions all day—that’s the whole point, but the people are still dead), Lan Wangji not only refuses, but raises his hands against his family. He seriously injures thirty-three Lan elders to protect Wei Wuxian.

I don’t know how to emphasize how serious that crime is? Culturally, this is like. Unthinkable. To raise your hand against members of your own family, your elders who loved and raised you, in defense of an outsider, a man who, by all accounts, is horrifically evil and just murdered thousands of people, including other members of your own family, is like. That’s a serious betrayal. Oh my god. Lan Wangji, what have you done?

Lan Xichen explains in chapter 99:

我去看他的时候对他说，魏公子已铸成大错，你何苦错上加错了。他却说……他无法断言你所作所为对错如何，但无论对错，他愿意与你一起承担所有后果。

When I went to see him, I said, “Wei-gongzi’s great wrongs are already set in stone, why take the pains to add wrongs upon wrongs?” But he said…… he had no way to ascertain the rights and wrongs of your actions, but regardless of right or wrong, he was willing to bear all the consequences with you.

I think this is very different than what’s going on in CQL, though the differences appear subtle on the surface. In CQL, Lan Wangji demands of his uncle, “Dare I ask Uncle, who is righteous and who is wicked, who is wrong and who is right?” but the very act of asking in this way implies that Lan Wangji has an opinion on the matter (though perhaps not a simple one).

Lan Wangji in MDZS specifically says that he doesn’t know how to evaluate the morality of Wei Wuxian’s actions, but that regardless, he is willing to bear the consequences of his choices and his actions. He understands that his actions while sheltering Wei Wuxian are not clearly morally defensible. He did it anyways because he loved Wei Wuxian, because he thought that Wei Wuxian was worth saving, that there was still something good in him, despite the things he had done under mitigating circumstances. Lan Wangji did not save Wei Wuxian because he thought it was the right thing to do. He saved him because he loved him.

He is given thirty-three lashes with the discipline whip, one for each elder he maimed, and this leaves him bedridden for three years. Is this punishment horrifyingly severe? Yes! But is it unjustly given? I think that’s a much harder question to answer in the context of the story.

Personally, I think that question underscores the broader questions of morality contained within MDZS. I think it’s a much more interesting take on Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji as individuals. This asks, what can be pardoned? The righteous martyr angle is uncomplicated because moral certainty is easy. I think the situation in MDZS is far more uncomfortable if you examine its implications. And personally, I think that’s more meaningful!

(Not even going to touch on the whole, 300 strokes with a giant rod, but he has whip scars? And they were also sentenced to 300 strokes as kids for drinking alcohol…? CQL is not. consistent. on that front. ahaha.)

God, every point so far in this meta is just like “here’s one change that has cascading effects upon the rest of the show” dear god, okay, I’m getting to the Blood Corpse scene.

So in MDZS, the Wen remnants (besides Wen Ning and Wen Qing) do not go to Lanling. After the Bloodbath at Nightless City, Lan Wangji returns Wei Wuxian to the Mass Graves. Wei Wuxian lives with the Wen remnants for another three months before the First Siege, where he dies and the rest of the Wens are killed (except A’Yuan).

(Sidenote that I won’t get into: I love the dead spaces of time that MDZS creates. There’s very clear gaps in the narrative that we just never get the details on, most notably: Wei Wuxian’s three months in the Mass Graves post core transfer, and Wei Wuxian’s three months in the Mass Graves post Jiang Yanli’s death. They’re both extremely terrible times, but the audence is asked to imagine it instead of ever learning what really happened, what it was like. There’s something really cool about that narratively, I think.)

The Wen remnants are not cremated along with the rest of the dead. Their bodies are thrown into the blood pool.

At the Second Siege, when Wei Wuxian draws a Yin Summoning Flag on his clothes to turn himself into bait for the corpses in order to allow everyone else to escape to safety while he and Lan Wangji fight them off, there’s a moment when it gets really, truly dangerous—even with the help of the juniors and a few of the adults, they probably would have been killed. But then a wave of blood-soaked corpses come crawling out of the blood pool of their own accord and tear their attackers apart.

At the end of it, the blood corpses, the Wen remnants, gather before Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian thanks them, they exchange bows, and the blood corpses collapse into dust. Wen Ning scrambles to gather their ashes, but runs out of space in his clothing. Several juniors, seeing this, offer up their bags to him and try to help.

It’s just. This scene is so important to me. Obviously, it couldn’t be included in CQL because of the whole undead thing, but it’s such a shame because I maintain that the Blood Corpse scene is one of the most powerful scenes in the whole goddamn book. It ties together so many things that I care about! It’s the moment when the narrative says, “kindness is not a waste”. Wei Wuxian failed to save them, but that doesn’t mean that his actions were done in vain. What he did matters. The year of life he bought them matters. The time they spent together matters.

This is also the moment when the juniors finally see Wen Ning for who he is—not the terrifying Ghost General, but a gentle man who has just lost his family for a second time. This is the moment when they reach out with kindness to the monster that their parents told them about at night. It matters that the juniors are able to do that! That they see this man suffering and are moved to compassion instead of righteous satisfaction.

(Except Jin Ling, for very understandable reasons, but Jin Ling’s moment comes later.)

It’s also the moment that we’re starkly reminded that many of the adults in attendance were present at the First Siege and directly responsible for the murders of the Wen remnants, including Ouyang Zizhen’s father. We’re reminded that he’s not just a comically annoying man with bad takes—he also participated in the murder of innocent people and then disrespected their corpses. But what retribution should be taken against him and the others? What retribution could be taken that wouldn’t lead to more tragedy?

There’s someone in the crowd in this scene named Fang Mengchen who refuses to be swayed by Wei Wuxian’s actions. “He killed my parents,” he says. “What about them? How can I let that go?”

“What more do you want from me?” Wei Wuxian asks. “I have already died once. You do not have to forgive me, but what more should I do?”

That is the ultimate question, isn’t it? What is the only way out of tragedy? You don’t have to forgive, but you cannot continue to take your retribution. It is not fair, but it’s all you have.

okay. so. those were my four Big Points of Contention with CQL, as I am currently experiencing them.

Honorable mentions go to: Wen Qing’s arc (both excellent and awful in different ways), making 13/16 years of Inquiry canon (I think this is untrue to Lan Wangji’s character, though I can understand why it was done), Mianmian’s departure from the Lanling Jin sect being shortened and having the sexism cut out (there’s something really visceral about the accusations against Mianmian being explicitly about her womanhood that I desperately wish had been retained in the show), cutting the scene where Jin Ling cries in mourning for Jin Guangyao and is scolded for it by Sect Leader Yao (my heart for that scene because it also matters so much)

but now!! onto the fun part, where I talk effusively about how much I love CQL!! this will probably be shorter (*prays*) because a lot of my frustrations with CQL are related to spiraling thematic consequences while the things I love are like. Simpler to pinpoint? If that makes sense? we’ll see.

CQL’s greatest virtues, also according to cyan:

1. this:

[ID: Wei Wuxian, trembling in fear, screaming “shijie!” as Jiang Cheng threatens him with Fairy in episode 34 of The Untamed drama. /end ID]

I understand that this is like, a very minor, specific detail change, but oh my GOD, it is like. Unparalleled. Every time I think about this change, I get so emotional and disappointed that it’s not in the novel, because I think it strengthens this scene tenfold. In the novel, Wei Wuxian calls out for Lan Zhan, which like, I get it. The story at this point is focused on the development of his romantic feelings for Lan Wangji, so the point of the scene is that the first person he thinks of in a moment of extreme fear is Lan Zhan, which surprises him. That’s fine. Like, it’s fine! But I think it doesn’t have nearly the same weight as Wei Wuxian calling for his sister to save him from his brother.

Having Wei Wuxian call out for his sister drives home the loss that the two of them have suffered, and highlights the relationship they all once had. Jiang Yanli is much more relevant to shuangjie’s narrative than Lan Wangji ever was, and this highlights exactly how deeply the fracturing of their familial relationship cuts. Wangxian gets so much time and focus throughout the rest of the novel. I love that this moment in the show is just about the Yunmeng siblings because that relationship is no less important, you know?

Calling out for Jiang Yanli in the show draws a much cleaner line through the dialogue. “You dare bring her up before me?” to “Don’t you remember what you said to Jin Ling?” It unifies the scene and twists the knife. It also gives us more insight into how fiercely Wei Wuxian was once beloved and protected by his siblings. Jiang Cheng promised to chase all the dogs away from Wei Wuxian when they were children. It’s clear that Jiang Yanli did as well.

Once upon a time, Wei Wuxian’s siblings defended him from his fears, and now one of them is dead and the other is using that fear to hurt him where he’s weakest. The reversal is so painfully juxtaposed, and it’s done with just that one flashback of Wei Wuxian as a child leaping into Jiang Yanli’s arms and calling out her name. Extremely good, economical storytelling. The conversation between shuangjie is much more focused on their own stories independent from Lan Wangji, which I very much appreciate. Wangxian, you’re wonderful, but this ain’t about you, and I don’t think it should be.

2. Extended Jiang Yanli content (and by extension, Jin Zixuan and Mianmian content)

Speaking of absolute goddess Jiang Yanli, I really loved what CQL did with her (unlike my more mixed feelings about Wen Qing). Having her in so many more scenes makes her importance to Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian a lot clearer, and we get to experience her as a person rather than an ideal.

On a purely aesthetic level, Jiang Yanli’s styling and character design is so stellar in CQL. The more prevalent design for her is kind of childish in the styling, which I don’t love (I think it’s the donghua influence?). And even I, someone who’s audio drama on main 24/7, personally prefer her CQL voice actor. There’s only a few characters in CQL that I look at and go “ah yes, that’s [character] 100%” and Jiang Yanli is one of them. I was blessed. I would lay down my life for her.

I’m really glad that CQL showed her illness more explicitly and gave her a sword, even if she never uses it! Her weak constitution is only mentioned once in the novel in chapter 69 in like two lines that I blew past initially because I was reading at breakneck speed and was only reminded of when my therapist who I conned into reading mdzs after 8 months of never shutting up oof brought it to my attention like two weeks ago. /o\

We never read about Jiang Yanli carrying a sword in the novel, though we are told that her cultivation is “mediocre”, so we know that she at least does cultivate, even if not very well. Highlighting her poor health in CQL makes her situation more clear, I think, and explains a little more about the way she’s perceived throughout the cultivation world as someone “not worthy of Jin Zixuan”. The novel tells us that Jiang Yanli is not an extraordinary beauty, not very good at cultivation, sort of bland in her expressions, and, very briefly, that she’s in poor health. I really love that description of Jiang Yanli, because it emphasizes that her worth has nothing at all to do with her talents, her health, her cultivation, her physical strength, or her beauty. She is the best person in the whole world, her brothers adore her, and the audience loves and respects her for reasons wholly unrelated to those value judgments. We love her because she is kind, because she is loyal, because she loves so deeply. Tbh, her only imperfection is falling for someone so tragically undeserving of her. (JK, I love you Jin Zixuan, and you do deserve her because you are an excellent boy who grows and changes and learns!! I can’t even be mean to characters as a joke god.)

Anyways, I just think the detail about her health is compelling and informs her character’s position in the world in a very specific way. I’m happy that CQL brought it to the forefront when it was kind of an easily-missed throwaway in the novel. It does mean something to me that Jiang Yanli, despite her poor physical health, is never once seen or treated as a burden by her brothers.

Something partially related that really hit hard was this:

[ID: two gifs. Jiang Yanli peeling lotus pods, looking up uncomfortably as her mother loses her temper about the Wen indoctrination at the table from episode 11 of The Untamed drama. /end ID]

D8 AAAAHHH this was VISCERAL. The novel is quite sparse in a lot of its descriptions and lets the audience fill in the missing details, so Jiang Yanli’s expression and reactions are not described when, after Jiang Cheng quickly volunteers to go to Qishan, Madam Yu accuses her of continuing to “happily peel lotus seeds” in such a dire situation.

“Of course you’ll go,” she snaps to Jiang Cheng. “Or else do you think we should let your sister go?”

This scene triggered me so bad lmfao, so I guess it’s kind of weird that I love it so much, but I felt Seen. Something about the way her nail slips in the second gif as she breaks open the pod is like. Oh, that’s a sense memory! Of me, as a child, witnessing uncomfortable conflict between people I cared about. I know this is an extremely personal bias, but hey, so is this whole meta. Because Jiang Yanli is often silent and quiet, it’s more her behavior and expressions that convey her character. It’s why the moment she lets loose on Jin Zixun is so powerful. We don’t get to see a lot of it in the novel, but because CQL is a visual medium, her character is a lot easier to pin down as a human as opposed to an abstract concept.

Anyways, in this moment, which I also think is a tangential reference to her weak constitution (it doesn’t feel like, “your sister can’t go because she’s a girl”; it feels like, “your sister can’t go because she couldn’t handle it”), we get to see Jiang Yanli’s own reaction to her perceived inadequacy. We see it in other places too—like how upset she is when Jin Zixuan dismisses her in several scenes, but this is the one that hits me the hardest because it’s about how her weakness is going to put her little brother in grave danger.

Last Yunmeng siblings with focus on Jiang Yanli scene that isn’t in the novel that I’m just absolutely wrecked over: the dream sequence in episode 28, when Jiang Yanli dreams about Wei Wuxian sailing away from her, but no matter how she shouts, or how she begs Jiang Cheng to help her, she can’t bring him back home.

I’m not going to gif it because I literally just like, fast-forwarded through it and started sobbing uncontrollably in front of my laptop, dear god.

I don’t know where the CQL writers found the backdoor directly into my brain’s nightmare center, but?? they sure did! IDK, I can see how this might be kind of heavy-handed, but it just. The sensation of being in a dream where something is going terribly wrong, but you’re the only one who seems to see it happening? But there’s nothing you can do? I feel like it’s a very fitting nightmare to give Jiang Yanli, who is acutely aware and constantly reminded of how little power she has in the world: not good enough for the boy she likes, not healthy enough to cultivate well, not strong enough to keep her family together.

The whole, elder siblings trying and failing to protect their younger siblings pattern is A Lot in the story, but there’s something particularly painful about seeing it happen to Jiang Yanli because of that awareness. All the other elder siblings are exceptionally talented or powerful in obvious ways. All Jiang Yanli has is the force of her will and the force of her love, and she knows it isn’t enough.

I care a lot about the Yunmeng siblings, okay! And I think CQL did right by them!

I’m only going to spend two seconds talking about Jin Zixuan and Mianmian, but I DO want to mention them.

Anyways, because we get more Jiang Yanli content, we ALSO get more soft xuanli, which is Very Good. Literally my kingdom for disaster het Jin Zixuan treating my girl right!! CQL said het rights, and I’m not even mad about it! I’m really happy that we get to see a little more of how their relationship plays out, and how hard Jin Zixuan works to change his behavior and apologize to her for his mistakes. The novel is from Wei Wuxian’s POV, so we miss the details, alas. Jin Zixuan covered in mud, planting lotuses? Blessed.

I think part of making Mianmian a larger speaking role is for convenience’s sake, but oh boy do I love that choice. Especially the Jin Zixuan & Mianmian relationship. Like, they’re so clearly platonic, and Mianmian is never once portrayed as a threat to Jiang Yanli. They just care about and respect each other a lot? Jin Zixuan’s distress when she defects from the Jin sect gets me in the heart, because it’s just like. God. I think there’s a lot of interesting potential there for her own thoughts re: Wei Wuxian. After all, she leaves her sect in defense of him, but he later kills a friend that she respects and loves. The moments shared between her and Jin Zixuan are minor, but they hint at a deeper relationship that I’m really glad was in the show.

3. To curb the strong, defend the weak: lantern scene (gusu) + rain scene (qiongqi dao 1.0)

I think I basically already explained why I love this so much in this post (just consider that post and this point to be the same haha), but just. Okay. A short addendum.

As much as I love novel wangxian, I really think that including this scene early on emphasizes why Lan Wangji loves Wei Wuxian so deeply. Of course he thinks Wei Wuxian is attractive, but this is the moment when he realizes, oh, this is who I love. Having that moment to reflect upon throughout Wei Wuxian’s descent is so excellent. I have enumerated all of my issues with the “perfectly righteous Wei Wuxian” arc that CQL crafted, but having this narrative throughline in conjunction with the novel arc would be like. My favored supercanon ahaha. (It would need some tweaking, but I think it would work.) It shows us exactly who it is that Lan Wangji sees and is trying to save, who he thinks is still there, underneath all the carnage and despair and violence and grief. This is the Wei Wuxian Lan Wangji loves and is unwilling to let go. This is the Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji would kill for, that Lan Wangji would stand beside, that Lan Wangji would live for.

4. Meeting Songxiao

As much as I love the unnameable ache of Wei Wuxian never meeting Xiao Xingchen and learning only about his story through secondhand sources in the novel (and the really cool parallel to that where Xiao Xingchen tells A’Qing the story of Baoshan-sanren’s ill-fated disciples: both Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian learn of each other only through the eyes of others, and that is Very Neat), I think the reversal that this meeting in episode 10 sets up wins out just slightly.

I said once in the tags on one of my posts that “songxiao is the tragic parallel of wangxian” and like. Yeah. Basically! If we take songxiao as romantic, the arc of their relationship happens inversely to wangxian, and that parallel is so much clearer and stronger when we have wangxian meeting songxiao in their youth.

The scene of their meeting really does have that Mood™ of uncertain youth seeing happy and secure adults living out the dreams that they’re afraid to name. Wei Wuxian’s eager little, “oh! just like me and Lan Zhan!! Right, Lan Zhan??” when songxiao talk about cultivating together through shared ideals and not blood is. Well, it’s Something.

When they meet again at Yi City, there’s a greater heaviness to it. So this is what happened to the people you once dreamed of becoming! Wangxian have already come to a point where they have an unspoken understanding of their relationship, but Songxiao have lost everything they once had. When Song Lan looks at wangxian, it’s like looking at a mirror of his past, and everyone in attendance knows it.

To me, that unspoken parallel is really emotionally and thematically valuable. All that good, and here is the tragedy that came of it.

okay, look! I managed to keep it shorter!! here are my honorable mentions: that scene where Jin Guangyao tries to hold Jin Ling and Jin Guangshan refuses to let him (it’s hating Jin Guangshan hours all day every day in this household), the grass butterfly leitmotif for Sizhui (im literally crying right now about it shut up), the Jiang Cheng/Wen Qing sideplot (look I know it’s wild that I actually liked that given that I headcanon JC as aspec, but I actually really like how it played out, specifically because Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian are NOT romantic—it sets up an unexpected and interesting comparison)

um. Anyways. I uh. really care about this story. And have a lot of thoughts, which I’m sure will continue to evolve. Maybe in 8 months I’ll return to this and go well, literally none of this applies anymore, but who knows! It’s how I feel right now. I cried literally three times while writing this because MDZS/CQL reached into my chest and yanked my heart right out of my body, but I had fun! *finger guns*

and like, I know I had a LOT to say about what frustrated me about CQL, but I really really hope it’s clear that I adore the show despite all of that. I talk a lot because I care a lot, and my brain only has one setting.

anon, this was like 1000% more than you bargained for, I’m SURE, (and I’m still exercising some restraint, if you can. believe that.) but I hope that you or someone out there got something out of it! if you made it all the way to the end of this meta, wow!! consider me surprised and grateful!!

time to crawl back into my hovel so I can write Lan Xichen fic and cry

(ko-fi? ;A;)

#the untamed #the untamed meta #mdzs #mdzs meme #mo dao zu shi #mine #mymeta #asks and replies #Anonymous #HOOOOOO BOY GUYS #we are just shy of 10k on this #*buries face in hands*#cyan writes #cyan gets too deep in the weeds #i will be shocked if more than like ten people read this #by the end it was just like well i guess this is just for me now lmfao #anyways. i will now. leave the internet for a while. thanks

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amberwild420 · 3 years

Text

one step back, two steps forward (pt. 1)

Masterlist

Paris, the city of love

Since the return of Lila the liar, Marinette has been feeling the downhill ride of the life at its fullest. Sure she threatened her to take away her friends and to make her life as miserable as possible but Marinette knew that there is no way that her friends who had known her longer can believe such ridiculous lies.

Well…….that’s what she thought.

She overestimated her friends or rather her ex-friends.

They not only left her behind, but she also become a bully, thief, a cheater and an overall bad person.

Like what?

Now not only is she alone sitting in the last but she has to be bullied and humiliated because apparently she is bullying and making fun of the sweet innocent Lila.

Like what?

And Adrien. Oh sweet naïve Adrian just let her keep quiet. He said he had her back but when she realized how coward and spineless he was, her crush on him was gone like wind. And to add insult to injury, she may or may not have accidently found out that he was also chat noir.

Like what?

And not to forget miss bustier. Oh sweet miss bustier, she seriously need to take lessons on how to deal with bullies or she should choose a better profession. Because if she preached about setting a good example one more time she will do something that future Marinette would regret.

And Alya her supposed best friend just left her as soon as her blog rating went up because of a certain liar. Well and that she has always been brash but became quite temperamental after Lila trapped her in her web of lies. She tried, he really tried but she had no chance. Nino and Kim who knew her from childhood took the word from a liar. And max. Oh the smart max who made an AI with emotions had believed that a napkin can gouge his eyes out even when he was wearing glasses.

Like what?!

Thankfully she didn’t had to deal with Chloe these days. Well she was rather quieter these days. Not talking or taunting to anyone. Well a good thing that came from all this. She didn’t think she could actually bear two ways trouble right now.

She had to deal with the akuma at 4 am and chat was nowhere as always. But she was thankful that he didn’t came. It was not like he was being helpful anyway.

Miss bustier was late and Lila was spinning another tale of her adventure. She wanted to tune out the chatter but the door opened and miss bustier walked in with a girl. She was wearing a pink crop top with blue jeans and white sneakers.

Pale skin, long black hair that framed her face and yellow green eyes that looked at them with such an intensity that Marinette felt her hand twitching towards her sketchpad. She had so many ideas all of the sudden, she need to jolt it down.

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

Class meet Kaylan. She will be joining us for the rest of the year. Make her feel welcomed.

Irritating and incompetent.

The only words that echoed her mind when she met her teacher. Caline Bustier has no control over class. Like how the hell she can tame students with this idealistic temperament. Kayla knew she was right when she entered the class. When her teacher turned to her expectedly, she decided to be polite and introduced herself.

My name is Kaylan fox. I moved from New York City recently. It’s nice to meet you.

It was just then a girl with sausage hair talking loudly.

Oh New York! It reminds me when I met Tylor swift last summer. She even gave me her new album with her autograph because she felt I deserve it when I accidently gave her the idea for her song.

Is she serious? That is just an outrageous claim. There’s no way anyone would believe that.

That’s so cool Lila.

Yeah! You have to give me all the deeds.

I wish I could meet her one time.

The hell? They actually believed that?!

Are you kidding? You’re actually believing that?

She couldn’t help but speak up. There is no way like no way anyone even the most stupid person could believe that.

The girl with sausage then suddenly burst into tears.

Why do you say that? Are you that jealous?

Excuse moi?

The effect was immediate. The class apart from the girl in the pig tails started consoling the girl.

How could you be so mean?

You made Lila cry.

You’re so horrible like that Mari trash.

Kaylan felt her eye twitching. Like what is actually going on? Did she cross the time space and came to a new universe that had people stupider than her expected level?

She looked at the teacher but was even more surprised when she was giving a look to the girl in the pigtails that said “stop them”.

So incompetent. So fucking incompetent!

The class glared at the new girl who dare to talk but shivered at her bone chilling return glare. Like hell she would let some brats push her around. She trained, tired herself to bones to be stronger than that scum, there is no way she can let some skinny kids take her down.

I actually don’t care about what people are talking about but I do care when they name drop the celebrities.

The silence broke when a dark skinned girl with glasses stood up showing her fiery temper.

How can you be so sure? Where is your proof?

Raising her eyebrow, Kaylan pulled her phone from the pocket and typed. Then she started reading out loud.

(it’s a fake news, I just winged it myself so no need to correct it. it’s fanfiction.)

Tylor Swift seen in Hawaii this summer. Many fans have been theorizing she may be here for her new album. But the claims haven’t stand corrected still since then haven’t seen anyone from our usual cast. It seems like that Tylor is on a vacation. Sorry fans.’

And this is the news article from the last year summer. You were saying.

She deadpanned at the girls who looked lost.

The sausage haired girl looked livid. With a cold smirk she leaned into the sausage haired girl.

Hon. You’re so fake that even china would deny they ever made you. But to have some people follow you, I’ll give that much of a credit.

Saying so she made her way to the last where the girl with pig tails was sitting. On the bench beside was a blond who looked at her from the corner of the eye but looked forward when miss bustier started her lesson, a bit flustered.

Hi! I’m Marinette. Class representative.

Kaylan.

I must say that was nice. You know, to see that someone can actually look through her lies.

You know she was lying and didn’t tell them?

Before she could stop, words pour out of her mouth. Marinette winced, so did she.

Sorry, that came out rude.

No it’s not a problem. They just don’t believe me at all.

I can see why.

Before they could talk anymore, miss Bustier interrupted them.

Kaylan, please focus in the class.

I do have my focus in the class. But it seems like you don’t, considering that the sausage hair and miss tabloid is still talking rather loudly and you just pointed me out instead.

A certain glint passed her eyes before a smirk made her way to her lips. The expression on her face made several people shiver.

We don’t want some extra nasty rumor spreading in the school about what happens in the class. Now do we.

The way Kaylan said that made many people shiver.

Marinette sighed in relief. she suddenly felt like having a safety amulet.

Marinette felt badly for thinking like this but from the time her friends had left her she felt unsafe all the time. So this was a good feeling.

maybe she should treat her with best pastries. she really had a good feeling about today.

Its definitely a good day.

#miraculous #daminette #maribat #Marinette needs a hug #ml salt #class salt #character development #original character #daminette got me hooked #let me write #i feel motivated

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krreader · 3 years

Text

ensorcell | chapter 8.

pairing: prince!taehyung x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; prince!taehyung ; arranged marriage ; language ; sex genre: fluff ; angst ; smut word count: 2.7k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7

summary: it was funny, how meeting one single person could change your life forever. you were ordinary, he was not. he was rich, you were not. he fell in love with you and so did you. even though he was never supposed to.

a/n: i’m so sad I never get to update my originals as much as I want to, but I’m really happy when I do. especially with this one BECAUSE IT’S FINALLY SEXY TIME

It was on days like these that you were harshly reminded of not really belonging here.

It was on days like these that you realized that the girl struggling in college to get her degree and having frequent anxiety attacks due to the uncertainty of the future was the real you that you had left behind to play pretend. Because unlike some others, you were not cut out to play this game of royal intrigues that some seemed to excel in.

“You're mad.. aren't you?” the familiar voice would have made you turn around and smile a few hours ago, but now you kept your eyes firmly on the horizon and watched the sun set in the royal gardens while royal guards and maids were all around you, making sure that you were well taken care of.

Why, you might ask? Well, because they all thought you were carrying a royal heir, thanks to the man that now sat down next to you. When in reality, the only thing you were carrying was the weight of the lies that kept piling up.

“I'm not mad. I know why you did it,” when Taehyung let out a relieved sigh, you quickly added, “Doesn't mean I like what you did, though.”

“I had to say something. I've gotten so many inquiries about whether the rumors about Dae and me were true today, I knew the only way to make it stop was to say you were pregnant. A royal heir is the most precious thing a kingdom could have. You being pregnant will put an indefinite end to any possible other 'proposals' that my father could make.”

“But I'm not, Taehyung. I'm not pregnant. And I don't intend to get pregnant. Because in case you forgot, we've only been dating for a few weeks. Marrying is a big step after such a short amount of time, but having a baby?”

“I know,” he put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, brushing them over his tired eyes in desperation, “I thought it was the best solution at the time. I should have discussed it with you first, I'm sorry.”

It was a mess. A mess that would be hard to get out of, but at the same time, you really couldn't bring yourself to be angry with him. His father would have married him off to someone that he hated. He did it to ensure that the two of you could stay with each other. In some way, it showed you that he did it because, like his sister said, you meant a lot to him. And from the way he was acting now, a child hadn't been something that he had considered so early on either.

So at least you were on the same page in that sense.

Now, you'd have to figure out how to fix this and get out of this without birthing a baby in nine months. It’s not like you already had enough shit on your plate already.

“Give me a second,” you said when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, letting out a heavy sigh when you saw the name on the display. You already knew you were in deep shit when you answered, “Let me explain..-”

“No, you let me talk now and you just listen,” your mother started angrily, “You run off with some foreign prince that I've never met in my life without so much as a word to get married to him, because there is no other way to stay together, despite you and him only knowing each other for a few hours. Then you get knocked up by said prince before even getting married to him and are now pregnant without even having finished college yet and having absolutely zero fucking stability in your life while being in a country that is not home. Did I get all the details right?”

You clenched your jaw as you looked at the terrified 'foreign prince' that your mother seemed to like so much. Taehyung maybe should have asked more about your family, now that he was hearing her scream like this.

“I'm not pregnant, mom,” you lowered your voice, “It's.. extremely complicated and I promise I will explain it all eventually, but I am not pregnant, okay?”

“You know what? I've had enough. I'm taking the next flight out and I am taking you home with me.”

That alarmed Taehyung so much that he sat up straight, but you just put your hand on his leg to stop him from worrying, “I'm not five anymore, mom, you can't just come and get me. I'm an adult who can make her own decisions and I've made this one. I am getting married, with or without your approval.”

You knew that she was worried. That her saying that wasn't said out of any ill-will, but she was worried sick for you being here, so far away from home where she couldn't be with you.

And she instantly showed that side of herself when her voice broke a little, “Just come home, sweetheart. We can figure all of this out when you're back here. And maybe your boyfriend could come here too? Why can't he just..-”

If only it were so easy.

“Mom,” you got up and started walking, wanting a moment alone with your mother, “I miss you as much as you miss me, so I'm going to suggest that maybe, if you can, come here and spend a few days here. I actually would really like you to be here for the wedding. I want you to meet Taehyung and see what a great guy he is and his mother and sister, who take such good care of me. I want you to meet them.”

“It's not them I'm worried about. It's everything else. You don't understand how big of a thing this is, the media coverage on all of this is insane. Everyone is suddenly talking so much about you and I'm so afraid of what it's turning you into. I just don't want anything to happen to you, so leaving now..-”

“..- is not an option, I'm sorry, mom,” you said firmly, but at the same time, with a soft undertone, “Call (Y/B/F). She'll be here soon, maybe you can take the same flight as her. I'll prove to you that I'm doing okay and that you won't have to worry about me. I've got this.”

Fake it till you make it, right?

“How could you be so stupid?!” the king was pacing up and down the room, the queen and Taehyung's brother and sister all sitting across from you and him on a couch opposite, “I told you, the worst thing that you could do is get her pregnant and you do exactly that. This is an outrage!”

“Have you even listened to the news? Read an article? Because everything I've seen so far is well-wishes and happiness,” Taehyung leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, “We live in the 21st Century, father. Having a child before marriage isn't as big of a deal anymore as when you were younger.”

He was challenging him, so much that his mother had to gently shake her head to tell him to stop.

The king was already furious enough. Taehyung shouldn't add more fuel to the fire.

You had thought that Taehyung might have told his father the truth about the situation, but that would make little sense. What he did was to stop him from trying to ruin yours and his relationship. If he caught wind of this pregnancy being fake, it would be back to him trying to marry Taehyung off to princess Dae. His mother seemed to be unaware of the situation as well. Only his sister knew, why she did, though, you didn't know. Maybe Taehyung had confided in her beforehand.

“I thought I had raised you well, you know?” gone was the mad king, now all that you could see on his face was disappointment, “But ever since you met her..-” and as soon as your eyes met his, it was back to anger, “..you ruined everything.”

Taehyung let out a snort and got up, “If that's everything you have to say, then we shall take our leave. My fiancé has to rest,” he emphasized the word fiancé, which only seemed to make his father angrier.

But before this could escalate any further, he pulled you up by your hand and out of the room, walking with you to your bedroom.

And as soon as the doors behind you two were closed, his shoulders slumped and you could see just how tired he actually was.

You weren't the only one that was drained by all of this, he just hid it better than you.

Taehyung moved to the bed, then sat down on the foot of it and closed his eyes for a moment.

You watched him, but couldn't do so for long. Your need to reach out and support him was too great. And so you followed him and knelt down before him, gently cupping his face in your hands so that he looked at you.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered, “I made it worse.”

“Why did you do it? I mean.. really, why did you take such a drastic step?”

He looked into your eyes for a long while, then he put his hands over yours to hold them, his eyes becoming sadder by the second, “I was scared to lose you. The only one that I ever had feelings for and that I wanted to spend my future with. That was selfish, wasn't it?”

The corner of your mouth curled into a smile, “I wouldn't be here anymore if I didn't feel the same way about you.”

And the longer this eye contact lasted, the harder your heart beat against your chest. So much, that it felt like it was about to jump out. The urge to kiss him, to hold him and just... be with him, was so overwhelming that you couldn't hold back anymore.

And for the first time since you came here, it felt like you shut off your brain and just listened to your heart. You leaned up and kissed him, carefully at first because you were afraid of taking it too far, but Taehyung was as desperate for this as you were.

This wasn't even about sexual needs, this was about feeling the other person so close to you, to feel a union that would bring you closer together and would help you feel a little better in a shitty situation like this.

He wanted that too... so he deepened the kiss.

You sighed against his lips and slowly got up, only so you could straddle him a moment later.

His hands traveled from yours to your waist, holding you so tightly that you felt like his hands were leaving marks on your skin.

Keep in mind that you haven't had a proper moment like this since that first kiss that you shared back home. All those emotions, those feelings... you both just bottled them up because you had no other choice. But now, the bottle was overflowing. And there was no going back anymore.

Taehyung fell back into the mattress, you with him, without ever breaking the kiss once.

The only moment you both did, was for you and him to take off your shirts, then it was back to exploring the others mouth.

Fingertips running over your back, a trail of goosebumps forming where they touched and once he unclasped your bra, your entire upper body was covered in them.

One of his hands came up to your neck to hold it firmly, his thumb brushing against your jaw, stopping to kiss you for a moment, but leaning his forehead against yours and breathing heavily.

You thought he might say something, but he couldn't. It was all too much in that moment. Too many feelings and emotions. All he could do was quickly turn you around so that you were lying on your back and he on top of you.

His lips found their way to your neck, beginning to kiss every single spot on it.

Your hands were running through his beautiful and soft hair, letting out quiet moans every time he found a spot that made you shiver.

It was clear that he wanted to make you feel good. As if he wanted to make up for something, which he really didn't have to. But as his lips wrapped around your nipples, you couldn't bring yourself to say no. Not when his tongue felt so good and felt even better when it was finally between your exposed legs.

You had only been able to imagine what kind of lover he was before, but you were glad to see that – despite not knowing his sexual history – he seemed to know what he was doing. His tongue was caressing your clit, kissing it and biting down on it every now and again. Every time your moans became louder, he slowed down, just so you could fully enjoy this and he could draw this out for as long as possible.

He didn't say a word, just enjoyed making you feel beautiful, loved and outright good.

Soft kisses, hard kisses, sucking on it.. he drove you mad relatively quickly.

“I think..- I think I'm..-” you couldn't finish this sentence, Taehyung had already felt your grip tighten in his hair. He licked on your clit like he had before and to top it all of, sucked on it a little harder than he had earlier. And that was all it took to bring you over the edge and to have you moan out his name. Loud.

Your body became limp afterwards, breathing heavily as he kissed his way back up.

A grin had spread on his face, kissing your cheek when he whispered, “I should thank whoever built this castle for making the walls thick.”

You let out a chuckle and spread your legs a little wider, grinning when he looked down, “You're not done, though, right?”

“Right..-” he dipped his head to kiss you once, twice, then he leaned down to your ear, his hardened length now resting against your throbbing clit, “Are you sure?”

Butterflies erupted in your belly when he said that. This caring and wonderful man, still worried if you maybe didn't want to continue after all this... it might have been stupid to think that way, but in that moment, you thought to yourself: ‘It's all worth it...’

“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I want you. All of you.”

“You have me,” he whispered back, slipping inside you so easily because of how wet you were, “All of me.”

You had seen his dick earlier and had seen that it was long, but now that he was actually inside you, rock-hard at that, you could really feel just how long.

The moment he was completely buried in you, you let out a breath that you had unconsciously been holding and waited for him to continue.

But it took him a while.

He just waited, held you in his arms and kissed your cheek every now and again.

“Hey.. are you okay?” you asked eventually, putting your hand on his cheek to make him look at you.

And when he did, you were surprised to see tears in his eyes. Worry filled your face, but he quickly laughed, “Shit, I'm sorry. I'm just... I just really needed this.”

“My vagina?” you said, mainly to lighten the mood. And it did.

Taehyung let out a laugh and kissed your forehead, “No.. happiness. A moment of peace. With the woman that I'll marry.”

Your smile softened, your thumb brushing over his cheek, “Well then.. why don't you show your wife-to-be what she can expect from her future husband?”

“Many,” he pulled out a little, “many,” then pushed back in, a little harder than the first time to make you moan, “Orgasms.”

Now, that was music to your ears.

And the moans that escaped his throat afterwards as he continued pushing himself inside you again and again were an even sweeter melody. Every time he moaned your name and told you how good you felt, your heart felt like it was exploding.

This is what you had both needed.

Because now, there was no uncertainty anymore.

This was right. This felt right. You and him together.

And whatever obstacle would come your way, you would face it.

Together.

#bts imagine #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #v x reader #kim taehyung imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #kim taehyung #taehyung #v #reader #mine

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comradedream · 2 years

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I don’t like the sense of entitlement people have towards creators like Dream who’ve since the beginning HAS interacted with his community. It all the more makes me even more pissed off how people only know how to spark outrage against him in order to force a response out of him that’ll come out “fake” to them. And it makes me all the more enraged how entitled people believe they owe more explanation to his private life (ie sexuality, family, friends).

It really just comes to parasocial factors (I know), and psychoanalyzing the person that only shows a few facets of himself to spark rumors and fake outrage. I’ve seen so much obsessive shit especially against him that dehumanizes him greatly. And the entitlement, I stress this part the most of having no problem to throw any type of buzzword at him to tear him down. Like I didn’t mean to stumble on One Of Those Twitter/Tumblr accounts and the sense of superiority they believe they have over him is astoundingly pathetic and encompasses such a black/white mindset that it makes me laugh instead of get mad at the whole misinterpreting of everything Dream has done to “fix” his mistakes. It’s like looking at lsf but worse and I want to vent so bad on it because if ever the time comes that Dream does willingly on his own accord to delve into his personal life without being put on the spot by invasive people again, I need people especially on Twitter not to blindly believe the rhetoric they think is right. Like I know I’m begging for common sense and basic human decency but it’s the internet yk people will attack with no information and spew lies like wildfire. It seriously blindsided me how dumb the shit I read and how many people believe it.

😵‍💫 yaaaa i agree 100% this fandom and honestly so many ppl in general in regards to dream have so much entitlement to what they think they deserve to know or hear or see. its rly rly gross and dehumanizing. its so weird when they think theyre a fan too like ?? like the fact that that behavior overlaps so much between people who despise him and ppl who think theyre fans LOL. idek y those ppl stick around tbh like they hate his fandom and they hate him 😭 im just glad dream still sticks w what he believes in tho and doesnt cave at stupid shit like that, a lot of the time it seems very overpowering and overwhelming. it rly sucks how much misinfo and hate ppl are willing to spread and believe about someone just to have that little moment of pseudo moral superiority 😵‍💫

#asks #from last night also sry #long post #discourse #negative

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spidersmiceandeverythingnice · 4 years

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All Emiya-san AU's are good AU's (its where my Actor Fionn lives too lol) and man there's a lot of untapped comedy gold of Shirou hearing all these stories about Diarmuid scaring away rude customers and thinking he looks super scarred up or w/e and then he meets him and it's like "??? he looks so nice?? are u sure this is the guy who nearly stabbed someones eye out???"

EHEHEHE I wrote a thing beneath the read more I looooove the Emiya Gohan AUS so much...

Everything about this situation was concerning for Shirou. It was bad enough that Archer was using Shirou’s name (the number of times he’d gotten, “Is that guy a relative of yours, Emiya-kun?” from ignorant but well-meaning classmates was starting to grate on his nerves) at his dumb part-time job (why Servants even needed part-time jobs was a mystery) and the fact that Lancer kept popping up to invite Taiga out for dinner and drinking but now, apparently, a third Servant had arrived.

The cafe’s regulars, of course, had no idea he was a Servant. Sakura and Rider had confirmed it after visiting the cafe on one of their dates, but didn’t seem to be worried. Of course, they weren’t worried. Sakura and Rider had enough power and magical energy between them to flatten the city, let alone deal with Servants. Rin also brushed off what Shirou believed was a wholly justified concern - “He’s probably just some lingering ghost from a past Grail War. Archer seems to like him fine, and he hangs out around Lancer, so what’s the big deal? If he becomes a problem, we’ll just deal with it like we always do.”

But in Shirou’s view, the Servant was already a problem. It was bad enough that the restored Servants of the Fifth Grail War could still draw upon the wild, free-flowing magic of Fuyuki’s leylines and pop up whenever they pleased - the fact that Servants from previous wars might show up too was giving him anxiety.

And this was before the rumors started.

Nobody seemed to know the guy’s name, or remember it if they saw it written down. He would pop up - always in the vicinity of the cafe - and often left behind gifts. One time, it was a bottle of wine for the manager. Another time, an antique coin for one of the waiters. He always seemed to disappear right when anyone asked for information about him, and reappear whenever something interesting happened. One time, near closing, a couple of drunk university students came in and tried to convince their waitress to leave in their car. When she refused, one of them joked about following her home.

At once, the mystery Servant walked in the door.

Another time, a middle-aged man from out of town shouted at one of the baristas until they had to run into the back to cry for the rest of their shift. On the local news the next morning, the man appeared to have been dropped at the hospital with a broken jaw and a soul full of remorse.

(Lancer actually laughed when he informed Shirou of this story.

“You were there and didn’t say anything?”

“Hey, I was the guy who had to deal with the asshole after he made our barista run off. It wasn’t a big deal, I just happened to call in a favor from a friend. Plus, he deserved it.”

And Lancer winked, like they were sharing an inside joke.)

And so on and so forth. Nobody could purge the service industry of customer horror stories, but this mystery Servant seemed to be doing his damnedest to make a dent in the problem. He was the most ghost-like of any Servant that Shriou had ever encountered.

Ayako and Kaede quickly became regulars at the cafe. Shirou thought it was hard to tell whether or not they were in love with the mystery Servant or whether or not they wanted to challenge him to a duel. It seemed to be a combination of both.

“He’s like, the toughest guy I’ve ever seen,” said Ayako, mystified. “I swear I thought he was going to tear that woman’s throat out.”

“This guy threatened a customer,” Shirou said, “and you’re happy?”

“Well, she was being rude to Yukika,” Kaede retorted, like that settled the matter. “I mean, I wasn’t counting, but I think she sent her coffee back six times before anyone said anything. She kept berating her like it was Yukika’s fault that she kept changing her mind about sugar and milk. She literally lied about what her original order was to get a free drink. It was awful.”

“But then this guy shows up,” Ayako continued the story, talking over Kaede as she continued muttering about the injustice faced by the track team’s manager. “And he clocks what’s happening, like, instantly. I dunno where the blue-haired guy was, I guess he was late for his shift or something, but he just - “

She motioned like she was trying to take up more space than her physical body allowed.

“I swear, it was like you could’ve heard a pin drop! He takes one look at Yukika and just goes up to the lady and -”

Another vague gesture like a karate chop.

“He hit this woman?” Shirou said, outraged.

“Nah, he wouldn’t hit anyone,” Kaede said, nodding sagely. “He doesn’t really need to, you know? You could just take one look at him and you know not to mess with this guy when he’s mad.”

That settled it. Shirou had to investigate on his own, since obviously no one else was going to take this seriously. It was bad that customers were mistreating the staff at Yukika’s job, but a Servant threatening humans was unacceptable.

It was time, at last, to enlist Saber’s help.

She had been living at Shirou’s house since her restoration, recovering from her injuries. Shirou hated the idea of asking her to fight again, especially when she was so clearly enjoying her life as a “normal human,” but he couldn’t afford to hold back if there was a dangerous, unknown Servant in the city. To her credit, Saber was happy to assist. She said she had been meaning to drop by and try Archer’s cooking for quite some time.

The two of them met on Sunday for lunch. Saber ordered two coffees and went into the kitchen to see Archer. Yukika wasn’t on shift today, so Shirou didn’t recognize any of the other staff. But he did notice that they all kept watching the door, as if waiting for something.

After the coffees arrived (Saber’s was left to cool on the table), the bell above the door chimed. Shirou felt the shift in the area’s magical energy before he looked up and saw the Servant himself. It was remarkably subtle, considering that it was like an icy draft passing through the cafe. You wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it.

The waitstaff was suddenly all smiles.

Shirou looked up - and felt his jaw drop to the floor.

He did not look remotely threatening. The mystery Servant was, in fact, the most physically beautiful person that Shirou had ever seen in his life. Tall and muscular - his build was not dissimilar to Lancer, though he lacked Lancer’s wolfish aura - with a head of dark, thick curls. His face was elegant, from piercing, bright eyes all the way down to his perfect lips, only marred by a tiny beauty mark beneath his right eye.

Shirou had to look away, blushing despite himself. What the hell is wrong with me? He realized belatedly that he had come to this battle totally unprepared for a charm attack.

Is this guy cursed or something?

That was the only explanation. Why else did he feel like he would collapse if he looked this Servant directly in the face for too long? It wasn’t normal.

And on second glance, it appeared that Shirou wasn’t the only person taken aback. A couple on a date had paused their conversation to stare at the Servant, murmuring their appreciation in hushed tones; a middle-aged woman was holding a fork in her hand, oblivious to the fact that her cake had just splattered over her shoes. Two little kids were waving at him, apparently recognizing him from somewhere, and their parents had to hurriedly shush them because it’s rude to try and pull someone out of a conversation like that.

One of the waiters was talking to him. Shirou strained to listen, shaking himself.

“Want the usual?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” said the Servant, in a smooth, polite voice that made Shirou hate him irrationally. Stupid, handsome guy. “Is Cu in today?”

“I think he said he’s on vacation,” the waiter replied. “But Emiya’s here if you want to talk to him.”

Shirou looked up, baffled by the fact that the unfamiliar waiter knew his name, momentarily forgetting that Archer had stolen his name as a cover-up.

The Servant noticed. Barely a glance, a flicker of the gaze in his direction.

Shirou turned back and drank deeply from his coffee, which scalded his tongue.

“Oh, I see,” said the Servant, sounding amused now. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing! I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Once the initial shock of the Servant’s appearance dissipated, everything went back to normal so fast that it was almost jarring. The middle-aged woman clicked her tongue and grabbed napkins to clean up her shoes; the couple resumed planning the rest of their day; the kids kept eating, having gotten bored with trying to get the Servant’s attention. The faint, drafty aura of magic passed and the temperature in the cafe seemed to rise back to comfortable levels. Definitely cursed, Shirou decided, frowning into his coffee cup.

“Excuse me?”

Shirou blanched. The Servant had appeared behind him, smiling patiently.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked, indicating Saber’s coffee cup.

Shirou was suddenly, oddly conflicted. Without knowing what this Servant was capable of, was it fair to expose Saber like this?

“Uh, no,” he said, uselessly. “Well, not exactly.”

The Servant waited, patiently, for him to explain. Shirou grimaced.

“My friend is a friend of the guy who cooks here,” he said, hating himself for giving it away. “She wanted to come visit him, so I’m just waiting for her to get back before we leave.”

“Really?” said the Servant, smiling. “That’s nice. You’re a friend of Emiya?”

Shirou twitched. “No. I am Emiya.”

“Oh?”

“Not related to that guy, obviously,” he muttered. “But - anyway,” Shirou blurted, suddenly noticing a distinctive piece of fly-away blonde hair emerging from the kitchen, “it’s a long story, and we’d better get going, so see you later -”

He hastily threw some money down on the table for his coffee and rushed to Saber’s side.

“What’s the matter?” she asked him, brows furrowed with concern. “I thought that you were -”

“Saber!”

Shirou winced, and then - wait a minute. How on Earth did the enemy Servant know Saber’s name!?

To his horror, a huge smile spread over Saber’s face.

“Saber, don’t!” Shirou hissed. “You have to look away! This guy’s got some kind of charm spell on him that -”

Saber only laughed and lightly pushed him aside. Though she’d scarcely used a fraction of her true strength, Shirou stumbled.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Shirou. This is an old friend of mine.”

And she crossed the cafe in order to give the Servant a huge hug. Because Saber was approximately half of the mystery Servant’s size, he was able to lift her easily and spun her in a circle. Saber laughed at this.

“I must admit I’m surprised!” she said. “I didn’t think -”

Saber seemed to become self-conscious. But the enemy Servant merely beamed.

“Think nothing of it! I had no idea you were here in the city.”

“Really? Cu and Emiya didn’t tell you?”

“They mentioned a surprise,” said the Servant, shrugging. “I suppose this must be it.”

Saber shook her head. “Of course they did. Foolish boys.”

“I must apologize - I was introducing myself to your friend.”

“Oh, yes! This is my current Master, Shirou. Shirou,” said Saber, waving to him. “This is my old friend - he was a Lancer in the previous quest for the Grail.”

“Please,” said the former Lancer, “call me Diarmuid, if you’d like.”

He gave away his True Name so casually. Who the hell is he, though? Shirou frowned as he came closer.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t realize you were one of Saber’s friends.”

“And I did not realize you were a mage,” said Diarmuid, breezily. “But no matter! Are you really leaving?” he asked Saber. “Your Master has indicated that you might have plans -”

“Nonsense!” Saber assured him, cheerful as well. “We were just sitting down. Did you order? I’ve been meaning to try Archer’s cooking for awhile, you see, so I plan to stay here for the afternoon.”

Saber and Diarmuid walked back to their table and pulled up a third chair.

Shirou bit back a groan.

It was going to be a long day.

#fate series #diarmuid ua duibhne #shirou emiya #anyway i think that sakura and medusa should be in love

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katcadecascade · 3 years

Text

Road to Home (RWBY fic)

Summery: Rhodes reaches the Glass Unicorn at 11:40pm because someone asked him, “So who’s at home for you?”

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Volume 8 Chapter 6

aka my take on Cinder’s backstory AU

“So who’s back home for you?”

Rhodes kind of hates his name. It’s almost like cruel irony or a bland destiny to always be traveling, constantly on the move, and never staying too long in one place.

“No one. I don’t really have a place to return too.”

He believed that’s just how his life is as a hunter of Grimm. It feels like he’s always taking one mission after the next, a pattern that takes him across the kingdoms. All alone, it’s easier that way, efficient Rhodes believes.

It’s a cold truth he concluded on after his team parted. Talk about a crossroads.

“Hmm.”

Yet every once in a while there’s a hunt that demands many hunters. An abnormally large nest of Nevermores in Vale. If he had the option, Rhodes wouldn’t have joined. The path he wanted to take is the one that’ll take him back to Atlas, all the way back to Cinder.

She’s a tough kid in a not so good situation. That’s all Rhodes can really say on the matter, what with the loose child labor laws and the old reputation that keeps that hotel running. Look, Rhodes ain’t the man for critiquing ethics and socialism, especially Atlas and Mantle of all places.

Still though, he did what he thought was best for Cinder. Train her in secret, visit monthly if possible, and not take her with him. The life of an active huntsman who’s constantly traveling is not ideal for a kid to tag along. At least in the Glass Unicorn, Cinder is under a roof and away from the Grimm.

Or at least that’s what Rhodes keeps telling himself.

Each day he’s away from the girl, he tries to come up with another reason as to why he should not just up and take Cinder with him. For obvious reasons, it’s kidnapping. Then there’s the whole issue of his entire life is not child friendly.

No home for Cinder to be warm in. No extended family that can keep an eye on her when he’s away. No teammates…

And yet last month's visit, there was hesitation on his tongue, wanting to ask if she wanted to accompany him. It’s an outrageous idea, tactless and unreasonable. Training her for the academy entrance exams is the smarter play, a long one but way smarter than just thrusting Cinder onto the road with him of all people.

Rhodes is not the most upstanding role model to look up to, no less having to travel with. Imagine his surprise when a kid looks at him with starry, wide eyes. He doesn’t deserve any of that, not sure if he ever will, yet he kept training her. He kept returning to Atlas for Cinder.

“What’s that humming supposed to mean?”

There’s not many people for Rhodes to return to, even less if anyone ever wanted him in the first place. Cinder is the exception though, his mind excuses. She doesn’t know the mistakes he made, the suffering or aftermath.

In due time, the academy would give her a better life, not him. Just gotta stay in this waiting game, for Cinder’s sake.

“It means that I think you’re lying.”

That’s a long road he’s forcing Cinder to walk. For the longest time, Rhodes believed that was the only course of action for Cinder when really it’s just the path of least resistance. All because he is a coward stuck in the crossroads.

“...Fine. There’s this kid I look out for, that’s all.”

All the excuses he accumulated began the moment he saw Cinder in that dusty storage room. Of course she’s miserable and of course he pities her. Rhodes wasn’t the strategist of his former team, nor was he the heart. He was just the tank, master of waiting for the perfect moment, and the one who ends up walking a long road all alone.

It’s stupid of him to think Cinder should endure it all alone. It’s collassily ignorant of him to give her attention and leave the next day and think that’s proper teaching. It’s akin to constantly relighting a candle wit. One day there will be nothing left to spark.

“That so? It sounds like you must care a lot about her. She must miss you too.”

It took too long for Rhodes to think that maybe his interference has made Cinder’s life worse. He gave her a direction, a goal to reach the academy, a dream of freedom on the open road. Hope can be a powerful and dangerous thing.

Rhodes knows first hand how devastating it can be when hope ends out. He can outlast a storm, a horde of Grimm, nearly anything but that’s no guarantee for the people around him. This always lingers in his head when he’s out on bigger missions with a group of hunters.

“She’s not mine.”

This particular Nevermore hunt had a few familiar faces for Rhodes, all of whom he’d avoided. Then by luck he was caught by some of the newer graduated hunters, probably with only three or five years of experience. Not the ideal team up but the less he complains the quicker they complete the objective.

If only that white hooded huntress wasn’t so talkative and observant. If only she didn’t dig into his vague words and made him think. If only he had learned all of this months early for Cinder’s sake.

“My boyfriend has a baby girl at home. I might not be her birth mother but I will always see her as my daughter.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

There’s a knowing glint in those silver eyes. “You look like you’re eager to return home.”

Rhodes couldn’t get that line out of his head. Eagerness is a burden on long trips, it’s the annoying sibling to waiting, and it’s the very thing on Cinder’s face whenever Rhodes enters the Glass Unicorn.

Eagerness is in his heart that first night after meeting Cinder. He wanted to return. He wanted to take less missions away. He wanted Cinder to finally leave that place.

Why did he insist on making her wait?

Each and every excuse he came up with nipped and lashed at his ankles on every step he took closer to Atlas. The Grimm hunt was dealt with at a near blinding speed and that huntress said she’ll cover for him on the post-hunt reports that he always hated.

For transportation to Atlas, Rhodes had to suck up his pride and call the only other teammate who’s not dead.

“You wouldn’t ask unless it’s an emergency, Rhodes. An airship will be at the airport in an hour.”

“Thank you Willow, I mean it.”

True to his former teammate’s words, the huntsman was later in a private Schnee jet enroute to Atlas. If he was more reckless he would’ve hand it land right at the Glass Unicorn but attention was the last thing he wanted.

Once on the streets, he was practically retracing his steps all the way back to the hotel. Through the late night streets, up the steps and through the fancy lobby. At the reception desk, perfectly orderly is the woman of the establishment.

Her wrinkle lines move along with her cordially smile, prepared for greeting clients no matter the late hour.

Rhodes never thought of this madame in good graces. Rumor has it that the Glass Unicorn didn’t always have child servants back when the lady’s late husband was in charge. Under new management as the saying goes and the regular clients here didn’t bat an eye when the staff dwindled to one young employee.

It’s hypocrisy that he was a part of the silent crowd and only now does he actually react.

On previous visits, he’d always just booked a room and waited for the lobby to empty to get to Cinder. Right now though, Rhodes doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

Once upon a time, he had to brainstorm a myriad of lies to get Cinder out of the hotel. Excuses that range from she’s a missing link in a case or outright threatening to her to hand over Cinder. Well he’s not entirely sure how any of those scenarios would play out but it doesn’t matter in the end.

The mood in the air changes when two blonde girls come running out of the staff door. They’re both frightened out of their perfect composure.

“Mom, come quick, we found something.”

“It’s Cinder, she has a weapon!”

Their mother glares at her daughters and clicks her tongue once the sisters notice the client present.

“Leave,” she demands lowly, “now.”

The girls scamper off in another direction while the lady smooths down her skirt. One hand lingers inside the pocket.

“Pardon me, Huntsman Rhodes, I have to attend to the matter.”

She takes one step, one loud clack of her heels away from the reception desk and Rhodes knew that this was it. It had to be now or never.

“Wait,” Rhodes didn’t waste his movement, striding past the lady and blocking her path to the door. “It’ll be best if I go.”

Scowling as politely as possible, she argues, “Sir, I assure you that girl is absolutely under my control.”

“You’re awfully confident,” Rhodes snaps. This is taking too much time, who knows what’s Cinder doing right now.

“I am,” she raises her voice, not appreciating his attitude.

It looks like she’s about to lecture him about respect so he cuts her off. “I’m going in there, not you. Got it?”

He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s making. Yes he’s angry and impatient and just wants this whole hotel gone. Something about him must have conveyed his true rage because the madame stands frozen, confusion and fear in her slacken jaw and how she took a step back.

Then he sees how her eyes flicker to something behind him.

On some sort of instinct, she took her hand out of her pocket. Clasped there is a remote with a yellow button, her thumb pressed down.

There’s a scream in his ears, a chilling shock down his spine as he turns around and sees Cinder at the doorway. She dropped the sword he gifted her and has one hand on the frame to support her shaking body as electricity rumbles and bites at her neck.

Rhodes never thought to ask why she had a fancy necklace. He wonder how stupid he is for failing to recognise lightning dust. He’s even more of a failure to be surprised that this is happening.

To add more evidence that Cinder has spent far too long in this hotel, Cinder grits her teeth and lets go of the doorframe. She starts limping over, the shockwaves going up and down her skin. Rhodes watches in horror and perverse awe before he hears a button getting mashed.

He grabs the madame’s wrist, snatching the remote out of her hand in seconds, and crushing it in a steel hand. It’s pathetically small help, clearly everything Rhodes has trained Cinder for was not the help she really needed.

There’s a momentarily delay in the remote’s signal as the shock collar continues. Cinder reaches a shaky hand up and rips the collar off, glaring at the source of all her pain.

“Cinder,” Rhodes interferes with her path but the girl is still glaring at the madame. “Let’s leave right now. You don’t have to stay here any longer.” He knees down to her, desperately wishing that the fire in her eyes won’t burn her up. “I’m sorry it took me this long to get you out.”

She still hasn’t looked at him. Yet at his apology tears start welling up. Cinder marches past him, stalking up to the madame who’s backed up against the frontdesk.

“Without you, I am nothing,” Cinder tells her and her tone sounds odd to the huntsman, like the words are warped around her tongue and teeth.

She thrusts her hand up, still holding the shock collar, and harshly presses it to the madame’s throat. In mere seconds, the metal is superheated in Cinder’s grip and the madame cries out, jerking away and falling sideways on the desk and then falling to the floor.

The madame clasps a hand around her neck but Rhodes saw the burnt skin there, diamond shaped like the collar’s centerpiece.

“But because of you,” Cinder hisses and throws the collar at the madame’s face, “I am everything.”

The girl is a heaving mess, her hands curling up and steaming.

“Cinder,” he calls and the girl’s whole body flinches.

Swirling around, Cinder angrily demands at him, “She deserves so much worse!”

“And you deserve better and you will get it all if we leave right now.” Rhodes begs her, “Please, will you come with me?”

Cinder quietly gasps at his question. Some combination of awe and surprise on her young face as she starts crying more.

He honestly doesn’t know if he can talk her out of murder, revenge realisticly. But if he can just take her away from this place then maybe she’ll choose otherwise. Maybe she’ll always want to kill these people but for right now, he needs to physically get away from these people.

The heat of her semblance dims from her hands as Cinder wipes the tears off her cheeks. She stumbles over to Rhodes and once close he hugs her tight. The girl bawls into his chest and Rhodes wastes no time to securely carry her in one arm.

He remembers to pick up Cinder’s fallen sword as he gets up. The madame on the other hand is still on the floor, trembling and confused but not making any motion to stop them. There’s a frantic wheezing coming from her too.

When she glares at them, Rhodes frowns back. “No one is going to ask about tonight, got it?”

The madame bitterly coughs and manages to croak out, “Leave.”

He lets her have the final word and marches out. Cinder got her breath back and has wide, teary eyes as they approach the doors. She squirms for a bit and he lets her down.

Standing on shaky legs, Cinder pushes open the doors with all her might. The wide swing of the doors shakes the frame but the girl doesn’t care. On her first step out of the hotel, the grandfather clock in the lobby rings twelve.

One step outside of the Glass Unicorn and Cinder felt like sobbing, running, and collapsing at the same time. Her hand squeezed tight onto Rhodes’ as she trembled against the midnight air. Its chill is heavenly on her overheated skin, an after effect from the electricity.

It’s all over now. She’s finally free from the madame and her hotel. Cinder just wants to run despite her straining muscles so she leans on Rhodes. He mumbles something about hurrying to the airport, hoping that a plane is still there but Cinder barely comprehends.

She’s actually free and Rhodes had wanted her to leave with him. Each visit, Cinder truly thought that he didn't want her around. The plan was for the academy, where he won’t have to deal with her but instead he actually asked.

Granted Cinder had wished he’d asked like the first night they met. Or maybe years earlier, that would’ve been good too. But here they are. It took her obnoxious step sisters to get too nosey and for Rhodes to finally be there at the right time.

Yet it still feels like Rhodes is late. The madame had one last play with the collar and Cinder wanted to finally end her. She can still feel the buzz in her neck.

Even though they’ve only walked down the street so far, Cinder feels too close and so far away from the Glass Unicorn. She feels like sobbing again.

“Hey, hey,” Rhodes moves his arm to comfortably enwrap her with warmth, “it’s okay now Cinder.”

A sob hitches in her throat and it’s like her semblance is burning her from the inside. Cinder doesn’t think she’s okay right now, she doesn’t believe she’ll ever be okay, but finally walking out of those pristine doors felt so good.

Somewhere in her thoughts, there’s the question on how it would feel like if she actually gave what the madame and her daughters deserved. At the same time, Cinder never wants to enter the Glass Unicorn even if her life depends on it. Which it does not though, she doesn’t ever have to be there again.

She’s finally freed.

That hopeful feeling gets lodged into her throat when suddenly a nice looking car pulls up in front of them. Rhodes holds her close as her heart hammers. Cinder can’t phantom what is going on as the well dressed driver exits and approaches them.

“Mr. Kolossos,” the man nods politely and when he looks at Cinder she flinches but he continues with another nod, “Miss.” He opens the backseat door and waves over, “This way please.”

“I didn’t call for a car,” Rhodes said and walked on, guiding Cinder away from the car.

As they’re passing the open car door, someone from inside scoffs, “Just get in here, Rhodes.”

In the nightlight, it’s hard for Cinder to see inside the car but she sees a feminine figure that matches the voice. Cinder can’t help but shake.

Rhodes on the other hand freezes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up unless you want to walk all the way to the airbay. The jet’s not there by the way.”

The huntsman huffs quietly but up close Cinder can see his lips barely form a smile. He catches her gaze and he winces. Rhodes pinches the bridge of his nose before whispering to her, “Cinder, I know you’ve been through a lot right now but do you still trust me?”

She doesn’t like the unsureness in his eyes, like she’s the one who will hurt him. Cinder knows there has been nights where she outright hates it when he leaves or his plan to wait seven years in that hotel. But every time he comes back, Cinder can’t help but want to hope that this time, she’ll join him.

And now it’s happening she knows that Rhodes is the only person she can rely on. If she’s on her own, well, she’ll have to be everything she needs. Cinder doesn’t know where that will take her but right now, she wants to stay with Rhodes.

“Yes,” Cinder tells him, squeezing his hand back.

“Thank you,” Rhodes smiles and she doesn’t know how to feel about that. Being thanked and stuff, especially over feelings. He looks back over to the car and huffs, “Fine, we’ll get in.”

Rhodes goes in first, still holding Cinder’s hand and worryingly looks between Cinder and the door closed behind her. Cinder kind of appreciates not being in the middle seat. Feeling trapped in a fancy enclosed position is too soon for her anxiety.

Still though, Cinder peeks behind Rhodes’ bulk to see the lady. The car starts up and when they’re passing under streetlights, Cinder sees white long hair of a woman only seen on TV.

“I never imagined this is what your emergency was about.”

“Well, I didn’t need to tell you Willow,” Rhodes said plainly.

Willow Schnee rolls her eyes and accidentally makes eye contact with Cinder. She presses her lips in a thin line, neither mean or annoyed, simply processing. Eventually she sighs and looks away, “You two need a place for the night. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay Rhodes and…”

The empty silence has Willow awkwardly glance back to her. Cinder has never seen an elegant lady look awkward before, it’s kind of odd.

“Cinder,” she fills in.

“Cinder,” Willow repeats. “Alright, well,” she sighs again, faces the front, “we’ll be at home soon enough.”

At that word, home , Cinder tenses and relaxes. Any place is better than the hotel. She leans into Rhodes’ side and closes her eyes.

Thanks for reading!

#rwby fic #rwby spoilers #rwby #cinder fall #rwby au

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too-much-sunshine · 3 years

Text

Fangs for the Hospitality

Chapter 1

Summary: After Remus goes a bit too far during a family reunion bet, Roman finds himself alone and near freezing outside in an early winter storm. His car broke down, and he's in the middle of nowhere with no phone. He cant seem to catch a break. Deciding his life cant much worse, Roman decides to head into the woods looking for help. His luck may be turning when the man who opens the door is a lot more charming than he should be. His kids are fascinated by the new face appearing from the woods. And man this guy has some sharp teeth... Maybe Roman bit off a bit more than he can chew with this one.

A/N: My self-indulgent magic/vampire fic! Let me know if I need to tag something or you wanna be tagged!

Pairings: Familial DAM, Creavtivitwins, Eventual Roceit, Eventual Intrulogical

Warnings: (Done per chapter) Car trouble, mention of bets, gossip, mentions of bad family relations

Word Count: 1466

Read on AO3!

“God Dammit! No no nonono please! Don’t do this to me!” Roman whined at his car from behind the wheel from the driver's seat.

Despite his pleading, the car continued to sputter even louder than previously. Finally starting to slow down, leaving Roman no choice other than to pull his car off to the side of the road.

He continued to lament his plight to no one except the empty seat beside him, leaning over to place his forehead on the steering wheel. At this point he couldn't even try to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks landing on his lap.

There was no one else on the empty, countryside road making it easy to do so.

“Why does this always happen to me!?” He whined as he turned the key finally giving the engine a much needed break. “I can’t do this anymore! The world hates meee!”

Earlier that day the passenger seat was filled by his overly excitable twin brother, Remus, on their way to the yearly family reunion. Roman has always hated these reunions with a burning passion. He only went because he was expected to at this point.

There was always too much expectation from everyone at the reunions. Since his family was quite well off they were the one to host every year. Inviting everyone to their too grand, too big victorian style home.

Remus, on the other hand, had always liked the family reunions. He too was asked those questions (well not the one about his career, they were all quite proud of him becoming a doctor. Specifically an obstetrician and gynecologist. Remus said it was because delivering babies was gross and dealing with people who have female reproductive systems health could be horrifying, but he can never deny how much he liked helping the people he did. He has a counter on his fridge of how many babies he has brought into the world and sometimes he even looks at it and smiles, not that Remus knew that Roman saw him do that.) but Remus let the other questions roll straight off his back in a way Roman never could.

He was holding on hope that this year, like every year, would be different. Maybe his mother would stop asking if he had chosen a more suitable career path like Remus. Maybe his grandmother would stop asking if he found a pretty girl yet. Maybe his grandfather would be anything more than dismissive toward him. Maybe...maybe his dad might show up to this one.

Not to mention that they also just made him wildly uncomfortable. Too many people really. All those people being fake and backhanded. He alway felt like they were looking specifically at him as he walked by. Just a bad time for him all around.

Remus really liked the reunions because of the gossip and chaos of it all. Every year as soon as they arrived he would immediately go and find their cousin Remy to lay down the new hot tea about the family. Then after all that was settled they would place bets on who could get the most outrageous rumor started. Remy would typically win because of his talent for making such believable lies. Remus always went too far off the deep end and the family didn't usually believe what they were being told. Which was completely fair because “what do you mean Jill isn't here because she suddenly decided to take a trip to West Virginia to look for Mothman? Remus Jill is 89 years old. And who is Mothman?”

That stupid rumor game is what started this whole mess anyway. Roman always tried to stay out of it. He wasn't very good at the game, though he was a good actor he was very bad at lying. So for the past few years he'd skip out on playing. He'd just go to his corner, and wait for the night to be over.

This year Remus and Remy decided to up the ante as it were. There was going to be a whole $50 bill on the line this time (though that was trump change compared to how much money his family actually made). Remus is never one to back down from a challenge and though he's a doctor, he doesn't tend to think ahead of his actions all that well. Especially when he got a bit too excited. That being said, he really messed things up for Roman this time.

That stupid game had made everyones eyes turn to him for an explanation that he didn’t have. Forced him to run from the house and flee in his car without Remus behind him.

Roman didn't take time to dwell on the fact he was his brother's ride.

With his head still on the steering wheel he closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this one, so he continued to sit a wallow a bit. Maybe he’ll just wait a bit and his car will start back up…

~~~

Roman pulled the car into the last spot left open in the large parking lot outside of their parents mansion.

He pulled in between what looked to be his Aunt Clara and Uncle Jim's red corvette, and his Grandmother dark blue rolls-royce. He took extra care parking in between the two very expensive cars. Making sure to leave plenty of room around them and his own, significantly crappier car. He knew from experience that if he didn't leave the room he would be getting an earful later from said family members.

As he turned the key he let out a nervous breath looking over to Remus who was almost bouncing in his seat.

“You ready?” Roman asked with a slight smile. As much as he was worried to be here, he was glad his brother would have a good time.

“I can’t wait! I can’t wait to beat Remy's ass this year! I have such a good rumor that the whole family is going to believe for years to come. That 50 dollars is mine!” Remus smiled bright and pumped his fist in the air.

Roman couldn’t help but feel excited for him. Remus even seemed more excited now, if the bouncing and fidgeting said anything.

“I’m sure you’ll get it out of him one way or another. Come on, let's go.” Roman started for his car door when Remus’ arm shot out and stopped him. Roman looked back to Remus to see he had stopped bouncing, seeming somewhat sobered. Looking more serious, and to be contemplating something tilting his head back and forth. Then he finally spoke.

“Listen...I know this isn't your kind of thing since dad left... But I’m with you okay? Stick with me if you need to. Those old assholes don't know what they're talking about with you, okay?” Remus looked slightly shy as he spoke, not looking directly at Roman.

Still, Roman smiled softly at his twin, both a bit confused and touched. Remus didn't typically try and make Roman feel better; he wasn't very good with words. But he did appreciate the sentiment.

“Thank you Remus. I’ll try to enjoy myself. Might even try to leave my corner if I feel so inclined.” Roman smiled. “Maybe dable in a little bit conversion. Just try to keep your hijinks somewhat clean and manageable.”

“Well that's no fun!” And Remus was back to his normal self, seeming grateful for the topic change. “My only reason to be here is to cause chaos and you know it! Now let's go! There is supposed to be a really big storm coming and if we're lucky the snow will distract everyone from when I plan to steal the bust of great Aunt Kathy!” Remus cackled as he exited the car, way more excited then he should be for a man who admitted to planning theft.

Roman took the moment alone to take a stealing breath. He looked out the window at the huge family house where he grew up. It was much too big, too grand for children to grow up in. It didn't feel like home anymore. Looking back it never really did to Roman.

He hated coming here and he hated the feelings associated here. But if it makes Remus happy to come here together, and it keeps the rest of his family off his back, he’ll keep trying. A knock on the window made him jump out of his thoughts.

“You fucking ready!? I’m freezing my tits off out here ya know!” Remus shouted too loud for how close he was to the window.

“As I’ll ever be…” he muttered to himself, smiling a bit at Remus being Remus as he unbuckled his seatbelt and left the car.

~~~

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@primaveradoodles

#sanders sides #ts roman sanders #ts roman #ts remus sanders #ts remus #car trouble #mentions of bets #gossip #bad family relations #eventual roceit #roceit #eventual intrulogical #intrulogical #magic au #vampire au #sanders sides fanfiction #verys fic

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whitetigerdemoness · 4 years

Text

People (like, one person) asked for a continuation of Evillustrator messing up Lila due to being fed up with the class shitting on Marinette and well...here. I’m shipping trash so peep the tags first. As an explanation for the end, it is my full belief Hawkmoth does not need a strong negative emotion to akumatize someone, just a strong emotion. Negative emotions are just easier for him to manipulate.

Master post of all chapters

The day was not going so well for the Evillustrator. He had been moments away from chucking Lila Rossi, bound and gagged, of off the school roof when Ladybug and Chat Noir had arrived (How had they gotten there so fast anyhow?). After a very brief scuffle he had barely managed to get away in one piece. Hawkmoth had been badgering him non-stop about fleeing instead of fighting, but Evillustrator had played this game before and lost. He had seen dozens of other Akuma try and ultimately fail against the super duo, all recklessly throwing themselves at the pair.

What he needed was a plan, something the red head had never been good at. He created things. He didn’t think about them. He needed someone to direct him. Someone good with seeing things from all their different angles. Not just anyone would do, it would have to be someone who knew how superheroes operated. Someone like...

“Hey Hawkmoth? Do you think you could send me another Akuma? I need my writer.”

....................................................

Marc wasn’t having a very good day. First he had forgotten his lunch this morning. Then during science lab the akuma alarms had gone off and caused him to drop the glass beaker he had been holding on the floor, shattering it. Which caused his own personal bully to harass him more than usual. Which was a lot seeing as Juste had some weird hyper fixation on him as a target to begin with. Then when he thought he could finally escape to the art room at the end of the day (what? of course classes were not canceled. If class was canceled every time there was an akuma, there would be no class) Nathaniel had been absent. Oh, and it was raining and Marc had forgotten his umbrella.

So here he was, hood pulled up in a futile attempt to keep dry, walking home alone. He had taken the back exit from the school to avoid the police cars out front, taking a statement from a sobbing girl Marc vaguely recognized as the new girl who sat next to Nathaniel that Nath grumbled about sometimes. Something about her being too talkative. Oh well, none of his business. Maybe if he got home fast enough he could sneak into his room before his older brother saw him and started picking on him. What a great day.

Marc was so wrapped up in his dour thoughts he didn’t notice the person standing in front of him until he walked into them. Instead of landing on his butt as he flinched away to apologize, warm arms wrapped around him holding him in place.

Grinning down at him (how? Marc was taller than Nath so why...?) was the Evillustrator.

Marc’s day really sucked.

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

“So let me get this straight. You want me to voluntarily be akumatized again so I can come up with a plan for how you can defeat Ladybug and Chatnoir?”

“So we can defeat them!” Evillustrator said, almost pleading, a black butterfly lazily resting on his hat. The akuma had taken Marc to a currently abandoned warehouse, sweeping the shocked teen into his arms and hopping over rooftops like they were hopscotch squares. Evillustrator had used his powers to dry Marc off and create the most comfortable chair Marc had ever sat in. The akuma had also tried to create some hot chocolate, but had discovered his powers of creation did not extend to edible items. Every time he tried he only got wax and plastic props. Despite currently being a kidnapping victim, Marc was pretty content. He couldn’t remember the last time someone went so far to make him comfortable. There was only the small issue of his friend trying to posses him with a demonic butterfly.

“I don’t really want to defeat them. They protect the city from Hawkmoth. Besides, you basically have the most versatile super power ever. Why do you need me?” Even purple and wearing a ridiculous skin tight outfit (which Marc was NOT complaining about but...) Nathaniel, that is, Evillustrator was almost too adorable for Marc to say no too. Despite the stupid hat, those puppy eyes were lethal.

“How....” Marc sighed, “How did you even get akumatized in the first place?” He really probably should have been more afraid of the akuma, but lavender or not this was Nath. Marc was 90% certain he would never hurt him. 80%, Marc corrected glancing at the butterfly.

“Lila.” Evillustrator hissed, faced turning a complete 180 from adorable to menacing. Wow, were his teeth that sharp before? Maybe 80% was too generous, Marc thought though he still didn’t feel threatened. He probably needed to work on his self preservation instinct.

“That conniving vixen,” Evillustrator spat in a way that Marc was sure had he not been in polite company would have been an entirely different adjective “Since day one she has had the entire class wrapped around her little finger with her outrageous lies. She’s slowly been poisoning them against Marinette, the only one brave enough to stand up to her, and everyone BELIEVES her! Even me at first! I can’t believe I was so stupid...but today was the last straw.” Evillustrator had stood from where he had previously been kneeling at Marc’s feet and was now furiously pacing back and forth. Stalking, more like.

“Lila claimed to have created one of Marinette’s deigns herself, saying that MARINETTE was the one lying for attention and everyone just-just BELIEVED it!” The akuma shouted, throwing up his arms. “You know the worst part? Marinette got there just in time to hear how everyone thought she was a liar. Sweet, kind Marinette. I couldn’t take it anymore. I wish I had been brave enough to do something sooner, but now at least I’m strong enough to do something.” The dark look on Evillustrator’s face said that something might be homicide.

“How do Ladybug and Chatnoir fit into all this?” Marc questioned. He had heard rumors about Marinette that painted her in a bad light, but had quickly dismissed them as nonsense. He had no idea they had gotten so bad...Marc felt a little guilty for not noticing sooner.

“As I was throwing Lila off the roof-”

“As you were WHAT?”

“-Ladybug and Chatnoir saved her.” Evillustrator plowed on, ignoring the outburst. “Come to think of it, they always save Chole too, and XY’s manager that one time. If they’re such good people why are they always saving the bad guys?” Marc stopped Evillustrator’s furious pacing by grabbing his hands. In the back of his mind, Marc thought he must be having some sort of....mental breakdown, or crisis or something. Who just calmly walks up to an akuma and touches them? Him apparently. Why couldn’t he be this bold when Evillustrator was Nathaniel? There had to be something wrong with him that he felt calmer and more confident around his crush’s evil alter ego than his actual crush.

“Evillustrator,” Not Nathaniel. Akuma were notoriously touchy about their names. Having been akumatized himself once Marc sort of understood. He didn’t remember being Reverser, but he recalled feelings. Impressions. The names were important. “Ladybug and Chatnoir save them because they’re the good guys. They wouldn’t be very heroic if they let someone die just because they didn’t like them. Besides, letting people die won’t solve anything anymore than throwing Lila off the school roof would.”

“You’re right.” Evillustrator murmured. “We should throw her off the Eiffel Tower.”

“No.” Marc scolded. “Please surrender to Ladybug. Then we can go home and-”

“No!” Evillustrator snapped, clutching Marc’s hands a little too tight in alarm. “I can’t do that! I have to get their miraculous!” The akuma looked frantic. The butterfly that had been napping on his hat fluttered away as if startled.

“But why? For Hawkmoth? What ever he promised you, it isn’t worth it.” Marc pleaded.

“It is! You are!” The akuma spoke fervently, leaning closer to Marc’s face than he liked.

“M-me?” The writer stammered, puzzled.

“Yes.” Evillustrator whispered, voice going soft. “If I get him his treasures, he’ll let me keep my treasure.” Marc’s heart was pounding so fast as he processed the confession he couldn’t tell you exactly when his beating heart became a fluttering butterfly.

#miraculous ladybug #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel

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onisiondrama · 4 years

Photo

PART 11 - videos #20 & 21

(Click here for video mirrors) - These are not my words or thoughts, I’m just summarizing what Greg / James is saying in his videos. Apologies for any offensive language or comments that may appear. - I am not repeating stories anymore and will replace these stories with brackets describing what he’s talking about. If you don’t know these stories you’re going to have to go back and read previous parts or watch his previous videos.

a message

- Says he’s still mad at the Socrates, or Oedipius, or the guy that made love to his mom, quote. It’s unfair to start a campaign about someone and only talk to people they hard rejected from their life and talk to no one who is fine with them. You have a biased, dishonest presentation, outrage culture, fraud. In reference to the quote, he asks if you lose when you resort to slander, if you start you campaign with slander are you already a loser? With all the news articles about Chris Hansen he was probably already a loser. - He wants to read another email. The person says they’ve been following the story unfold. Greg says he’s like candy tits, everyone’s obsessed with the fake Onision drama. There’s no one in his basement but him, fucking idiots. People think this is like another episode of R Kelly interviews. He doesn’t see the value in anyone under 19 at this point. They have garbage brain. He lucked out with Kai. Says he still doesn’t know what’s going on with their relationship at the moment. - Person says they’re glad he’s finally talking about everything in a serious way. He says it’s sad the internet forced him to do this. When someone’s silent, creepy motherfuckers make theories about them. He might lose fans for saying this, but you guys have to accept the truth. You’re awful drama queens. He’s only addressing this because people used their perverted minds to make stuff up about him. Hansen is the most creepy of all and made the most wild theories and he never met him. [He pretends to be Chris Hansen and says there might be 12 people Greg sexually assaulted, then greets Mike Morse and says they can both project onto him.] - Person says they’re not a fan or anti-o. Greg clarifies anti-o is anti-Onision. There’s a whole community that’s anti Onision because they have nothing better to do with their lives. He says he doesn’t call himself anti-OJ, anti-Michael Jackson, or anti-R Kelly because he has a life. If you join an anti Onision community you’re probably a moron who should have been aborted. - Person says they’re objective, but a SJW and believes you should always believe victims. Greg says “always believe victims” isn’t the same as “always believe alleged victims.” People who are rejected lash out. When he was around 17, a girl who was a year older than her dumped him and he lashed out at her. She told him she did drugs and was tied to a tree and taken advantage of. He was mortified, but frustrated that she was on drugs that put her into that state. He doesn’t know if she drugged more while already on drugs. He doesn’t know why he shared that story, he doesn’t have a filter. When he was 17 he demonized her because he wasn’t mature. He wanted to feel sorry for himself. Instead of lashing out, he defends himself. You don’t lash out at people unless they lash out first otherwise they can use that to claim they’re innocent. You shouldn’t believe people who just point fingers, you should believe evidence. - Person says perception is reality. Through their experiences they knows how young ladies can be so they wanted to hear Greg’s side without the Onision character. They feel he did that and they believe him. They say they’re sure these girls believe their stories. Greg says no they don’t. [Lists reasons why he dumped them.] He doesn’t see how they can warp that into them being a victim. If you get fired from a job, typically it’s not the job’s fault. It’s your fault. People reinvent reality to make them self the victim. - Person says they believe there is truth to the girls’ stories in many aspects. Greg tells them to be specific. - Person says they also believe Greg’s side and they’re proud of him for making these videos. They say the truth will prevail and they hope Greg, Kai, and these girls are able to find resolve at the end. [Greg talks about and describes the crime Sarah went through in detail.] He says he believes Sarah because she didn’t go on a campaign against the person that committed the crime. She ignored it and that’s how you typically are when you go through horrible things. Like how Kai reacted to what Greg and Sarah did to him. Everyone should respect Kai, a silent victim. Says Sarah lied before, but in that situation she’s not seeking money or clout. It’s just a story she told him, so that proves to him there she had no motive to make it up. He’s saying she needs to go on Hansen and release the name of the person who committed the crime against her. - Person says they’re writing the email to encourage Greg and Kai to stay brave. They tell him they’re not taking screen shots of their emails. Greg says it’s sad people have to say they’re not taking screen shots. That’s why he hasn’t been putting screen shots in these video. [Lost Patreon by posting a “nice” screen shot story.] Says he’s terrified of screen shotting people because they can manipulate it. - [Greg goes on about how you should report stuff, but it might be taken seriously because people lie about being victims.]

noticed

- Email from former Patreon apologizing for believing the internet rumors. Says they changed their mind when they watched Hansen’s interview with Sarah and she said she had been collecting evidence on Greg since she was 16, normal victims don’t do that. Greg says it’s news to him that she was out to get him since she was 16. He says in another email he found out she admitted nothing happened until she was 18 1/2. He clarifies she didn’t says 1/2, but that’s when it happened. - Person says that’s when they realized this was a sting operation against Greg, especially since she was in contact with his past exes. Greg says it’s weird because Sarah would trash his exes in front of him and Kai all the time. She would say Billie is stupid and Ayalla is a psycho. He thinks she says the same about himself and Kai. He doesn’t trust Sarah, especially after she switched personalities. [Sarah blackmailed story] Says after Sarah stormed off with her suitcase, Kai went to check on her and Sarah turned around happy and said hi to Kai. He says this was a weird personality change. Kai knew Greg saw Sarah upset last before Kai approached Sarah. - Person says they see red flags. [Crime committed against Sarah] He says he has a hero complex so he felt bad for her when she told him about it, but the red flags are that she’s being malicious to people who did nothing wrong to her and not malicious to someone who committed a crime against her. He says she might be going after them because there’s more to gain for attacking people who are well known. - Person asks for forgiveness. Greg forgives them. - Person asks what victim gathers evidence for two years before they become a victim? Greg agrees and says Sarah said nothing happened until she was past 18. [Dat booty tho story, Sarah threatening to take pills and confessed love for Greg story] He says there’s a whole demented, twisted delusion and it’s not surprising her story keeps changing. [Sarah said Kai did nothing wrong, bloopers look suspicious explanation] - Person lists examples and suggests Sarah was taking notes because she knew she would be groomed one day and would keep coming back to their house. [Or at least that’s what Greg said they said. I had a hard time understanding him when he was directly reading.] Greg says all the evidence Sarah presented was from when she was well into adulthood. When you go out on a date with someone and you’re nice to them you can say they were grooming you. [Sarah said she groomed Greg and Kai, blackmail.] - [Greg finds another supportive email.] He thanks them and tells them he’s not a victim. Kai’s a victim, Kai’s not evil. He and Sarah know Kai is a good person. Says Sarah said the other day she still has love for Kai while she tried to destroy Kai’s life. - He says apparently Sarah fake cried in her blooper video. He was written about how she’s so bad at fake crying. [Lists blooper video differences.] - Says Sarah wrote to his requesting he take down the video where she says Kai was innocent when he uploaded it the second time. He was told she tweeted something stupid and political like “to a divided house shall not stand” or something right after he uploaded it. He received an email from her requesting the removal of the video. Sarah’s trying to cover up that video because it was so damning to her. He tells viewers to watch the video. He tells viewers to consider the fact Kai was pressured into doing things and that Sarah apologized for r-a-p-i-n-g folks. He says once you get woke and connect the dots you can come back to reality with the rest of is.

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takerfoxx · 5 years

Text

IM Swiftly Descending Darkness, Chapter 4

Satoko picked up another letter, sliced open the envelop with her brass letter-opener, and took it out. Then, after taking a moment to emotionally brace herself, she scanned its first few sentences.

Her mouth, already set in a straight line, thinned out even further. Another condemnation. She set the letter in the trash pile.

Three days had passed since that disaster at the market, and the aftereffects were still being felt. Most of the children who had been hurt (which was most of them) were still nursing their wounds. Noba was recovering, but slowly. He had to remain in bed most of the time, as moving around too quickly gave him dizzy spells. Rumia and Kohta were a mess of bruises from the beating they had taken. Keiichi and Shinji’s noses had both swollen right up. And the list went on.

And that was just the physical hurts. The children were scared and they were angry. Most still carried some lingering traumas from whatever had happened to their families; even those who had been too young to remember it retained subconscious wounds, while others, like Kana, had their entire psyches altered by what they had suffered, perhaps irreparably. That much Satoko had been more than prepared to deal with. But having other Humans turn on them, the very ones that were supposed to support and protect them?

Satoko quite frankly didn’t even know how to begin to deal with that.

Oh, she was trying; they all were, she and the rest of her helpers. It seemed that every interaction with the children lately was to assure and reassure them that no, they were not to blame for what had happened, that there was nothing wrong with them, that the blame was solely upon stupid people, that this would all blow over eventually and everything would be fine.

Sometimes, as she parroted that last part over and over, Satoko could almost allow herself to believe it.

Curiously, the one that seemed to be having the easiest time of comforting the children was Mokou. Satoko was still deeply displeased with how she had handled the fight, but there was something about her blunt nature and rough demeanor that the kids found encouraging. At least when she told them that she would be able to protect them if anyone came after them, she sounded like she meant it.

Unfortunately, Mokou might not be around much longer, as the more Satoko thought of it, the more she was convinced that their cook with a mysterious past might be more useful elsewhere.

Satoko took a deep breath. Then she picked up the next letter.

The messages had been arriving en masse ever since the fight, and their contents fell into two competing camps. Many were very encouraging: messages of support, of condemnation of Skinner and Sonozika’s rhetoric, of expressing disbelief of the youkai-tainted rumors, of promising to provide whatever aid and supplies they needed, and how they were just so outraged that those animals would attack children that were both helpless and parentless like that.

Those messages were fortunately in the majority, and every one made Satoko feel just a little better. She made a mental note to display them someplace where the kids could see. They needed to hear those words of support even more than she did.

Unfortunately, there were more than a few of the other kind, letters that full of bile and hate. Satoko just didn’t understand people who thought like that. What exactly were they so scared of that would drive them to hate helpless children so much?

Fortunately, this was one of the good ones, coming from the Southern Road Village, this one openly condemning the net of paranoid superstition that had descended upon the center of Human civilization and pledging to provide anything that the orphanage needed now that they weren’t allow into the market. There was also a very bewildered inquiry as to exactly why so many people in the Human Village had become so stupid. They weren’t alone, as Satoko had received many similar questions from their other supporters. It seemed that everyone either simply accepted that the children were dangerous and deserved whatever happened to them or was completely and utterly baffled by the sheer stupidity of that line of thinking.

Satoko wished that she had answers for them, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t come up with an explanation. Paranoia over youkai was nothing new to Humans; in fact, it was part of a regular cycle that seemed to come around every other generation or so. But this was the first time that paranoia had grown to include children that had lost their families to youkai attacks! No matter how one spun it, it made no sense!

Then Satoko paused. A troubling thought had just occurred to her.

All of that talk about the children being somehow cursed just because most of them had lost their families to youkai attacks was utter nonsense, but what if it had originated from a place of truth?

What if someone had found out about Keine?

Keine was honestly a total sweetheart, and if she did tend to get into trouble a lot along with her friends, it only stood to show that she was also a perfectly normal kid as well. However, the fact that she was half-youkai would understandably make a lot of people nervous, especially considering what Satoko had been told about how she had been conceived. To tell the truth, Satoko herself had been reluctant to take the girl in. What if her monstrous excuse for a father’s nature turned out to be hereditary? What if she grew up to be a monster? While she was in no way to blame for her father’s actions, Satoko had not wanted to risk the safety and wellbeing of the other children under her care to find out.

Fortunately, that proved not to be the case, and Keine turned out to be a lovely and intelligent young girl, if at times a bit mischievous, for which Satoko blamed (and thanked) Rumia Yagami and Kohta Momoi. But her youkai parentage would still likely cause alarm if anyone knew. Aside from her two closest friends, not even the other children knew.

Keine hadn’t been singled out during the fight, so it stood to reason that her secret was still uncovered, at least in part. But it was also possible that some details had leaked, that it had somehow gotten out that one of the kids was of youkai descent, even if it wasn’t known exactly who it was.

Satoko glanced over to the pile of positive letters. As much as she appreciated all the words and promises of support, with how everything was going she wasn’t sure how much longer she could count on it. Being banned from both of the major markets was a blow. Sure, many of the farms had pledged to keep them supplied with food, but it wasn’t just food that they needed. Joshua needed supplies to keep up with the house’s repairs, Shion and Haruhi needed materials for the clothing, the children still needed things like medicine, craft supplies, entertainments, and a few dozen other necessities that they could no longer purchase. Plus, while she did not doubt that the support they were getting was genuine, how long could they count on it to last? If those lies continued to spread, then even their most adamant supporters would soon feel pressure from their friends, families, and neighbors to leave the children to their own devices.

Though Satoko still didn’t want to entertain Mokou’s suggestion of preparing the kids for actual violence, there was value in some of her ideas. They already had a small vegetable garden. It was perhaps time to expand that into something larger that could be fallen back on when the food from the outside stopped coming in. Maybe they could get a few animals as well. As for other supplies, well, that was something of a bigger problem. Nothing insurmountable, but they could be expected to have some tough seasons ahead of them until solutions were found.

Sighing, Satoko slumped forward with a palm pressed against her forehead. Maybe she ought to move the orphanage after all. Not to the Human Village, but…somewhere else. Like to one of the more advanced youkai settlements. Like the Tengu, for example. The Tengu were certainly, well, eccentric, but they at least weren’t murderous or deliberately cruel.

It scared her that she was honestly considering this.

How had this happened? Sure, she had had issues with the other Humans in the past, with complaints about resources and manpower given over to their protection, but never open hostility like this. In fact, according to the stories she had heard from her mother and grandmother, the times in which youkai paranoia was at its highest were when the Human Village was at its most helpful, as they viewed the orphans as proof of the youkai’s evil natures and thus as victims to be protected. And they had never, ever once even entertained the thought that the children might be as dangerous as the youkai themselves. It was sheer lunacy!

As Satoko sat there brooding over the situation, she heard a loud thump come from the hallway outside her door.

She stiffed. Then she quieted her breathing and listened. Maybe it was just the old house settling, or maybe some animal had gotten onto the roof.

Another thump, followed by footsteps. No, someone walking the halls.

But who? It was far past the children’s bedtime, and she knew what the quiet scurrying of one of them getting up to use the restroom or a drink of water sounded like. These sounded heavier and more erratic, like someone was searching for something.

Satoko rose from her chair and carefully went over to the door. She opened it just a crack and peered out.

There was someone in the hallway all right, someone walking away from her room. The way they were walking was odd, a sort of uneven stagger while they grasped this way and that with their hands, like they were drunk or stunned by a blow to the head.

An intruder? Maybe even a youkai or some other wicked spirit. There were many demons that wandered the forests, though how one of them had gotten past the wall of charms that surrounded their land she couldn’t fathom. Regardless, she was now thinking that Mokou had been right, that there really was some kind of deep-seated conspiracy against them.

Then Satoko was struck by a terrible thought. Wards and charms worked great against youkai, fairies, demons, and the like, but they would do nothing against Humans. And now Humans were what they had to fear.

Then the figure stopped in the middle of the hall, and though their features were hard to make out in the dark, Satoko finally recognized enough of their silhouette to realize who it was.

Now confused rather than scared, Satoko opened the door and stepped out. “Nob?” she said.

Noba didn’t respond. He just stood in place.

“Noba, what’s wrong?” Satoko said as she approached the boy. “You’re still hurt! You should be in bed.”

“Coming,” he muttered without turning toward her. “They’re coming. All of them. They’re coming. Leaving tonight. Black house burning in the moonlight.”

Uh-oh, it sounded like he was sleepwalking. That happened from time to time, especially with the more traumatized kids. However, Noba had never been one of them.

“We all fall down,” he said as he finally turned toward her. His eyes were wide open but weren’t focused on anything. He just stared right past her, as if seeing something in the distance through the house walls. “Into the fire. Playing with fire, playing with…”

“Noba,” Satoko said as she gently gave his shoulder a shake. “Wake up!” Noba didn’t react at first, so Satoko gave his shoulder a harder shake.

This time it worked. Noba jerked in surprise, his eyes widening further. “Ah!” he said as he jerked back away from her. “Get away, get away!”

“Noba, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Satoko said soothingly.

The boy had crouched down into a ball, arms covering his head. “No, don’t! Stop! Don’t hit me anymore, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…”

“Noba, it’s me!” Satoko said. “It’s just me. You’re okay. You were just having a bad dream.”

Noba paused. Then he cautiously looked out from between his arMiss “Miss Satoko?” he said breathlessly.

Satoko knelt down in front of him. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re not in danger. It was just a bad dream.”

“I…” Noba slowly lowered his arms and looked around. “How? Why am I, uh…”

“You were sleepwalking,” Satoko told him. “That’s all that happened. You had a bad dream and started sleepwalking.”

“A bad dream?” Noba swallowed. “But it…it was…the house was on fire and people were hitting us and I, uh, I…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Satoko soothed. She gently took the terrified boy and drew him into her arMiss “You’re safe now. It was just a dream.”

At sixteen summers and nearing his seventh, Noba was the eldest of the children in the orphanage, and as such he had a young man’s aversion to showing any sort of emotional vulnerability. But tonight he didn’t resist at all and held onto her tightly.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Satoko said as she stroked the boy’s hair. “It was just a dream. You’re safe here.”

“But…But they’re out there, they’re out there all around. They know where they are, they know where we are…”

The scary thing was, this wasn’t the first time Satoko had heard terrified children speaking words to that effect after waking from a nightmare. However, this was the first time that they didn’t refer to youkai.

“They can’t get you,” Satoko said, though in her heart she wondered how true that was. “You’re safe here. We won’t let them get you. I won’t let them get you.”

Noba’s shaking was starting slow, and his breathing was evening out. “But…But…” Then he sighed. “Okay. Okay.”

“Would you like something from the kitchen?” Satoko said. “Some warm wine, maybe?”

Noba shook his head. “No. No, I just…I just…feel so tired.”

“All right. Come on.”

Taking him by the hand, Satoko led Noba back to the boy’s dorm. “But…But why did they do that?” Noba muttered as he rubbed his head. “Why did they come for us like that?”

Satoko opened the door. “It was a dream, Noba,” she reminded him. “A dream.”

Noba looked at her in confusion. “Then why does my head still hurt?” he said before going back in. To this, Satoko had no answer.

As she shut the door, Satoko came to a decision. She couldn’t allow this to happen again. They needed to know what was happening to them.

She walked through the halls toward one door in particular. She lifted her hand, hesitated for a moment, and knocked.

Though no one answered, she heard a sudden movement from within, like someone sitting up abruptly.

She knocked again. “Mokou?” she called through the door. “It’s me. Can we talk?”

At first there was silence, then she heard Mokou say, “All right, just give a moment here.”

Satoko waited. From beyond the door she heard the sound of shuffling about. Then the door opened.

Mokou warily looked down at her. She was wearing her pants and shirt, but the suspenders weren’t drawn up and her shirt was unbuttoned, no doubt from having been hastily thrown on.

“What’s up?” Mokou said. “Something happen?”

Satoko took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to have woken you, but I have something I need to ask of you.”

Mokou quirked an eyebrow. She leaned out to glance from one end of the hall to the next. Then she stood aside to invite Satoko in.

Despite only being at the Children’s Home for a couple years, Mokou had quickly become very popular among the children, and was often the recipient of little gifts and tokens of admiration. And they were all on display in her room, from pressed flowers to pretty rocks to hand drawn pictures and earnestly awkward letters. There were no other decorations however, no mementos of her previous life or trinkets picked up from other places.

“Okay, so what do you need me to do?” Mokou said. “Does it involve any, uh…” She drew a slender finger across her own throat.

“No!” Satoko said hastily “Nothing like that.” Then she sighed. “But I was thinking about our talk earlier, and while I still don’t approve of how you reacted to that fight, you did have a point. Something is at work, something that threatens our children. And we need to know what it is.”

“Ah, I get it,” Mokou said with a nod. “You want me to start poking around, looking up contacts and see if they know anything.”

“Exactly,” Satoko said.

Mokou shrugged. “Yeah, I can do that, no problem. Only thing is, most of the people that I’d have to talk to don’t exactly come from around here. Actually, a lot of them live pretty far out, and a few aren’t exactly stationary. Which mean it might take some time to hunt them down.”

“Some time?” Satoko said, her heartrate rising. She didn’t like the thought of Mokou being gone for too long. “Even if you fly?”

“Look, flying from one end of Gensokyo to the other might only take a day or so, but this isn’t a case of going from Point A to Point B. I don’t even know where some of these people are right now. They tend to just go where they want without notice."

“Oh,” Satoko said.

“But I will make a point of checking in between visits,” Mokou added as she started buttoning up her shirt. “And hopefully I won’t have to look up too many names before I get things figured out.”

Satoko frowned as Mokou slipped her shirt tails into her pants and pulled up her suspenders. “Um, wait, what are you doing?”

Mokou, who had just opened a drawer in his cabinet, looked at her in surprise. “Huh?”

“Why are you getting dressed? It’s the middle of the night!”

Mokou’s face twisted up in confusion. “So? I don’t know how long this’ll take. No time to lose!” She pulled out a weatherworn leather bag and slipped it over her shoulder.

“That doesn’t mean you need to leave right now! Wouldn’t it make sense for you to wait until morning, when you’re fully rested.

“I am,” Mokou said. “Satoko, trust me, I’m fine. And the quicker I do this, the better.”

Satoko was about to argue further, but then thought better of it. “Okay,” she said. “Good luck. And thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Oh, uh, while I’m gone, you’ll have to handle the cooking. So-”

“Mokou, we used to cook for ourselves before you came, remember?” Satoko said. “We’ll be fine.”

Mokou thought for a moment. Then she nodded. “Yeah, okay. Good point. Still, don’t drop your guard. If something seems even a little bit wrong, get everyone inside and hide, and only call for help from people you absolutely know you can trust.”

Satoko swallowed. “All right. But please, hurry back as soon as you can. And don’t bring anything worse with you.”

…

The next day…

Joshua lifted his hand, hesitated for half a second, and then rapped his knuckles against Haruhi’s door.

“Haruhi?” he called through the door. “It’s Joshua.”

There was no answer.

Swallowing, Joshua pressed on. “Um, I just wanted to check up on you to see how you were doing. You know, we haven’t seen much of you for the last couple of days, and, uh, I just wanted to see if you were all right.”

Still no answer.

“Well, uh, I know I said this already, but I-I know you must still be hurting over what happened. And, uh, I just wanted you to know th-that it’s perfectly okay to feel like that, and that that should never have happened. But, you know, you don’t have to face it alone. We’re here for you.”

And there still was no answer.

Joshua took a deep breath and said, “Well, uh, Haruna, Shion, and I were going to have an evening tea on the front porch, and you’re more than welcome to join us. If you want to, I mean. But if you’d rather be by yourself for a while longer, then that’s fine too. Just thought I’d mention it.”

He stood next to the shut and locked door for a moment longer, frantically searching his brain for anything else he could say that wouldn’t accidentally come off as obnoxious. When he couldn’t find anything, he said, “Well, uh, even if you don’t want to come out, just know that we’re thinking about you, and that we care about you. And…that’s all I wanted to say, I guess.”

He left the door and headed toward the stairs, his mind spinning with so many swirling thoughts and emotions.

He didn’t know what to do. He had been with the Children’s Home for nearly a decade and had gotten quite good at comforting and consoling the kids through the various struggles and hardships that faced them, but this was completely outside his wheelhouse. Even back when he had done work with his old church back in Philadelphia, when he spoken to all sorts of lost and hurting souls, he had never encountered something like a bright young woman who had grown up without a family and just wanted to help out those who were like her suddenly have her entire society turn on and physically assault her on the basis of a powerful lie. Joshua wanted to help her; of course he did! But he didn’t know if it was better to keep trying to get her to open up or to give Haruhi her space. He didn’t know if either path would help or make things worse. And given his connections to the man responsible and how that man was twisting the very faith that Joshua himself still held, he didn’t know if his help was even wanted.

Though he still had no idea if his God had any jurisdiction in Gensokyo at all, he still whispered a small prayer for Haruhi under his breath.

The two remaining caretakers, Haruna Ishii and Shion Takagi, were already sitting together on the front porch. Haruna, who was the eldest of the caretakers, having worked there before Satoko had even been born, was seated on the worn wooden bench that was next to the door, while Shion, a heavyset woman with short hair that had been yellow but was now shot through with strands of grey, was leaning up against one of the posts that supported the roof. Like Haruhi, she was also a former ward of the Children’s Home, though from a couple generations earlier, having lost her family to starvation during an especially long winter. As such, she and Satoko had practically grown up together, which was part of her reason for deciding to stay.

Joshua nodded to the two of them and carefully shut the heavy door behind him. “Good evening. Sorry to keep you two waiting.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shion said. “Is Haruhi coming?”

“No. She’s still, well…”

“You don’t have to say it,” Haruna said, her rough face twisting up in disgust. Some of the children referred to her as a pitbull behind her back, and while Joshua was quick to put a stop to any kind of disparaging nicknames, he had to admit that she strongly resembled one in that moment, mainly in how ready she looked to commit egregious acts of violence to protect someone she cared about. “Poor kid. Still can’t believe those animals did that to her, to them.”

“Has it ever been like this?” Joshua said. “I mean, I haven’t been here nearly as long as either one of you, but things were already getting tense when I showed up.”

“Not in the slightest,” Haruna said. “Everyone, from the Human Villages to those on the outskirts, always did everything they could to take care of this. This is new.”

“Well, at least we know the cause,” Shion said, shooting Joshua a sidelong look.

Joshua had been expecting that. Sighing, he pulled over a nearby wicker chair and sat down as well. “Let me guess: Skinner?”

“Josh, we don’t mean to suggest that you had anything to do with what’s going on…” Shion said.

“But you were friends with the guy,” Haruna continued. “And he’s using his religion to justify everything that he’s pulling, a religion you’re a part of. Now, we’ve never made an issue of it, and you usually keep your beliefs to yourself, but…”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Joshua said, perhaps a bit more shortly than he had wanted. He didn’t mean to get snappish, but even after all this time he often found himself struggling to rectify his faith with everything that went on in the world that had become his home. And with Skinner doing what he was doing, well, it was hard not to get defensive about it.

So he sighed and said, “Well, to answer the first question you no doubt have for me, yes: Skinner and I did used to be friends. Kind of.”

Haruna frowned. “Kind of?”

“We were part of the same church, and he’d show up to the Bible Study I hosted at my place. We’d talk privately at times, but we were never really close, at least not until we became trapped in Gensokyo.”

“Bible what?”

“Uh…it’s like a religious gathering at someone’s house to talk about…scripture. Sort of a group discussion than just listening to the pastor.”

This explanation got Joshua blank stares from the other two. He sighed. No matter how many times he tried to explain it, his Gensokyian friends had never really wrapped their heads around worshipping someone they couldn’t just go talk to in person. Honestly, sometimes he envied them in that.

Joshua quickly moved past that part. “Anyway, he always had…problems, things like anger issues and mood swings. I think he relied on his faith as a stabilizing force, and that gave him a very, um, black and white view of things. He, uh, never really had much use for nuance and…” Realizing that he was starting to go off on a tangent, Joshua returned to the point. “Um, anyway, he had made a pretty public scene after church one day. I can’t really remember what it was about, but I think he had blown up at someone over something their daughter was doing that wasn’t even that bad, and I had to step between them and get them separated.” He shook his head. “He was already on pretty thin ice with the rest of the congregation, so I thought that I’d better try to talk some sense into him. I got him out of the building, offered to take him to lunch to try one last time to get through to him, but when the bus we were taking went through a tunnel…” He shrugged. “Well, it came out into Gensokyo.”

“A…A bus?” Haruna said.

Joshua dismissively waved his hand. “It’s, uh, a kind of public transport. A vehicle.”

“Oh, those weird metal machines you told us about, like what the Kappa screw around with.”

“Exactly. Anyway, to make a long story short, we did become, um, actual friends after that. I mean, we were literally the only people either of us even knew. Even the other people on the bus were strangers until then.” He shrugged. “Anyway, he…never really took very well to this country. Every fairy had to be a demon in disguise…and by that I mean a different kind of demon then what lives in Makai…every spell a sign of evil influence. His mood swings just kept getting worse and worse. I kept trying to get him to calm down, to try to see things differently, but he just refused. And when I told him that I felt like the Lord was telling me to go spend the rest of my life helping out here, well, he took it…badly.”

Badly was an understatement. In fact, Joshua had been convinced that Skinner was going to attack him then and there. His reaction and the things he had said to Joshua had gone a long way to making Joshua no longer think of him as a friend. And ever since they had parted ways, Skinner just seemed to get more unhinged. On occasion they would see each other, and Joshua always made an effort to be polite, but while Skinner no longer ranted and raved at him, he just got weirder with every meeting.

“Anyway, I haven’t really kept in contact with him since then. And as you can see, he’s…gotten really, really bad.”

There was a pause, and then Shion sighed and said, “Look, Josh. You can’t blame yourself for how he turned out. I mean, I was thinking it was something to do with your religion, but now you’re saying he was always kind of like this, so that’s on him.”

“I know,” Joshua said. “But I just keep thinking: maybe I should have stayed with him. Maybe if I had been there for him, he wouldn’t have gone off the deep end like he did.”

“You’re not his minder, you know.”

“Minder. Right. ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’” Joshua murmured, mostly to himself. Though to be fair, it wasn’t as if he had ambushed Skinner and beat him to death in a field. “Maybe I should have tried harder to get him to go with me. At least I would’ve been able to keep an eye on him.”

Haruna wrinkled her nose. “Hell no. You’re fine, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to put up with him all the time.”

“Fair enough. But that still leaves the question of…”

Then the door handle turned, and Joshua stopped talking.

The heavy door creaked open, and Haruhi peeked out.

“Um, I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly. “I’m not, er, interrupting anything, am I?”

“Not at all,” Shion said as she stood. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Haruhi stepped outside and gently closed the door behind her. “Well, no. No, I’m not. But…” He face scrunched up, and her already wet eyes moistened further. “I don’t really…want to be alone right now, so…”

Joshua got up and pulled another one of the chair around. “Well, you are of course more than welcome.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Thank you.”

The question of Skinner remained unmentioned for the rest of the evening, though it weighed heavily on Joshua’s mind. He just hoped that whoever Mokou had gone to find, they would have the answers she sought.

…

At that moment…

Though her life in the Children’s Home meant that she had neglected many of the skills she had built up in her long life, Mokou was pleased to find that they had not deserted her through lack of use, specifically the ones related to the tracking, locating, and stalking of another person through a dark and dangerous wood.

She was in the Forest of Magic, which had never been a regular destination of hers, though she knew it well enough, if anyone could be said to “know” the Forest of Magic, following a certain someone as they made their way through the woods’ twisted and often nearly invisible paths. Everything was coming back to her, and quickly: from the noting of small evidences of her quarry’s passage to noticing minute changes in the air, from stealing along silent and catlike through the gnarled web of interwoven branches to taking note of any sign of other hunters in the area that might be stalking her in turn. Her ears caught every sound and immediately knew what made it, which direction it came from, and how far away it was. Her nose sifted through the stifling scent of rot and decay that permeated every square meter of the forest to filter out trace elements of Human sweat and skin particles.

All of her senses told her the same thing: that her quarry was close, and she hadn’t noticed Mokou stalking her yet.

Despite the importance of her hunt, Mokou found herself grinning to herself in the dark. She had missed this, she really had. Granted, what followed after was usually violent and painful, but this part was always fun. Not fun enough to return to her old life, but it was nice to stretch those unused muscles of hers.

She slunk along, as silent as a whisper and as sure as an arrow, her weight evenly distributed as her long and nimble fingers felt for the strongest branches. Up ahead, she could hear the sound of leaves crunching beneath bare feet. Her quarry was going on foot then, probably on a hunt of her own.

And there she was. Mokou spied her crouching in the middle of a junction, where four winding paths met. It was a woman with dark hair tied into two pigtails and a squarish face. She was just below medium height, a little on the plump side, and dressed in a worn red and white outfit. In one hand she was holding a stick tied with several white ribbons, while the other was rubbing her chin in contemplation.

Also, her back was to Mokou, and she had not given any indication of knowing that she was being watching.

Her grin growing, Mokou levitated down from the tree and slowly drifted over the mess of long-dead leaves and fungi that coated the forest floor. She came closer and closer to the woman, hands held to her sides, fingers open and ready.

Then, when she got about half a meter away, the woman sighed and said, “No.”

Mokou froze. Then her shoulders slumped and she let herself drop down onto her feet. “Okay, how long did you know I was there?” she demanded.

“Since you dropped out of the tree.” The woman rose and turned to face her. “Would’ve blasted you to bit right then and there if I didn’t recognize you a second later.” She looked Mokou up and down. “Well, well, Fujiwara no Mokou. Haven’t heard from you in a hot minute.”

“Really? It’s only been like seven years.”

Miko Hakurei sighed. “Yeah, you would find that short. What do you want? I’m busy.”

“So I see. What’s up? Mima up to her old tricks?”

Miko shook her head. “No, not for almost a decade now. But something’s apparently been raiding farms near the border, so I figured I’d better step in to knock some sense into them.”

Miko Hakurei was the latest in the Hakurei family line, whose roots went all the way back to the founding of Gensokyo. They were the designated protectors of the country, or at least the mortal part, and lived and watched over the Hakurei Shrine, which was said to contain the only consistent gateway between Gensokyo and the Outside World. If something dark and dangerous were to rise in the Wilds to threaten humanity, then the Hakurei shrine maidens put a stop to it. If something weird was going on that was likely to endanger the country, then they figured out what was up, and then they put a stop to it. If some dastardly villain enacted some mad scheme for one reason or another, then they would have to account for the current Hakurei shrine maiden in their plans, lest she show up and put a stop to things. Miko herself had saved the country from no fewer than four cataclysmic disasters and a slew of minor incidents.

Though to be truthful, most of their time tended to be spent dealing with common youkai mischief and acting as more of pest control when fairies overstepped their bounds. Plus, it tended to be kind of a thankless jobs, with Humans never really appreciating all that they did to protect them and neglecting to give them any kind of thanks. Mokou herself hadn’t much cared for them for quite a while, mostly because they were actually descended from the Sonozikas, with whom she had a very bad history. But then she learned that their ancestor, one Hakurei Sonozika, was actually something of an exile to her family and wasn’t spoken of in the family histories, she came to appreciate them more. Plus, she liked Miko, who was one of the tougher specimens to wear the red-and-white. The two had even worked together to resolve a handful of incidents in the past.

“Well, as it so happens I’m also looking up trouble coming from an ugly old forest,” Mokou said. “Specifically, the Youkai Forest.”

Miko frowned. “Why? I heard you went straight, working for the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home of all things.” She shook her head. “I thought Yukari was fucking with me when she told me. Never would have thought that you would trade in all that murder for cooking for kids. I mean, I’m not complaining. Means fewer messes to clean up in the Bamboo Forest, but it’s still unexpected.”

“Yeah, I am. Needed a lifestyle change, and that one worked out. And about two days ago, nearly the whole of the farmer’s market almost beat those kids to death.”

There was a pause, and then Miko said in a low and dangerous tone, “What?”

Miko was usually up to date with the various goings and comings of youkai, fairies, and other supernatural creatures, but tended to be behind the times when it came to her own species. So Mokou filled her in on the brawl in the market, what had led up to it, and her suspicions about Nathaniel Skinner and his rising influence in the Human Village.

“Well now, that is some fucked up shit,” Miko groused. “Attacking kids of all things, and orphans at that.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Mokou said. “I mean, my soul’s plenty stained, but even at my worst I would never had even been tempted to do something like that.”

“Yeah, the fact that we still have Sonozikas running things is proof of that.”

“You too? Gods, Tewi Inaba was giving me shit about that same thing the other day.”

“I don’t doubt it. What’s that have to do with me though? They like me even less than you, and sure as hell won’t listen to anything I tell them. And I know about that Skinner prick of course, but I haven’t really been keeping tabs on him. The Human Village is kind of outside my jurisdiction, you know?”

“You do?” Mokou frowned. “What have you heard about him?”

Miko shrugged. “Probably what you already know. He was part of a group of Outsiders that got caught a few years back. Last I heard, most of them settled down in the Human Village and he went and started the first Christian church in Gensokyo. Thought that would flame out in a couple months, but he’s kept it going somehow.”

That much Mokou knew already, but while she had many questions about that whole business, Skinner wasn’t the reason she had hunted Miko down. After all, Miko was often kind of behind the times on Human business.

“Okay, but it’s not really him I need to ask you about. See, Tewi told me that there’s some weird shit going down in the Youkai Forest, and that it might be related to whatever’s going on in the Human Village. You hear anything about that?”

Miko sighed. “I should’ve guessed.”

Mokou’s ears pricked up at that. “So you have heard something?”

“Of course I have! Hell, I spent most of last week rooting through that damn forest trying to root out the source!”

“Source of what? What’s going on?”

“Wish I could tell you,” Miko said. “I knocked some heads together but found zilch. But I heard pretty much the same thing you did, that something’s stirring up the youkai there for whatever reason.” She shrugged. “Well, things were weird and creepy, but they’re always weird and creepy.”

Damn it. “And you couldn’t find any connection to the Human Village?”

“That’s the first I’ve heard of any connection to that. Now you’ve given me something else to worry about.”

“Sorry.”

Miko rubbed her chin as she thought. “You know, come to think of it, there was something…”

“Yes?”

“Understand, this isn’t anything recent, but I seem to recall some buzz from…oh, I’m going to say about fourteen or so years ago. It had to be a few years after Skinner and his friends showed up. From what I recall, they didn’t really make any trouble right after they popped up in Gensokyo, or at least no more than most Outsiders that get stuck here. But anyway, as I recall, he was part of a group of idiots that went into the Youkai Forest for whatever reason, and I had to be the ones to pull them out again, or at least the ones that were still alive.”

Well now, that sounded like a solid lead! “What happened?” Mokou asked. “What do you remember?”

Miko spread her hands. “Look, it was a long time ago…or at least a long time for me, and it was a fairly routine rescue, so I don’t remember much other than like two of them got eaten and a third just straight up vanished. I chased off the youkai that were attacking them, let them have an earful about being stupid, and led them back.”

“And Skinner?”

“He was…” Miko’s brow furrowed as she struggled to recall. “I didn’t actually find him. He had gotten separated from the rest of the group and wasn’t with them when I found them. Everyone had already written him off as one of the casualties, but right as we were leaving the forest, he suddenly came staggering out of nowhere. Almost took his head off out of reflex.”

“Kind of wish you had.”

“Well, hindsight’s a bitch,” Miko said. “Anyway, he was…kind of out of it. Delirious. Ranting about…oh, I don’t remember. Something about eyes and hands. I figured he had gotten his brain boiled by some evil spirit and just handed him off to the Human Village to deal with and forgot about the whole thing until now.”

Mokou was pleased. That was more solid a lead than she had been expecting to get. “Well, that sounds like a good place to start. Thanks, Miko.”

“Don’t mention it. And hey, if you uncover anything that should be my business, let me know.”

“You’ll be the first.” Mokou nodded at the shrine maiden and turned to go.

Before she left, Miko called out, “Oh, and Mokou?”

Mokou paused. Then she looked over her shoulder back at Miko.

“Look, I don’t know how genuine your little change of heart is, but I do know the sort of things that tend to happen around you,” Miko said. “So let me say this plain: it had better be real and stay real. For those kids’ sakes.”

There was no mistaking the warning in her voice and eyes. And if she had been nearly anyone else, Mokou might have been tempted to laugh in her face. In appearance, Miko seemed to be just edging into her early thirties, but the Hakureis didn’t show their age like most Humans, so she was quite a bit older than that. However, while Mokou seemed to be in her late teens or early twenties, she was the other woman’s elder by a significant amount, and outclassed her in power and ability by a ludicrous percentage. What, exactly, was Miko going to do about anything?

She didn’t laugh though, in part because of the genuine respect she had for the other woman, and in part because Miko’s concerns mirrored her own. That was the main motivation for her little fact-finding mission, after all. To keep that kind of violence from finding its way to their doorstep.

Mokou took a deep breath and said, “Miko, believe me: if that kind of shit starts happening to them, then I sure as hell won’t be the cause. Or at least, it won’t be me that started it.” Then she thought for a moment and added, “Though, hey, you know how you said that this sort of bullshit is outside of your jurisdiction?”

“What of it?”

“If something inside the Youkai Forest is involved, then it just might be your business after all. And even if it isn’t, maybe you ought to look into it before it becomes your business.”

Miko thought on that. Then she nodded. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good. Hope we don’t have to hear from each other for a long time.” With that, Mokou vanished back into the shadows of the Forest of Magic, leaving the aging shrine maiden to her business.

…

The day after that…

“We should do something about this.”

Rumia, who was just about to put the small, sharp blade of the knife she was holding to the bark of a stick, paused at that. She glanced over to Kohta, who was supposed to be tying the sticks she had debarked together, but was instead spinning them between his fingers as he sat and sulked.

“I mean, it only makes sense, right?” Kohta continued. “There’s so many of them, and only a few of us, and only Miss Mokou actually knows how to fight. And she can’t be everywhere at once. So we should be learning how to fight!”

Rumia sighed and slid her knife down, peeling off a long strip of bark. “Yeah, brilliant plan. Except for the part that all those assholes probably know how to fight too, so what good would that do? Also, get to work. I’m not skinning these things just so you can fidget with them.”

Kohta did so, carefully binding the sticks together with white thread from a spool. “It’s better than sitting around doing nothing! They’re come for us sooner or later, so we need to be ready!”

Keine, who was working on sheets of paper with a pair of scissors, looked stricken. “You really think that’ll happen?” she said. “I mean, not just kick us out and not let us come back, but actually come here after us?”

The three of them were in the orphanage’s big, yellow-painted playroom, working together on their little model circus, like they usually did when they had some downtime. Since they had been unable to purchase a genuine model elephant like they had planned, they instead were working to make one from their usual materials. Unfortunately, since elephants were weirdly shaped with their big, floppy noses and sheet-like ears, the end result wasn’t shaping out as well as they would have hoped, but they were making do.

Well, at least we still have our money, Rumia thought to herself. Then she scowl. For all the good that’ll do us. We can’t even spend it anymore!

“Of course they will!” Kohta hissed at Keine. “Just watch! Sooner or later that asshole in the brown hat is gonna convince all those village idiots that we’re secretly demons scheming to steal their kids or something stupid like that!”

“Like we’d want any of those little sneaks living with us,” Rumia said.

“They probably think we’ll drink their blood or something.”

Rumia gagged. “Ew. Why?”

“Because they’re idiots!”

Then the door to the playroom opened, and the three of them shut up immediately.

It was Melissa and Kana. The two of them walked in and noticed Rumia, Kohta, and Keine huddled together, treating Rumia’s palm.

“Oh,” Melissa said. “What, uh, ha-a-happen?”

Rumia sighed. She held up the knife. “I cut myself, okay?”

“That’s odd,” Kana remarked. “Was it in service for one of your plans, or perhaps to acquire blood needed for some kind of magic ritual?”

Rumia stared at her. “No, it was an accident. I was shaving a stick and the knife slipped.”

Melissa stared blankly at them. Realizing that she probably hadn’t caught most of the explanation, Rumia sighed and held up her half-shaved stick, the knife, and mimed what had happened.

“Oh,” Melissa said. “Ouch.”

“Ah, that is disappointing,” Kana said.

“What, that I didn’t cut myself deeper?” Rumia said grumpily.

“No. But blood rituals are said to be quite potent. If you were to conjure one for our protection, then we needn’t worry about being punched by strange, angry people. Speaking of which, may I borrow your knife?”

“I….what?” Kohta sputtered. “Okay, first of all…actually, I don’t know which part of that to react to first.”

“Um, Kana?” Keine said. “You do know we already have a bunch of protective charms and spells set up.”

“Well, yes, but everyone knows that those are fake.”

“Huh?”

“Charms and spells,” Kana repeated. “Paper fairies use them as nests, and they sell them to silly Humans to make others put their nests up for them!”

Rumia, Keine, and Kohta looked at each other. Then, as one, they looked toward Melissa, silently requesting an explanation.

It was up in the air how much of that exchange Melissa actually understood, but apparently she had understood enough, as she merely shrugged. “I do not know,” she said. “I do not know enough about these magics to say.”

“Well, it’s true,” Kana said.

“Right,” Rumia said. “Er, okay, leaving all of that aside, let’s talk about the disturbing part: why do you need my knife again?”

“For a blood ritual,” Kana said promptly.

“Okay…” Rumia said after a beat. “And…what kind of blood ritual?”

“To get this to work.” Kana reached into her collar to withdraw the loops of some kind of necklace that had been hanging around her neck.

When Rumia saw the pendant on the end of the necklace, Rumia yelped. “Where the hell did you get that?!”

It was the necklace that the creepy lady had been trying to sell them at the market, its golden crystal still shining within its setting of silver loops.

“From the market,” Kana said. “You remember, you were there, weren’t you?”

“No, yeah, I was, but I mean, how did you get it?”

“Oh, the merchant dropped it by accident when Miss Mokou scared her,” Kana said in a conversational tone as she slipped the necklace back under her blouse. “I tried to find her again to give it back, but it seems she had already left. And then Miss Mokou yelled at me to keep up, so I just kept it.”

Kept it. Right. Just about every kid in the orphanage had been turned away from every single merchant’s stall, and Kana had lucked her way into something that was probably worth far more than all of their collected money put together. Rumia did not buy for one minute all that talk about immortality or ensouled poltergeists, but it did seem to be made from real silver, with a genuine glowy crystal set in its pendant.

“At any rate, I figured that I might as well see if I can activate its enchantment,” Kana continued. “If we are indeed attacked again, then someone might be killed, so it would be useful if we could all come back as poltergeists. Then nobody would be able to hurt us on account of us not having solid bodies anymore!”

Weird and morbid. “So you stole a necklace,” Kohta said. “That some weirdo that was probably just trying to kidnap us said will let you come back as a ghost, and you’re going to try to make it work even though you don’t know how because you think those jackoffs that jumped us might kill us.”

Kana contemplated on that. Then she said, “I think that’s fairly accurate. May I borrow your knife?”

“Uh, no,” Rumia said flatly. If Kana was going to make herself bleed out all over the playroom, then Rumia wasn’t going to be a part of it. “Melissa, are you really letting her go through with this?”

Melissa looked surprised. “Should I not? I thought…magic was true here.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean every stupid spell made up by some random old lady is real. It was probably just a scam!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Kana said.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Rumia groused. “Look, if you’re going to cut yourself apart, could you like do it somewhere else? If you don’t accidentally slit your own throat, then you’ll probably burn the place down.”

“All right,” Kana said. “Have a nice day! I like your little city, by the way. Is that supposed to be a mass execution?”

Rumia, Kohta, and Keine all stared at her, and then at each other. Then they looked down at their makeshift circus. No matter how Rumia looked it at, she couldn’t understand how Kana got “mass execution” from the arrangement.

“No,” Rumia said at last. “It’s not.”

“Oh. Well, it kind of looks like one. Bye!”

She left the room, with an increasingly dubious and worried Melissa following. When they were gone, Rumia breathed out and said, “Okay. It’s not just me, right? She is definitely getting weirder.”

“Maybe we’d better tell the grown-ups,” Keine said. “I mean, what if she hurts herself?”

“She already said that she’s planning on cutting herself,” Kohta said. “Getting hurt on purpose is kind of a given now.”

“You know what I mean!”

“At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tied up Melissa and sacrificed her,” Rumia said.

The three of them chewed on that mental image for a few moments. Then Kohta said, “Yeah, we’d better tell someone.”

Rumia scowled. “What good would it do? Most grown-ups are stupid and useless.”

“Oh, come on!” Keine protested. “Not all of them. Not ours.”

“I…well, they’re okay, I guess. But they still don’t notice most things.”

“Miss Mokou does. Miss Mokou notices everything!”

Rumia threw her hands into the air. “And she’s gone! She’s off to find out why things are so weird, and we have no idea how long that’ll take! For all we know she’s lost in a forest somewhere, or beaten half to death like she was when we found her in the snow!”

…

The two outcasts sat together atop a tall cliff, drinking together as they watched the Sun set over Gensokyo.

In appearance, they couldn’t look more different, aside from both being female. Mokou still looked more-or-less like the young Human woman she had once been: tall, slender, and well-muscled, with a sharp face and long violet hair so pale that it was often mistaken for silver, and she was dressed in the cast-off clothes of some farmer that had donated them to the orphanage years ago, mainly a plain white shirt and a red pair of suspenders. She didn’t even wear shoes.

In contrast, her old…friend (acquaintance? Contact? Occasional opponent? Someone she tended to run into every so often?) was very short, petite, had auburn hair tied into tails, and had two large horns curving out from either side of her head. She wore an extravagant outfit consisting of a sleeveless white blouse, a wide purple skirt, a red ribbon around her neck, black shoes with red bows, and had shackles clasped to her wrists and ankles, each one trailing a broken chain. The chains weren’t intended to imply an escape from captivity, they were simply a common part of her people, the oni.

Still, there was a sort of kinship between the two of them, one that came from spending so many years wandering Gensoyko with no real home, no real family, not even the company of their own species to fall back on. They were exiles, and had been for similarly long times. Granted, the circumstances between their respective exilings had been different, but there was only so many times one could run into the same person out in the wilderness before some kind of rapport was formed.

Also, Suika Ibuki was very, very drunk, which made her great fun to be around. But what else was new?

“The Youkai Foreeeeest,” Suika said, her voice rising and falling on odd syllables like it always did. She nodded solemnly, and took a long swig from the purple gourd of sake that she always carried around with her. “Oh yeah. There’s always something going on in the Youkai Forest.”

“I know,” Mokou said, taking a sip from one of the many glass bottles she had brought with her. Most of them were green, bearing labels that declared them to be from a Tengu winery. However, one was jet-black and had no label. “That’s why I found you. To ask you about-”

“Not as bad as the Forest of Magic though,” Suika continued on. She swung her legs back and forth over the cliff and started swaying back in forth in time to some melody only she could hear. “Weirder stuff happens in the Forest of Magic. Super weird shit, almost always bad except when it’s funny!”

“Well, I was just there, and nothing out of the ordinary level of weird was going on. I’m interested in-”

“Or the Bamboo Forest of the Lost!” Suika thrust her gourd out as if raising a toast. “Also very, very bad! I think.”

At this, Mokou scowled. “Oh, come on! The Bamboo Forest isn’t that bad, just really confusing if you don’t know your way around.”

“You sure? They say that the deathless daughter of the Phoenix wanders there, forever searching for the one who disgraced her family. If you find her, she’ll ask you your name, and if you have the same name as-”

Mokou smacked the oni upside the back of her head. “Okay, knock it off! One, no she doesn’t, because she’s me, and I don’t live there anymore! And two, that only happened once, when I was drunk and in a bad mood, and they were okay after! Mostly. Anyway, I apologized and did what I could to fix them up, so I don’t see why everyone is still telling that stupid story.”

“Oh.” Tilting her head in confusion, Suika squinted at her through bleary eyes. “Are you?” Then she grinned. “Oh yeah, that’s riiiight. Okay, the Bamboo Forest of the Lost is perfectly safe. Except for the rabbits.”

Mokou’s bottle was now empty, so she hurled it into the valley below and used her thumb to pop the cork on the next. “Nah, the rabbits are a pain in the ass, but they’re all right, I guess. But anyway, I’m not talking about them, I’m talking about the Youkai Forest.”

“Right,” Suika nodded. “Right. Lots of bad juju there.”

“Okay, so is there any kind of new bad juju?”

Suika shrugged. “Oh, I dunno. I mean, it could be that bloody ghost that rose up not too long ago, seeking to suck the breath of children out through their noses.”

“That was a fairy prank and it happened seventy-four years ago,” Mokou told her.

“Oh.” Suika frowned as she attempted to concentrate. “Uh, the Army of Angry Bones?”

Mokou sighed. “Two hundred and whatever years ago. I’m talking within the last few years. Did anything happen within the last ten years or so?”

“Uh…where?”

“In the Youkai Forest,” Mokou said.

“The Youkai Forest?” Suika’s face scrunched up in bewilderment. “What about it?”

Mokou sighed again. That was the problem with trying get any kind of useful information out of Suika. She tended to go anywhere and everywhere and for whatever reason always seemed to hear every bit of news, rumor, gossip, and any other bit of important information. Unfortunately, as she often forgot where she was in the middle of most conversations, wringing that information back out of her was a nearly impossible task if you didn’t know how to do it.

Fortunately, years ago Mokou had stumbled across a trick that worked. It wasn’t sort of cruel, but if she tried to pry the information out the old-fashioned way, she was unlikely to ever get Suika to reach the point.

So, as Suika prattled on, Mokou reached for one of the bottles she had brought. The black bottle.

“I mean, sure, lots of things happen there,” Suika went on. “But if you want something weird, then haha, you’re gonna have to narrow it down a whole bunch, because there is so much weird in there that-”

“Hey, Suika!” Mokou said, cutting her off. She held out the bottle to the oni. “I brought some of my special spice sake along! Want some?”

“Oh, thanks!” Suika took the offered gift, snapped off the throat as easily as if it were a twig, and drained it in one go. “As I was saying-”

She stopped in mid-sentence, and her whole body went completely stiff. Her brown eyes suddenly went very, very wide, while her brown pupils turned red and narrowed down to a pair of tiny bright dots. A sound similar to a singing kettle sang from deep within her chest.

The contents of the bottle did actually contain wine, as Mokou had promised. But they also contained a special ingredient, one too hot even for an oni’s legendary tolerance for…just about anything, actually. A few drops of Mokou’s own blood. With that swimming through her, all of the other alcohol in Suika’s system was burned away and her brain strangely compliant to suggestion. For a few minutes, anyway.

“Youkai Forest,” Mokou pressed. “New kind of weird. Go.”

Suika’s head jerked once, and she started talking in a low, clipped tone with no inflection whatsoever, “While no new entities have been known to take up residence within the Youkai Forest, there have been whispers and rumors that some outsiders have been in contact with some of its more mercenary inhabitants. The identity of these outsiders are unknown, with some claiming that they are youkai from the mountains, youkai from the Underworld, youkai from the Forest of Magic, or even Humans.”

Bingo. “Humans?” Mokou said. “What Humans?”

Now red veins were spreading through the whites of Suika’s eyes, and actual steam was pouring out of her ears, nose and mouth, puffing up with every word. “Unknown. Their identity is nothing but pure speculation, and those who know of them are either sworn to secrecy or do not care enough to find out.”

Damn. “Okay, but what youkai, though? Which ones have been talking to these strangers?”

“The…” Suddenly Suika’s body started to shake violently. “Th-Th-The spi-pi-pi-pi-”

Suika fell flat onto her back, arms splayed to either side, bloodshot eyes staring unblinking up at the sky. Now her whole body was steaming.

Mokou waved a hand in front of Suika’s face. No reaction. Her brain had been completely cooked.

Sighing, Mokou stood up. Well, that wasn’t a lot information to go on, but it was a start. Now the thing to do would be to go into the Youkai Forest itself and see if she could find something with loose lips.

In the meantime, she ought to check back in with the orphanage like she had promised. Though she had no reason to believe that anything had happened while she had been gone, her skin was crawling. Something did feel…off, something more than what she knew already.

A few idiots spreading hate and fear probably wouldn’t send a mob after a bunch of kids in only a few days, but more terrible things had happened. And if there really was something organized going on between Humans and mercenary youkai, then it could be that they would take Mokou’s absence as an opportunity to do something. Either way, Mokou felt that she had been gone too long.

Leaving Suika’s smoking body where it lay and her own bottles as something of an apology for Suika to find, Mokou hopped off the cliff, fell several meters, and then swooped up into the air. She wasn’t worried about Suika. Within an hour or so, her oni constitution would filter out the drink, repair the damage, and she would wake up with a hell of a hangover that would be swallowed up before she knew it. In all likelihood she wouldn’t even remember talking to Mokou at all.

However, those kids weren’t nearly as durable as Mokou or Suika was. And if something was looking to do them harm, then she was going to be there to stop it.

…

“Okay, guys!” Mr. Joshua called out. “Everyone gather ‘round.”

For once he didn’t need to tell anyone twice. This was the one lesson that everyone had been anxiously anticipating, marking down the slow progression of days until it had finally arrived. Today those old enough were finally going to learn how to fly.

All told, there were about half of them there, with Noba and Tomohiro already having learned this a couple years ago while everyone else was still too young. Rumia, Kohta, and Keine, of course, as well as Kana, Melissa, and Shinji. And unfortunately, Haruko, Eiko, and Hayate, because nothing good ever happened without some kind of downside.

“All right, now I know you all are hoping to be swooping through the clouds right away-” Mr. Joshua began.

Melissa’s hand shot up and she said something in Spanish.

“Melissa, remember. Try to speak so everyone else can understand you,” Mr. Joshua chided.

Melissa frowned. “You are…sure that mine can fly with others?” she said slowly.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rumia saw Eiko mockingly miming Melissa’s attempts to speak Japanese. Rumia scowled and stealthily reached into her pocket and extracted a rubber band and a slip of paper.

“Of course,” Mr. Joshua said. “After all, I wasn’t born in Gensokyo either.” Holding his hands to his side with his palms down, he lifted off the ground about a meter, hovered in place for a few seconds, and then lowered himself down again. “Every person that comes to live in Gensokyo, whether they are born here or come from the outside, are granted the same gifts and abilities.”

“Except for not being ugly,” Hayate whispered just loud enough for those standing right next to her to hear. Haruko and Eiko both giggled. Meanwhile, Rumia had twisted the piece of paper into a tiny tube and was working the rubber band around her fingers.

“Now, as I was saying, flying is, in itself, incredibly easy. But training your body and mind how to do it? Not quite so much. It’s a lot like learning how to walk. Once you’ve got it down you don’t even think about it, you just do it. But before then you need to learn how to keep your balance, how to make your legs strong enough to support you.”

“But what if…” Melissa’s face scrunched up. “Fall. What if I fall?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be taking this slowly. Today we’re just going to work on getting you off the ground. By the time you’re touching the sky, it’ll be as easy as breathing. Besides, I’ll be watching the whole time.” He clapped his hands. “All right, everyone! Time to practice those exercises we taught you! Groups of three now.”

Everyone walked off with their respective trio. Rumia was with Kohta and Keine of course, while Haruko, Hayate, and Eiko also stuck together. Shinji’s best friends already knew how to fly, so he went with Kana and Melissa, though judging by the look on his face he would have rather practiced with someone less…odd.

As they walked, Rumia spread the rubber band between her fingers, pressed the rolled-up piece of paper against it, took aim, and let it fly.

“Okay, let’s go over here,” she said as she stuck her hand into her pocket and turned her back to her target. A tiny yelp of surprise told her that her aim was true.

Keine frowned. “What are you smirking about?”

“Nothing! I’m just happy about flying! Why wouldn’t I be happy? Aren’t you happy?”

Keine glanced over to where Haruko was presumably still looking about for what had hit her. “Stop picking fights.”

To this, Rumia innocently whistled.

They took a spot in the grass, sat down cross-legged in a small circle, shut their eyes, and tried to thinking airy thoughts.

Nothing happened.

“Don’t be disappointed if you can’t do it at first,” Mr. Joshua had told them. “You have already daydreamed about flying countless times, so it can take a while for your spirit to discern the difference between that and the actual will to fly. Remember: don’t tell yourself to do it, but instead will yourself up.”

Well, that was easier said than done. Rumia tried imagining herself soaring through the clouds like one of the Tengu, rising up through the clouds on invisible wings. It was a nice daydream, but that was the sort of thing usually reserved for keeping herself amused during boring lessons. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get herself to stop feeling the grass prickling at her legs.

“Up,” Keine muttered under her breath. “Up. Up. Up. Up.”

Rumia sighed. Okay, concentrate. She wasn’t here, sitting in the itchy grass. She was standing on a big, bouncy mushroom. It was light and springy under her feet, and she could just feel it trembling, waiting to propel her into the sky.

All she had to do was jump up, and she would be rising, rising, rising, rising-

At her side, Kohta started to snore.

Rumia cranked her right eye open to glower at him. Then she reached over to swat him.

“What, what?” he said with a sudden jerk. Then he saw Rumia glaring at him.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he settled back down. “It’s just…it’s really warm, and…” The rest of his explanation was swallowed up by a cavernous yawn.

Rumia yawned as well. Well, he wasn’t wrong. It was a pretty sleepy day. Under any other circumstances she would be tempted to just stretch out and let herself drift off. But she couldn’t. She was here to learn how to fly, and by the gods, she was going to do it!

Settling back down, she tried a different tactic. She was drifting in the sky, lying flat on her back on a large, fluffy cloud, the Gensokyian landscape passing by beneath her. This was where she belonged. The sky was her home, and she was safe and warm, floating along as naturally as could be. She was meant to be in the air, where everything was…all floaty and…and dreamy…and…

Before Rumia could fully drift to sleep herself, something sharp struck her cheek.

“Wah!” she cried as she slapped a hand across where she had been hit.

“What? What is it?” Kohta said in surprise.

“Something…” Rumia looked around. “I thought something hit me!”

“Is everything okay?” Mr. Joshua called over to her. From the look of things, he had been helping Melissa, Kana, and Noba’s group.

Rumia blinked in confusion. She was sure that she had felt something.

“No, I’m fine!” she called back. “Just a bug, I guess.”

Sighing, she tried to get herself to relax again. Just as well that had happened, as she had been moments away from napping.

All right, where was she? No, not the cloud. If she kept that up much longer then she was going to snore her way through the whole lesson. Maybe something a little more exciting, like leaping off the highest peak of the Youkai Mountain, or-

Then the something hit her in the back of her neck.

“Ow!” She again smacked the point of impact, but found nothing. However, she know had a pretty good idea who was responsible.

Rumia turned fully around to look behind her. Sure enough, not far from where they were sitting, Haruko and her two minions were in a circle of their own. And judging by the way they were glancing at her and snickering, they had figured out who had shot that paper missile at them earlier, and now mastering the fine art of aviation was of less importance to them than returning fire.

“What’s wrong?” Keine whispered.

“Them,” Rumia hissed back.

Keine craned her neck to see. “Oh. Uh, should we move then?”

Rumia shook her head. Doing that was akin to admitting defeat.

“Want to trade places then?”

That idea actually made Rumia hesitate. Though she didn’t look it, Keine’s youkai blood gave her speed and reflexes far above that of a normal human. If they tried lobbing splinters at her, Keine could probably catch them even with her back turned. The look on their faces after something like that would be so delicious.

But…no. If there was one ironclad rule that they refused to violate, it was to never, ever give up the secret of Keine’s parentage. Bullying they could handle, and give back in return. Letting something like that drop risked having the entirety of the home come after Keine’s mixed blood.

“No,” Rumia growled. “We’ll just get them back-”

Something glanced off her shoulder. This time she didn’t turn in response, though her right eyelid had developed a slight twitch.

Suddenly some kind of uproar sounded from across the field. Both Shinji and Melissa had leapt to their feet and were retreating backward in surprise while Mr. Joshua laughed and clapped his hands in approval.

Kana of all people had somehow managed to pull flight off…and she hadn’t even noticed! She was now hovering about half a meter off ground, her legs still crossed beneath her, hands clasped tightly at her chest, her head bowed and her eyes squeezed shut.

“Wow,” Keine said. “She actually did it.”

Kohta sighed. “Of course she would be the one to figure it out. Of course it would be here.”

“Well, yeah, it only makes sense,” Rumia said. “Her head’s so filled with air that it’s a miracle she’s not floating everywhere already.”

“Well done!” Mr. Joshua said. “You see? You all have it within you. Okay, Kana. You can come down now.”

Kana didn’t appear to have heard him. She was starting to drift a little to the left as she continued to rise upward. And her body was beginning to tilt.

Mr. Joshua cleared his throat. “Ah, Kana?”

Now Kana was tilted fully horizontal, and she just kept turning.

“Kana.”

“Shhh!” Kana hissed, her eyes still closed. “I’m concentrating.”

“Yes, well, you’re also upside-down.”

“Huh?” Kana finally opened her eyes.

By then she had drifted enough so that she was above Mr. Joshua’s head, her inverted face staring at his scraggly beard where it fell across his barrel-shaped chest.

Kana stared stupefied at the unexpected sight for several seconds before saying, “Uh, Mr. Joshua? Why are you standing on your head?”

“Look down,” Mr. Joshua suggested.

Kana did so, though from her perspective she was actually looking up. When she saw the endless expanse of the sky spread out “beneath” her, her eyes went wide.

“Oh,” she said. “The world’s flipped. Why’s that?”

“No, Kana,” Mr. Joshua said patiently. “You’re flying.”

“I am?” Kana looked around. She finally seemed to notice how everything around her was upturned, as well as how far the ground was by now.

“Oh! I am!” A pleased smile spread across her inverted features. “Well, isn’t that nice?”

“It is indeed!” Mr. Joshua gently took her by the shoulders and moved her back around again. “Now, while you’re still in the air, why don’t you tell everyone what-”

Suddenly a shrill horn sounded from the house. Everyone froze in fear. They knew that sound from a hundred drills and the small handful of times it had been blown in earnest. It was a sound that screamed through each of their nightmares.

Dangerous youkai were coming.

“Everyone inside!” Miss Satoko called from the porch. “Joshua! Haruna! Bring them in!”

Rumia, Kohta, and Keine all scrambled to their feet. Lesson was over, and now it was time to flee. Nearby, Haruko and her gang were doing the same. Hostilities were suspended. Now the read danger was coming.

It was something they had practiced over and over again, something that had been embedded deep into their psyches whenever that horn sounded. Run for the house. Get underground and be quiet! Don’t try to fight, don’t look back to see. Just run.

And that was all very well and good, but as terrible fate would have it, one of their number was in no position to run, given that her feet were still off the ground.

As soon as the horn had sounded, Kana had been so startled that she had forgotten her training. Again. And normally, that wouldn’t be much of a problem. The grown-ups were well used to her…shortcomings, and one would always be sure to grab her by the hand and hastily take her to safety. And fortunately, Mr. Joshua was certainly close enough to do that.

Unfortunately, normally she wouldn’t be floating in the air.

She shot off like a bullet, instinctively moving away from the sudden sound instead of toward it. Rumia and her friends all threw themselves to the ground in order to avoid her, but only just. She whizzed past their heads and just kept going.

The other group of children weren’t so quick on the uptake.

Kana slammed right into them. If they had been lucky, the impact would have just taken the four of them off their feet and sent them tumbling into a heap for Mr. Joshua and Miss Mokou to collect.

But luck was a stranger to the orphans of the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home. It always had been.

Either Kana had built up a considerable amount of momentum or she was a lot heftier than she looked. Either way, only Eiko was sent sprawling to the ground. Haruko was lifted right off her feet and yanked into the air along with Kana. Seconds later the two of them slammed into Hayate, and all three shot into the air.

Rumia, Kohta, and Keine all watched in horror as the three of angled upward, soaring higher and higher toward the border fence. At some point, Kana had apparently stopped flying and was just propelled forward by momentum alone, as soon all three of them had started to tumble back to earth, their arms and legs flailing as Haruko and Hayate screamed in terror. Kana, it should be noted, had yet to make any sound at all.

When they hit the ground, they were far, far outside of the protection of the charms that had been set up along the perimeter fence.

What was more, there were dark figures starting to move across the hills.

Rumia knew that she ought to run. Even with the charms in place, it wouldn’t take much to an especially determined youkai to break through. But for some reason it was like she had forgotten how to move. Her legs felt like twin lumps of lead, and all she could do was stand and gawk as four…things ambled over the crest of the far off hills. Though she couldn’t make out their features, they seemed…sort of humanoid, with four limbs and a head apiece. But their arms and legs were much, much too long and much too thin. And they didn’t move like humans. Instead, they were crawling along on all fours like insects…no, like spiders, their grotesque arms and legs fully extended and bent in unnatural ways, with their jagged elbows pointed up and their knees bending in the wrong direction. Their heads bobbed along on skinny necks, their long, stringy hair seeming to hang down across their faces like veils.

Icy cold fear seeped through Rumia’s spine. Youkai. Wild youkai, and from the Youkai Forest from the look of it.

Humanity’s views of their more magically-inclined neighbors tended to be…diverse. Those in the Human Village were often hostile toward youkai, seeing them as dangerous animals at best. Oddly enough, those who lived further out and were in actual danger of youkai attacks had a more nuanced viewpoint. Even those who lived in the Aoki Yume Children’s Home, most of whom had actually lost their families to youkai attacks, knew that most youkai were people. Sure, they tended to be wilder at heart, but many of them were just mischievous and pretty harmless. Several were quite benevolent and were more than happy to get along with their Human neighbors.

But no amount of friendly interactions would change the fact that dangerous youkai did exist, the kind that preyed up man’s flesh and drank their blood. The lack of other Yagamis in Gensokyo was proof of that.

And it was clear at a glance what kind of youkai these were.

And they were heading straight for Kana, Haruko, and Hayate.

“No!” Eiko screamed. She bolted for the fence, cleared it in a single leaping hurdle, and ran to protect her friends.

Rumia, Kohta, and Keine didn’t hesitate for a second. Kana might be a weirdo and the other three might be insufferable assholes, but when everyone present was divided into an “Us” and a “Them,” it was clear where those four landed, and what those youkai were.

“Guys, get up!” Rumia screamed so loudly that her throat almost tore. “Go! Get out of here!” Kohta shouted at the youkai. Keine didn’t say anything at all. She merely ran so fast that she was almost to the stunned group by the time Rumia and Kohta reached the fence.

“No!” Rumia heard Mr. Joshua call from behind her. “Kids, don’t!”

Rumia didn’t listen. Their family was in danger.

The fence was fast approaching. She leapt up, fully intending to vault the whole wooden structure in one go.

Then a thick hand seized her by the back of the skirt and yanked her back.

Gasping in surprise, Rumia was sent rolling backward into the grass. She landed flat on her back, the fence now above her head. From her inverted position, she saw an upside-down Mr. Joshua leaping into the air and taking flight. “Get them inside!” he shouted to someone out of sight.

A moment later a different set of hands grabbed Rumia and pulled her up. Miss Haruna had pulled both her and Kohta off the ground and was dragging the two of them back.

Rumia snapped out of her daze. “Wait, no!” she said as she struggled against the stocky woman’s grip. “I have to help Keine! Let me go!”

She might as well have been struggling against a stone for all the good it did. Miss Haruna kept silent as she hauled the two of them back.

But while Miss Haruna could keep them from rushing to their sisters’ aid, she couldn’t stop them from seeing what was happening.

Keine had already reached the fallen group mere seconds after Eiko did, who was trying to haul everyone away by herself, with each of her arms wrapped around Haruko and Hayate’s dazed bodies while Kana’s collar was clutched in one hand. Keine didn’t hesitate, and grabbed onto everyone, Haruko and Kana in one hand, and Hayate and a very confused Eiko in the other, and started pulling them away all by herself. It was an impressive feat of strength, one that a girl her age and size had no business performing.

Unfortunately, she was merely half-youkai. And the spiders were the real deal.

Mr. Joshua was flying toward the other kids like panicked aerial tree stump. “Get back!” he hollered. Glowing green crisscrossing circles orbited by spinning green triangles appeared around his right hand. He hurled a ball of sputtering energy at the air above the spiders, who were getting dangerously close to the kids. It exploded like a firework and sent green sparks raining down upon up.

They flinched and hissed but didn’t stop. The lead spider reared his head back like a striking snake and spat something that looked like a gooey loogie the size of a dinner plate right into Mr. Joshua’s face.

Mr. Joshua was knocked back, hands clawing at the glob of spiderweb that now encased his face.

Two more spiders vomited up webs, this time ones that remained connected to their mouths via long and sticky strands. One enveloped up Kana and Eiko while the other took Haruko and Hayate.

Keine stumbled and fell. She started to rise up when the fourth spider webbed her up as well.

Rumia stopped fighting against Miss Haruna. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

The three webbed-up bundles kept kicking and thrashing, but it did none of them any good. The spiders swarmed over them, hands going to work covering every last bit of the kids, cocooning them like mummies.

Though his face was still covered with the white, sticky mess, Mr. Joshua was struggling to get to his feet. He managed to get onto his knees when one of the spiders looked up and spat another glob at him. This time it hit him in the stomach and knocked him flat again.

Now that the spiders had their prey fully bound up, they were leaving, retreating back the way they came with their bundles strapped to their backs like backpacks. They took to the air, flying off together.

“Keine!” Rumia screamed.

They were getting away.

“Keine!”

They had her friend.

“Keine, no!”

They had her sisters.

“Keine, please! Please, no!”

They were getting away.

“K-K-Keine…” Rumia sobbed as big, fat tears ran down her cheeks.

…

You know those projects that seem really short and easy to begin with, remain short and easy through most of the work, but then balloon up at the very end? This was one of them.

Until next time, everyone.

#the touhou project #touhou #rumia #keine #Fujiwara no Mokou #suika ibuki #imperfect metamorphosis #swiftly descending darkness #fanfic

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vanitysruin · 5 years

Text

12. Color and noise.

That they would become fast friends came as a surprise to exactly no one.

Even as children they were brilliant in their own ways, reckless and bold and hungry for new experiences upon which to sharpen their teeth. Were one feeling whimsical, one might have suggested that they were two birds of a feather, two halves of a selfsame soul.

This, of course, was absurd. He was himself, and she was herself, and that was simply that.

But it was another game with which they amused one another while they were young and younger things. When it came time to leave their childhoods behind, it became a matter of principle that they held onto such fancy: like a promise, absurd and pointless, treasured all the same. Hades, for all his bluster, grew into a man with an unbearably sentimental heart. And she…

And she…

Well. We all know what became of her.

---

“I’m not certain I understand what that’s meant to be is all.”

“Oh, of course you don’t! No imagination for anything that isn’t tall and rigid. Look, look: do you see its muzzle? How soft and round it is? Its back? Perfect for riding! It is a beast, a kindly sort of beast.”

“I can see it is a beast. But what is the point of it?” “What is the point of anything? Why do I even bother with you? Haven’t you got another pylon or pillar or something to shape? Something dull and static and--” “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m sorry.” Together they knelt and studied, held the concept of a concept of an animal aloft between their hands. Its body lolled, limp and useless, like a doll missing its stuffing. “Do… do you want a suggestion? Some constructive criticism?”

“Tell me.”

He looked at her, grinning impishly. “What do you think about antlers?”

---

“She hates me. She hates me, I’m sure of it.”

“Calm yourself. Calm…. There. She doesn’t hate you. Who put such an absurd thought into your head?”

She was quiet, miserable, sniffling. Her mask had been set aside on the bench they shared that she could rub her knuckles into her eyes. These outbursts of hers came more and more frequently as of late and it tore her apart. Hrathi was the very definition of collected, of serene, the very image of power and wisdom. Hrathi would never act in such a way. How could she ever measure up?

“What is it that’s really bothering you? Tell me. Please.”

Thin as a cane, she was, short and narrow, so much so that even the smallest of robes seemed one size too large for her. Her body shook with deep and heavy sobs, angry that her emotions would betray her in so bothersome a way. In public, no less, and in front of him of all people.

“Is it because of that goat thing? We can always revisit--” “It isn’t because of the goat!” she blurted. Fists balled tightly bounced off her lap, full of an energy she didn’t know how to deal with. He waited quietly as she, too, slowly felt her way around center again. Her sniffles became hushed and she didn’t gulp so much air.

She said, pitifully, “You’re going to leave me behind.” Her golden eyes, rimmed in red, couldn’t bring themselves to meet his. “You’re going to join the Convocation like everyone says you will and then what will I do? I haven’t the aptitude for--”

“You’ll just have to come with me,” he said.

“But I can’t--”

“You’ll come with me.”

“But--”

“Come with me.”

When she stared at him, wild-eyed, he said again, one more time, softer: “Come with me.”

She kissed him. It was embarrassing and stupid and thoughtless, and she recoiled immediately after to hiccup and sniffle some more. It was more than a little off-putting, too, to find she was beset by a new, fresh wave of tears. But she did not pull away when he scooted in closer beside her, and she did not pull away when his arm came to rest around her trembling shoulders.

“We shall go together,” he said, and she could find not a single reason in her soul to disbelieve him even the slightest.

---

Their stars rose together. Hades was quickly renown for his sharp wit and his incomparable understanding of symmetries and patterns. Once, rumor spoke that he might one day take Lahabrea’s seat, but to Lahabrea’s great relief, it was Emet-Selch for which he was chosen. His ascension was met with great applause and hope for there was no doubt he would go on to do great works for the sake of his beloved Amaurot.

Of her there was less to say. Or more, depending on how who was asked and how charitable they were feeling. From youth, she was stunted almost beyond belief. She was great Hrathi’s daughter, after all, and should have excelled if not exceeded her mother’s talent. Instead, she struggled at even the simplest things, and was often steeped in melancholy because of it.

Nevertheless, her star did rise, albeit at a slower pace than her cherished companion. It cannot be said that she achieved the impossible, for any who put their all, mind and soul, to a task will surely find a way. Thus she, too, was named to the Convocation, having become masterful in her own way and in her own right.

The principles of creation are multifaceted, as is the wisdom that lay behind them. Let it not be said that, while perhaps unconventional, her method were not sound. As any who favor the Hall of Rhetoric may remind you, it is through such differences in perspective that the whole of civilization is left better enlightened. Let there be no thought so outrageous and so anomalous that it cannot be adapted for the betterment of all.

---

In another world, she wavered. It poured into her unbidden, unrelenting, such visions of a life echoing her own. Where the strain of light clawed at her heart, the memories chilled her to the bone. She was Delial Grimsong, liberator of Ala Mhigo, and while her path had veered dramatically from where she had begun, not once did she ever question who she was.

Not once did she think there was so much more, hidden and locked behind the sweet chime of Hydaelyn’s benevolent voice.

Her head throbbed as if to burst, and for many blinded moments she could not tell if it was the light that was finally threatening to overtake her. Ryne made it sound as if strain would put her in danger. To say she felt under strain then would have been a gross understatement.

“It returns to you,” Emet-Selch said. No - she called him Hades, once upon a time. She hadn’t noticed him draw nearer, hovering ghost-like, hesitant before the volatile energies within her. In that shadowed place, perhaps he was all it took to hold it at bay, to allow her the luxury of though and breath and consciousness for what little time she had left. “The things denied you. Know, then, the truths you-- that She has long denied. I spoke no lies.”

Then, softer, colder, “But you knew this already. Always have we been much alike, hero. Until the very end.”

Delial need not see his eyes to feel the weight of his judgement once again. While they adventured across Norvandt (if one could say an entity such as he adventured), she came to appreciate his capricious disposition. It was vanity, she thought, that saw her own habits echoed in him. How very charming, she thought, that these mundane things as temper and mood could infect the eternal as well.

But one by one the Lightwardens fell, and bit by bit his words became more barbed. As he shared more and more of his heart, so too did it seem more and more that she had wronged him in some unfathomable way. His contempt was personal, a grudge he’d held on to for untold ages. And there she was again, failing whatever measure he’d set for her. He must have thought it inevitable. She’d been condemned long before he approached them, approached her, in the Crystarium.

And what is the point of this? Soon, I will end, and I will care no more.

Why, then, does he care? Soon, I will end, and his course will carry him onward, as it always has and forever will. With or without me.

It boiled in her blood. If she was condemned, then she would know, she would remember.

She would remember it all.

---

By the weight of her title, she had been afforded a lofty place high above the city. To tell the truth of it, it was ostentatious even for her tastes: the tiles, fine as they were, felt a little too cold beneath her feet no matter how much she willed it otherwise, and the ceilings towered far, far too tall for so runted an Amaurotine as she. It was a matter of tradition and ritual that she accept it, else she cause more gossip and offense than she already had. That it was left a mess, a hoard of little things kept in a perfect state of catastrophe, may as well have been Amaurot’s greatest secret: a silent, hidden rebellion curated by one of the Convocation no less.

She spent little enough time there, anyway, with Emet-Selch’s suite so near. For all the discomfort her own domicile offered her, his was far more offensive. The walls were a mess of sconces and he’d insisted on lighting even the most mundane of his chambers with multitudes chandeliers, no less than four, no more than eight: horrible and gaudy things that looked to her like little more than strange spiked crowns.

“Is that all you see?” His outrage was manufactured, mostly. She might have argued that it was better made than his horrible chandeliers. “You buffoon. You uncultured swine. This perfect concert of pattern and balance and symmetry, and all you can say of it is, ‘weird crown’?”

“Isn’t it though?”

“No! It absolutely is not! In fact, I would very much like to see you do better!”

“I’m sure I could.”

“Hm! Then prove it!”

The challenge was issued. It, among other things, had become as ritual between them, one of the many ways they’d constructed to help her refine and hone herself. Ever was she a woman empowered by pride and spite. It was clear that she had become too comfortable lounging on his insufferably modern sofa, besides, so it was only natural that she would opt to stand a bit instead.

“For all your talk of your accursed symmetry, you’ve forgotten about a little thing called ‘flair’.”

“Now you’re just being petty!” he cried, gawking at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “Me? Forgotten about flair? I think Elidibus would take offense to that. In fact, I’m certain his ears are burning right now and he knows exactly why, so offensive he would find it.”

“And you forget,” she countered, murmuring as she concentrated. Her hands came together and swayed apart in slow, gentle motions, spooling between her fingers threads of magic. “That dear Elidibus is a pianist in private, and a masterful one at that. I think he’d know a little something about flair.”

“Is he? How do you know that?”

“A little bird told me.”

“A little bird called…”

Her fingers bowed and she contracted them out and further out. Glistening pale and blue, a new creation began to take shape. “You can guess, if you wish. Or try to. I’ll not tell.” A maddening smirk turned her lips but she ignored her self-satisfaction for the moment. In her mind and in her hands, she dreamed of arcs and swooping lines, of something organic and living.

“Nabriales.”

“No.”

“Mitron.”

“Ha! No.”

“Ige-”

“No! Now quiet, please! I’m almost there.” Her hands flattened and she gave the construct one last pass over, making minute adjustments here and there, pinching out and pressing in a few final details. She stepped closer to him with this thing dimly glowing to where he slouched in a rigidly angled armchair, and then she picked a point and placed it high above his head. It was a little less than an arm’s length wide, a curve of blue light that rippled and glimmered throughout its thin membranous shape.

He stared at it, lip curled. “An… umbrella?”

“Ah,” she said. “There is an idea.” And then she blew on it, one final puff of magic. Beads of light washed over it and fell past the edges, pinched here and there like the points of a star, its energies cycled again and again and again to mimic perpetual rain that fell and splashed intangible around the man seated beneath it.

Hades scrutinized it the same way he scrutinized everything: his brow was knit, his eyes were sharp, and in so doing he presented himself as a man ever prepared for disappointment. It was not his fault his standards were so high. Certainly it grated on her, but she’d come to respect and appreciate his meticulousness. There was one else so worthy of his station, after all. None else through whom she herself could manage to shine among the rest.

“It isn’t terrible,” he said at last. He raised his palm to catch one such droplet, and when it splattered and burst, it left upon his skin a rapidly waning splash of light. “Doesn’t make for much of a light source does it?” This was true: it was pale in its luminescence, washing over his face with only the faintest hint of crystalline blue.

But…?

Even in private, Hades scarcely smiled. He could smirk and sneer with the best of them and, indeed, he seemed to take much delight in doing so especially when it meant agitating his compeers. A smile was something different entirely, drawn from a deeper place. She did not win one this time. It troubled her little enough. He loosened in his seat, leaned back and relaxed just enough. Deciphering the patterns in the light, she was certain, reading things from they fell around him, again and again and again. She was certain he understood.

“Would… you mind terribly if I kept it?”

“Such greed ill suits you, Emet-Selch, sir.”

“Borrowed it, then. Just for a while.”

She hummed and fussed as was appropriate, but it did not fool him. Nor was it her intent. It remained a victory, small as it was, and he could not deny her that either no matter how blasé he was about it.

“Just for a while. If only for you.”

---

It was to her great credit that she was able to hold her tongue and temper. She told herself as much until it became mantra, something to focus upon to distract her from all else. Breaking precedence had become her modus operandi. It was the source of much amusement among the rest of the Fourteen, she knew. So too did she know of the things they said of her prowess, how little they actually considered her opinion.

“Wait.”

It was selfish to think he would have come after her sooner. The conclave must have just ended for him to have rushed after her so. It would be unheard of to walk out, as she did. If there was to be a firebrand among them, then it was only natural that it fall upon her. Who else could she be but Amaurot’s greatest malcontent?

“Damn you, wait--”

“Tell me I am not alone in this,” she demanded, turning to him so abruptly he nearly loped straight into her. “Tell me ‘tis not I alone who doubts!”

“Quiet!” Emet-Selch’s mask mirrored well the rage upon his face. Its narrowed eyes only heightened his scowl. “Do you want to cause a panic? Never have I been so--”

“It is ego, can’t you see?” She shook in her anger, blind to the wary eyes that were beginning to draw upon them. Such outbursts were unseemly, such lack of control unheard of. “I will not deny he is masterful in all things, but to think himself a… a savior in asking so much--”

“How rich! Could it be that you think yourself worthy enough to doubt him?” It was his turn to cut her off, cut her down - his words, they were knives in her heart, so heatedly were they spoken. For as close as they were, they were no stranger to disagreement, but never before had the Conclave’s poisoned words come from his mouth. They stunned her into silence, and he did not hesitate to drive them through.

“That you, the weakest of us, would deign to mandate policy. That you, who cannot stand alone, would shame us all with this display.” More and more heads were turned their way, the quiet walks and errands of the citizenry distracted by the disruption. It could only weigh unfavorably upon her. “If you will not speak before the others, then tell me here: for what reason would you doubt Lahabrea’s plan?”

“He asks too much. He asks too much of us all.”

“That is your complaint? Don’t be so childish. We are the stewards of this star, lest you forget,” Emet-Selch snarled at her, “And it is our imperative and our burden to protect it at all cost!”

“There has to be another way. How can I put faith in conjecture when it remains just that? To demand so many, on a whim... I cannot stomach it, Hades. If we truly are the stewards we think we are, then it falls upon us to save as many as we possibly can, not line them up for slaughter.”

“Then find it.” He jabbed a finger, issuing his challenge. “You have been with us, have you not? You have been there while we exhausted every possibility, every potential path to salvation. It is agreed that this is the way, and we cannot risk it all because you cannot ‘stomach’ the situation. There is no time left. Something will be done, with or without your blessing. With or without you.”

“Then prove it.” Their audience was tense, a shallow sea of grey masks and cautious frowns. She could feel their disapproval, and she could hear their collective gasps and murmurs when she reached up and relieved herself of her crimson mask. Emet-Selch was stunned in turn, stupefied by insolence so brazen. “Prove to me you can protect this star. But do so without me. I will not have this upon my hands.”

She let it go. A face of serenity, neutral and oblivious to the doom growing in the heart of their world, tumbled free and shattered upon the street. It was only fitting: destruction was but another facet of creation and there were none among the Fourteen who understood its music as well as she.

Emet-Selch called her name. The alarm in his voice tore at her: a schemer was he, an architect in so very many ways that it seemed astonishing that she of all his peers would be the one to confound him. It must have been sentiment that kept him blind to her heart, that let him hope the mantle of sage did not fit her as terribly as everyone thought. He was a kind man in that regard. It would punish him again if he let it, and she knew with absolute certainty that it would.

He called to her. She hastened past the dim and vacant stares of pale masks and reached out with her thoughts and with her magic, lancing through the fabric of their star where its madness had not yet made its claim.

Hythlodaeus, shamed and denounced of her station, left the city behind that day and crossed the sea alone.

Upon the next day, that final day, Amaurot was no more.

---

The malaise passed through her centuries at a time, piling upon her already cracking shoulders the weight of ages beyond believing. They sprang to mind as vividly as the city Emet-Selch raised from its grave beneath the sea, every image and every word and ever touch etched upon an expanse of soul she did not know she had. Hungry and desperate as her mind was to recover and reclaim, she was yet troubled by the visions that tore through her for scarcely was there one that did not clash between what she knew and what she was remembering. The home in Amaurot was too large and the furniture in Ala Mhigo seemed too small, and all of it was just subtly wrong as if it had all been moved a few ilms to the left. The voices she'd known since birth murmured in strange new ways. The images of her family likewise became veiled by memory, masked behind gentle curves of white and gray though she yet knew the shapes of their faces beneath.

What then of Hydaelyn? What then of the Empire? It pained her, overwhelmed her, strained everything she was to filter through the flood. Long had she believed that years of her youth had been wiped from her, taken by Imperial influence, but to consider everything that was crashing over her now--

She cried out, clutching at her head. Impassive, impacable, Emet-Selch towered over her head. The weight of his stare crushed her further still: a stare she knew, a stare she'd known, a stare that had been her world when the world was whole. "Seven times rejoined," he intoned, "And yet you are still so..."

His voice stretched out through that grey eternity, threading through the memories that assailed her. Once, as a surprise, she'd made an attempt to bring some interest into freshly inhabited studio. The flowers, intended to bloom and sway along with the rise and fall of the sun, nearly burst through his parlor wall for how aggressively they ended up growing instead. He'd called her reckless, then, and stubbornly refused her efforts to mend and repair what damage had been done. A few of the flowers had survived the ordeal: delicately rising stems and bowed white bells sweetly scented. Later, she would find that they had been quarantined but cared for nevertheless in a small uncharacteristically modest pot kept in his study.

The pot was the very same one she used to keep in her bedroom. He’d taken it with him one night, insisting he was going to rescue the withered plant within. She kept forgetting to water it, and he kept forgetting to remind her. “How do you manage being such a mess?” he’d asked her that same night. It annoyed her a little, as he never seemed overly eager to complain when they were stumbling into the very mess he played at detesting. When she pressed him of it, he only pressed back, grinning in that fiendish way. “Well, I suppose it’s because you’re…”

An array of white-hot eyes stared down at her.

“I like to think it didn’t have to be this way. But you just couldn’t leave it be. And that Exarch,” he muttered, his tone darkening and with it, their surroundings. He paced around her on a floor she could not see, and as the agony loosened its grasp upon her spine and limbs, she fell upon hands and knees. There was no comfort to be found: the grey realm was quickly turning cold as frost, dark as night, unyielding as the magicked stone of old Amaurot. “Ahhh, when I get through him, when I figure out his little secrets… We could do much good with the tower, my compeers and I. To think I could be so surprised by an artifact of my own creation!”

He paused somewhere behind her, to the left, to scoff. “Well, mostly of my own creation. I suppose I ought to give credit to Allag. They were so fascinating, you know? Ever so keen, ever so imaginative. You would have liked them. But I guess they were before your time.”

Chastised again, another error in construction, When will you ever learn? Its fine, its fine, we will try again, but you really ought to pay attention. Cheeks burned. Standing still and grim as a tombstone, Hrathi watched on, unmoved. Again. Again. Again.

“A broken thing like you cannot possibly hope to bear that which we must. It is not memory alone you have lost, but your essence! Your magick! Your soul! Perhaps it is better this way, then: a faster demise, mostly whole in mind if not in spirit. It quickens and grows and soon you’ll shed this flesh of yours. Not even your friends can shield you from this.”

Hades rounded her around again, and squatted down before her as he did upon the Crown. She could not see his face anymore: only the hard points of narrowed, hateful eyes, scowl atop scowl.

“Have you any idea what became of our city when you left?”

Ruin and nothing but. There were survivors, far too few survivors, but they were all tainted by madness and terror, every last one. She had to give them something. They had to have something to believe in, or else--

“Have you any recollection,” he said to her, “Of what you did?”

Schedules and timetables were as worthless as inaction. Someday, life would fall back into balance. Someday, the poisons would recede from the earth. Someday, when there was no life left to take, He would return the world to the ones who ruined it.

Hythlodaeus?

She had to give them something. Through Her, maybe they could...

Partaking of their life energies, She rose, a mirror of the Dark One of from across the stagnant sea. He wanted too much, demanded too much, took too much of what remained of Her children. Her own soul, along with the souls of those who lived away from the hungering shadow, took flight upon the wings of mother Hydaelyn.

Oh, but She was beautiful. Oh, to behold such radiance, such warmth! Never again shall we want for Light. Never again shall we fear the Dark.

An icy hand clasped her chin and lifted her face, a single rough motion that sent her vision spinning again. He shook with rage, trembled with hatred, and the darkness that was his wrath was quickly overtaking the cold neutral grey plane of nowhere upon which she was captive.

“It was you.”

Hythlodaeus, what have you done?

“It was you.”

#ffxiv #shb spoilers #5.0 spoilers #these vain reflections #wol!delial #writing #i should probably tag this stuff up more if i want it to be seen huh

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