Tai-Kōtaikōgō, Fujiwara no Shōshi
///
As the Grand Empress Dowager, Shōshi is not required to be present to greet the arriving Sorcerers. In fact, it would be more expected that she would not be present. The position she holds is too esteemed to have her wait with the greeting party. Certainly not when it is merely Sorcerers being greeted.
Yet, she insisted that she be present because it is Sorcerers that are to be greeted. She has always been fascinated by Sorcerers, ever since she was a little girl and saw a travelling Sorcerer conjure a field of flowers.
That she lacks the aptitude of a Sorcerer is perhaps her greatest shame.
Still, her position granted her opportunity, and many were the men who sought to take advantage of the Chūgū, a term her father, Michinaga, invented to declare her Second Empress.
But men are fools, and lustful men are fools twice over. Whether they lusted for power or her body did not truly matter. All that mattered to her was what worth she could extract from them. She is her father's daughter after all.
All she ever wanted was to become educated in matters of Sorcery. It is the only matter that she and her father ever disagreed on. The sole rift in their relationship.
Alas, his disappointment could not stop her, and she used those who sought to take advantage of her until they had nothing left to give.
Then she would destroy them for daring to think that they could manipulate her, Fujiwara no Michinaga no Musume. The daughter of Fujiwara no Michinaga.
Over the years, as her father used her to secure his own political agendas, she used her own position to gain as much knowledge as she could. He may not have approved of her hobby, but he elected to ignore it as a manner of reward for playing her part in his rise to power. Though, some small, childish part of her does still like to believe that a portion of his reasoning was simply that she is his daughter. As if that would ever be enough by itself.
Regardless, she learnt. And as the years passed by and she went from Chūgū to Kōtaikōgō to Tai-Kōtaikōgō, her understanding only grew. Until eventually, she became better versed in matters of Sorcery than most Sorcerers ever will be.
Though admittedly they are not helped by how often they die young. Especially Jujutsu Sorcerers. Most of them die before they even turn twenty five.
But what is she to do with all of this knowledge yet no ability to make use of it? Without access to any Cursed Energy of her own, what could she do?
Naturally, she chose to educate. To pass the knowledge on. Not because she cared for the future generations, but because by doing so she could live vicariously though her students. She could see the results of her efforts by the progress of her students.
Thus came into her service, Akazome Emon, Izumi Shikibu and Fujiwara no Kaoruko, the latter of whom later became better known as Murasaki Shikibu. Three children, each with a respectable talent in Sorcery, though none so much as Murasaki.
And teach them she did, until her Ladies in Waiting stood among the most competent Sorcerers in the realm, and she knew that her efforts were not wasted. That she truly was a master of Sorcery, even without the ability to wield it.
Naturally, Murasaki went beyond the pale of her other two students, but that rambunctious brat had always been wilful. Yet, despite the fact that Murasaki was without a doubt the least loyal of her Ladies in Waiting, Shōshi cannot deny that the brat was also her favourite. Even without her absurd Technique, Murasaki was the perfect Sorcerer, and through her, Shōshi witnessed the future that she was denied by virtue of her birth.
Those are bittersweet memories.
Memories that she is pulled from when a speck in the distant sky starts to grow larger and larger. Closer and closer, until the impossible sight of a flying castle appears, pulled through the sky by giant birds.
Shōshi spares a surreptitious glance to the gathered crowd around her and finds some manner of amusement in the varying expressions on display.
On the side of the regular nobles and people of import, most wear expressions of poorly concealed shock, failing to understand how a castle might be pulled through the sky by birds.
On the other side is the likes of the Sorcerer clans. Ordinarily the big clans would have only sent representatives to greet the coming guests, but since she is present, doing so would be an insult to her. They would be claiming that they are above her to feel that attending an event in which she is present is beneath them.
Thus, the clan heads of the Taira, Minamoto, Kamo and Tachibana are all present, among other, more minor clans. Though, these days the Tachibana might as well be a minor clan. They're barely holding onto their position through regular politics, since their power as a Sorcerer clan has been on a serious decline.
All of these faces bear a severe expression, one that only grows more tense along with the atmosphere as the castle flies closer. This event is going to be a significant one, after all. An event that will irrevocably change the path of the future in a manner that is completely impossible to predict. There are just too many options, and she knows that all of the big clans, as well as simply anyone with any degree of power or ambition, is looking to this event with a great degree of scrutiny.
It's exciting.
"Shōshi-sama," the steady voice of her attendant, Akazome Emon, quietly whispers in her ear. "Your true feelings are showing."
Shōshi doesn't respond, but she does flick a fan open and lift it enough to cover her smile. She truly just can't help it. This will be a historical occasion. Never before has there been a Sorcerous event of such magnitude before.
Her eyes find the few Onmyōji students present, ready to receive their peers.
There are so many talents today. This truly is a Golden Generation. She is almost honoured that she will be able to witness what chaos they will inevitably cause.
The atmosphere grows ever more tense as two bubbles of power approach one another. Onmyōdō against Jujutsu. Which is the better path? Which side is the strongest?
Who will be left standing when the dust settles ten years from now?
She truly cannot wait to find out.
Eventually, inevitably, the castle touches down in front of their gathered crowd, knocking up a plume of dust both from the weight of the landing and from the beats of the enormous Shikigami's wings.
Luckily, there are enough Sorcerers present that not a spec of dust actually reaches the crowd, and the cloud is swiftly dispersed, finally revealing their guests.
A little over a dozen all told, and yet they represent a significant portion of the Jujutsu side's power by virtue of sheer talent alone.
They are all lined up together, and her eyes quickly scan through them. She quickly finds Abe no Seimei, the wayward Onmyōji easily identifiable by his robes matching with the Onmyōji students lined up more than that of those around him.
He is standing by the side of Kamo no Yasunori, one of the most skilled Sorcerers alive, who is dressed like a Jujutsu Sorcerer. It is something that generally stands out about the arriving crowd.
Sorcerers in general do not tend to wear as many layers as pure nobles like her. She is wearing many layers of fabric to the point that it would be suffocating were she not used to it. Sorcerers meanwhile tend to wear less layers as a practical consideration.
They can't have their clothes getting in the way of their movements in a fight.
That being said, the attire of a Jujutsu Sorcerer could only be considered casual by the standards of the capital. If not for the quality of the material and the quality of the dye used, one could even mistake them for the clothes of some simple merchant.
Moving on, her eyes find the Minamoto twins that serve her father. She mostly disregards Yorinobu as the untalented one, focusing more on Yorimitsu. Said to be The Fastest Sorcerer alive.
Then her eyes find the final two Jujutsu Sorcerers worth paying attention to. Kiyohara no Nagiko and Narauko. Coincidentally, it appears that the two have developed some manner of relationship if the way in which she is holding on to him is any indication. Which is interesting since she heard that it was the Taira attempting to woo him.
Perhaps Shōshi would have spent more time considering the various political implications of this, if not for the fact that what her eyes saw next stunned her into stillness and stole her of her breath.
The captivating sight of Kiyohara no Nagiko's iridescent eyes barely held her attention for only a fraction of a second before Narauko's own expression drew her focus.
From the way his wide eyes flitted this way and that, observing everyone and everything around him with a sense of wonder, a boundless Curiosity of this new world. From the smile on his face, full of satisfaction and the confident certainty that he will move as he pleases and no one will stop him, even here in the Imperial Palace.
A soft gasp behind her is all she needs to hear to know that she is not the only one to notice it. That she is not the only one imagining it. That she is not the only one to see her dear Murasaki's face reflecting through this boy's eyes.
"Impossible," Akazome whispers, barely loud enough for her to have even heard it, and yet Narauko's eyes turn in their direction as if he did.
As he looks at them, it is clear that he has no idea who he is looking at as his head tilts slightly in a painfully familiar expression of open curiosity.
And then his attention is pulled away by the pageantry of ceremony as the arriving party is properly greeted.
But she doesn't pay attention to any of that. She barely even hears it, her normally iron tight control of her body and mind failing for the first time in decades as she tries to comprehend this feeling inside of her.
It should be impossible. She surely would have known if Murasaki had successfully had a child. It should be impossible.
Yet. Looking at this boy, she can no longer feel confident in this.
As the woman who effectively raised Murasaki into adulthood. As the woman who likely knew Murasaki better than anyone else alive, there is no way that she could not see it.
Deep inside of her soul, she is certain of it.
Even if it should be impossible.
Narauko is Murasaki's son.
Then again, that unruly brat could have also managed to simply reincarnate herself somehow. Shōshi would not put it past Murasaki to do so.
"Emon-chan," Shōshi quietly mutters behind her fan. "Set up a meeting as soon as possible. Tonight or morning tea."
Akazome doesn't verbally respond, but Shōshi knows that her words were heard and acknowledged.
All the while, her eyes simply cannot leave Narauko's face. The nostalgic familiarity in his expression won't leave her mind.
She finds herself smiling once more.
It seems as if the future is going to be even more interesting than she ever expected.
///
???
///
A nameless servant watches the procession being welcomed feeling only confusion and disbelief.
Things are not going as they expected them to. For the first time in years, they feel doubt.
However, this feeling is quickly shaken away by the loyalty engrained into their mind.
They must report to the Great Prophet this divergence.
He will surely know the right path, for He is wise and righteous.
With one last look at the departing crowd, and the man who should not be, this nameless servant turns around and leaves, rushing to report to their master.
In their haste, however, they never notice the iridescent eyes watching their back.
///
Fujiwara no Michinaga
///
The office of the Sadaijin, the Minister of the Left, has gone through many changes over the last hundred years.
As the highest permanent position of office within the Great Council of State, the office of the Sadaijin has always been a lavish expression of wealth and power. From delicate artwork and storied weapons on display to various cloths and colours that most commoners would go their entire lives without seeing outside of nature.
However, the office of the current Sadaijin is not something that could be described as lavish.
Wealth is apparent, yes. In every piece of furniture, every desk and cut of cloth. Each of them are only of the highest quality. However, there is a sense of minimalism present that no other Sadaijin before has ever observed.
The majority of the floor space being used is taken up by a large, low desk with comfortable pillows to sit on on either side and a number of cabinets at the back of the room filled with stacks upon stacks of paper sheets.
None of the walls feature any woks of art and there are no trophies or valuable items on display. Everything is neat and orderly. The only appeal to vanity present is the purple dye used to colour the cushion on which the Sadaijin sits. A gift he once received from his eldest daughter.
It is there that Fujiwara no Michinaga sits now. He is an old man, yet time has not been harsh to him. His back is straight and his hands do not shake as he writes. His hair is trimmed short and has only started to grey on the sides of his head. He also has salt and pepper facial hair on his chin and upper lip.
He is dressed in a simple black robe patterned with the symbol of his Fujiwara clan and a traditional hat, though it is clear from a glance that the fabric composing said robe is also of the highest quality and exceptionally clean.
There are only two sounds that may be observed in this spartan room. One is that of his brush's thistles as they flow over the parchment rolled out on his desk, a quiet sound that never seems to end.
The other is the metronome of his sōzu rhythmically tapping in the small garden to his left, separated only by the thin paper wall of his office. The sōzu, originally a Shishi-odoshi, meaning deer-frightening or boar-frightening, is a water feature of a simple piece of bamboo set on a pivot that receives a steady trickle of water until it eventually tips, thus spilling the water and dropping back into place, whereupon the familiar clack rings out.
As the name implies, it was originally invented to deter wild animals from trampling on gardens, however there is an appeal to the design that cannot be ignored. As a result, the sōzu is now more of a water feature than that of an agricultural implement.
Michinaga had one constructed because he enjoys the consistency. A steady tempo. One that comes and goes with scheduled punctuality. Clack. Clack. Clack.
He appreciates the order of it. As Sadaijin, he has no time or patience for entropy. This attitude is reflected in the rest of the room. Every stack of paper is perfectly neat, no corners poke out and no sheet is wrinkled.
Everything on his desk is perfectly spaced and set either perfectly parallel or perpendicular. Only ninety degree angles.
His writing is neat, yet some may call it ugly, for he does not care for what others consider to be beautiful brushwork. His lines are all as straight as can be, his writing blocky and uninspired. Yet it is uniform. Every repeating character is drawn as an exact copy as if printed from a stamp.
He knows that his style of writing is not popular amongst the court who so value art and ceremony, but he does not care to write any differently. He despises disorderly brushwork. It is bad enough having to read through the chaos in every report he reads, he could not bear to have to write like that too.
No. He would much prefer if the world would be more orderly. He hates the chaos inherent with nature. It is for that reason that he rarely travels outside. Only when it is necessary for his duties.
It is also for that reason that he chose not to welcome the arriving party, no matter how significant their arrival might be. However, that is only one reason why he refused to attend.
The larger, more poignant reason is simply because the party being welcomed is composed entirely of Sorcerers.
Sorcerers, he scoffs in his mind. His mood ruined just from the mere thought of them.
Being in possession of such personal power is absurd. It breaks the entire societal structure. Humans should be like ants. Weak individually but great in numbers, with direction. No amount of humans will be worth anything without order. But Sorcerers break everything.
They are chaotic, mercurial beings. A fact only made worse by the power they each wield. Capable of disrupting the carefully crafted system that Michinaga has spent his entire life building. They follow their own whims, more so the more power they wield.
Grade Four and Three Sorcerers he could accept. They are stronger than any ordinary human, yes. But they are not so strong as to be able to act with impunity.
In a vacuum, a Special Grade Sorcerer could face the entire force of every able bodied man and woman in his realm and come out victorious. Michinaga is repulsed by the very idea that one man could have his will supersede an entire nation's purely because of power that they were born with.
But Grade Four and Three Sorcerers are not that strong. A sufficiently prepared armed force could dispatch of any such Sorcerer that decided that their words should be law.
The whole should always come before the parts. No one life is worth more than any other. Not even his own. Not really.
That said, this world needs order. Direction. He can provide that order. He has been. For decades. Someone has to, and from what he has seen of the useless louts that call themselves noble, it seems that he is the only one capable enough to do so.
Perhaps his eldest daughter could have taken the mantle were it not for her unfortunate obsession with those damnable Sorcerers.
Power like that belongs only to the discretion of the Heavens. Mortal hands should not reach for the sky, but toil in the earth of their birth.
A soft knocking interrupts his thoughts. Three rapid beats followed by three more and then another three.
Michinaga does not immediately react beyond simply taking note of he noise. His brush only pauses for a fraction of a second before continuing.
He hates leaving things unfinished. Some part of his mind itches at the idea of leaving a sentence half written. It is the same itch he feels when anything in his office is left out of its designated space, or when his desk's various paraphernalia falls askew.
It does not take him long to finish the sentence he was writing. When he does, he moves his right hand to rest in his lap while his left, the one holding his brush, moves to carefully lay said brush beside the parchment before him.
After releasing the brush on his desk, his hand quickly falls back to gently shuffle it a degree to make it more parallel to the paper. When he lets go this time, he watches the brush tilt slightly to the side and his fingers once more take hold of it.
With his thumb and two fingers, he moved the brush back and rotates it slightly. His fingers release some of the pressure on the brush, and when he feels it about to move again he rotates it a bit more, until he is certain that it will remain still despite being circular.
Satisfied, his hand joins the other in his lap and his attention turns to the sliding door at his side. For all of a moment before he finds his hands moving back to the parchment he was writing on in order to push it forward slightly so that the bottom edge is in line with the base of his brush.
His hands return to his lap, and yet he cannot find any comfort. One of his sleeves has pulled back slightly. The tactile sensation, while minor, is almost deafening in his mind and he quickly goes about pulling said sleeve down. Yet that is not good enough and he has to pull the other sleeve too to match, but that does not fix it either and he feels his stomach clench ever so slightly in discomfort.
Luckily, he is used to such feelings, so he does not overreact as he used to in his youth. Instead, he simply holds his arms out to his sides and lightly shakes them, allowing the gravity under Ame-no-Minakanushi-no-kami's unrelenting will to pull them down equally.
With that dilemma finally solved, Michinaga once more turns his attention to the sliding door to his side, while his hands return to his lap.
"Come in."
The door slides open, exposing the garden and his sōzu beyond, and in steps Minamoto no Yorimitsu.
"Excuse me for disturbing you," the boy says as he enters with a bow before turning around to close the door behind him.
Yorimitsu's is not a face that he enjoys seeing. The boy is a powerful Sorcerer and naturally carries with him the sort of irreverence that comes with such power. However, him and his brother are both useful assets, and neither are quite as mercurial as their peers, so Michinaga can allow it. For the value they provide if nothing else.
The two make for good tools to use against the Minamoto clan.
He knows that Minamoto no Yoriyoshi lusts for ever more power. As if his clan was not born as a cadet branch of the Fujiwara.
"Sit."
Yorimitsu follows his instructions with only a nod, and the distant clack of Michinaga's sōzu fills the silence.
In his lap, his thumbs tap together three times before the next strike of the sōzu.
"Fujiwara-sama, I am at your service," Yorimitsu states and Michinaga nods.
The sōzu clacks again and Michinaga's thumbs come together three times.
"Tell me what you have learnt." He ordered the boy to gather some information on the Sorcerers Narauko and Sukuna, as well as what their relationship is like.
He already knows plenty about the other Special Grades, even if he would rather pretend they did not exist. But those two boys are both rather fresh faces, so he does not know as much as he would like.
What he does know is that they are described as being total opposites. Like oil and water. Only, he worries that oil and fire might be a more apt description. They are Sorcerers, after all. Should they end up clashing with one another, a great deal of destruction would naturally follow.
"Narauko-san is just about what he seems," Yorimitsu begins with a calm smile. "If I did not know he was as Cursed as any Sorcerer, I could be convinced that he is a Buddha in disguise. Sukuna is equally violent, and yet they are friends. They are like lodestones and iron. Opposite forces that somehow manage to attract one another. Narauko by himself is not a danger like Sukuna is, but I believe that so long as Narauko lives, Sukuna will not become an issue either."
Michinaga nods his head as he processes the information and compiles it in his mind with what he already knows. It is not necessarily good news, but neither is it terrible news.
It would be best if neither of them existed, but that is unrealistic. Michinaga has personally witnessed the pointlessness of trying to oppose such power. Especially since it is not like when he was younger and there were only two Special Grades to annoy him. With so many being alive in this generation, he would not be able to get rid of them all fast enough to avoid the very chaos he is trying to steer away from.
He could always try reaching out to the Shinobi, but he highly doubts that they hold enough power to assassinate every Special Grade Sorcerer without any of the naturally resulting chaos that would follow.
He suspects that there was a Shinobi involved with Sugawara no Michizane's demise, but he has no evidence of this. Only a feeling.
In all honesty, he did not expect that the Shinobi would have had anyone capable enough to sneak passed the Six Eyes. It is likely that, if the Shinobi were involved at all, it would have been one of their best, if not their actual best Shinobi who took the job.
This is worrying for multiple reasons. One simply being that he had been underestimating the potential power of these Shinobi, and the other being that hiring a Shinobi of such calibre would not be cheap. Which means that whoever orchestrated Michizane's demise must have both wealth and connections.
However, he simply can not figure out who would have gained enough from that course of action to be worth the cost. No matter how he looks at it, no one fits. Michizane's banishment was enough for any of his political enemies to have been satisfied. It is a conundrum that continues to annoy him.
Returning his mind to the conversation at hand, Michinaga asks, "What else have you learnt?"
He never truly expected to learn much from Yorimitsu. The boy did not have a lot of time to work with, and he is not trained in matters of espionage. Michinaga is not an unreasonable man. He simply needs to know the basics without having to meet the boy himself.
Yorimitsu's calm smile gains an amused tilt to it as he responds.
"Only that it appears that Kiyohara no Nagiko is in the process of seducing him, something that he does not seem to mind. I believe that you would prefer that he be tied to a clan as minor as the Kiyohara than to the Taira, yes?"
This is true. The Taira are already the only major clan with an official Special Grade. Should they have not one, but two Special Grades, then Michinaga is certain that it would invariably lead to a war. This is something he would much rather avoid.
War is such a waste of human resources.
Still, this is about as much information as he was expecting to gleam. He will have to look further into the Kiyohara clan to ensure that such an arrangement would not cause any issues. Perhaps he will try and ensure it comes to fruition. It depends, really. Whatever is the most beneficial outcome is naturally the one he will pursue. Now he simply needs to figure out which outcome that is.
"I see," he says at length. his eyes absently tracing the lines of his far wall's construction. "Do you foresee any issues or conflicts in the future regarding Narauko and Sukuna?"
Yorimitsu looks him in the eye and smiles placidly. "Do not worry, Fujiwara-sama," he says. "I have no reason to believe that Narauko and Sukuna will ever come into conflict."
///
Minamoto no Yorinobu
///
At the same time that his brother is sitting before Michinaga, Yorinobu finds himself sitting before his clan head, Minamoto no Yoriyoshi.
Were anyone to see such a thing, they would surely be baffled.
After all, Yorinobu and Yorimitsu are the traitor twins who turned their back on their clans in favour of the ruling Fujiwara no Michinaga. This single act of betrayal has made them eternal enemies of any who bear the name Minamoto. It is a stain on their honour that will never fade.
Yet, these two men do not look at one another with scorn or hate as one might expect.
Instead, Yorinobu sits with his head bowed deferentially while Yoriyoshi looks on with something akin to, but not quite pride in his eyes.
Yoriyoshi is the one to break the silence. "What news do you bring that is so urgent you would risk this meeting? You know what is at stake here. If your deception is uncovered it could mean our ruin."
"I understand, Yoriyoshi-sama." Yorinobu raises his head as he speaks to meet his clan head's eyes. "I come because it is the belief of myself and my brother that the plan should be delayed."
Yoriyoshi's expression tightens at his words, but he does not back down under the older man's glare.
Seeing the certainty in Yorinobu's eyes, Yoriyoshi does not lash out as he so dearly wants to.
"At such a critical point," Yoriyoshi starts, "You believe now that the plan must be altered? Why?"
"Because, Yoriyoshi-sama," he begins, meeting his clan head's glare head on. "In two and a half years' time, Narauko and Sukuna will fight one another to the death."
Yoriyoshi visibly recoils at his words, disbelief etching into his features as Yorinobu's words pass through him. At the same time, he feels something akin to triumph, though he does not allow the feeling to grow.
If this is true, then it could actually be better to delay the plan after all. It has been in the works for many years already, waiting two more is not an unresolvable issue. Certainly not if doing so would bolster their chances of success. Yet still he finds himself sceptical of such easy fortune.
"Why?" He asks instead, still disbelieving. "All reports say that those two are close friends. It is one thing for them to spar, but it is another entirely for them to fight to the death. What is the cause of this conflict? Are they not close friends?"
"His words were that they would fight to discover which of their Curses is the right path." Yorinobu huffs an amused breath through his nose. "It is because they are friends that they will fight. They are Cursed, after all. More so than anyone else."
Yorinobu pities them in a sense. Having grown up in his brother's shadow, he has had a unique perspective on Sorcerers. One thing that he has come to learn, is that Sorcery is a Curse, and that that Curse only grows with strength.
If he could give up his power and live a peaceful life, then he would. He is not strong like his brother is. He does not want to fight like his brother is Cursed to do.
"You are certain?" Yoriyoshi asks, and he nods seriously.
"Yes. Narauko can not lie."
Yoriyoshi studies his face for a long moment before eventually nodding, choosing to trust him for now.
"Okay. In that case, I will heed your words. Now hurry and return to your lodging. I have matters to attend."
Yorinobu bows and then rises and leaves without preamble.
It does pain him somewhat, to delay the plan by years. But it is more important that everything go right than it is that they go fast.
It doesn't matter.
As long as it is the Minamoto clan that is left standing when the dust settles a decade from now. That is all that matters.
///
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
AWOOO!!! The potential homelessness has finally been averted!! Not completely out of the woods cuz now we don't have any savings, but y'know, all's well that ends well :).
As for this chap, I enjoyed it, I like political machinations, and this chap has quite a bit of it, alongside some foreshadowing and a fun drop of deception. I debated leaving the Yorinobu scene for later to build up some tension with Yorimitsu obviously omitting information that he previously found 'interesting', but I decided to be more clear about it because I have a bad habit of not being clear at fucking all. There should be at least some scheming that isn't needlessly subtle lol.
But yeah, I've laid some more groundwork for future reveals, which is always something I enjoy doing. And the next chapter should be a fan favourite, hopefully, maybe. Depends if I do it right.
Also, I said a chap a week and this is cutting it very close to being 8 days rather than 7. That's cuz I've spent the last 8 or so hours in an energy drink induced fugue state writing out another 8k chapter. That makes 2 in a row. I really should split them up into 2 4k chapters since that's my minimum bar and doing so would be the smarter choice, financially speaking.
Alas, I am a reader to and know how annoying that would be, so I won't. Instead I will just write this and the above paragraph as a poorly concealed attempt at guilt tripping you into giving me money anyway =3
(I'm obviously joking btw. While I will naturally be incredibly grateful for any donations, cuz having authorship be my actual job is a literal dream, I'm not gonna sit here and ask you to give me money you need just cuz I wrote a dumb fanfiction lol)