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#battle of the crises
zaiyakua · 10 months
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HATRED & ANGST ANTHEMS. 3 songs that portray your muse’s negative side of life! Bitter, negative, sad, bad vibes. What songs portray the darker sides of your muse?
Arsonist's Lullabye - Hozier
But my peace has always depended On all the a s h e s in my wake All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever t a m e your demons ( But always keep them on a leash )
It's Alright - Mother Mother
I am high and drunk on ego Can't see straight So I just feel my way around man I am touching, I am grabbing Everything I can't be havin' I am broken down in SHAME
I Didn't Ask For This - Beth Crowley
C o l d r a g e hides the shame Of images I can't escape Scars that live under the surface It's strange what I became When part of me was ripped away And REPLACED with something worthless
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cynicalmusings · 1 year
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hey more genshin-me because why not
Elemental Skill: I
I beg to differ.
Elemental Skill: II
Think again.
Elemental Skill: III
Out of mind, out of sight.
Elemental Burst: I
But consider: why?
Elemental Burst: II
Is what you’re doing worth it?
Elemental Burst: III
Does all this even exist?
Opening Treasure Chest: I
Are we going to ignore how the chest just… disappears like that, or…?
Opening Treasure Chest: II
Who left this in here? Why? 
Opening Treasure Chest: III
Does any of this even matter in the long run? 
Low HP: I
I think you’re overestimating my skills here…
Low HP: II
…Yikes.
Ally at Low HP: I
Well done. [sarcastic]
Ally at Low HP: II
Cutting it close, aren’t you?
Fallen: I
Well, that went well…
Fallen: II
I wonder… what happens next…
Fallen: III
What was it all for…?
Light Hit Taken: I
Ouch.
Heavy Hit Taken: I
Okay, that’s fair.
Heavy Hit Taken: II
Can’t we talk this through instead?
Joining Party: I
Just don’t get me killed, okay?
Joining Party: II
Uh, sure, I guess. Why, though?
Joining Party: III
Go ahead, then. Enlighten me.
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floorpancakes · 1 year
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it was a cruel twist of fate that everything i actually wanted and all my personal growth flashed before my eyes as soon as i ended up in the biggest mental and physical crisis of my life that has slowly eaten away at my will to live and aged me like crazy but at least it gives me (this is a metaphor and not literal***) watanuki kinnie points
#ehe#no but like ITS KINDA FUNNY THO#the funniest part is i got more and more mixed on the og holic manga ending the more and more i went through mental health crises#and various inabilities to feel like i can see friends without feeling scared or battles with loneliness or all that depressing stuff#like as a teenager i found suffering and tragedy in stories a lot more mature and beautiful than i do now#smth abt going through suicidal periods and massive mental issues that makes the holic ending look less and less beautiful and mature etc#i mean theres beauty in it and most of my fav series are DEEPLY TRAGIC AND COMPLICATED but also fuck this let them be happy#holic especially just feels so fuckin wild cause on the one hand its rly fucking poetic as a cautionary tale but#also its like ...for a series deeply centered on personal growth and depression....to contradict its own thesis statement...#i think part of my mixed feelings is rei cause the fetch quest dream world sike actually made me angry#plus it felt kinda like ...oh no choice is the wrong choice freedom of choice good (peer pressures him into making the 'right' choice)#tfw the hand monster is THE COOLEST SHIT imaginable but what it represents kinda soured me on rei lol#anyway when Rei continues ill keep up with it but my eyes are SIDE EYEING it real bad#sometimes i think abt how the ovas further clarified various shit the anime chose not to#they said no clamp not everything is improved by teacher student forbidden romance ambiguity theyre not actually into each other#stamped that ambiguity out right away#i forgot where i was going w this#anyway angst is good but sometimes anime characters should have nice things#i have no idea where this train of thought came from#i used to be too anxious to go too hard on likkng holic cause nobody cared and i worried i was being too cringe#at least in my sick person with no life era one of my big realisations was that that was dumb and i like it way more than i let on#cringe is dead and doumeki is not in my brain because i said so
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msrandonstuff · 1 year
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my god my father gave me a debit card does this means im growing or some shit like that im not ready wtf what do you mean im a citizen and soom enough an Adult™?
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kon-konk · 1 year
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I just realized I have a pressing question about Touken Ranbu. I'm still new to it so I don't know if it's answered somewhere in lore and I haven't gotten to it yet, but...
Are .. are the swords given human form fighting with... Themselves? Like, are they, as humans, using sword versions of themselves when they fight?
If they are, does this fuck with their heads? Because the idea fucks with mine.
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robiniswriting · 4 months
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donna noble consulting at unit is hilarious to me considering she’s got the doctor living in the tardis in her backyard and he’s actively trying to temporarily retire from the whole “saving humanity from the current existential alien threat” business.
the doctor asking about how her day went and donna just staring him down trying to decide whether or not she should let on that there’s some kind of invasion happening.
the doctor and donna having staring contests where they both know that he wants to go do something about the problem but donna is absolutely not going to let him.
rose comes home after school to find the doctor and donna sitting on the couch opposite each other forcefully drinking tea and engaging in the most intense version of small talk that has ever existed because they both know that if donna relents he will absolutely get involved in whatever unit-fuckery is going down on any given day.
but he’s committed to living life the slow way round (for the most part at least) and donna’s his best friend so she’s gonna help him goddammit, even if it means forcing him to sit on sylvia’s floral-patterned couch while he’s mentally bouncing off the walls with the desire to be useful.
poor rose, shaun, sylvia, and wilf are forced to bear witness to this battle of wills for the next ten to fifteen years before donna’s point — which is that we can manage without you sometimes, you idiot, you’re not the center of the universe and things don’t necessarily always fall apart just because you weren’t directly involved — finally sinks in and the doctor manages to find some semblance of chill.
(donna absolutely never admits to him how many of those crises were averted by other versions of him. she doesn’t want his ego to reinflate. they’ve been doing so well getting it to go down.)
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wingheadshellhead · 7 months
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i'm back on my "mcu steve was in the darkest timeline because he never experienced the canon event of tony stark giving him a home and a family" bullshit. post-ice steve was isolated, grieving, lonely, going through ptsd and survivor's guilt and he was constantly fixated on how he had no home or family or identity beyond cap. post-ice in the mcu, SHIELD stuck him in the costume and sent him back into the field, reinforcing the idea that he was nothing more than the empty shell of captain america.
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"All my life I've tried to find a place for Steve Rogers—but still he lives under the more colorful shadow of Captain America… Perhaps it's Steve Rogers who's the legend—and Captain America who is the reality! Perhaps I was born to be a red-white-and-blue Avenger—and nothing more! But there must be more to life than endless combat! Others have found a home—a family—why can't I? Or, is Steve Rogers destined to walk alone forever—until the final battle—until he walks no more?"
— Tales of Suspense Vol. 1 #75 (1959)
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"[...] But, even in the center of a crowd, I'm an outsider—a misfit! Only when I'm costumed as Captain America do I seem to come alive—to have a mission—a purpose! But, as Steve Rogers, I'm merely a name—a hollow shell—with no roots—no real life to call my own! Other men have friends—wives—loved ones!"
— Tales of Suspense Vol. 1 #92 (1959)
in the comics, the canon event of tony stark, the first person steve meets in the 21st century, giving him all of those things — a purpose, a home, somewhere to belong as himself and not just cap — changed his entire life.
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"The first week after I came out of the ice… It was a dark time. I'd lost everything. My best friend. All my friends. All I had. I didn't know what I could hang on to. And then Tony Stark came in with this little… handheld cinema. Future technology. He showed me a newsreel. Right there, I saw a man walk on the moon. For all mankind. And in that moment, I felt hope again."
— S.W.O.R.D. Vol. 2 #6 (2021)
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"Mr. Stark, when I woke up in this era, I had no one. Nothing. You gave me a purpose. Somewhere to belong… You gave me a home."
— Iron Man/Captain America: Casualties of War (2006) 
meeting tony and the avengers, creating those friendships and connections, living at the avengers mansion with them, gives steve hope that he can still find happiness and belonging in the present day.
i always found it ironic that in the mcu steve projects this ideal of happiness and domestic life onto tony. this scene in ca:cw is a perfect example of that disconnect between the reality and what steve assumed on the surface was tony achieving what he never could — having a partner, his own family and kids. (the fact that cacw tony is 4 seconds away from a heart attack at all times and too busy running around firefighting PR crises just further drives home the irony.)
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and then in a cruel twist of fate, mcu actually gives tony all of these things: home, family, wife and kid. we see steve witnessing tony having these things and knowing it's all possible, but just not for him and not in this era. (and ultimately, tony only gets to have these things for a brief period of time before having to give it all up.)
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mcu steve never got to have the experiences that have shaped every other universe's steve rogers. the presence of tony stark, his friendship, his home, his love (whether platonic or romatnic), that formed the foundation of steve's purpose within the avengers, is intrinsic to steve finding hope and happiness in the modern day. the mcu changing such a crucial canon event rewrote not only the core of mcu steve's story but the trajectory of the cinematic universe. and in the end, the writers sent steve back to the past because they believed after 6 movies and 7 years, he had nothing left to live for in the present and i honestly can't think of anything more tragic.
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northgazaupdates · 2 months
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12 February 2024
Environmental engineer Dr. Tamer Al-Najjar continues working to rebuild Gaza even as the genocide rages on. On the struggles of working through a genocide, he writes,
Working amid war doesn't just entail working under fire; it's also about engaging in an internal battle over family provisions, such as water, food, and navigating through various crises amidst the war of starvation and thirst in the northern Gaza Strip!
Source: Tamer Al-Najjar via Stories on Instagram
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theeoriginals · 22 days
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I’d love to see your take on an arranged marriage with klaus (like medieval times or some period like that). maybe he’s marrying her to get something from her/her family but there’s something a little off about the reader (hint: she does what giulia tofana did - google her if you’re not familiar!! her story is so fascinating) and when he pieces it together he’s smitten with her 💗💗
aqua tofana | klaus mikaelson
author's note; this has been in my inbox for over a month because i was so inspired by it that I decided a 14k oneshot was necessary I hope I did it justice
klaus mikaelson x reader (no y/n) use of nickname in place of y/n
warnings; arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, klaus is a little shit but so is reader so it's okay, no Y/N, mentions of domestic abuse but not in regards to reader, mentions of poison, fluff, shy!klaus (he is real to me), these two mfers are in LOVE, mikael (a warning in itself), minor violence and bloodshed but nothing too bad. if I missed anything let me know!! this is heavily inspired by ACOTAR bc I just binged the entire series in less than a week so thank you sarah j. maas for your service
The Mikaelsons were said to be a noble family. One with loyalty and strength. 
They were coming to stay in their small kingdom, in their castle. Three of them. Elijah, Rebekah, and Niklaus. Looking for a safe haven, to avoid growing conflicts in surrounding areas. Looking for someplace to call home for a little while longer– at least, until they could no longer pass as mortals.
Riverend was perfect for them. 
The way the people of Riverend saw it, their problems were their own, and the larger, outlying kingdoms could fight their nonsensical battles without any help from a small, useless kingdom built downstream from them, carved right out of the flowing water that traveled through their town square by the calloused hands of the families that still lived there today.
As far as anyone was concerned, Riverend had no monetary value, no natural resources to capitalize off of, no armies worth rallying, and no animals to trade. The only thing it had was its people, and to most, that meant nothing. It meant they went overlooked, and were never considered in territory battles and similar crises. But to the right person–a dangerous person– such a thing could mean everything. 
That is why she was so wary to accept this supposedly noble family into their walls. She had to be wary, to think of the danger they could bring along with them should they stay. How much danger it could put her kingdom in. 
It’s why she had further qualms about marrying the man the king had been corresponding with all these months. Said qualms, of course, outside of the fact that she had no real desire to marry, let alone to a stranger. All familiarity aside, she had a duty to her people to maintain their livelihoods and not leave them stranded for her own selfish desires. Even if it meant marrying some man. 
With her mother’s voice in her head telling her to keep her chin up and her shoulders back, she was determined to keep her wits about her. She didn’t complain when she was asked to wear one of her nicer gowns to greet the family when they arrived that brisk, cloudy afternoon. She let her ladies dress her in a midnight blue gown that swept along the ground, with sleeves that draped over her hands, leaving no skin visible, spare for her neck and face. 
She was escorted by the king to the throne room, where she stood at his shoulder, resting a hand on the embroidered fabric along the muscle hidden beneath the layers. A silent, supportive daughter. A perfect royal family, to anyone who might linger too long while looking in their direction. 
Two of their sentries escorted their new houseguests into the throne room, and she did nothing but raise a brow at their humble appearance. The girl, Rebekah, was young. She’d seen better days, and she silently wondered where they had traveled from that had them end up before her and her father with dirt scuffs on their cheeks, and scruffy, unkempt facial hair marring their jaws. 
“Welcome, Lords and Lady, to our home,” Her father spoke genially, a content smile on his face as if he was unaware of the judgmental look his daughter was fixing them with. “We’re honored to have you here, honored to build a bridge between our families for years to come.” 
One of the long-haired men spoke, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, making him look like he was some proper gentleman and not a random man who had shown up on her doorstep. 
“The honor is all ours, Your Majesty. The opportunities that your generosity has given my family have not gone unnoticed. We thank you and the Princess for your kindness.” 
The King shifted slightly like he’d forgotten his daughter was there. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, and she met his gaze, peering down at him over the bridge of her nose. “Yes, my daughter. Nyxia. She’s a woman of few words, I must warn you all. And when she chooses to speak, it’d do you well to listen closely.” 
All of their eyes shifted to her, but the set of icy blue ones had never left. Not to meet the king’s eyes, or look around at his new home for the foreseeable future of their impending marriage. 
“Your Highness,” Blue eyes, suddenly alight with fire. Flame that burns her from the tips of her toes to the base of her scalp that her very hair grows out of. Flame that ravages civilizations, and wipes out bloodlines. She can feel the darkness in him from two simple words. It’d take a fool to not see it. “I look forward to getting to know you before our prospective arrangement takes place.”
He wasn’t lying, she could tell. But his words seemed to hold as much weight as hers did. A hidden meaning tucked behind every spoken syllable. Dangerous. So dangerous. The King was a fool to not see it, but that was neither here nor there. 
Licking her lips, she chose her first words carefully. It was always important to make a lasting first impression, but with this man– with her future husband, she wanted to be honest from the start. She wanted, for once, to reveal her hand before the game started. Just to see what he’d do. Just to see what he had planned. 
But she didn’t. She knew it would just be chaos. And even though such things were in her blood, she couldn’t risk anything this far into everything.
“Lord Niklaus,” She didn’t move a muscle besides the ones it took to make words form on her tongue. “My kingdom rejoices with your arrival. They will be overjoyed with the announcement of our nuptials.” 
And the man, encased in his flames that felt as if they could burn the whole world down should he please, tilted his head and smirked at her. Like he’d heard every thought she’d had in the moments between words. 
Nothing else was said between them, not verbally, at least, and the king interrupted the rising tension that was so obvious between the Princess and the Mikaelson siblings, oblivious to the people he’d surrounded himself with. 
“Lady Rebekah, my daughter can show you to your rooms in the east wing. You’ll have ladies of your own to help you bathe and dress,” He gestures to the blonde, who looks childishly excited at the thought. “The both of you will be in the west wing, my men can take you to your rooms. We can reconvene tonight at dinner, yes?” 
The three siblings bowed at their waist, easily deferring the power back to the King. 
“In the meantime, feel free to explore. Our home is yours, now. Make yourselves comfortable.” 
She stayed in the throne room long after even her father had left, watching the doors the siblings had been escorted through. She lingered at her place beside the throne, nearly behind it, where her mother once stood behind a man who looked like he belonged on a throne more than any woman would. She laid a hand around the back of the embossed silver and thought to herself that it would look better in gold. 
────── 
Klaus watched his wife-to-be dig into the dinner presented before them moments ago, her fork the first one to move, even before her father’s. She didn’t sit at the head of the table, but just to the right of her father, and Klaus had taken the seat across from her. He did not doubt that she could feel his eyes on her, but she was pointedly ignoring it in favor of talking to his sister at her side. 
Rebekah, ever the people pleaser. Even in their centuries on this earth, Rebekah could never resist the desire to cling to the nearest female in their proximity. He hadn’t said anything to her about it, yet. He figured there was no harm in letting her delude herself into thinking that Princess Nyxia wanted anything to do with any of them. 
Elijah wasn’t even pretending to be friendly like he tended to be in this position. He’d been silent for a majority of the day, perhaps tired from their travels, though Klaus doubted it was anything so simple. If Klaus were to look at himself as a King, it would be Elijah as his second, watching everything and everyone, dutifully reporting back to him about usurpers and battles to come. It would be Elijah ripping hearts out, and Klaus taking responsibility for the blood on his brother’s hands. 
There was a reason it was only the three of them. His other siblings just didn’t understand that you did everything for family. 
He supposes that’s why he’s so curious about the two royals before him. They were the only family they had left, and yet there was something unspoken there, something withheld between them that left a tenuous truce. There was such anger behind Nyxia’s eyes, and Klaus had the urge to push and push at it until it finally shattered. Elijah often compared him to a child for this inane urge, and Klaus couldn’t deny it. 
“This food is lovely, Your Majesty,” 
Rebekah looked at Nyxia’s father with a sweet little smile, and Klaus wondered how she managed to maintain such a degree of humanity inside of her after everything.
“Oh, it’s all my sweet Nyx,” He turns his pleasant, kingly smile to his daughter. Looks like he owes her the world. She doesn’t return an ounce of the fondness, but she still smiles, like she knows it’s expected of her. “She has specific tastes, so I prefer her to pick the menu. Our cooks in the kitchen work to make it all come to life and it never disappoints.” 
It works in the way that it makes Rebekah turn adoring eyes onto Nyxia once again, but it doesn’t do as such for the two brothers. There’s something about this place that drew them to it in the first place and they wanted to figure it out, neither of them did very well when it came to venturing into the unknown, so they devised the plan. It’s set in motion, it’s happening as they sit at this table and eat this food, and yet he still feels wrongfooted. He’s missing something, he’s missing the thing that brought him to this small kingdom in the first place. 
He doesn’t like living in the dark. 
Elijah cuts a thin bite of the lamb chop on the plate in front of him. “Do you cook, then, Princess?”
“If I am feeling particularly inspired, yes,” She grabs her silver chalice, swirling the dark red wine in it before she takes a drink. “I prefer vinification.” 
The King’s face lights up like he’d been waiting for another opportunity to brag on his daughter. “Yes, Nyxia made the wine we’re drinking tonight. She tries to make a personal barrel at least once a year, and it’s always the most unique flavor. She goes out and picks fruits from our trees up near the bluffs, where–”
“I’m sure they aren’t interested to know what fruits our land produces, Father.”
“On the contrary,” Her eyes shot to Elijah at his words. “I think it’d be quite ignorant of us to turn down any knowledge of the land we’re to call… home. It seems to be a very special place.” 
She watches him for a moment, eyes narrowing at his unsuspecting tone. “Yes,” She muses quietly, looking away from Elijah to meet Klaus’s gaze like she can tell Elijah’s speaking on his behalf. “Perhaps I’ll show you what makes it so special.”
None of them acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t so much of an offering of camaraderie, but rather a threat. 
────── 
Months go by. Time passes peacefully, but Klaus is growing restless. 
With the announcement of their joining sent out to the few people they intended to invite outside of their kingdom, they had begun preparing the castle for the celebration and the princess found herself preoccupied with menial tasks, like picking out what flower arrangements to line the aisle with and what color banners should hang from the ceilings above them. 
Throughout it, she’d done her best to avoid the Mikaelsons but maintained a close enough distance so they couldn’t claim she was giving them the cold shoulder. She’d grown quite good at falsifying closeness throughout her years. She was designed to have a connection with her people that displayed generosity but not bias. A relatability, but not a weakness. 
She was sure that Rebekah would call them best friends by now, but she also knew the girl could not even tell a person what the princess’s favorite color was if someone ever bothered to ask her. 
She has always been able to exist in a way that makes her entirely extraordinary, but forgettable the moment she’s out of sight. 
She’s been able to use the wedding as an excuse to avoid isolated interactions with Klaus, but she knew he’d catch her without an excuse one of these days. She would’ve preferred to avoid it for a bit longer, but she wasn’t unprepared when it finally happened.
Standing in the aisle of the throne room where the banners of white and gold were hanging above the place they were to stand in front of her people and all of the guests they’d sent invitations out to and declare an undying bond that didn’t exist, she felt a rage bubble inside of her that she was quick to smother into nothing but cinders and ash when she heard the doors creak open behind her and footsteps slow as he stopped beside her. 
“You’re a hard woman to track down, Princess,” 
“You could have sent for me at any time. It is my duty to serve my subjects,” 
She glances at Klaus out of the corner of her eye and sees an amused look grow on his face. “Is that what I am? One of your subjects?” 
“Until we are bound by law, yes, Lord Mikaelson. You are one of my subjects and I your Princess. Soon enough you’ll be Prince, and you will also owe loyalty to my subjects because this place does not exist without them.” 
“You take such pride in this kingdom, in these lands, yet you did not win it in a battle, have not even fought in one, as far as I’m aware. You have no value to other kingdoms, and yet your father brags of orchards and vineyards with bountiful fruits. He tells tales of heroic civilians, always offering a helping hand to those in need. Sparing what they can, to maintain their peace here. It’s an odd thing, considering I’d never seen or heard of Riverend before that time all those months ago when I first met your father.” 
“And yet, here you stand, within the walls of my kingdom, amongst my people. In my home.” 
There’s no humor in her voice. There isn’t any hatred in it, either, and he can tell she’s got that impenetrable mask on again. Even her momentary anger or irritation was different from this nothingness. 
He can hear her father’s words from that very first day, telling them all that her words are important. He remembers thinking it was such an odd thing to point out at that time. It almost rings like a warning, now, and not a twisted compliment for the woman. 
“It’s curious, is all. I wonder if I’ll understand what inspires such devotion once I am Prince, or if it is a feeling only you experience.” 
She turns, finally, to look at him. “You are interested in learning what makes me love my people and my home?” 
He ducks his head in a nod. “Guilty, I suppose.”
“Then I will show you,” She nods once, firmly. Like she’s just decided it then and there because of his earnest words, and he thinks it’s a ridiculous, rash thing, but when he looks into her eyes there is no hesitation or wariness. “Tonight, we will have dinner and I will answer all of your questions. I will show you why I would spill endless blood for this kingdom, and never ask any of my people to do the same for me in return.” 
He raises his brows, letting a sliver of his suspiciousness show in his icy, blue-gray eyes. “You’re offering such honesty to my family after weeks of pretending like we don’t exist? Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your generosity.” 
“Not your family. You. You and I will have dinner alone, and I will tell you everything you want to know,” She corrects him, earning a more genuine look of shock from him. “You are to be my husband. One day you will be my King, and I your Queen. Is honesty not the place to start?” 
Klaus falls silent, watching her, waiting for a slip-up. For any sign of hesitation or scheming behind her endless eyes. Finding nothing, he bites out a wry laugh and nods in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from her to look around at the decorated throne room. 
The betrotheds stand silent together for a few minutes, and she offers no insight into whatever it is she’s thinking as she stares at the throne front and center in the room. 
“Is my help needed for our wedding?” Klaus says suddenly as if there isn’t a mounting tension building in the room like a shadow of the night. 
“Not unless you are offering,” She says simply. “I’ve told them white and gold, for our colors. My dress is to be fashioned similarly, as are your garments. I’m sure you’ll be summoned for fittings, but our seamstresses have plenty of work to do before then.” 
The man hummed agreeingly. “Then I shall leave you to it. And I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” 
“Before you go, Lord Mikaelson,” 
“I am certain you can call me Niklaus. Just Klaus if you’re feeling particularly agreeable that day, Princess,” 
She raised a brow like one might raise their lips in humor. “Niklaus.” 
He looks at her indulgently. 
“Even after we are married, outside of our duties to this kingdom, I will never ask you for anything,” She says, her words striking something like a warning bell inside him. “But right now, I have a question for you.” 
“Ask me anything, Princess,” 
“Do you know who you are?” 
Klaus’s eyebrows flexed on his forehead. “Pardon?” 
She turns to face him head-on, standing before him like she did that first day they arrived, only this time there was barely a foot of distance between them. He could almost see her pulse move in the long lines of her throat. “I ask you, as your future wife, do you know who you are? Do you feel the shadow that shields your soul? Do you feel the fire that consumes you?” 
She tilts her head at his suspended silence. “You hide from the light that is still inside of you. You hide from someone. But you won’t hide from me. You can’t. It is because of that unfair advantage that I am offering you honesty. Know that I do this for you as an act of trust. Do not underestimate the weight of such a thing, or you will see just what I am willing to do for this place.” 
She side-steps him and walks past him, leaving him in a stunned silence that quickly turns into rage that they both know he can’t take out on anything within the walls of this castle, and the borders of this kingdom. 
She’s established the high ground. And she has made it clear that it is not Klaus standing up there, looking down at her, but rather the other way around. 
She’s offered to even the playing field, though. He’s curious to see just how much honesty she’ll be parting with tonight. He’s curious to see how it will end. 
────── 
The table is set for two. 
It’s different from the dining table they’ve been occupying for the past three weeks. This is a table made for two, and only for two. 
Candlelight casts shadows around the room, and Klaus does a slight double take as he walks towards the table, escorted quietly by one of the sentries from his quarters to this room. He’s loath to admit he was distracted by thinking about all of the possibilities of this dinner to pay attention to the fact that he was being led to the east wing and not the usual central hall where meals were had. 
But it’s too late for him to question it, as the sentry is walking out and a door across the room opens, revealing the princess. 
She’s changed again– always in different gowns throughout the day. This one is similar to the one she was wearing when they first met. A blue so dark it looks black, that holds color like the night sky. Sleeves that drape over her shoulders and cinch down to her wrist, leaving only her hands bare. With the dim lighting of this private dining room, shadows dance around her face, and he thinks to himself that the shadows cling to her. 
She gestures for him to take a seat, already doing so, and she immediately grabs a corked bottle from the side of the table, popping it open and pouring their golden chalices halfway full before she sets it back down. 
Klaus takes the first drink and has to bite back the pleased noise he starts to make, if only out of spite. 
“I’ve been fermenting this wine for three years,” She informs him, seemingly hearing the noise anyway, if the gleam in her eye is anything to go by. “It’s from my private reserves.” 
“Aren’t they all from your private reserves?” 
“No, I give barrels to the tavern in town,” She swirls it around in her cup, quirking a brow at him. 
“Give, or sell?” 
“Aren’t you the one who said I have undying generosity for this kingdom for no good reason?” She takes a small sip of the wine, holding it in her mouth for a moment before she sets it down. “It’s too bitter for my liking.” 
Klaus hums, taking another drink. “Perhaps you’re just your own biggest critic,” 
“Mm, perhaps,” She concedes, fluttering her eyes in a slight roll. It’s as casual as he’s ever seen her, and she’s still sitting stock-straight in her chair, shoulders back and chin high. As royal as ever. “Are you going to start asking your questions?” 
He smirks, tilting his head in a slight nod. “Maybe I was waiting for your permission. I wouldn’t want to be a rude dinner guest, after all. Not after you’ve brought this lovely meal into this secluded space,” 
“It’s mine. I don’t always prefer to eat in the company of others,” She says. “My bedroom is through that door.” 
She points to the door she’d come through upon his arrival, and his eyes follow the curve of her arm through the fabric shifting along it. 
“How lucky I am, then, hm?” 
“Oh, most people would not call it luck, Niklaus. In fact, I think I heard your brother say to your sister once that it feels like you’re all just sheep in a wolf’s den.”
Klaus makes a dry noise of acknowledgment, mentally cursing his brother for saying such things within earshot of anyone, let alone his soon-to-be wife. “My brother’s desire to protect this family often leads him to paranoia, I’m afraid.” 
“I never said he was wrong.” 
Klaus’s hands flex in his lap, out of view of the princess. “Oh, is that so? Then maybe I am ready to start asking questions,”
She beckons him on with a wave of her hand. Neither of them has touched their meals. He doesn’t think they’ve broken eye contact, either. Locked in this stalemate, tension rising and rising and rising. 
“I have traveled far and wide in my days on this planet, and I have come across some very strange places, I must say. But never have I come across a place that simply… doesn’t exist,”
If Klaus knew any better, he’d think she looked excited at the words coming out of his mouth.
“That is not a question, my Lord,” 
He smirks at her correction. “What is it? What is it that hides this place from the map? How do you keep travelers passing through, yet no one has ever had so much as a–a tall tale, or some monster story to tell about this place? You fight in no wars but you have sentries stationed throughout this castle, on guard every night and day. You trade no goods, but these lands are bountiful in fruits and vegetables, crops as big as this castle grow in people’s yards. So, tell me, Princess Nyxia, how do you do it?” 
She shifts in her chair, leaning her arm onto the armrest, and for the first time since he met her all those months ago, she smiles. 
She smiles widely, and it’s not something wicked or cold, but instead, it’s amusement, through and through. Every bit of that coldness stays in her eyes, though. Darkness still clinging to her like a child and its mother.
“There are stories about things– creatures so dangerous that you cannot even utter their name, for fear of inviting them into your home, your mind,” She starts, undoubtedly aware of the anticipation thrumming in his veins. He’s had to be so careful about feeding since they came here, compelling people, and never taking too much, because he can’t risk her catching on. He thinks he feels more human than ever within these walls, and it’s such an odd thing. 
“My real name has not been spoken in decades. Most people in this kingdom, in this castle, do not know me as anything other than Nyxia. It is the name that my mother held when people started to refuse to say her name as well, and in honor of her great life, I now bear it as my own.”
Klaus lets out a slow breath, a feeling like adrenaline coursing through him. “What are you, Nyxia?” 
“I am the shadows that follow you along the walls, I am the very stars in the sky. I am the end to every day, and I will be the end to it all when I am finally called back home. I am the thing you see every time you blink your eyes, Klaus Mikaelson. I am darkness.” 
He shuffles, leaning his elbows onto the table to examine her closely, in a way that he hasn’t had the chance to do since their arrival. “You keep this place hidden so that people don’t find you and hunt you.” 
“Why do you think you and your siblings found this place? Why do you think you could see and remember what so many others could not?” She raised a brow, pulling her cloth napkin from her lap and dropping it atop her untouched plate. “I know what you are, Niklaus Mikaelson. The Original Hybrid. The divide in you is shadowed in darkness. I am, and have been a part of your very being from the day you took your first breath and were declared a bastard.” 
He flinches minutely, but she sees it anyway. “Why me? Why lure me and my family here? To kill us? I have no doubt you have every means to kill creatures such as ourselves if your claims of power are to be taken as truth.” 
“I have no intention to kill you, Klaus,” She pushes her chair back from the table, standing up. Silently, she gestures for him to do the same. “I have not yet told you why I do what I do here.” 
“You haven’t even told me what you do here, let alone why,” 
She chuckles freely and he ignores the chill that travels down his spine at the sound. It’s like she’s been waiting on him to break this dam between them, and now that her secret is out, she’s alive. 
She’d told him earlier to realize the weight that is behind her trust, her honesty. He will admit to himself that he had underestimated it, even in the wake of her precautions.
“Your family is not expecting you tonight, right?” 
He raises his brows but shakes his head. “I told them I’d be having dinner with you and that I’d be out for the night. Why do you ask?” 
“We’ll be taking a trip. I have things to do,”
It’s all she says before she leads him into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them. 
────── 
Draped in cloaks that covered their faces in shadows she had promised him would keep them hidden while they made their way through muddy alleys and thick groves of trees, Klaus couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d gotten himself into. 
He didn’t often admit that he was in over his head– was rarely in such a position at all– but this. This was something he was utterly in the dark about. The irony wasn’t lost on him, either. 
“Where are we going, Princess?” 
“You may call me Nyxia, you know. You did earlier,” 
“I am nothing if not a gentleman, Princess Nyxia,” 
She rolls her eyes, but there’s an unfamiliar degree of humor in the action. He’s still discombobulated at her complete flip of a switch, but he’s trying to familiarize himself with it. He selfishly hopes that she doesn’t slide that cold mask back on when they return to the castle. 
“They’ll be just through here,” Nyxia led them through another tightly packed thicket of trees, and just as Klaus was about to complain, they broke through into a clearing that nearly took his breath away. 
Though they were undoubtedly still surrounded by the forest she’d traipsed them through for the past hour, at least, this ovaloid clearing was shrouded in a different kind of darkness than the night that encased the rest of the area. 
Light up by the stars glimmering just out of reach above their heads, women mingled about, stopping to talk to one another. A few children ran by, laughing as they chased one another barefoot through the trees, disappearing out of sight and earshot as soon as they left the area, only to reappear before him like a bursting bubble. 
Klaus turned slightly to look at Nyxia, watching her pull her cloak down off her head and smile kindly, genuinely, to the people who had stopped and gathered around them. Klaus took the cue and pulled his own hood off, and his presence immediately earned wary looks. 
Glancing at Nyxia, he fought the urge to jump when her hand landed on his arm, her face contorting into an understanding but reassuring look. “No, no, look,” 
She pulled Klaus closer to her, keeping her hand wrapped around his arm as he looked warily at the sea of faces watching him. Feeling entirely caught off guard, he stayed silent, happily letting Nyxia take the reins.
“This is my betrothed,” Her words immediately earn a variety of reactions. From the children, their hesitance turns into immediate adoration. From the older women, teasing laughs are shared between them, and Nyxia bats a hand out to silence them, though it’s not done out of real offense. 
Friends, he realizes. These are her friends. She’s brought him to meet her friends that she has hidden in this patch of woods, further secluding a place that already doesn’t exist outside of its own bubble. 
An unavoidable arrow of fondness shoots down his spine, and he bats it away as quickly as he can. 
“So our lovely princess has finally brought a prince to meet us,” One of the older women grins tauntingly, and Klaus eyes the wrinkles around her mouth that only come from smiling too much, and the strands of gray hair falling out of the braids she’s got piled atop her head. 
“Klaus,” He says, somewhat shocked by the emotion in his voice. “You may call me Klaus.” 
“Klaus, then,” The woman nods, conveying something to Nyxia that is seemingly translated between the two of them, though Klaus couldn’t even begin to guess what went unsaid. 
Nyxia finally removes her hand from his arm to reach into her cloak, pulling three small bottles out and passing them off to the older woman, whose face turns somewhat solemn. 
“I know that one is for Merida,” The woman starts, meeting Nyxia’s gaze from beneath her lashes. “But who are the other two?” 
“Reya and Liesl,” 
The woman curses beneath her breath and apologizes when the children nearby gasp. 
“When am I to bring this to them?”
“Within the week. It has only been getting worse lately,” 
As if she were a soldier being told her life was being offered up on the chopping block, the woman nodded and tucked the vials into the deep pockets of the dress she wore. “I will send word once they are here.” 
“Thank you, Theresé,” She grabs Klaus’s arm gently once more, beginning to steer him towards the path they’d taken, but she stops short, looking over her shoulder with a slight smirk. “You are all invited to the wedding, of course. Next month. I will send someone to escort you to the castle.” 
A bout of excited tittering follows them out, and they walk in silence, heading a bit of the way back towards the castle before she leads them off to the left, walking them across one of the runoff creeks that flow with the river through town.
He remains silent until she leaves his side to push open a gate ahead of them, the metal creaking and groaning beneath her force, but giving way eventually. 
This time, when Klaus steps forward, he instantly knows where he is. “The orchard,” 
“Yes,” Nyxia takes a deep breath in, releasing it quietly. “Come, let’s sit.” 
She leads him to a wooden bench down the main aisle in between the trees full of ripe fruit, all looking ready to be harvested and used. 
“That place,” He starts once they’ve been seated for a moment, Klaus watching Nyxia’s profile as she basks beneath shadows and night of her own making. “What is it?” 
“It has no name,” She informs him, her voice unexpectedly soft.
She’s been so different this entire night, he wonders how long she’s been waiting for someone to just ask her these questions. Every person who’s been close enough to do it has been too scared of what wrath they may face if they did ask her about the oddities of her home, but Klaus did it because he can’t help but push people. 
“It has no name, and no one knows of it besides the ones who live there, and myself. Now, you do, too,” 
“What is the purpose of it? Why is it only women and children?” 
She takes a long moment to think about her words, and he can see the way she struggles to verbalize her thoughts because no one had ever thought to ask her before. “Just because I am darkness does not mean that I can control all that exists in this world. I can’t take away what already exists, no matter how much I wish to. That place is what I call a loophole. I have them hidden all around the world. Because I cannot erase what already exists, I must find a way to work around it. To remove the darkness I wish to see gone without violating the laws of my making.” 
“And what exactly have you been working around?” 
“Humanity,” She says simply. “With every passing decade, they tear themselves apart more and more. My loopholes exist to take people out of that chaos, of the darkness. Sometimes it’s a hungry child or a bastard,” 
Klaus glances away for a moment before forcing his gaze back to hers. 
“Sometimes it is a woman that gets sold to the highest bidder. The woman I spoke to, Theresé, was one of the first women I saved from a nearby village. Her husband was an utter brute and had killed his first wife when she had barely seen sixteen name days. Theresé was strong, but there was only so much she could do before the inevitable. So I stepped in and I proposed a hypothetical situation to her, where all she would have to do is make him dinner and serve him wine, and meet me outside of her home later that night.
“I did not think she would do it, but when the moon was high in the sky, I waited outside of her house and barely breathed until she was standing before me in one piece, with tears in her eyes and bruises on her cheek. So I told her who I was and what I wanted to do, and she said she would help me if I continued to save women who had been in her position. So I have. The girls I mentioned, Reya and Liesl. Young girls, friends since childhood. They were married off to the same man, a prince of some second-rate kingdom a few days north that had already gone through 3 wives. They have just found out they’re both pregnant, and fear raising children in the environment they live in.” 
Realization dawns on him. “You give them poison. The wine you make,” 
She hums in assent and silence falls between them once more, the princess dutifully letting Klaus turn the events of the night over and over in his head, finally slotting pieces together where they’d been misaligned for months. 
“Why?” He breathes out, his tone of disbelief earning her attention once more. “Why did you bring me there when you’ve barely spoken to me all these months? When you have known what I am and who my family is, and you knew I was suspicious from the very start, why have you just now shown me the truth?” 
Sighing, Nyxia looks down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. “I fear that my honesty is about to get me in trouble for the first time tonight.” 
“Just tell me,” He shakes his head pleadingly. “Please.” 
“Death consumes your very soul, Klaus,” Her voice takes on a distant tone, one he recognizes more than any fondness or humor she’s shown throughout the night. It’s the way she’d spoken to him since he first arrived, down to that very morning in the throne room, overlooking preparations for their wedding. “It is a fire that burns you from the inside out. And because of that fire, there is a shadow on you. And in that shadow, I exist. I see parts of you that you likely would not share with me, and for good reason.” 
Klaus can’t help the way he flinches, shifting away from her on the bench. She looks unsurprised at this particular reaction, but her fingers twitch like she’s going to reach out for him again. 
She doesn’t. 
“I have known you much longer than you have known me, and for that, I apologize. When you first arrived, I was still hesitant to believe what I had felt, and I– I am much different in the daylight. I am at my weakest when the sun is out, and that has never changed. But– other things have.” 
“Your father–”
“He is not my father,” She cuts him off, voice reverting to that cold indifference for a split second. “Once upon a time, he was a man. A king. But he was not a kind man, let alone a kind king. So I took the darkness in his mind, and I collapsed it from within. I made him hollow with it, and now he is but a puppet. A face to put on our currency, so that I may do as I please without so much attention. My people remember the cruel man, and they remember what I did for them. That is why I have their respect. Their loyalty. Trust breeds trust.” 
Klaus’s jaw clenches. “And when you decide you’re ready to become Queen one day, and I become a King, will you also make me into a puppet? Will I be nothing but a conduit of political jargon made to distract people from your loopholes?” 
Nyxia’s eyes burn, but they are dark. Almost black. 
“I did not bring you here to make you a puppet, Niklaus,” 
“Then why did you bring me here? Tell me, Nyxia. Tell me the truth.” 
“I brought you here because I want to protect you,” 
Klaus’s lip curls in a snarl and he stands up, cloak billowing around him. He turns at the feeling of a slight breeze and finds himself looking at the castle from a high distance, and he wonders if he’d been in such shock that he hadn’t noticed their uphill hike, or if this was another one of her tricks. 
Clenching his jaw, he turns to look down at her. “I do not need protecting, Princess. I have done nothing but protect myself and my family for hundreds of years.” 
“I know that, Klaus,” She spits out, looking as angry as he feels. Both of them are stubborn to a fatal degree. “But I want you to let me do it anyway!” 
Klaus lets out a harsh breath through his nose, turning to look away from her as his chest heaves with frustrated breaths. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion practically slaps him in the face as it settles over him and he finds his racing thoughts finally slowing down, seeming to process in his mind after the eventful night. 
“I understand that this has all been unexpected,” She starts, voice carefully neutral in the wake of both of their tempers. “And I will not blame you for being upset. But trust me when I say that I have your best interests in heart, for you and your family.” 
“I’m to trust you after you’ve shown me only a fraction of the truth?” 
Her soft look has shuttered away when he looks at her again. “I told you,” She whispers, voice quiet but certainly not weak with how thick it was around the emotion clenching around her windpipe. “That I was putting all of my trust into you the moment I told you what I am. The danger that I have thrust upon you and myself just by sharing all of this with you is endless. I have bared my soul to you in a single night, Klaus Mikaelson, and then you spit in my face by asking me if I am trustworthy.” 
“Nyxia,” 
She stands from the bench abruptly, pulling the hood of her cloak back up over her head. “We should go. I don’t want to run into the guards at the shift change.” 
“Nyxia, just–”
“We’re leaving,” She cuts him off, not looking back to see if he’s following after her as she stalks off towards the gates she’d opened for him, just for him, moments ago. “Either join me, or find your own way back.” 
Klaus pulls his own hood up and is quick to fall into step a few paces behind her because he isn’t nearly stupid enough to think that their easygoing atmosphere from earlier is still lingering. All because he couldn’t stop the traitorous beating of his heart and the way his skin crawled at the thought of entrusting the safety of his family to anyone else. 
She is going to be family soon enough, though. If she’ll still have him, that is. 
────── 
The tension in the castle is thick for a few days before it’s suddenly dampened with something painful. 
Rain begins to pour and does not stop for three days straight. Most foot traffic that is in and out of the castle for wedding planning is put on pause at the King’s order. Not worth risking the safety and integrity of any person or thing for one wedding. 
Klaus doesn’t see or hear from Nyxia for those three days, and on the fourth day of heavy downpours, of him being stuck in the library with his brother or listening to his sister drone on about a particularly handsome guard, he breaks. He walks the path the sentry had taken him down into the East Wing of the castle and knocks on the thick wooden door, tilting his head just to hear the heart beating faintly on the other side of it. It’s the only reason he even knows she’s alive, and he can’t stop the relief that soothes his nerves. 
It doesn’t manage to get rid of the cloud of guilt that’s been hanging above his head since that night in the orchard, nor does it make him want to turn around and leave. 
“Princess?” His voice is low, but he knows she’ll hear it if she’s listening. “I was just…” 
He trails off, unsure of what excuse to offer up for his impromptu visit. A lie, a half-truth. The whole truth. 
It’s the least he could do in return, offer her honesty. Since he threw hers right back in her face four nights ago. 
“May I come in, please?” 
Silence follows his question, but when he pushes on the door slightly, it creaks open, and he steps through as quickly as possible, not willing to take the chance that it was a fluke. He’s greeted with darkness broken up by dim firelight, and his eyes take a moment to adjust, that concern inside of him chipping away at his pride. 
“Princess?” He asks again, voice low in the dim room. His brows twitch on his forehead, pulling together. “Nyxia?” 
There’s a shift of fabric from the four-poster bed a few feet in front of him, and he can see the orange glow in the room the moment she turns to face him. 
Even in the poor lighting, he can see the sunken shadows of her face and the way the stars in her eyes have gone dull. 
“Nyxia?” He nearly gasps her name as he rushes to her bedside, dropping to his knees beside it as he takes in her sickly features. “What’s happened to you?” 
She lets out a shaky breath that sounds like it hurts. “Sometimes… sometimes I let them take too much,” 
Confusion passes over him momentarily before a realization hits him. “The loopholes… this place… it drains you, doesn’t it?” 
She nods where her head is pressed into the pillow. 
He lifts a trembling hand to her cheek, brushing invisible dirt off of her cheek. He can feel the clammy sweat tainting her skin, the fever roaring in her veins. How odd it must be to be an immortal creature taken down by something comparable to a cold. 
“Why?” He shakes his head, genuine disbelief coating the word as he watches his betrothed wheeze out a few more breaths. “Why do you let them do this? Why do you do this?” 
She smiles and there's a tired pull to it, and she leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “People are so scared of me,” Her voice is impossibly soft, so unfamiliar, and yet he feels that ache in his chest, the desire to hear it more. To hear her more. “They are scared of everything. The least I can do is make my darkness feel safer.” 
He thinks it shatters something in him, to hear her grand reasoning behind everything. To hear that underneath that cold exterior, and the soft one, too, the woman before him just wants people to feel safe in her shadows. She wants them to leave behind lives of unhappiness, to not feel fear when the moon rises in the sky and stars hang over their heads. She doesn’t want them to fear the thought of a monster under their bed but rather feel protected by it. By her. 
She wants to do that for him. For his family. And he’d practically laughed in her face. 
A shame buries itself deep in him, and he finds himself lurching forward slightly, face hovering above hers to keep her attention while she loses her lucidity before his eyes. “What can I do? What can I do to make this better?” 
She reaches a hand up from beneath her blankets and rests it atop his. “Stay. Just stay with me, please,” 
He nods and holds back more words he’s simply not ready to say yet. Reluctantly leaves her side for a moment to bring a chair to her bedside, and once again intertwine their hands together. 
He watches her fall asleep and continues watching her well into the night. It doesn’t feel like a chore, or anything of the sort. He thinks he’d be content to spend a few years of his eternity just sitting here with her. 
────── 
It takes another four days for Nyxia to be able to get out of bed without feeling weak. In those days she regains a bit of that life back into her eyes, and Klaus is there to see every speck of it grow. He sees the shadows get darker again, not as faded and murky as they seemed to be when she was in the worst of it. It makes him happy in a way that he wouldn’t have ever expected it to. 
They spend those four days together in a bubble of their own, with small touches shared between each other. Lingering glances and longing looks are shared from across the dining table while they share meals with his family and the king. 
He doesn’t know if all of it means he’s forgiven for his harsh words in the orchard. He doesn’t let himself hope for anything, because he’s not sure if he deserves it after everything. 
It’s a particular train of thought he hasn’t let come to fruition for his own sanity. Instead, he’s relished in the freshly budding relationship between him and his wife-to-be. The partnership that’s being created. The friendship.
He finds himself in the library that remains hidden behind one, nondescript door that opens up to high ceilings, and endless bookshelves. The first time she’d taken him to see it, he’d spent the entire evening looking through the books, getting lost in the history books she had in her collection. 
As the days go by, he finds himself there more and more, and it seems that Nyxia’s in the same boat. 
Hands skimming against the worn spines of the books, Klaus’s mind travels near and far, and he lets his imagination run wild. It’s a rare occurrence, this vulnerability that he’s found within these walls, beneath Nyxia’s care, so he can’t be faulted for being caught off guard when a book slides out from the shelf on the other side and he snaps his gaze up to meet her amused one. 
There’s no doubt she misses the slight intake of breath he does at her sudden presence, but she gives him the grace of not saying anything about it out loud. Her face is framed between the two shelves and she grins widely, unabashedly, in the shadows of the books. “Hiding in the art history books again, Niklaus?” 
He ducks his head, glancing at the lone book he is holding in his hands, a finger shoved between pages to hold his place while he searches through other titles. Lifting his eyes back up to meet hers once more, he shrugs a shoulder, poorly feigning obliviousness. 
“It’s alright, at least I always know where I can find you,” She quickly dismisses his uncharacteristic shyness, and he’s once again grateful for it, even if he’s not sure if she does it for her own sake or his. “I wanted to ask you a question, actually, about the wedding.” 
He raises a brow, not hiding his surprise. She rarely brings the wedding up to him these days, and with the celebration in just five days, the castle staff was bustling about more than ever. Klaus only ever looked at the gold and white decor lining the throne room in passing, usually hurrying through to track Nyxia down somewhere in the castle, or dodging his brother’s increasingly personal questions about the state of his relationship with the Princess.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about the wedding, despite Nyxia rarely saying anything to him about it. He found himself wondering just how the day would transpire as it drew closer, wondered how all of the fittings he did for his garments a while back would look like in the end, and wondered endlessly about just what Nyxia would be walking down the aisle in. 
“It’s about the guest list,”
Her voice pulls him from the frequent thought and he bites the tip of his tongue in silent reprimand. Clearing his throat quietly, he looked at her. “What of it? I thought invitations were sent out months ago,” 
“They were,” She confirms, nodding once. Her voice takes on a hint of that diplomatic lilt she likes to pull out of thin air with him when she feels she’s approaching a difficult subject. It instantly puts his nerves on edge, but he tries not to get defensive. If there’s anything he’s learned with her, it’s that he’ll do nothing but regret his knee-jerk reaction to bare his teeth and snarl at the first feeling of danger coming his way. He knows just as well that Nyxia would never put him in danger on purpose. 
“I was just wondering if there was anyone you wanted to invite,” She continued, glancing away from him. “I know Rebekah and Elijah will be there, of course, but is there anyone else you want to come?” 
He’s quick to respond, barely even thinking about it. “I’ve become familiar enough with your subjects that they’re plenty for me, I think. Especially the women coming from the loophole. I’m looking forward to seeing them,” 
Her face softens with an endless fondness he’s not quite sure what to do with. Any time she offers it up to him, he does his best to just hold it gently in between them, like it was a cloud threatening to seep through his fingers and dissipate into nothingness. 
“I am as well,” She smiles briefly before her face falls back into a placating look. “But you’re sure you don’t have any friends you might not have thought of? Or any more family? I’m sure you’ve… outlived… most of your ancestors, but perhaps there’s a distant cousin that was never turned? Or your… your parents, perhaps?” 
Klaus instantly realizes the true nature of her question, and once again has to fight off the urge to snap at her and make her go away. It’s an easier path to take than explaining just why his parents won’t be in attendance at their wedding or part of their futures at all, and why he wouldn’t want them to in the first place, but he finds himself wanting to try. It’s the least he could do for her.
“No, my– my parents are no longer– an option,” He says carefully, brows furrowing as he revisits centuries-old aches and stabs of pain laced with a childish hurt. “I wouldn’t want them here even if they were.” 
Her face twists with concern before she disappears from the side of the shelf, and Klaus’s eyes widen momentarily before he hears the click of her shoes growing closer. She rounds the corner of the bookshelf swiftly, coming to stand before him with a practiced look of understanding on her face meant to convey her state of heeding. 
“You know by now that I’m a bastard,” She nods. “Even though my father was already unhappy with how I came about, it worsened when he learned my father was the leader of the werewolf pack in our village. I wasn’t just a bastard, but a monster, then, too. I faced abuse from my father my entire life, and my mother always let it happen, or encouraged it, if only to save herself from facing his wrath for her own mistakes.” 
Silently, she reaches out and grabs the book from his hand, setting it flat on the shelf in favor of grabbing his hands in hers. 
“When my youngest brother Henrik was killed by the pack my true father was a part of, my mother was overcome with the grief of losing a child and that’s when she turned us. When she made the spell to make us into these undying creatures who survive off of blood. She and Mikael killed us all and we were forced to transition when we woke.” 
Squeezing his hands, Nyxia shakes her head. “You don’t have to go on, Klaus.” 
He shakes his head, waving off her apology. “It’s alright. I want you to know the truth,” Her already soft face opens more and she takes another minute step towards him, closing the distance between them a bit more. “With everything heightened after my transition, I was so overcome with my anger that I lost control and I– I killed her. I killed my mother.”
“Nik,” 
“I regretted it as soon as I did it. And I buried her body where no one would find it, and I told my family that she was killed by our father. Because in my head, she was. She let him abuse me, she let him turn even a fraction of that hatred onto Rebekah and Elijah, and the rest of them, and I– I truly hated her for it. What good of a mother was she if she could just watch that happen to her children?” 
He clenches his jaw and tilts his head slightly, biting down the bitterness that still swims in his veins all these years later. “Mikael knew what I did, though. I don’t know how, but he always knew. And I– I don’t know what’s happened to him, I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, like us or something else, but I– I do not want him here. I wouldn’t want him here, no matter the situation. I never want someone like Mikael to find this place, because a single touch from him would destroy it all.” 
Nyxia shakes her head immediately, eyes wide and full of something that transcends simple fondness. “He wouldn’t, Niklaus. I wouldn’t let him ruin it. This is my home– this is our home. I won’t let him ruin it for you.” 
Klaus wished he could believe her. And he knows she knows that. And he knows they both know it’s truly got nothing to do with her, and everything to do with the fact that his father has ruined his life at every turn since the day he was born. It’s just what he does. He could so easily take this beautiful thing Klaus has been given and tarnish it with a single touch. 
“I had to inherit these shadows, you know?” She says suddenly, taking him off guard. “I wasn’t born with them, not really. I was born with power, I was made of this power. But in order to have them at the capacity at which they exist now, I had to wait for my mother to die. She was my best friend. But I think that made it all the worse when I had to watch her wither away through each century, until one day, she became nothing more than the night sky we came from. Afterward, I was so overcome with grief that I didn’t even acknowledge the shadows. I wanted no part of it, not without her,” 
She huffs out a small, wry laugh and shakes her head. “But they are very stubborn. They persisted, and one day, they brought me into the shadows and showed me the light that exists within them. And after that day, I started doing things differently. It’s been a long time since then, but I still remember all of those feelings like it was yesterday. And I know that because you have been given the gift and the curse of eternity just as I have, that you understand it like no one else does. So you must believe me when I say this, husband, but it will not be like this forever. And I am making you a promise now that your– that Mikael will not ever make his mark in my kingdom. You and I will live in peace for the rest of our days, with our people and no one can take that from us. Do you hear me? Do you hear me, Niklaus?” 
He nods, clenching his teeth together as he swallows around the concrete lump in his throat. “Of course. Of course I do,” 
“Good,” She nods once. “You can trust me. I swear it on my life.” 
He nods again and she offers him a small smile, like she’s wary to shift the graveness that had settled over them into something else. He jostles their conjoined hands, and her eyebrows tick together, silently coaxing his words out. 
“How did you do it?” He asks quietly. “How did you find the light when you were surrounded by the darkness?” 
Her eyes suddenly burned with ferocity, an ancient thing that had roots buried deep inside of her. A small fraction of her power. “I carved it out of the shadows with my bare hands and I did not stop until my fingers bled. Until my nails were cracked and my body screamed for me to stop. And I would do it again if it meant I kept you and your family safe. Understand that, Klaus. If nothing else, understand that I’ll bleed for you.” 
Klaus isn’t sure what to do in the face of her devotion. He feels as if it should be the other way around– him worshiping her, instead of this blood-promise she’s made to him. He isn’t sure what to do or say, but he is sure of one thing; he loves her. And he would bleed for her just as well. 
────── 
The morning of their wedding, a low hum of activity overtakes the calm of the castle and does not falter, well into the early hours of afternoon. Klaus was summoned from his rooms just minutes after the sun was up and brought to the seamstresses that he’d seen increasingly over the months and put into the intricate suit made specifically for him. 
His trousers were plain, simple, and tucked carefully into shoes that almost felt like armor. His surcoat was donned with intricate, weaving lines of gold that gleamed in the sunlight, woven into the fabric like they were the very veins in his body. Like it was a showcase of the life that flowed through him, scorching like the sun for all eternity. When he was draped with a mantle of white fur and more golden details along the draped fabric, he looked in the lone mirror before him and felt, for the first time, that he was truly a king. And just after that thought, he couldn’t help but wonder what his queen looked like. 
When he is escorted to the throne room, he can hear the dozens of heartbeats waiting on the other side of the doors before him and he only has a moment to breathe before the doors are swung open and the guests are standing, turning to face him. 
His blue eyes immediately shoot to the front of the room, where the king awaits his presence at the end of the aisle, where his brother and sister stand on either side of the large arbor, looking at him with an odd pride gleaming in their eyes. 
Bracing himself, he lifts his chin slightly and walks forward, his hands clasped in front of him as he meets the eyes of strangers, all watching him like they’re waiting for him to show his true colors. When he nears the end of the aisle, he looks over to his left and sees Theresé standing there, with a row of familiar faces lined up beside her, and he can’t stop the small twitch of his lips when she meets his gaze head-on with a smile that radiates pure excitement. 
He tears his gaze away from the women and children of the loophole and meets the king’s eyes, exchanging a nod with the man as he takes his place at the center of the room. He turns his head towards the doors he’d come through moments ago, and finds himself holding his breath as he waits for them to open once more, and reveal his bride. 
He prepares himself for the sight of her, but when the doors swing open, guards standing on either side of her, he thinks himself a fool for ever thinking he’d be prepared for the sight of her dressed in a white gown that trails behind her in a sea of golden embroidery that gleams just as his does. Like the life that burns in him also burns in her, despite the way her shadows carve out the angles of her face, the bridge of her nose. 
He knew her dress would compliment him, of course, but he hadn’t anticipated just how much it would take his breath away, to see himself standing before a kingdom, waiting for her slow, graceful steps to come to a stop as she neared him. 
Her own fur-lined mantle was just as carefully draped over her, and it went down the length of her train, the fabric moving along with her as if it were just water rippling along rocks. Slow, elegant, natural. Like she was born to be this. 
For the first time, her arms are bare before him, and the skin below her jaw is as well. Her unexpected bareness exposes things he hadn’t known were hiding beneath her long sleeves and high collars. The shadows that run in her blood wrap around her arms, weaving like vines up across her chest and down into unknown territory, still hidden from his sight and touch. He swallows roughly at the sight of the image she creates before him, her head tilted back ever so slightly just to maintain his gaze as she steps up before him, her hands immediately reaching to lay in his proffered palms. 
He can’t find his voice in time to tell her that she looks beautiful. To make vows to her before they’ve even started. 
The king clears his throat quietly, raising his hand in a silent gesture that has the guests taking their seats once more. 
“People of Riverend, we gather here to witness the joining of two souls. To celebrate a love that withstands life, death, and everything in between. A love forged in shadows and cradled by the moon, that blossoms beneath the sun. It is my honor to stand before you all and mark the start of our future here in these cherished lands beneath their incoming rule.” 
The king shifts, turning slightly to look at Klaus directly. “Lord Mikaelson, repeat after me: I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours, and vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars,” 
Klaus swallows and wets his lips, meeting Nyxia’s gleaming eyes. “I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours,” His voice trembles slightly, and her fingers press into his wrist, squeezing reassuringly. “And vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars.” 
Nyxia mirrors his swallow, seemingly biting back her own emotion. “I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours,” Her pulse stutters beneath his fingertips, and his blood burns with it. “And vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars.” 
“As witnessed by your people, do you both promise to serve them to the best of your abilities? To bleed with them, or for them, shall it one day be necessary? To feed and clothe them, and wash the dirt off of their feet, should they ever ask you to?” 
They both nod once. “We do,” 
The King mirrors their nod and continues. “May this marriage be protected by the powers that be. May it never bend or break, or waver in even the strongest of storms. May you both know one another’s love like no other. May the darkness protect you as it has protected others since the dawn of time,” 
The king takes in a short breath and shifts, holding his hands up for his palms to face the sunlight gleaming in through the stained glass windows. “By the power entrusted unto me, I bless this marriage for the years to come. I now pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Mikaelson, you may kiss–” 
“Stop this nonsense!” 
Gasps echo throughout the throne room and Klaus’s blood freezes as his head snaps over, his gaze locking onto his father’s immediately. 
The man at the end of the aisle takes a step forward, a mean smirk on his face. “Is it not utter blasphemy to make a king out of a bastard?” 
Klaus breathes out a breath that shudders in his lungs painfully, and he looks past Nyxia to find Rebekah standing frozen in her place, tears bubbling in her eyes at the sight of Mikael. He doesn’t need to look at Elijah to know that the man is likely boiling with barely stifled rage. 
Mikael takes another step forward and Klaus flinches back instinctively, despite the distance that stretches between them. 
The man laughs at the sight, and Klaus finally looks at Nyxia, only to find her glaring at his father like her very gaze could burn him into ash. 
“You have no business being here, Mikael,” Elijah’s voice bites out the words from behind him and he hears his brother take a step down, quick to be a buffer between him and Klaus. “Leave now, and you will not face any consequences.” 
Mikael laughs again. “And from whom would these consequences be dealt? You? Or perhaps Rebekah?” The girl flinches, tears skittering down her flushed cheeks at his ridicule. “Certainly not Klaus. He’s not capable of it.” 
“It will be me,” Nyxia’s voice rings out, firm and cold in a way that Klaus hasn’t heard it before, not even in their worst moments. “You will not speak of my husband in that manner. I’ll have your head for treason if you’re not careful.” 
“You’d take my head for him?” Mikael’s brows raise like he’s actually surprised at the prospect. “I hate to break it to you, girl, but he is nothing. He comes from no high standing, he has no riches and nothing to give you in exchange for all that you give him. Whatever he has told you in those regards is a filthy lie. That’s all he is– a liar.” 
Hot tears burn at the back of Klaus’s eyes and he struggles to find his voice again. 
Nyxia drops his hands and Klaus fronts at the loss of her touch, only to reach for her as she turns and steps towards Mikael, unwavering beneath his hateful glare. “Don’t,” He gets out, pulling her back by her arm. “Do not go near him.” 
She wrenches her arm from his hold, looking at him apologetically before she hardens her gaze once more and faces his father. “You come to my kingdom and interrupt my wedding to spew nonsense. You have the looks of a crazed man, Mikael. I should have my sentries imprison you until I find it worth my time to sentence you.” 
He grins like her words are a challenge. “I’d like to see you try, Princess,” He spits her title out and before anyone can blink, he holds the tip of a dagger beneath her chin. 
Gasps of fear ring out through the room and Klaus stumbles forward, stopped only by Elijah holding him just out of their father’s reach. “Do not touch her!” He growls out the words, black veins crawling beneath his eyes, earning a mocking chuckle from the man. 
“Don’t tell me you actually love her, Niklaus,” 
Klaus says nothing, which is answer enough, and it earns another round of derisive laughter from the man. 
“What a ridiculous thing, love,” He tsks his tongue, shaking his head as if scolding his bastard son. “Nothing but a weakness to someone like you who is already softened by his childish emotions. It’s nice to know that you’re still such a disappointment, Niklaus.” 
Klaus lunges for the man but is once again stopped by his brother. 
“Klaus,” It’s Nyxia who says his name, which calms the racing of his heart in his ears, and he looks at her desperately. “Do you trust me?” 
His brows furrow deeply, lines twisting onto his pale skin. “What?” 
She gives him another look that conveys an apology he doesn’t need, and he feels his stomach swoop with fear. 
“Nyx,” He breathes out, eyes wide as he starts to shake his head. 
She rolls her eyes away from him like it pains her to do so, and looks to his father, uncaring of the tip of the dagger digging into her chin. “I told you I would bleed for you, Klaus. And I shall.” 
She takes one long step forward and latches her hand around the handle of the dagger and digs her nails into Mikael’s skin, earning a grunt of annoyance from the man. In the blink of an eye, a cloud of black consumes them, and the last thing Nyxia hears is Klaus’s yell for her to stop. 
Her hold on Mikael falters and they fall away from each other, thrown into shadows and thrown apart in the same breath. 
It’s been centuries since she’s been here. Encased in nothingness, something that cannot even be considered night because it is so dark it does nothing but swallow the life that enters it. 
She hears Mikael’s breathing through the darkness and hears him struggle to find footing as she does the same. 
“You,” She speaks out, voice echoing into the void. Swarming around them like a crow’s call. “You have tarnished his soul. You are the darkness that exists inside of him, and I am going to rip every inch of life out of you even if it kills me.” 
“Such meaningful threats,” The man speaks back, voice tinged in that smugness that sets her nerves alight with rage. “To think that you have fallen in love with a man like Niklaus. You could have such potential if you weren’t clinging to frivolous emotions.” 
“You underestimate me, Mikael. You mock me, even now, when you are surrounded by something that does not exist without me and my power. It is your arrogance that will kill you, and I will offer your heart on a platter to my husband as a wedding gift.” 
She lunges for the sound of him in the void, grunting as they blindly swing for each other, slamming fists and swinging daggers over and over with no sign of stopping. 
She doesn’t know how long she was in this place the last time. Doesn’t know how long they’ve been here now. It could be mere seconds, it could be years. Nothing exists in this place, especially not time. 
Blood from a cut that is already healed trails down her cheek, she can feel the wetness as she brushes her fingers along her skin. She can hear Mikael’s ragged breaths, her endless onslaught of pain catching up to him. 
“He’s an abomination,” Mikael spits out. “Not just in name, but as a creature. It is not enough that he has no soul as this undead thing, but he has that mutt inside of him, waiting to be unleashed. He doesn’t deserve to live.” 
“You don’t get to decide that,” She bites back, lips curling in a snarl. “But I do. And he will live with me until the Earth takes its last breath. And you will never take anything from him again, so long as I am at his side. You will never hurt your children again. I am taking back the darkness that is inside of you. I am taking the very air from your lungs,”
She tackles him blindly, knees pinning him down as she presses her hands roughly down onto his chest, her fingertips itching with heat as she does exactly that. “You will know pain like you’ve never known before where you are going. And with everything in me, I swear that I will not let there be a day that goes by that you do not suffer.” 
The shadows that warm her skin crawl as she takes his life little by little, and she can feel his breaths begin to shallow with every word she speaks. 
“Let your last thought on this Earth be the knowledge that I love your son, Mikael. And not even you can take that from him.” 
A scream tears from her throat as she lifts her hands off of his chest and slams them back down, his body disappearing beneath her as if it had never existed. A burst of energy explodes from her and she nearly falls onto her face, catching herself on her hands and knees as it blows around her like a gust of wind. 
She grits her teeth, trying to catch her breath as the void grows smaller around her, trying to swallow her whole as it had Mikael. But she had let it have Mikael. She would not let it have her. Not when she had something to go back to. Someone. 
“No,” She bites out, jaw clenched tight enough that her bones creak. “You will let me go back.” 
She digs her nails into the nothingness beneath her hands, skin scraping off at the fight it puts back. She lifts her hands from the void and brings them back down, clawing at it like a rabid animal. 
“Let me out,” She says. Demands. “Let me out!” 
Her voice echoes on a yell and she feels a scream build deep in her chest as she clenches her hands into fists and brings them down onto the ground, and she can feel it begin to crack beneath her force. 
The ache in her hands grows with each hit but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, not even as the first cracks of light bleed through. 
With just that sliver of light, she can see the broken skin of her hands and it’s such a guttural reminder of her past that she raises her hands once more and brings them down onto the shattering void with a strength she did not know she possessed. 
All at once she is thrown out of the darkness and she flinches at the burst of brightness that encases her so suddenly. The sound of startled gasps and fearful noises makes her stumble and she tries and subsequently fails to get to her feet, her bloodied hands smearing along the pristine white aisle she had walked down. 
Arms encase her and she turns her head to meet Klaus’s gaze as he pulls her into his chest, eyes wide in fear at the sight of her blood, no doubt mixed with some of Mikael’s that likely splattered onto her at some point in their tussle. 
“Where did you go? What did you do?” He breathes out, eyes brimming with tears. “Where is Mikael?” 
She lets out a shuddering noise as she clings to him, staining his surcoat with blood. “I took it back,” She grits her teeth, fire burning in her eyes for a split second before her exhaustion wipes it out. “I took my darkness back from him, and I turned him into nothing.” 
Klaus makes a noise of grief that she knows is not for his father, but for the thought of her doing something he knows weakens her. 
“I’m alright,” She assures him, finally looking past him at her kingdom that watches on warily. “I’m alright, I promise.” 
Klaus holds onto her tighter like he’s scared she’ll disappear again, and she lets him as exhaustion weighs her down. 
She smiles suddenly, breathless and hopeful. “We aren’t finished here,” Her eyes shift to the king, who hurries towards them, kneeling slightly. “We were interrupted.” 
Klaus mirrors her smile, much more reserved even as his fear dissolves. “We were, weren’t we?”
“Finish it,” She looks up at the king from her place in Klaus’s lap in the aisle. “Please, finish it.” 
The king barely takes a moment before he lets his voice carry like he had before, unwavering as if nothing had happened at all. “Without further ado, Lord Mikaelson, you may kiss your bride.” 
Klaus barely lets him finish speaking before he kisses her, stealing the breath from her lungs as she gasps into it. Starlight burns in her and she raises her hand to gently cup his cheek, pulling him into her for one hard press of their lips before she pulls away, letting her hand fall from his cheek to rest against his heart. 
She turns her face into his neck and whispers into his skin, her breath making goosebumps grow in its wake. “My name,” She says. “I want you to have it.” 
He echoes it back to her softly, like he’s cradling it in his hands, and she looks up at him with stars in her eyes. 
The king speaks from above them, an excitement laced in his voice as he lifts his hands above his hand. “It is my honor to introduce to you for the first time, the Prince and Princess of Riverend!” 
Cheers burst around them, and Klaus dips his head down to hide his smile in her hair, and she clings to him just a bit tighter, her eyes fluttering. 
“Let us celebrate!” The king exclaims, another round of cheers echoing after his words. 
She pulls back slightly to look at Klaus, smiling. “I love you, Klaus,” 
He lets out a breath like she’s knocked it out of him. “I love you,” He hesitates before saying her name like he’s worried she’ll take it back from him. “I'll love you until the end of time. Never doubt that." 
"I won't." 
127 notes · View notes
sp5culation · 4 months
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crk is so weird.
you have a celestial being made out of discarded stardust who believed himself to be worthless and everything to be meaningless all his life when compared with his sister, who was crafted out of “perfect” moonlight, who struggled with multiple existential crises and figuring out who he really was by embarking on a journey across the galaxy and finding his purpose again like some coming of age movie.
you have the triple cone cup with a demigod who thought he had to hold himself back forever but hated the shackles on his wrists and the cutscenes with his breakdowns and internal conflict and the mask of strength he doesn’t believe in, himself; the paladin who was trained to win every battle, thought she had to continue on like that, and struggled with self-esteem and being not good enough; the one born without a talent but worked so hard to get to the top and hides his insecurities behind a smirk and a confident façade, who is a beautifully executed concept of a superiority-inferiority complex.
you have the yearning sea inspired by the moon’s gravitional pull in real life, that actually seems realistic yet so melancholic and fantasy-like and has such an impeccable aesthetic whilst being one of the most tragic, angst storylines of all time, and induces an ache in me i never knew i had.
and then you have fucking “when i wake up in the morning i go to brush my teeth :D”
this is when i get reminded of the target demographic and that the characters are but fictional talking cookies meant for a gacha game
194 notes · View notes
stuckwthem · 4 months
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soother | eddie munson x reader
summary: eddie helps you calm down when you're starting to have a anxiety crises.
word count: 1.5k
i was a bit anxious so i just wrote a little blurb :)
.。.:*✧ 🧺🫐🤍 ✧*:.。.
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in between cleaning chores in your room, you find yourself curled up against the wall side of the bed, quiet and static. to be honest, you don't even remember how it started, the whole overthinking process that led you to a motionless state. the feeling of an unknown guilt, sadness and even a bit of anger consumes you out of the blue putting you through a loop of every silly mistake you could ever done. even though it's uninvited, it's a familiar feeling. anxiety — a useless, chaotic thing that has been haunting you the past few months, or years.
today is supposed to be different. eddie is set to arrive at your house in a few minutes, ready for a day filled with shared meals and quality time. it's his day off, and his desire to spend every minute with you extends beyond stolen kisses during his work breaks throughout the week. you don’t answer the door when he knocks, which he finds odd. eddie's curiosity lingers, you always welcome him with a delightful smile and open arms. so, he waits a few minutes until he’s using his spare key. you hear eddie entering down the hallway, and a thin line of relief makes the queasy feeling lessen.
he enters the room, all smiles and excited to spend the day with you when he sees how tiny and muffled you look on that bed. he’s worried, you don’t move or say anything, an unusual thing for when he’s entering your room, but you don't seem like sleeping when he hears the sniffling.
“baby?” eddie asks, approaching gingerly your body. he leaves his tiny package of goodies he brought you on your bedside table, and sits down on the bed, and now, closely, realizes you’re shivering a little. his calloused hand goes to your leg and then goes up until your arm, caressing it, but you don't turn around. instead, you try to stop crying, to not look weak or just a crybaby in front of your boyfriend. c’mon, you’re a grown up now! but it gets harder to suppress your tears when he’s there, and you're swept away by a wave of emotion that you can’t even comprehend.
he lies next to you, putting his head on between your shoulders and head, kissing your temple gently. eddie carefully takes his shoes off while getting comfortable around you, and you can just hear the stomping of his boots hitting the floor, and it's a strangely comforting sound, knowing he’s gonna stick around.
“wanna tell me what's wrong?” he whispers, not demanding, but there's a genuine preoccupation on his tone, a subtle acknowledgment of the recurring battles with anxiety that he's witnessed before.
“nothing” you whisper back, your voice raspy and tired. “just…i don’t know, it seems like there's too much in my head and…i can’t…” you struggle to cry and breathe and talk at the same time. eddie nods with his head towards you, with a knowing gaze, squeezing your arms so you know it's alright, you can take your time. but there's nothing to say, just a big knot on your throat and a heavy feeling on your chest.
"it's okay, it's okay," eddie assures you, and suddenly he's babying you, gently pulling your body into his chest, almost as if you were a fragile, precious thing. his fingers gently run through your hair, brushing a few strands away from your damp face, and then he embraces you with his other arm, intertwining your fingers as he reaches your cold hand. eddie takes both hands - his and yours - to your chest and takes a deep breath. "come on, breathe with me. will you, sweetheart?"
and you try to follow his request. your mind seems to become less clouded, gradually less noisy, and you stay that way for at least fifteen minutes, in complete silence, lying on his chest as he helps you to calm down. it's comfortable and familiar, something that makes you feel at home, as if you could break down all your barriers and never leave.
as eddie holds you close, the rise and fall of his chest becomes a calming rhythm, a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. his reassuring presence acts as a grounding force, bringing you back to this moment, to the present. the soft strokes of his fingers on your back provide a soothing cadence, creating a cocoon of comfort.
"it's all right," eddie murmurs softly, his breath a reassuring whisper against your ear. "you don't have to do this alone, sweetheart. i'm here for you, okay?"
his words echo through the quiet room, offering comfort and understanding. gradually the tension in your body begins to dissipate, replaced by a deep sense of security.
time seems to stand still as you lie there, wrapped in the warmth of eddie's embrace. the minutes stretch into an eternity, yet each passing moment brings a subtle ease to the turmoil within. it's as if eddie has created a haven where worries are momentarily set aside and you are enveloped in a sanctuary of shared breath and shared comfort.
"feeling a bit better?" eddie's voice is a soft murmur, breaking the silence without disturbing the stillness. you manage a nod, the weight on your chest lightening with each passing second.
eddie tilts his head and plants a soft kiss on your forehead.
“thank you, eds.” a breathy sound comes out your lips. you feel embarrassed, your whole face feels swollen now after crying and your head hurts bad now. you’re not ashamed because its eddie, no, he would never make you feel bad about showing your emotions, never. being vulnerable in front of him is easy, he’s your confident, after all. but the crippling anxiety makes you feel like a burden. “i’m sorry, i didn't want to ruin our day”
“hey, no no no, shh” eddie seems almost offended now, scowling at you.. he grabs your face, his two chocolate globes looking through yours, shaking his head. “our day just started, don’t say that. you didn’t ruin shit!”
“so-” you’re about to apologize when he stops you, giving your pout a kiss. a little laugh escapes when he catches you by surprise.
“no apologizing, you did nothing wrong.” eddie's voice is firm, dispelling any lingering doubts.
but he breaks his scowl into a big smile, showing his sweet dimples, and you can’t help it but reciprocate. its a weary and shaky smile, but he looks at you as if you just opened a window to a sunny day. encouraged by his genuine warmth, you let out a small chuckle, a release of tension that had been building within. his fingers, still gently intertwined with yours, offer a comforting squeeze.
"see, not ruined at all," eddie declares with a playful glint in his eyes, his tone lightening the mood. "now, how about we enjoy the rest of our day? what do you say, peach?"
it seems impossible, but eddie shows you colors brighter than they could be.he makes you feel loved, secure and like you can do no wrong. that makes you want to crawl towards him and simply fuse into one, cause no matter how close you were, never seemed enough. there's no gratitude in the world that could express the feeling, but you felt like god, the universe or whatever blessed force, made him just for you. healing every wound, taking any doubt.
you nod at him, a small positive sound coming from your lips, and he beams at you, loosening the embrace just a little to take the small bag you recognise from the bakery downtown, from the bedside table. from it he takes a glazed blueberry muffin, your favourite. as if he could predict you would need it.
“oh my god, i love you so much” you exclaim tenderly, sitting more comfortably to face the boy as he hands you the treat. you take it, feeling lighter and giggly again like a little kid.
you take a huge bite from it, closing your eyes as you did so, savoring the sweet and sour combination. you hum with pleasure, and hear a chuckle from eddie. between bites, you steal glances at the boy, who's watching you with an adoring gaze. you offer the muffin to him, but he refuses it, letting all the joy for you.
“here, there’s some…” he says, pointing to somewhere imaginary on your face, encouraging you to clean it. you follow his lead, attempting to clear away the nonexistent crumb, but you can’t seem to get it right, so he grabs your face again and with his thumb takes a trace of sugar, licks it off. you give him a weird grimace, a false expression of disgust, and with a mischievous grin, he mimics you. the room is now filled with laughter, a sweet melody that erases the lingering traces of anxiety. in this shared moment of lightness, you realize how eddie's presence transforms the ordinary into something extraordinary.
he can’t help himself when you look at him with those eyes, with such affection, passionate, staring at every little detail on his face, wondering how you could get so lucky, eddie has to break the little distance and meet your lips, tasting the sweetness of it, the memory of the glazed muffin awarding him with saccharin kisses.
you felt full. you and eddie in that room, or anywhere, really, you need nothing more.
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cosmerelists · 1 month
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Five Questions I I Have about the Cosmere that I'm Too Afraid to Ask
Well, except that I suppose I am asking them, right now. These questions haunt me specifically because I think they have answers and that I should know what they are.
1. What Are Highspren the Manifestation Of?
This one I will sincerely accept an answer for, if anybody (or everybody?) knows. Like, rainspren are rain and honorspren are honor and liespren are lies. I get all that. Are highspren, like...the concept of highness? Like being high in the air? Is that something that gets anthropomorphized? I've read the Coppermind page a bunch of times and it feels like it doesn't specifically say.
What are they??
2. How do the bridges work?
You can try to explain this to me if you'd like but I don't think I'll get it because, well, this one is probably down to my difficulty in picturing things like this. But I just don't understand how the manual bridges in Sadeas' army actually worked. Like, they are pushed across the gap, right? So they have to long enough that they don't just tip in halfway across. Are they just like triple the size of every gap? Also, when they get placed side to side so that a line of horses can run across them--wouldn't they have to be like right against each other so there aren't gaps? How do you do that if you have people holding them on both sides? Can you really push them together if they're that long and most of it is on the other side of the gap already? I just have never been able to picture it, even a little.
3. DO we know what caused the Recreance?
In one of my other posts I expressed a hope that we would learn what caused the Recreance, and several people commented that we knew already [SPOILERS]: that it was because the Radiants learned that their powers destroyed their last planet so they all gave up their oaths. But is that really...it? I don't mean to downplay the destruction of a planet but, like, the current Radiants know that too and none of them seemed even slightly tempted to give up their powers. I just feel like there must be more to it than that...right? Some other, more terrible secret? But is this just me missing the point?
4. Where does the joke about Szeth being good at ice skating come from??
This one drives me nuts because I'm sure I should know. I assume it's something from the Battle of Thaylen City when he was with Lift, but the Coppermind article doesn't say a whole lot about his part in that fight. And I just don't remember. And I'm too lazy to look it up. Please somebody save me.
5. Are there...holidays in the Cosmere?
This is one that's been in the back of my mind for a while. Like...I have no idea what the yearly holidays are on Roshar, or Scadrial, or really any of the planets. I'm not clear if people celebrate their birthdays with a party or go out to dinner on their wedding anniversaries or celebrate the new year. I guess maybe because the books are always taking place in crises? So there's no time for Kaladin to go shopping for a midwinter crab-turkey or whatever? Or for Vin to be buying balloons for Elend's big day? But seriously--do you folks know of any holidays that characters are said to celebrate in times of not-crisis?
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lvckyyz · 2 months
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athena’s cabin headcanon
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cabin’s song: the scientist - coldplay
goddess of wisdom and battle strategy
anyway, you’re very smart as expected
but not necessarily academic smart like people usually say. i believe athena’s children's main characteristic is questioning the world around them and not just having good grades in school
they want to know more than they did before and that’s what i think their mother wanted when she claimed you
personally i think you’re a better leader than children of zeus
you’re ambitious and won’t stop until you achieve your goals
and that bother people around you for some reason🤷‍♀️
athena always have an eye on you, honestly the pressure you’re under is insane
you’re either the most underrated person alive or the most respected one
i’d say you all love competitions
you can’t deal with your own mistakes
friends with cabin 1, 13, 17 and 20
you dream about changing the world but it’s too afraid of not following the rules
i think you all have a lot of existential crises
like i can imagine a children of athena knocking on cabin 15’s door at 3 am asking if they are all dreaming and their whole life is a simulation
athena’s kids have the weirdest architecture projects that just don’t follow physics laws
you wish you could’ve enjoyed your childhood better
and you’re constantly thinking that you are loosing time
probably someone already told you you’re too mature for your age
you have a thing for sad books, songs, films, …
all of you have a hidden talent for arts (athena was the goddess of some kind of arts together with apollo)
it would be so cool if cabin 6 had a magic book shelf that can have all the books already written in the world🥹
something i find beautiful about athena’s kids is how much respect they have for the others around them
you are always feeling overwhelmed
and you probably have your whole life planned
a/n: hey everyone!! i might not post a lot here on the next few weeks cause i’m going to travel and really wanted to avoid spending a lot of time in social media, hope you all understand it!💞✨🫶
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fatehbaz · 9 months
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On April 21, Ali Hussein Julood, a 21-year-old living in the Iraqi town of Rumaila, on the outskirts of one of the world’s largest oil fields, died from leukaemia. He was told by doctors that pollution from gas flared in the nearby field, which is operated by British Petroleum (BP), had likely caused his cancer. “Gas flaring” is a low-cost procedure used by oil companies to burn off the natural gas expelled during drilling. [...] [I]t also contributes to global warming [...]. Some of the pollutants released during this process, such as benzene, are known to cause cancers and respiratory diseases. Ali, who had been battling cancer for six years when he died, was only the latest victim of the environmental degradation caused by international oil companies like BP in Iraq.
In towns and villages near the country’s vast oil fields, thousands of other men, women and children are still living under smoke-filled skies and suffering avoidable health problems because company executives insist on putting profit before lives. [...]
[A] confidential report from the Iraqi health ministry recently obtained by the BBC blamed pollution from gas flaring, among other factors, for a 20 percent rise in cancer in Basra, southern Iraq between 2015 and 2018. A second leaked document, again seen by the BBC, from the local government in Basra showed that cancer cases in the region are three times higher than figures published in the official nationwide cancer registry.
Like many other problems and crises that are devastating the lives of ordinary Iraqis today, the chain of events that led to the poisoning of southern Iraq’s skies by international oil companies also started during colonial times.
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In the early 20th century, as its navy transitioned from coal to petrol, Britain found itself in increasing need of oil to run its empire and fuel its numerous war efforts. [...] In 1912, Britain formed the Turkish Petroleum Company (TPC) with the purpose of acquiring concessions from the Ottoman Empire to explore for oil in Mesopotamia. Following World War I, it brought modern-day Iraq under its own mandate [...]. By 1930, the TPC was renamed the Iraqi Petroleum Company (IPC) and was put under the control of a consortium made up of BP, Total, Shell and several other American companies. Together, they pushed for a series of “concession agreements” with the newly formed Iraqi government which would give them exclusive control of Iraq’s oil resources on pre-defined terms for long periods. By 1938, the IPC and its various subsidiaries had already secured the right to extract and export virtually all the oil in Iraq for 75 years. These concessions were granted to the IPC and its subsidiaries while Iraq was ruled by British-installed monarchs and under de facto British control. Thus the state had almost no negotiating power against the British-led consortium [...] In 1955, the Iraqi government started to voice its desire to use the gas being flared in Rumaila and Zubair for electricity generation. In 1960, while negotiating a concession with the IPC, then-Iraqi Prime Minister Abd al-Karim Qasim formally asked the company to let Iraq exploit the gas that it was not using. The same demand came up again and again [...], but IPC and its subsidiaries repeatedly turned the Iraqi government down. [...]
Following the 2003 invasion, the Iraqi oil industry was once again privatised as a result of pressure from the US and the International Monetary Fund (IMF). As was the case in the early 20th century, any negotiations on oil extraction rights took place when Iraq was still under foreign occupation [...]. When the process of auctioning off oil fields in southern Iraq began in 2008, the Iraqi government offered foreign oil companies long contracts of up to 25 years, reminiscent of the early concessions agreements with the IPC. These included stabilisation clauses, which insulated foreign companies from legal changes that might emerge over the course of their contracts. This meant that the companies were, and continue to be, unaffected by any environmental regulations passed by the Iraqi government to reduce pollution [...].
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Looking back at the development of the oil industry in southern Iraq makes apparent that the kind of pollution that killed Ali has been in the making for some 70 years. His death – like the deaths of many others who succumbed to pollution-related cancers in his country – was not an unavoidable tragedy, but the natural consequence of a long history of colonial violence and extractive capitalism.
Predatory colonial practices that began over a century ago caused southern Iraq’s vast oil reserves to be left under the sole control of foreign companies today – companies that over and over again put profit before the lives of the Iraqi inhabitants of the lands they exploit.
Ali’s death is yet more proof that colonial violence is far from over and that it has many different faces.
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Text by: Taif Alkhudary. “Southern Iraq’s toxic skies are a colonial legacy.” Al Jazeera (English). 12 June 2023. [Some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]
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dent-de-leon · 1 year
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Still trying to cope with the fact that Jester drew Caleb faceless—a mere shadow, a dark silhouette engulfed in flame—his favored element. His raw pain and regret. Caleb being lost in that burning fire, consumed by it. Staring up longingly into this spark of light just out of reach. It shows us his grief, his loss, his desire to atone. Even if the fault was never his own.
The Card of Fire: "Spark: Something is responsible for this. Maybe you. Maybe some asshole. Blaze: Sometimes there are consequences. Sometimes they hurt."
And then there’s Molly’s depiction of Caleb. Jester describes his card for us in the campaign: “The Magician. Molly drew this card for you, Caleb. It looks like you. You’re sitting in a room and all around you are strange orbiting lights. Veth is on the other side of the card. Well, Nott is. Isn’t that interesting?…Molly drew cards for all of us.”
In Molly’s own words from the Oracle of the Moon deck:
The Card of Exploration: "Tinkerer: Technology. Science. Progress. Discovery. The Magician: Magic, beyond mortal understanding."
It really comes down to fire versus light. Unlike the roaring blaze, The Magician shows these gently drifting lights. Warmth and comfort, illumination, fascination. Pure Magic. It's not the searing hate and raw destruction of fire. It's "the Card of Exploration"--self expression, creativity. Discovery, solace. A light to guide your way through the darkness.
We see this glimpse of how Molly finds the arcane alluring and captivating, yet it also escapes his understanding. There's something intrinsically interesting about Caleb Widogast that he can't quite figure out, that maybe he'll never be able to unravel. But he's enchanted by this unassuming wizard all the same.
Dancing Lights is just a cantrip, something Caleb could effortlessly cast a hundred times a day. But the little trick is still enough to dazzle Molly, to be worth committing to memory. There's something sweet about that to me. Caleb himself is quick to dismiss the rudimentary spell: "Anybody can make lights. Anybody can send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will." But to Molly, that one simple spark of magic is beautiful.
More than that, Molly draws Caleb the same way he sees him in his memories. With that some fondness and love that he reminisces on in the final battle with Lucien:
"Another kiss came to him like a tricky word just on the tip of the tongue, elusive yet tantalizing, though the sentiment felt real enough--a friend in crises emerging to a kiss on the forehead. A tender banishment. Caleb. Softness and light. Clammy skin under rough lips. Molly's nose brushing Caleb's hair... Those memories were gone. All of it was lost to him now. Kindness is never lost or forgotten."
Caleb. Softness and light. When Molly thinks of his Magician, that's how he truly feels. And we see it in his cards.
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Hi OFMD friends! I know we've been getting some hate here and on Twitter for focusing so much on the renewal campaign when actual crises are happening (I don't deny that and yes I do feel guilty sometimes). But as @jaskierx said (multiple times battling trolls, godspeed friend), you can care about multiple issues at the same time.
Yes, I donated to the HoisttheAds campaign through @renewasacrew.
I also donated a matching amount to Gift of the Givers , a disaster response NGO currently serving Somalia, Palestine, and Turkey, as well as the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund
I've been emailing HBO execs and support and sending them letters. I've also been calling and emailing my state representatives calling for a ceasefire in Gaza and aide to enter Palestine.
This is not any sort of proof or gloating about morality or whatever. This is just to say, you CAN care about multiple causes. You can care about a low-stakes one like a show, and high-stakes ones like pushing to end war crimes and genocide. There are 24 hours in a day and you don't see how someone is using them. Especially not when you're just looking at their Fandom blog and getting mad when they post about Fandom things.
Take a breath, drink some water, and keep fighting for what's right for the world and what you want for yourself. It's OK.
Any hate on this post will be ignored and blocked ✌️
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