#I’m really curious as to how the runes will be activated this time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ziracona · 1 year

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We’ve lived on the edge of a heart for the last four hundred years.

You grow up knowing that, you know, and it sounds so normal. So routine. We learn the world works on the decaying remnants of the old world, and that’s life, but it’s so different to see it.

I got a job working at the power center when I was just twelve. You can only work a few hours a day that age. You got school, and life, and laws that say it’s bad for you. And the work’s easy; all I did was bring people papers and drinks, one room to the next. Wait for a while until called. It was like chores at home. That, and my sister had done it before me, so I knew the routes going in, and I was fast; I was good. I wanted them to be impressed.

I guess they were.

When I turned fifteen, I got a job working basic cleaning. I got the older janitors to teach me repairs. I was good at it, and if you opened the windows on the second floor at night, you’d hear the concerts down the hill, and it was almost magic.

It was during a meteor concert I first saw the god. I knew how the power station worked, in theory, but they keep security tight close to the core, and usually I wouldn’t have been allowed near it with my rank. One of the old men in the job had fallen though, and injured himself late in the winter, and had to be taken to the doctor. The other oldest staff member usually there was out of town visiting family a few villages away, and that left just one of the younger men, and me. I’d offered to help, and rather than take all the lower floors alone, he’d said ‘sure why not,’ and let me though.

There was no one to stop us. And I’d earned trust. Honestly though, I hadn’t done it expecting to see it. I mean, I was curious generally, but I knew by then even if you were in the room, things were usually all bolted closed. Really though, I was so worried about Alberto, all I was thinking about had been him, and how close he was to the age of my own grandfather when he’d died last year. There wasn’t room for curiosity past fear and superstition.

The concert down the hill was playing loud though, a lunar event. Beautiful, probably, but I wasn’t thinking about having to miss it. I was thinking about Alberto, and trying to not think about Alberto, and trying to make my heart go slower, and the mop in my hand.

There were lights that activated through rune when you got close in the inner rooms, and I walked past a long wall of a massive tank, like an aquarium I’d seen once visiting the coast. Runes lit it blue and red as I went past, and thought about Alberto, and my grandfather, and the concert, and the mop. I kept telling myself, “I did the right thing. I stayed, and I worked a double and did his job, so he’ll be okay. It’s only fair. It wouldn’t be fair for him to die tonight while I’m working his shift. This will keep him safe.” It wouldn’t be like grandad, and the trip I’d passed on two nights before his death, to see friends instead, because I thought I had time.

I looked at the floor and I mopped till the runelight glowed in them, and focused on doing everything right. Everything. On meaning it.

And then I’d felt something move.

I can’t describe the immense horror of feeling something that size move in a room at night alone. It’s like the shadow of a mountain. It’s like the things you think are past your bed as a child.

And I saw my perfect runelight flicker in the tiles like something had passed between them and me, and turned to look up in that massive, empty fear of the night before that moment multiplied, and there in the tank was a humanoid figure I hadn’t realized was one at all, because it was five times as big. Its palm was the size of my head, and it shifted in that dark glowing tank, and I saw things that had looked like reeds move with it and registered them as chains. Its eyes were shut, but as I found swirling masses of matted black hair in the liquid, and what must have been a face beyond them, its eyes opened a crack. I saw glowing grey and black light in them, and they found me on that 2/3rds of a perfectly mopped floor, and pinned me to it like the corpse of a butterfly in a collector’s box.

I had never felt so afraid and so sure if something else wanted it, I was just going to die now.

The chains didn’t matter, the tank, the facility. It was too big for anything to possibly matter. So I stood there, hearing music of falling stars from the living humans below me what felt like a planet away, just waiting, for this big thing opposite me to will me dead.

It did not. It just looked at me, unmoving, like some corpse in the water. If I hadn’t been able to feel its gaze, I might have been able to really believe it was dead. But I knew it was watching me.

For about ten minutes I stood there looking at it, mop dripping water onto my perfect floor, too scared to move or think. And then slowly, fear beat out fear. I began thinking ‘No. You’re failing now. You stopped. You had to do his job perfect. He’s going to die.’ Louder and louder until it pounded in my head, and there was no room for fear of this god either past it, and I took my mop, and shakily went back to working.

I felt its eyes on me. I felt its eyes follow me. But I couldn’t stop, and so I didn’t.

I finished that room, and the next and the next, until the whole floor was done, and I went home at 10:00am two hours before my own shift should be starting, and collapsed, and when I woke up and returned to work after an hour and a half of sleep, and Hannah told me Alberto had pulled through, I believed it was me. I believed with immense relief I had traded with the universe last night this time and won it fair and square.

But I wasn’t surprised.

Dreams of that thing haunted me after, for several months. Watching me. Following me. I felt it in dreams about my grandfather, where I tried to make it to see him, and failed.

I got sick with those dreams.

And then a year later, just seventeen, they started letting me into the room with the tank again, to clean as Alberto’s helper. It always seemed asleep now, when it was where we could see it, and it wasn’t always. Floating like a corpse.

I wished it would look at me again. I felt like if it did, at least maybe the nightmares would be about being eaten or crushed, not the death of my grandfather.

And then one night, waking from that nightmare in a cold sweat, I’d thought about the way the stillness had felt the very first night I’d seen the monster, and about the way I’d felt like I’d beaten something the next day, and I went back to sleep and the nightmare willingly.

I remember that dream. My grandfather was there, looking at me and crying from the other side of a tank wall, lit up blue and red from runelight, and I couldn’t reach him. Behind him, there was a blackness like lengthening shadows that I knew was death, reaching, reaching, getting closer and closer to him as his palms pressed on the glass I couldn’t break through to save him, and I knew like every other time he was going to die, and I would not save him. And off far to the right, was the body of the god, watching with those glowing grey and black eyes. Silent.

I did not pound on the glass. I did not cry and beg or fight. I placed my palms opposite my grandfather’s and said “I am so sorry I didn’t come to say goodbye. I didn’t know. I would trade anything if I could.”

And something in the dream had said, ‘but you cannot, not like that,’ soft, like the touch of your mother’s palm against your face as a baby, and I believed it this time.

“Please forgive me,” I said to the grandfather in the dream I had let die.

“Forgive yourself,” he said in a voice I thought I’d never hear again, even in a dream, “Say goodbye now.”

He smiled.

I said, “I don’t deserve it.”

He said, “You do. We both want it, so you do. It’s fair.”

So I said, “I love you.” Which meant “goodbye” more than ‘goodbye’ could, and I saw he heard me before the shadow reached his back and took him with it, and I woke up crying, but, I felt better for the first time I ever had with a cry, and there were no more nightmares after that night.

That day, the thing in the tank watched me.

For just a second, as I was leaving. I remember looking back at it when Alberto was already through, and saw glowing eyes for an instant before they shut. It was substantially smaller even in that short time, than the first day I’d seen it, but still huge to me, and it terrified me, that sight, but I also felt relieved. Like the only thing worse than it alive, was it dead.

No one knew much about what our city god had been, or if they did, they didn’t say.

I asked someone who’d been at the station a long time once, and he hazarded ‘law, or storms?’ because of the village history and locale. I wondered if it was either at all. I guessed it didn’t matter. Gods had been gods: all pretty much the same. And we all knew the stories.

Over a thousand years ago now, there had been the age of gods. They controlled men; they bought and sold us, used us, siphoned off our belief into power, killed us, drew us in for worship and controlled us with fear, and hate, and desperation. Demanded blood, demanded lives, demanded sacrifice. We worshiped them, and they gave us power, a little. But only ever a little. And then, almost a thousand years ago now, we had realized they could be beaten.

And for the life of us, had we.

We had fought back against their oppression, and we dragged them down to our level. We had been used for eons as power for them, but our ancestors turned those tables. We built traps, and curses, and used our belief as a weapon against the things that had tormented us for thousands of years for it. Mages and artificers found ways to reverse the power—ways to siphon off a god’s domain, and make that power for us. We took them down, and tied them down, and we took it, all. And for nearly a thousand years, we had it. Power, and freedom. Not always peace, but our wars were our own. We were no longer pawns to gods. They were dead now, and our future was ours.

Well, most were dead. Apparently, when my grandad was a boy, that had actually been a huge problem, and people everywhere panicked. We hadn’t realized that the gods could be used up until they had no power left to give, and died outright, but it started to happen, and how could we possibly replace that? Our whole cities were built on their backs. Sometimes literally. But the mages and artificers had found a way, like before, and we did replace it. We had developed new dams, and alchemy, leylines—we even harnessed lightning itself. It would be different, sure, but it was no longer a real concern by the time he’d met my grandmother.

Amazing, how much could change so fast.

When the gods we kept chained in our cities as power cores first began to die, those gods simply vanished. There had been panic with the first few—long before my grandad was born—but, by the time he got his first job, we had accept the loss of a resource, and found something to do with it. Now, when a god died, we made something of it. After all: we were saying a last goodbye to a whole era of our history. Now, when one was on its last legs, someone was chosen from that city, and granted the honor to kill it. To become a God-Slayer. And someday, someone would be the very last one. The last God-Slayer. And god, I wanted it.

I knew I wouldn’t be the last, of course; by the time I was eight I knew that—numbers had dwindled, but we were hardly down to two or something. That didn’t matter. I had just wanted to be one of them, as a boy. Someone who might be remembered forever, a nail in the coffin at the end note of the remnants of our oppressors. It had been like a fairytale.

It was why I took this job, originally. Why I had worked so hard.

By the time I got my wish though, I’d forgotten it had been, as a boy, what I’d wanted and worked and traded in all the life I would never get back for a shot at.

It was early morning, and and I’d walked in still sleepy for my morning shift, and there was energy in the air. The workers were chattering together in excited undertones, and I felt excited too without even knowing why, and hurried over to find out too.

“You’re in time,” hissed Kanne at me, almost vibrating with energy, “quick! The name collector moved to the next floor but they’re still making rounds!”

“The—” I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my skull. “TODAY?”

They were all nodding.

Nobody had to tell me twice. I ran. I passed the tank room on my way, and it was empty, and I felt sick with adrenaline. Even if I didn’t get picked, which was what, one in 15 to one in 20 odds? I-I would see it! I was there ON the day.

I found the man collecting names and he gave me a little black card and white chalk. I scribbled my name down and dropped it into the slot in his box, and raced back to my friends with his whispered, “Small staff today. It’s the two men from the overseers, you four on cleaning staff, the two technicians, and one enchanter. I never put in my own,” ringing in my ears. One in seven odds.

One in seven.

We waited on the ground floor for the announcement. The others kept glancing my way and grinning at me. I must have looked stupidly excited, I guessed, but I didn’t care at all. It was like a dream.

“Will they let us watch?” I asked suddenly, it having not occurred to me before they might not.

“Dunno,” said Wis thoughtfully, the youngest above me here today, and in his forties.

I hope they do. I prayed silently.

“As you all know,” came a quiet, level voice I knew even having heard it only a handful of times, as the manager of power stations on the area. We all turned and looked towards the horn amplifying sound from a few floors up and stopped breathing. I mean, I did anyway. I had to assume we all did. “Today, we have a God-Slaying. The old god of this city has reached its final death throes, and is being taken down. This is a monumental honor, and the reward for dedicating your life to a job I know is not easy, or especially rewarding compared to some others most days. Today, it is the most rewarding job of all. As is tradition in the southern region, we draw lots for the honor of God-Slayer, among all those in daily service keeping the local power core site running in person. There are less than twenty gods remaining now, in our world. Let’s see who one of the last slayers among our kind will be.”

I waited, wishing I could hear the rustle of papers. ‘Arano’ I thought, picturing the white chalk letters in my head and pleading for them with the world.

“‘Gav.’” came the manager’s voice.

YES! What?? I thought in rapid succession, I-Is there someone last-named ‘Gav’ here???

The rest of cleaning staff had erupted in cheers and were clapping me on the back, whistling, calling congratulations and giving hugs.

“Is that me?” I asked them, dumbfounded.

“You know your own name, right?” laughed Kanne.

“But I put my last—didn’t we-?” They were all grinning at me.

“Mmm I put your last name,” agreed Kanne with a sparkle in her eyes, “But one of the boys must have not.”

“I genuinely thought we were doing first names,” said Wis, flushing, and Alberto had given a toothy grin and tilted his head to the side.

“Wait—all of?”

They were all nodding. Beaming at me.

“Don’t you want-” I started desperately.

“Not as much as I want to see you get it,” grinned Kanne, “besides, wasn’t mine I guess anyway.”

Alberto gave a nod. “You’ve got a long time to enjoy it.”

“And cleaning staff sticks together,” added Wis, shutting his eyes and gesturing carelessly with a hand, “four in seven is better odds—”

“Odds of one of us winning would still be four in seven,” I laughed, and realized I was crying, and he grinned at me and clapped me on the shoulder.

“You earned it, kid. Go get it.”

They smiled and moved me towards the stairs, laughing and clapping my back and talking, and the horn above us called my name again and asked me to make my way to the artificer’s chambers.

The two men from the overseer branch met us on the way down and chatted, friendly and enthusiastic. I asked one if he’d ever seen this before, and he said this would be his fifth time. That was almost unimaginable to me.

“What’s it like?” I asked as we reached the artificer’s room.

It was clean and bright, which was the polar opposite of it in active use. The man gestured to a door on the far end I’d only been through a maybe twice before, ever. There wasn’t anything back there really, an empty room for a purpose I hadn’t guessed before.

The man considered my question as we moved towards the door. “Strange,” he decided, and he gave me a smile, “They fight usually. I’ve seen them go silent once too. It’s almost reverent, to me,” he added like he was surprised to find it, “seeing the end of an era. Finishing what we started.”

He ran a rune sequence against the waiting door, and it slid open, and he turned and gestures for people to wait.

“Gratifying too,” he decided, giving me another glance, “Like you can breathe easier with one more of the those gigantic empty leeches finally gone.”

I gave a nod.

“Okay. We’re taking him in first,” he addressed the staff behind me, which now included Reysa and Lili the technical repairs duo, and the assistant who’d collected names. “Once it’s ready to commence, the rest of you will enter the viewing area, through that door,” he pointed to a door on the left side of the room, then glanced at his partner, who gave a nod and me a smile, and they showed me in.

It had been years since I’d seen this room. It was empty, aside from pillars and a little pedestal, usually. But today, there were chains, and a mechanism I hadn’t seen before.

“What is that?” I asked, staring at the humming thing.

“It’s the same as the one in the basement, just smaller and concentrated,” replied the overseer.

Ah, a ward then. We had discovered a long time ago when we fought the gods, that there was very little we could make that hurt them, but we could capture their own energy and turn it on them, and the energy of any god could hurt another. These things stored that power, and imbued it through materials like chains, or the liquid in the tank our god had been kept in. The way they enchanted the energy, a god encased in it was unable to do the things we heard stories of them having done in the past: use their domain to crack open the sky and rain down fire, vanish and appear on another country, kill you with a look. They just became big dead bodies, not quite dead, like our god in its tank.

“You have the right to choose a weapon,” said the second man from overseers, gesturing to a set that was hung on the wall by the door.

Oh, I thought, feeling something between excitement and nausea at the sight. I really get to do this. I’m going down in history. I’m going to kill a god.

There was an axe, a sword, a spear, scythe—which I could not begin to imagine the self-confidence or impressiveness of choosing, a mace, a bow, and a dagger. I looked at them long and hard, heart beating out of my chest. I could see the faintly glowing coating of god energy on them. Enchanted for killing gods. A god killer. Such a magnificent weapon seemed too good to be real.

But here it was, and here I was, and the sword felt like what the hero would choose in a story, but I was a cleaner, whose friends had given me a gift, and I was to kill a god, and I remembered the way the overseer had said ‘almost reverent’ about killing the last of these things, and I reached out and took the axe.

It felt right in my hands. Impossibly heavy, but, somehow that was good. I knew it would kill in one blow, which hadn’t worried me before I chose it, but I was now enormously relieved not to worry about.

“Well chosen,” whispered the overseer with a friendly smile, nudging me in the ribs with his elbow.

I smiled back and straightened up, and walked over near the podium where I was directed. Across the room, I saw my friends ushered in and watching through glass, waving, staring. Excited too. And now maybe a little afraid, awestruck.

I’m ready, I told myself, turning to face the door the overseer was opening.

It opened, and six men from the overseer’s office came through, holding chains and weapons with coals at the tips. There was a track system in the roof of the room, and as they hooked chains into it, a mechanism started up, and dragged the thing towards me, surrounded by its guard.

It came fighting and stumbling, screaming, trying to break free, and I was dumbfounded.

I had never once seen it speak in the tank.

It had gotten so small, it was almost my size now, and it looked like a man, skin dark and ashy grey tinted like someone who’d lost too much blood, bedraggled thin curls matter to its head. The eyes still glowed fiercely.

The overseer began to speak, noting history and official rites, chronicling our event today, but I didn’t hear any of it. I heard the god scream and struggle. There was no room for other sounds past that. Shackles were secured around its hands and feet, waist, and neck, and the mechanisms in the ceiling and floor kept dragging it towards me, arms chained together behind its back, feet awkwardly apart and chained to the tracks in the floor so it kept stumbling and falling, and being caught by the chain around its neck that kept on dragging it towards me, and I followed the mechanism with my eyes and realized it would drag the head down on top of the pedestal and hold it still for me. For executing.

In my head I had always thought it would be like a mock fight, ceremonial, or…entering a cage, with a silent giant thing, labored breathing, putting it down. Like opening the top of that tank and aiming a harpoon down while it lay there still. I felt suddenly like I wouldn’t know what to do now when the moment came, and might do it all wrong, and I tightened my grip on the axe to stop the shaking in my hand.

No one looked at me though. The men around the bound god shoved and prodded it forward with their full attention, until it was dragged to the ground in front of me with a shout, and they hooked the chain around its waist to the floor so it was trapped kneeling, feet too, and head suspended against the pedestal by the one around its neck.

It was wearing tattered remnants of an outfit I should have known, but didn’t. Flowing and formal, but so old.

“Having reached the end of its usefulness to us, the god of Malcove will be slain by one of her citizens: Gav Arano,” came the overseer’s voice. I looked up and saw him raise his arms. “We dedicate this ending to the memory of the ancestors strong enough to end the age of gods, as we take our final steps in burying the last embers.”

“Stop!” shouted the god in desperation. It fought to wrench itself back up and couldn’t, and cursed in frantic frustration and fear, trying again anyway.

I looked at the overseer and he gave me a nod.

Feeling like I wasn’t really there, I raised my axe. This is a god, I told myself, staring at the wretched thing at my feet, I’m really-

“Stop! Please!” shouted the god, dragging its head to the side as far as it could to look up and see me, and I was so shocked to hear that word from a god, that I did. “Please, stop!”

“Go on,” came the overseer’s voice encouragingly as I stared at the thing with my arms raised.

“No!” called the god, turning its head to look from me to the overseer and back, then staying on me, “Do not go on! Why?” it begged, somewhere between rage and despair, “Why do you do this to me?”

“It’s alright,” said the overseer to me again, ignoring the thing, “go on.”

“Answer me!” shouted the god, frantic, “You!” it shouted, turning its head painfully far back and to the side to see me, “Why! What have I done?”

“You know what it’s done,” said the overseer to me, “It’s a god. Go on; slay it.”

I moved, and the god’s eyes fixed on mine and went wide, ragged with hate and fear and desperation. “‘Slay’ me?” Its voice cracked. “‘Slay!?!’ Look around you! This is no heroic god-slaying! It is an execution! And I have committed no crime; you are a murderer, showering praise for a murder!” It jerked against its chains futilely. “I am bound! I am unable to flee, or fight back! I have initiated no challenge! I am a prisoner! You have locked me away and tortured me for hundreds of years, and now you have used up my life, you will kill me for it!”

“They get like this sometimes, trying to talk their way out at the end,” said the overseer, nonplussed, “You don’t have to listen.”

“No! You will hear me!” shouted the god in a panic.

Someone activated the mechanism it was chained to, and its neck was dragged down hard against the pedestal with a pained cry and held there flat against it, so it couldn’t look up anymore.

“You coward!” It shouted, trying to see me anyway and failing, starting to cry, “You coward!! You will not even look me in the eyes and face what you’re doing when you take my life?!”

“Go on,” said the other overseer, much more quietly. I hadn’t heard him come over, but he had, and he put an encouraging hand on my shoulder, “It’s all talk. It can’t hurt you.”

“That is the point,” cried the god, voice seeped in bitterness and despair and hate, “I cannot. I am a god who served this land for three thousand years, and you are going to slaughter me like a cow!” It tore at its restraints again and screamed in rage when they held. “How do you justify it!?!” It shouted at the room of humans it couldn’t see who had come to watch its death. “You call my people monsters! ‘Unfair, unjust, leeches,’ for using you, and then you take us and trap us in walls to suck the life from for hundreds of years with no trial! No justice, no reason! You treat us as if we were all the same!”

“You are all gods,” said the second overseer with a twinge of annoyance, addressing it finally, “You are the same. You earned what you’ve been given. Accept it with dignity, or die in a pathetic tantrum at the end. It won’t change your fate.”

“The same?!” echoed the god, choking on the word in despair, “You would judge your entire species for the worst acts of a few?”

The man rolled his eyes and gave me a tired, reassuring smile. “They usually die with a little more dignity than this one. But these make a better story.” Again, he placed his hand on my shoulder encouragingly and gestured to the axe. “You don’t have to wait for it to finish spitting at you, Gav. Go on. Cut off the poison words at the source. It may talk a big game, but it’s harmless. You’re the only one with power here.”

I nodded slowly at him, and hefted the axe. Then I moved, slowly, over in front of it, and it looked up when it sensed me getting close.

“Wait! Please wait! W-We do not go on to a second life like you; we simply end! And still, you will take all our time and kill us like it’s nothing, and then call yourselves champions and just! You must see it is not! We are not the monsters!”

It got no answer this time, and it could sense the plea had failed. Breath heaving, and eyes full of tears, it held my gaze.

“Wait! Wait—will you not wait even a few minutes to give me time to reach some peace?”

“What would a god pray to?” asked the first overseer, somewhere between amusement and disdain.

Its expression shattered at the words, and it stopped looking at me and stared at nothing with wide eyes for a few seconds, then it hung its head and was silent.

I raised my axe.

“Do you even know what I used to be the god of,” it asked hopelessly, and I could hear it was crying in its voice, “Fair trade. I was the god of fair. trade.” It turned its hopeless face up towards mine a last time and looked its own death in the eyes for mercy. “I never massacred your people, or used them. It would be against my nature to have even tried. I protected deals between people who wanted it. I protected you. Many of us protected you, and look at what you have done.”

Its eyes were swollen, and stained with dirt and tears, its face so full of misery.

“You used to remember me,” it pleaded, despair in its eyes, “you used to like me. People would come to my temple on top of the mountain to ask advice, and blessings on their plans. To offer trades for the sick and dying. Sometimes they would leave gifts, to thank me, and I always got to think of ways to thank them back. Fair trades.”

The last words had been a whisper.

“Why,” it asked me and no one and everyone who had lived the last thousand years. Asked for justification, justice.

“Gav.” A prompt, almost a reprimand this time. I looked up and over, and the first overseer gave me a tired smile. “They’ll say anything. You can’t listen to a god; they would lie about anything to get what they want. It’s alright. Slay it.”

“Slay?! Call it what it is! Murder!” shouted the god, “I am alive! I have done nothing, and given everything, and still you have betrayed me! You know it is wrong!”

I looked up at the room around me, at the others, my friends, watching me across the room, waiting. Concerned. The guards, agitated by my delay, wanting to step in. The overseers nearly exasperated with my hesitation. The one at my side gave me a nod when I looked his way.

“Okay,” I whispered back, and I turned and I readied my stance again, hands sweating now. I raised the axe high above my head.

The god screamed in rage and despair as I moved. “We should never have cared for you monsters at all!” Frantic, it fought at its restraints till it bled, and tried to find me with its eyes, but I was too directly above it now. “You want to kill a god!? You want to rip away my life!?! Then take it!” it cried at the death it couldn’t see, and I watched a last something break in it, “Take my last trade! Take my life, and the curse you earn with it! My hate will follow your blood, eating away at your life and soul and everyone you love until you have NOTHING left, like you leave me! Take what you deserve!”

It was shaking. And it was alone. More than anything I could imagine.

I didn’t swing. I watched it. It couldn’t tilt its head high enough to see above my legs, and after a few seconds of terrible waiting for the axe to drop, the tension went out of it and it just went limp and cried, silent. Weak and hopeless.

“Why?” it asked the room in despair, “Why will you not even look me in the eyes when you kill me? How is that not fair?”

Fair.

I swung the axe.

As hard as I could.

And I let go, and watched the blade embed itself in the enchantment mechanism sending god energy coursing through the binding chains.

The mechanism made an awful sound, and suddenly the air was full of shouts.

“Go!” I shouted at the God, willing it to flee.

It did not.

It made a sound like a gasp, and there was an overwhelming surge of energy in the room, like electricity in the air of a storm, or smoke and heat inside a burning home.

I saw guards rush it, heard friends and strangers shout alike, and watched the god snap its chains in an instant and with a surge of power come upright, and grow.

In a millisecond, it changed, until it was towering like that first night in the tank. Like all those nights in my dreams. Hair floating, eyes glowing like stars, ashy skin glowing faintly of a grey like smoke.

And it began to laugh, long and desperate, and not entirely sane, and guards slammed their weapons into its legs and it didn’t even take note.

“Yes! Yes! NOW see what you’ve earned!” it shouted with relief and a vengeance, and its voice was clear like before, but so loud it hurt, and it raised a finger and a wall exploded, shattering debris on the first of the overseers and burying him. It felt a stab from a guard finally and glanced down, and swung at them with a hand. It was like watching a cat bat a mouse, and the four it hit were hit so hard they went through the wall. The last two it turned to look for and brought a foot down on, crushing them to pulp beneath it.

Everyone who could move was running now. Everyone but me.

I could only stand frozen in shock and horror, watching this thing I had done, and then it turned its head and saw me.

Oh no.

I thought to run, but I only made it back a step before it reached for me, and I thought, this is pointless, I’ll never make it, and I didn’t. It grabbed me with a hand as big now as I was, and lifted me off the floor towards itself, and I felt the most immense terror I ever had.

“Wait,” I tried to choke out as it brought me even with its face, and I realized then it was beaming.

“Thank you!” it said, “Do not worry. You will be safe.” Its expression changed, and it narrowed its eyes at the rest of the room. “And everyone else in this miserable city will not.”

It raised a palm.

“Starting with this hell prison that has taken everything I had. It may be too late for myself, but I swear, I will take it with me.”

I felt a huge wave of energy surge around us.

“W-Wait!” I shouted in terror.

It stopped, and glanced at me.

“Wait please! I-I know you’re angry,” I begged, staring up at this massive horrifying thing that had looked so human moments ago, and now could swallow me whole if it chose to, “And you’re right! What was done to you is unforgivable! But please—there are people who haven’t hurt you here! M-My family lives minutes from here: please don’t kill us!”

“Tell me where your family is, and I will spare them,” it agreed, and it turned its attention back to the building.

“No wait!”

It stopped again.

“I-I—P-Please, not just them! I-I am like everyone here! If it wasn’t for luck, I wouldn’t have been the one with the axe; I’d be one of the ones fleeing! They don’t know, the people in town! We don’t even understand what gods are! Please! Th-The people like me who work here, even, cleaning! We’ve never known any better; they are good people; please, don’t kill them!”

Its posture changed a little, and it tilted its head slowly, eyes on me.

“Please! Y-You said you wouldn’t judge everyone by the worst actions-”

“-Of a few,” it finished. It looked away, thinking, then slowly lowered its hand, and the expression in its eyes changed and the excitement was replaced with sadness. “Very well,” it whispered, “You showed mercy. So will I.”

There were sirens blaring now, and people shouting.

I was sick with all kinds of fear, but somehow this thing being shredded with magic after stopping would have been almost as bad to watch as it razing the town.

“People will come-” I started.

“Attention!” The god projected its voice, and I heard it echoing from halls all around me, everywhere, deafening, “This building will be leveled in four minutes. You have until then to clear it. If you value your life, do not re-enter.”

It stood there for a moment in the blaring of alarms, looking at nothing, glowing, but less bright. I saw the power that had come around it begin to fade, saw weariness and wear beneath it again.

“I am going home,” it decided, and it smiled.

Everything vanished.

There was a bright white light, and I had to shut my eyes, and when they opened, we weren’t in the building anymore, and I wasn’t being held in a hand.

I was standing on the grass on a mountainside—my mountainside, I realized, because I could see the whole city built into the side below us, sprawling down to the coast. N-Near the top, I thought shakily.

I turned, looking for the god, but I didn’t see it. Nothing but a massive, empty grass flat here near the peak, scrubby brush, a few old boulders covered in moss. I was alone. W—how? What do—?

Below me in the valley, I heard an awful sound, and turned to look, and watched as the power center shattered. A beam of grey light tore through its core like a geyser, and eviscerated the place I had spent the last ten years of my life in an instant.

As the light vanished, fear gripped me, and I stumbled to the edge of the flat, and for a horrible few long, long seconds, I expected to watch the whole valley shatter like that.

It did not.

Heart beating uncontrollably in my chest, I let myself stumble back from the edge finally, and fell to the grass, sick with fear and relief at the same time.

Behind me, there was the sound of a metal clink, and the relief vanished.

Nerves frayed, I rolled onto my stomach and scrambled up, ready to fight or run. It took only an instant to find the source. There, about twenty feet off, lay a figure on its side in the grass.

As I stood, I recognized the god. Small again now, like me. Arms and legs and neck still shackled, just to broken chains now, and they clinked quietly as it ran its hand along the grass there weakly.

Unsure what to do, I watched for a moment, and then walked over and knelt a few feet to the side.

It heard me coming and looked over and watched, and gave me a sad, weak smile as I joined it.

“What happened?” I asked, very unsure myself, “Did…destroying the power center..?”

“No. I am dying,” it answered quietly, none of the panic from before, “You knew this. Your people have taken all the life I had to give from me. I’m out of belief, and out of time now too. I may have sped things up by a few minutes, but there was no other end for me.”

“…I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.

And I was sorry for it. Sorry that I’d spent thirteen years dreaming about killing it. Sorry that it had been trapped and hurt for hundreds of years. Sorry I had needed to ask it not to kill everyone who had hurt it. Sorry that I still was not thinking of it as ‘he’.

“Thank you,” it said like it meant it, and it smiled weakly at me.

It let out a shaky breath, and rolled onto its back and looked around, and I thought it would cry.

“This was my temple,” it told my, eyes on the sky above us, “There used to be trees here. People planted them for me. So many. You could sit on one and hang right over the edge of the world here, look down at the city below. It was a stone temple. Your people made it for me by hand.”

I watched him in silence.

There were tears in his eyes again, but I knew the kind this time. It was the same as the way my mother had looked telling me stories about her childhood with him, when we buried my grandfather.

Love.

And loss.

“It was beautiful,” he told me with a shaky smile, “Rough and imperfect. Repaired many times, and people would etch things into it as little gifts. After time, old words wore away and new ones covered them, like a tapestry. Children would write their name for the first time here, to trade for bravery for school. I loved it.”

The love became sadness, and it was almost unbearable to watch.

“They tore it all down. All of it.” He looked at me. “I cannot even sense the stones of the foundation. All of it has been destroyed.” He looked away again and tried to smile. “I had thought. That the trees might have made it. They wouldn’t have known, that those were mine, would they?” He asked me, almost desperate to be right. “Or did…the people who used to come see me help them tear it all down? Did…”

He was quiet.

“I don’t understand,” he said finally, very quiet. He looked at me again. “Am I wrong? Have I done something terrible I do not comprehend?”

I couldn’t possibly know. But at the same time, I thought I did,

“I thought I was doing well,” he promised the sky.

and the answer was no.

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

He looked at me and studied me for a few seconds. “I had not thought there were humans like I knew left,” he said with a slow smile, “I am glad you are not gone. You are named Gav?”

I nodded.

“Zesham,” he told me.

“Zesham,” I echoed.

He smiled.

For a moment he closed his eyes, and then he looked up at the sky again. “I wanted to come home to die,” he told me, “This is the only home I’ve ever known. I was not a major god. Only god of here. But my home is destroyed. Along with all memory of me.”

He shut his eyes. I watched him cry in silence and wished I knew how to comfort someone dying.

Slowly, I reached out and placed my hand against the one he had wrapped around blades of grass.

He felt strange. Cold, like a corpse, but vibrating or humming, like a cat almost, or a tremor. Zesham opened his eyes when I did it, and looked over. At my hand, then me.

“You worry,” he said like he was very surprised to find it.

“I…” I thought about my grandfather. Alberto. My life. Debts, regrets. Deaths. “I wish I could have saved you.”

“…I am okay,” he told me, and I knew he was lying. He tried to smile. “This is my earth.” He dug his hand in, and weakly held up a handful of loose turf for me to see. “They cannot have taken the dirt too. The temple, the gifts, the flagstones, the trees, the flowers. But not the dirt. They would not know it was mine. But it must be. There is still dirt here, and they would not have brought in new, so it must be the same I used to walk in, and that knew the roots of my trees, and the sounds of the footsteps of people coming to see me, and weight of my flagstones. So, I made it home still. See? Even after all that is lost.”

I squeezed his hand gently.

He tried so hard to look proud. His breath was ragged and his skin ashier.

“Yes, you did,” I agreed quietly.

“So. I think. I will go to sleep in my home, and not waking up will not be so terrible. And I have one human who has stayed by my side, so I have the rare honor, for a god, of…of not…” he was struggling to speak, but he managed it, “d-dying alone.”

And he smiled weakly at me and looked happy, almost. And shut his eyes.

I held his hand and watched. I wished I could think of something to say. Goodbye but not goodbye. Goodbye but right, like my grandfather, and I knew I was about to run out of time.

“I wish you would stay,” I whispered finally.

And I could see he had heard it, and knew it meant goodbye more than goodbye could.

I watched death come for him like a shadow, and I thought, ‘I would trade you anything for it if I could.’

And suddenly. That was a thought like it hadn’t been.

#original fiction #short story #fantasy story #fantasy #ive wanted to do this seqjence so long. no beta we edit after post as fools #wow auto so youll correct 'its' to 'it's' 800 times i dont want it but you just let me type 'seqjence' huh #tumblr keeps EATING THE LAST FOUR FUCKING PARAGRALHS OFF ANYTHING I WRITE??? it’s there in edit but not posted what the fuck #me writing

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raayllum · 2 years

Note

Where do you currently stand with the “fake Rayla” idea? Two possible ideas, and I have arguments that kind of work for both sides… so I can’t decide for myself what I believe yet.

1) it really is her and we don’t need to worry

2) it’s not her

I mean, these are obviously the two sides of the coin (oops), but here’s my current line of thinking:

- She is the only member of the team who has a crack going across her face on the promo art. This implies a sort of duality… is there another side to her? Maybe there is another her (a REAL her) that’s somewhere else… ok, maybe she does go back but she’s hiding something? What if Aaravos promised her parents back in exchange for the cube?? A reverse cube hostage theory- Rayla has to bring Callum/ the key to Aaravos? I find it a bit weird her cuddlemonkey just went straight for the cube and picked it up, bringing it back to Rayla… it’s not yours, don’t touch it… and saying “you look nice”’as a first sentence after two years is also not really.. normal haha. If that is their true reunion I’m not sure how that’s going to play out, why Rayla chooses THEN of all times to go back (beeline for the cube…?!) and tells Callum he looks “nice”…! 😅 yeah that’s not going to go down well I don’t think

- the way she stands is also a bit weird. Maybe she has changed in the time she’s been away (she must have done), but do people drastically change their standing stance? As far as I can remember, I don’t recall seeing Rayla ever stand the way she did in the shot with everyone on the top of the spire. (Standing straight with her hands in front of her. Reminded me a bit of Claudia actually…) Maybe it is a funeral as some people have speculated, so she’s standing differently for that out of respect, but none of the other characters are standing particularly differently… I don’t know, this felt super awkward for me and I don’t know why. The cuddlemonkey is suspicious and I can’t place my finger on it yet. (Let’s not forget the star rube glowing on the cube very brightly before Callum saw rayla… does the monkey have a stronger primal connection to the stars than rayla does to the moon? Surely the cube picks up on the strongest connection, if it can only do one at a time? Unless Rayla is a star illusion… or Aaravos casting magic for what Callum “wants to see” from behind the mirror, and Rayla only appears briefly in that scene…)

- there is another scene with her without her animal companion, running away from characters we don’t recognise. Is that real Rayla? I’m curious to see the progression to that stage and who these mystery characters are

- if Rayla does appear in one of the opening episodes and stays with the boys, then why do we have that scene of Callum picking up one of her blades? He seemed genuinely upset and yearning for her. Maybe my idea of their reunion is warping it slightly, but to me it seems like either he realised that the Rayla they were with was not HIS Rayla, but an imposter of sorts or… Rayla is taken away later in the season and the cube hostage theory can be carried out? It doesn’t look like Callum had been fighting at that point, it looks more like he came across the blade on the floor… but I’m just speculating!

There’s a lot to unpack from the information we have been fed and I am buzzing!!!!!! I’m curious to hear whether any of your theories have changed, or what sort of line of thinking you’ve got for the progression of the new season.

Written more of my thoughts here about Fake Rayla! While I can see the symbolism and reasoning for it, I do think she's real in every scene. Even if the rune should be glowing for Rayla as a Moonshadow elf, that would also go for her being an illusion (aka spell actively happening) but Stella is literally holding the key, so that's the difference there.

Rayla sacrificed everything (the life she wanted with the boy she loved) in order to protect the world. She would never willingly team up with Aaravos, even if he had her parents; they were all willing to die for their duty to 'protect' the world (literally in Lain and Tiadrin's cases, and that's what Runaan thought he was doing in the assassination mission).

I ultimately think Rayla has had either an epiphany of sorts (perhaps through talking with Ethari, who's been changed by having lost his own love for the past two years) or she's been tricked into thinking she's fulfilled her mission. I could also see her coming back and hiding something (information) in order to try to protect the boys two fold.

I also don't think "You look nice" is her first sentence to him. TDP always heavily splices up their trailers. That could be a line in their initial reunion scene, it could also be from episodes later (same thing with the smile, I think it's later, given how nervous she looks when she steps through the window and shows herself).

With this second expression revealed on Twitter fitting the scene far better. I think she'll probably only smile once she sees that Callum is happy to see her (even his initial reaction has clearly been shortened, since there's no way, to me, that the gasp and his first reaction is that short tbh; TDP loves their microexpressions, they're gonna give him some).

So while I can see her being an illusion (and indeed the biggest piece of evidence for that is not knowing how/why she's convinced herself that she can come back), that's not the way I'm leaning. I just think rather than having her continued absence driving the story forward, it'll be the emotional toll coming back around in the end to justify something like Callum partaking in CHET (exchanging the cube for her life) because he's lost her once, and he cannot / will not do it again. Especially if Rayla has come back and hasn't fully learned that she never needed to risk her life on that way / on that level in the first place.

#thanks for asking #rayllum #reunion vibes #s4 spoilers #s4 #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp spoilers #fake rayla theory #arc 2 #anonymous #speculation #predictions

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slime-quest · 1 year

Text

Humphrey ## I don’t really want to go see the void king. They’re scary ##

“They didn’t seem scary in my dream tho,” you say, “they actually seemed kinda apologetic.”

## That’s just a dream tho, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything ##

“I suppose.. They did say to ‘find myself’, so, maybe we should focus on that first.”

Mirrow && What about the University? It would be a good way to catch up on all the time we’ve lost &&

Humphrey ## maybe… it’s kind of out of the way tho, and we’d have to go through the forest twice if we go there first. ##

“Maybe the mountains would be best to start with. There’s a…” you squint at the map, “a ‘train’? Is that… what is that?”

Humphrey ## Oh yeah, I’ve heard of it. People talk about it from time to time when they come through town. Apparently people are working on building a network of tracks to each major part of the world, and the train rides along those. ##

“Golly…”

It’s decided! You’ll head to Snowloaf. But not before…

Humphrey ## oh no please don’t eat it or something weird ##

You approach the petrified titan a third time.

Godrender $$ interesting – they never did manage to send up a beacon $$

“The past couple times I tried to connect to their core, I saw flashes of their death and then fell on the ground. But I was thinking, maybe if Mirrow could activate those mushrooms again, we might be able to get more info. If it doesn’t work, I’d want to give them a proper burial.”

Mirrow && I don’t know, are you sure? It probably is safe, but it might not be easy to reverse &&

Humphrey ## What about that ask rune Vuota taught us? That could be much safer than mushrooms ##

Gordender $$ we are just – wildly curious to see what happens either way $$

“Um.. I don’t know if I’m doing this right but, here goes..”

You pull on a thread from your cloak and wrap it around your finger. It begins to wave gently as though it were submerged in water.

You point at the core and with your wrapped finger, you draw the shape Vuota gave you for “Ask”. The thread leaves a vivid trail as you draw in the air, and as the shape completes, several inches of your cloak crackle and burn away.

You can feel a sort of link latch into place, connecting you with the core. You’re now able to ask it a question.

“Hey, uh… how are you doin’?”

A weak, distorted voice answers you back. ?? not bad – could be worse i suppose – you turned out alright – so that is already the best news i have had in however long ??

Not what you expected. “I saw how you died. Can you tell me anything more about the void king?”

Titan ?? oh is that what it was called – sorry but no – i only know what you have seen ??

“You mean you haven’t seen the voidkin around in all the time you’ve been stuck here?”

Titan ?? i cannot even see you now – i have just been stuck here broken ??

“I have another titan here with me, if they touch your core can they talk to you?”

Titan ?? sure – worth a try – anything beats reliving my death ??

You lay the tip of Godrender gently against the core. The moment the two touch you hear a rapid series of beeps, buzzes and clicks, almost mechanical sounds as they exchange information.

The noises cease as quickly as they started.

Titan ?? well is that not the most interesting turn of events then – thank you Godrender ??

?? i did not see where your pieces ran off to – however – perhaps we may yet help one another out ??

?? I was never able to call out to the goddess before i was destroyed – if you possess the ability to do so – please light my beacon so that I may reach out and gather information from the old titan network – i may be able to connect to her yet ??

“I can give it a try,” you say. You recall the icon Soot referred to as a beacon. It’s different from either of the void runes, but it’s a single shape, so you think you can cast it the same way.

You grab another thread, and carefully trace the pattern. As the trail completes, more of your cloak burns away, and-

A brilliant, burning beam of red light pierces the heavens. You pick yourself up off the ground. Your cloak is more of a shawl now, but you can see it already beginning to knit itself back together, very very slowly. The vines that were previously covering the titan have burned completely away.

Titan ?? oh wow owowowowowowowowowowow ??

“Are you ok?”

Titan ?? that is a different kind of beacon than I was expecting – it did the trick tho – the network is still there – however I am not finding any other titans – or the goddess ??

?? well – I will maintain a look out – if you come across any other titans in a similar state to mine – please do ignite their beacons as well – i am certain we can be more helpful as a network than as individuals ??

“Is there anything we can do with Godrender’s old core? They said it’s inert, should be bury it or.. Something?”

Titan ?? hmm – if you knew any crystalmancy you might be able to turn it and godrender into any weapon you please ??

“Oh, I don’t think I can do that. I’ll just hold onto it for now.”

?? very well then ??

You head for the gondola near the doctor. The lizard guard with the enormous hat is there along with a couple of voidkin, and a magnificently dressed slime.

“YOU!!!” the well-dressed slime dashes up to you, excitement glowing in their face. “Did you see that incredible beam just now?? What an adventure!! Did you do that?? Tell me everything you know right now!!”

#slimequest #intermission 1

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puppyeared · 3 years

Text

New rune just dropped!!

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stetervault · 3 years

Note

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

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sixth-light · 4 years

Text

The Crusades: A Fandom Primer

Like many of you, I am very excited to see a whole lot of fic about everybody’s favourite new Crusades-era Muslim/Christian immortal warrior husbands! However, a preliminary reading indicates that fandom is a bit hazy on what actually happened during the Crusades. Or where. Or why. They’re a much-mythologised piece of history so this isn’t surprising, but at popular request – ok like five people that counts – I’m here with a fandom-oriented Crusades primer.

Please bear in mind that I’m not a historian and this primer is largely based on my notes and recollections from several undergraduate history courses I took in the mid ‘00s. I expect the field has moved on somewhat, and I welcome corrections from people with more up-to-date knowledge! There’s also this very good post by someone who is a lot less lazy about links than I am.

Where did they take place?

The Crusades, broadly, describe a series of invasions of the Eastern Mediterranean (modern Israel, Syria, Lebanon, Beirut, Jordan, Cyprus, and parts of Turkey and Greece) by (mostly) Western European armies, religiously justified by their belief that the city of Jerusalem should be part of ‘Christendom’, i.e. ruled by a Christian monarch. In the first expression of European settler colonialism, nobles from the area of modern France and Germany founded four Crusader Kingdoms (aka ‘Outremer’, ‘overseas’) – the County of Edessa, the Principality of Antioch, the Kingdom of Jerusalem, and County of Tripoli.

After a first unexpected wave of success in the First Crusade (1096-1099), which surprised everybody including the participants by conquering Jerusalem, the Crusaders were gradually driven and the last part of Outremer was lost to European control with the fall of the city of Acre in 1291. Crusades after that still nominally aimed to take Jerusalem but rarely got very far, with the Fourth Crusade famously sacking the city of Byzantium, their nominal Christian allies, in 1204. During this whole period activity that can be considered part of the ‘Crusades’ took place around the Eastern Mediterranean.

The most important thing to remember is that modern national boundaries didn’t exist in the same way; Italy, Germany, France, Spain, and the UK were not unified nations. Most of the southern Iberian peninsula (modern Spain) was ‘al-Andalus’, Muslim kingdoms ruled by nobility originally from North Africa. Sicily had been an Emirate up until very recently, when it had been conquered by Normans (Vikings with a one-century stopover in France). Italy and Germany in particular were a series of city-states and small duchies; Genoa, if you’re curious about it for some reason, ;), was a maritime power with more or less a distinct language, Genoese Ligurian (their dialect had enough of a navy to qualify). England had recently become part of the Anglo-Norman Empire, which ruled most of England (but not Wales or Scotland) and also large parts of modern France, particularly Normandy.

The Muslim world was similarly fragmented in ways that don’t correspond to modern national boundaries - there were multiple taifa states in Iberia, the Almoravid Caliphate in Morocco, the Fatimid Caliphate in Egypt, and (nominally) the Abbasid Caliphate in Baghdad, one of the great cities of the era, although the Seljuq Turks were the major power in Anatolia (modern Turkey) and what we describe as the ‘Middle East’.

The largest Christian unified power in the wider European/Mediterranean region was the Byzantine Empire, centered on the city of Constantinople (modern Istanbul), which quite fairly considered itself the direct continuation of the Roman Empire, the capital having been moved there by the Emperor Constantine in 323. In fact, the really big political and religious question of the time for Christians was who got to be considered the centre of Christendom (there was no real concept of ‘Europe’ at this point) – the Orthodox Church, the Byzantine Emperor, and the Patriarch of Constantinople in Constantinople, or the Holy Roman Emperor (er…dude in nominal charge of a lot of German and Italian principalities) and the Roman Catholic Church led by the Pope in Rome. The Orthodox Church in Constantinople and the Roman Catholic Church had agreed to disagree in 1054 in the Great Schism, so in 1096 this issue was still what you’d call fresh.

Onto this stage of East-West disagreement and the heritage of Rome crashed the Seljuq Turks, a Muslim group from Central Asia who swept through Anatolia (modern Turkey), Byzantium’s richest province, culminating in the Battle of Manzikert in 1071 which wiped out Byzantium as an independent military force. The southern provinces had fallen under Muslim rule long ago, during the era of the first Umayyad Caliphate – including Jerusalem, famous as the birthplace of Christianity and a holy site for Judaism and Islam as well, but also a fairly uninteresting provincial town. Until...

Until…what?

Here’s why all the geography matters: It is generally accepted that the First Crusade kicked off largely because Alexios I Comnenus, the then-current Byzantine Emperor, requested aid from Western Europe against the Muslim Seljuq Turks. Byzantium often recruited mercenaries from Western Europe; the Normans (aka the Vikings), who had settled Normandy and southern Italy in the past century were frequent hires. Hence those runes in the Hagia Sophia.

Meanwhile in Western Europe, the Pope – Urban II – was having difficulty with the current Emperor, and was eager to heal the Schism and establish the primacy of the Roman church. He declared that an expedition to aid the Byzantines would have the blessing of the church, and that a new kind of pilgrimage – an armed pilgrimage – was religiously acceptable, if aimed against the enemies of Christendom.

Pilgrimages (travelling to holy sites, such as churches that held saints’ relics) were a major part of European Christianity at the time and many people went on pilgrimage in their lives, so this was a familiar concept. Western Europe was also somewhat overpopulated with knights – don’t think plate armour, this is 1096, think very murderous rich men with good swords – who could always use forgiveness, on account of all the murder. The Roman Catholic church, unlike the Eastern Orthodox church, also subscribed to the concept of ‘just war’, that war could be acceptable for the right reasons. And so a whole lot of nobles from the area of modern France, Belgium, England, Germany, and Italy decided that this new Crusade thing was something they wanted in on – and they took several armies with them.

I’m going to skip over a bunch of stuff involving the People’s Crusade (a popular movement of poorer people, got literally slaughtered in Anatolia), the massacres of Jews in Eastern Europe, and a lot of battles, but the takeaway is this: Alexios probably thought he was getting mercenaries. He got a popular religious movement that, somewhat unfortunately, actually achieved its goal (Jerusalem), did next to nothing to solve his Anatolia problem, and gave a succession of Popes a convenient outlet for errant knights, nobles, and rulers: going on Crusade.

How many were there?

Official Crusades that anybody cares about: Nine, technically. Crusade-like military events that immortal soldiers might have got involved with, plus local stoushes in Outremer: way more. WAY more.

The First Crusade (1096-1099): First and original, set a frankly (heh) terrible precedent, founded the Crusader States and captured Jerusalem. Only regarded as a clash of civilisations by the Western Christians involved. For the local Muslims it was just another day at the ‘Byzantium hires Frankish mercenaries to make our lives difficult’ office.

The Crusade of 1101: Everybody who peaced out on the First Crusade hurried to prove they were actually up for it, once the remaining First Crusaders took Jerusalem. Didn’t do much.

The Second Crusade (1147-1150): The County of Edessa falls, Eleanor of Aquitaine happens (my fave), the only winners are the people who semi-accidentally conquer Lisbon (in Portugal) (but from Muslim rulers so that…counts?).

The Third Crusade (1189-1192): You all know this one because it has RICHARD THE LIONHEART and SALADIN. Much Clash of Civilisations, very Noble, did enough to keep the remaining Crusader kingdoms going but access to Jerusalem for Christian pilgrims was obtained by treaty, not conquest. Indirectly responsible for the Robin Hood mythos when Richard gets banged up in prison on the way home and is away from England for ages.

The Fourth Crusade (1202-1204): Aims for Jerusalem, ends up sacking the Eastern Orthodox city of Constantinople, just not a great time for anybody, more or less the eventual cause of the fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans in 1453.

The Fifth Crusade (1217-1221): Still going for Jerusalem, starts with Cairo instead, does not get anywhere it wants to even after allying with the Anatolian Sultanate of Rum, making the whole ‘Christians vs Muslims’ thing even murkier than it already was post the Fourth Crusade.

The Sixth Crusade (1228-1229): Somehow these things are still going. Nobody even does very much fighting. Access to Jerusalem is negotiated by treaty, yet again.

The Seventh, Eight, and Ninth Crusades: Seriously nobody cares anymore and also nobody is trying very hard. Kings have better things to do, mostly. People end up in Egypt a lot. We covered these in one lecture and I have forgotten all of it.

The Albigensian Crusade (1209-1229): Why take a three-year trip to the Holy Land to fight pagans when you can fight the ones in your own backyard (southern France), AND take their stuff? Famously the source of the probably apocryphal ‘Kill them all, God will know His own’ quote, regarding the massacre of most of a city harbouring Cathars (a Christian sect deemed heretical).

Can we circle back to that ‘massacres of Jews’ bit? WTF?

Crusades, historically, were Not A Good Time for Jewish communities in Europe; when Christians were riled up to go and Fight The Infidel, it was a lot quicker to massacre local Jews than travel to the Holy Land. Also, then you could take their stuff. I will note here that it is VERY TACKY to use historical pogroms as backdrops for your non-Jewish main characters so keep this in mind but, like, use with extreme caution in fanfic, okay? Generally life was a lot easier for Jewish communities in Muslim-ruled states in this period, which is why so many Hispanic Jews ended up in Turkey after they were expelled from Spain.

What were they really about, then?

Historians still Have Opinions about this. Genuine religious fervour was absolutely a key motivator, especially of the First Crusade. The ability to wage war sanctioned by the Church, or to redeem your local sins by going and fighting against the pagans, was part of that, too. Control of key trade routes to the East was probably not not a part of it. The Crusader States were definitely Baby’s First Experiment With Settler Colonialism, and paved the theological and rhetorical ground for the colonisation of the Americas. But many individuals on the Christian side would absolutely have believed they were doing God’s work. The various Muslim rulers and certainly the local Christian, Jewish, and Muslim inhabitants of the Holy Land itself were mostly just getting invaded by Franks. As time wound on the Crusades became more and more political (frequently featuring intra-religious violence and inter-religious alliances) and less and less about their forever nominal goal, control of Jerusalem.

How’s Wikipedia on this?

Basically not too bad but I’m not totally confident on some of the bits about motivation (see: white supremacists love this period, ugh.)

Why did they stop?

The prospect of re-taking Jerusalem vanished entirely as the Ottoman Empire centralised and took a firm hold over most of the Levant (and made inroads into Europe, as far as Austria, taking Constantinople in 1453 and finally ending the continuous Roman Empire), the Spanish Reconquista and various intra-European conflicts (the Hundred Years’ War, for example) absorbed military attention, and then the Reformation happened and half of Europe stopped listening to the Pope and started stabbing each other over who was the right kind of Christian. But the concept lingered; white supremacists love the Crusades. Which is why it is a very good idea to be sparing with Crusader imagery around Niccolò in fanfic set in the modern era, and please for fuck’s sake stop with the ‘crugayders’ tag, Yusuf wasn’t a Crusader.

What other fun facts should I keep in mind re: Nicky | Nicolò and Joe | Yusuf?

· Genoa is not the same as Italy; Nicolò is Nicolò di Genova and would have spoken Genoese (Ligurian) and considered himself to be Genoese. Italian as a language didn’t really exist yet. The language he and Yusuf would most likely have had in common was the ‘lingua franca’ (Frankish language, literally) of the Mediterranean trading region, a pidgin based heavily on maritime Italian languages. Yusuf 300% would have thought of him as a ‘Frank’ (the generic term for Western Christians) and probably annoyed him by calling him that until at least 1200 or so.

· Yusuf is apparently from ‘Maghrib’, which I assume means al-Maghrib/the Maghreb (as his actor is IIRC of Tunisian descent), i.e. North Africa. He could have had relatives in al-Andalus (southern modern Spain), he may have spoken languages other than Arabic natively (Mozarabic or Berber), his native area had universities before Europe did. Basically: this is as useful as saying he’s ‘from Europe’, do better backstory writers.

· Taking the whole ‘Nicky used to be a priest’ backstory at face value: being a priest in 1096 looked pretty different to how it did even 200 years later. They were still working on the celibacy thing. The famous monastic orders were still forming. Some priests could and did hold lands and go to war (this wasn’t common but it happened, especially if they were nobles by birth). Nicolò di Genova would not necessarily have seen a conflict between going on Crusade and being a priest, is what I’m getting at. If he was ALSO trained as a knight, he was from a wealthy family; it took the equivalent several villages to support a knight.

· ‘Period-typical homophobia’ is going to look very different for this period. They are NOT getting beaten up for holding hands. Or sharing a bed! Or even kissing, depending on the circumstances! I am not an expert on Islamic sexual mores of the era but Christian ones were heavily on the side of ‘unsanctioned sex is bad, sanctioned (marital) sex is slightly less bad’, and there was no concept of ‘being gay’. An interfaith relationship would be in some ways more of a problem for them than the same-sex one (and in some ways less difficult to navigate than a heterosexual interfaith relationship.) The past is another country.

· Look just no more fanfics where Yusuf is trying to learn ‘Italian’ in the early twelfth century I am BEGGING you all

#the old guard #history #finally that BA gets a workout #fourteen years later

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mxvladdy · 3 years

Note

Hello! I love your writing and I may have a prompt, if it strikes your fancy. I'm aware it might not be entirely lore-friendly a request, but I love relationship shenanigans in Obey Me, so I got to ask: how do you think Luci, Diavolo, Satan and Beel would help their anxious SO adjust when MC begins demonstrating mad prowess in witchcraft right after they first spend the night together? Sex, power and pacts seem to go hand-in-hand in related media, but no one really planned for it in their case!

Awww thankie and sorry for the long wait! I’m glad you like my writing! I hope you like this! It gave me big thirst lmaooo

Lucifer

Mmmm you smell of him in the morning. He positively oozes from your every pore. Rich and spicy, like amber and freshly turned earth.

Good. Let it be known to all that you were claimed. Thoroughly.

He put his daily routine on hold for you this morning. He was weak to your pouting.

He’ll stay in bed for a little bit to indulge you. But duty calls and work waits for no demon

Neither of you really pay attention to how hard you are clinging to him when he tries to extract himself to get dressed

You both just kind of chalk it up to neither of you want to part

The day goes on as usual for him, meetings, paperwork, meetings, punishing Mammon, meetings

But the whole time something was nagging at him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. He just felt like he forgot something important

But that’s impossible-

The wall explodes out behind him cutting Lucifer off mid-sentence. The rubble and great ball of flames miss him and Diavolo by mere inches only because of the latter’s quick reflexes. “Are you alright my friend?” Diavolo asks golden eyes alight with surprise. Lucifer could feel the prince’s defensive magic prickling his skin in response to the pungent magic wafting out of the hole.

“Of course-” Lucifer steps back, straightening his jacket’s lapels, the near-miss ruffles his feathers. Both men step closer to the hole. His hackles raise. The power emanating from the crater was far too familiar. Someone dares to use his magical signatures without permission. Snarling into the abyss he marches forward. He ignores Diavolo’s calls to wait and strides through the hole. His wings flare up from his back along with his temper. He walks through each wave of magic that washes over him. With each destroyed wall he steps through more and more of his demonic form comes forth till he is more beast than man. Strolling through the final hole he stops. His red eyes sweep across the scene in front of him. As the seconds' tick by his mood morphs from rage to shock, then to a sense of blinding pride.

“Well-” He crosses his arms and smirks. He turns his gaze to the epicenter of the damage.

“Luci, I am so so sorry.” You mutter aghast behind your fingers. “I-I don’t know what happened.” You were never the best student in any of the practical classes. The teachers made exceptions for you and your lack of magical prowess. In this class, the teacher always paired you up with Solomon or Luke so they could help you prepare the necessary spells and runes. But you felt so different today, stronger and sharper. Damn near unstoppable even. Just the thought of someone else doing your work made something deep inside you seethe. You didn’t need help, you’ve seen and heard the incantations a thousand times before- it wouldn’t hurt to try…Well, let’s rephrase that, it didn’t hurt you to try.

The classroom was totaled. Dust, rubble, and burning pages all float around you like a post-apocalyptic snowstorm. Soot from your uncontrolled spell blacked your clothes and skin, next to you Solomon stands rigid in shock white brows disappearing into his hairline. Quietly you lick your thumb and forefinger and put out the small blue flame singeing his bangs. “Thanks.” He spits out around a mouthful of ash and grit.

Lucifer coughs to draw all eyes back to him. He takes inventory of the room, making sure all the other students scattered about were still breathing. Satisfied he beckons to you with a finger. “Come.” You jump into motion, scrambling up and over the rubble to grab his outstretched hand.

“Lucifer.” He cuts you off.

“Not here,” He smiles warmly rubbing at some soot staining the tip of your nose. “Come let’s get you cleaned up.”

_____________

“Should I be worried?” You ask, stepping out of Lucifer’s private showers wrapped in one of his sinfully soft towels. “I’m not going to blow stuff up on a whim now, right?” You plop down on his bedroom’s couch. Lucifer hums noncommittally by his liquor cabinet.

“I doubt it. How do you feel?” He takes a seat beside you handing you a glass and grabbing your legs to drape them over his. You take a swig from the glass, the heat of the liquor getting rid of the lingering shock from class. How did you feel?

Your bones hum with some unknown energy and there was a fire coursing through your veins. “I feel like I could take on the world. Like I dominate half of the Devildom.” Lucifer’s smile was nothing short of smug.

“Good.” He sips his drink.

“Good?” You lean forward expectantly.

Lucifer strokes your cheek coming in to inhale your fresh scent. The commingling of his and your own was beyond arousing. “There is more than one way to seal and strengthen a pact, my beloved.” He pulls you into a chastened kiss, feeling your cheeks heat with a dawning realization of what he meant. “You have now given yourself to me in both body and soul. The- bonus perks were inevitable.” He parts from you, reaching for his glass.

“Will it go away?” You honestly didn’t know if you could handle any more curveballs down here.

Lucifer laughs swirling the dredges of his drink before downing it in one go. “Ideally no- but over time if it isn’t reinforced it will weaken and disappear on its own.”

“Reinforced?” The heat of your drink seems to dip lower down your body. Your demon scoffs giving you a knowing look.

He drags you onto his lap. “Are you truly satisfied with just a night with me αγαπούλα μου?” A gloved finger tugs at the hem of your towel. “If I had my way I would keep you full and drunk on my power for all eternity.” He captures you in a searing kiss draping you over the cushions of his couch, his eyes turning predatory. “Do not worry about the side effects.” He purrs caging you in. “We have all the time in the world to get you accustomed to them.”

Diavolo

He knew. This bitch knew before he ever got you in his bed-chamber. Just think of the entertainment value~

So when he sweeps you up into his quarters for the night day weekend, he just forgets to mention it to you

He is curious about how his magic will affect a human of celestial descent. Will it show up all at once? Or over a long period of time? He hopes that your blood doesn’t cancel out his claim on you

He watches you like a hawk for a while- and nothing…

Hmm. Perhaps it just didn’t take the first time? No matter, try-try-try again as the saying goes. He certainly doesn’t see you complaining

But as the week passes he slowly puts it on his backburner as his work begins to pile up again

You on the other hand are having a time. One day you are fine and dandy and the next you can read and write in languages you’ve never even heard of.

Then you started seeing some frankly crazy shit. Had the ghost at the house always been this active?

The last straw for you was accidentally freezing half of the house’s rose garden with a sneeze. To say you are panicked is an understatement

Frazzled you run to the only mage you could (kinda) trust

“It’s not funny!” You hiss frantically staring bewildered at your friend. Your look of panic just makes him laugh harder. “Stop seriously Solomon! Gods, what did I do?” You scrub at your face hard. If you made yet another freaking pact with a demon you were going to lose it. Seven idiots were enough for several lifetimes.

Solomon howls at this, drawing curious and rude looks from the surrounding tables of the tea house. You swat at his shoulder hissing like a cat. “Sorry- sorry” He hiccups. “Your turn of phrase was just so fitting.” He collects himself by taking a sip of his tea. “Tell me, what have you been doing of late?” He smirks around the rim of his cup.

You squint at him not getting it. His keen eyes drift down to land on the garden of purple and blue bruises littering your neck. You slap a hand over your hickeys. He smiles leaning over conspiratorially. “What’s it like to sleep with a God? The perks are amazing no?”

You shook your head. “I-what perks?”

“Oh~ Loverboy didn’t warn you of certain side-effects?” The mage leans back in his chair. He was going to have a great time today. ___________

Unbelievable. You march up the walkway to the palace, your mind absolutely reeling. Did he know about this? Of course, he did-how could he not! Did he just forget? No- Diavolo was many things, smart, cunning, conniving, but never forgetful. You knew him well and knew he had to be on the lookout for “side effects” as Solomon put it.

Fine, two can play at this game.

“Ah! Mio Giglio! How are you?” Dia glances up from his mountainous amount of paperwork when you throw open his office door. He rises in one fluid motion to scoop you up in a tight hug. Now that you know what to look for, you hone into the way he holds you. His large hands run down your back and sides possessively, he clings to you rubbing his bulking frame on you like a cat marking you. He leans in close to rub the bridge of his strong nose up and down your clavicle and neck. You feel his hot breath on your skin when he exhales. How had you not noticed this?

“Good, and you?” You smile into the fabric of his shirt. Carefully you wrap your arms around his solid waist. You hug him lightly so as to not give away your little surprise.

“Better with you here.” He chuckles stepping back to return to his desk. You follow closely behind waiting for the perfect time to strike. “What have you been up to?” He asks innocently, going to sit back down. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

You hum nonchalantly coming up behind him to rub at his tense shoulders. “Nothing much.” He nods closing his eyes as your fingers dig into sore muscles. “Usual school week, made some new friends...Went shopping with Asmo and Luke this morning. Bought you some treats, hidden from Barbatos of course.” You drop a quick peck on his cheek. Diavolo smiles sinking lower into his chair. He hopped it was something with lemon or orange, they were in season now. Barbatos had been on the warpath with his sugar and carb intake of late. “Then I had tea with Solomon and he filled me in on some very interesting facts.” You kiss his hairline.

“Mmmm?”

You pull away from his warmth to come around to straddle his lap while he is distracted. He jerks at your sudden weight on his lap but relaxes almost immediately. He opens a golden eye, not even realizing he had closed them. Your demeanor shifts when his gaze is fully set on you, all sweet innocence gone. A cheshire grin spreads across your face. “Funny you should ask if I’m feeling ok. I have been feeling a bit off of late.”

Diavolo tenses. “Are you well?” He tries to reach for you, his arms coming off the armrests of his desk chair. You strike like a viper, your small hands wrap and lock around his thick wrists pinning them to the chair. His eyes bulge in shock. You watch coyly as his biceps bulge under his clothes. He tries to break free for a few minutes before settling back. “I see-”

Leaning in you brush your lips across his ears, heart racing with excitement. “You forgot to mention quite a few things, Dia.” The low purr he emits shakes both of you.

“My apologies.” He admits. “You know I love a good show. Shame I missed it.” He throws you a rogue smile. “Forgive me?”

You slide closer until you rested chest to chest, legs wrapping around his to pin him down further. His purr drops down an octave. Locking eyes with him you remove a hand from his wrist daring him to move. He doesn’t. You move slowly and deliberately resting your hand on his strong neck. His reaction was instantaneous. His pupils dilate, and the gold of his irises turn molten. You start to feel his magic seep out, you match it, giddy with excitement that you could. “Only if you work for it.” You smirk.

Diavolo nods readily, licking at his dry lips in anticipation. He was more than ready to atone.

Satan

He is a good noodle and has the decency to tell you what will happen beforehand

It’s only polite to give you a heads up before he breaks your headboard

You both are curious about how it will affect you. He at least is excited to teach you some practical magic

Plus the idea of you pranking Lucifer with magic? Sublime.

He smells it blossoming under your skin while you sleep.

It’s sharp and minty with a smoky finish. Then the power hits him like a brick to the face. He is in awe.

It’s like an electrifying feedback loop that just energizes and excites him and you feel it too. He’ll lose himself in you and your body again, hyped up on the headiness of it all.

Once he has *cough* cleared his head *cough* he takes you out to try out your newly found powers. He has so many things he wants to teach you.

Satan kneels beside you nodding his head in approval at your chalk markings. Your lines weren’t exactly steady, he could see how your hand shook as you copied his paperwork but you followed it dutifully. He finds your nervousness adorable as if he would let anything bad happen to you. At his go-ahead, you get to your feet. Turning your palms down towards your summoning circle you recite your spell and watch in amazement as your runes glow bright green underneath you. In a flash of blinding lights and smoke, you sense the pull of the creature emerging from your rune work. Delighted you look down at your handy work.

“Congratulations my darling, exceptionally done.” He grins proudly from his perch by his bookshelf.

You bend down and pick up the little critter. “What is it?” It looked like a blob of flan but firmer. Its squishy form shivers in your palm when you poked it. Its body giving way under your gentle poke. It was dark green but lightened to an electric green at its base. It was surprisingly warm.

You feel Satan coming up behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. “It looks to be a lesser familiar, not bad for your first time summoning ever.” The jelly wiggles at his praise even though you couldn’t find any discernible features on its smooth little body. You turn it this way and that in your hand, even though it didn’t have eyes you could sense it was sizing you up to.

“What can it do?” You raise a brow at your companion. His arms circle your waist, his grin turning mischievous.

“Let's find out.”

________

Your lungs burn, each breath coming hard and sharp while you run. The sound of your pounding feet was swallowed up by the rush of foot traffic around you. Satan drags you behind him ushering you both around the throng of students. “Quickly!” He looks over his shoulder and flashes you a brilliant smile. “The further away from his office we are the less likely he could blame us.”

You laugh breathlessly along with him.

________

“What Belphie say?” You lean onto Satan’s shoulder to peek at his phone. The two of you sit, crowding in on each other's space underneath a desk in one of the unused classrooms.

“It’s glorious. Everything is covered. He says it looks like magic won’t remove it either!” He cackles showing you his screen. Belphie sent him a selfie. He is grinning devilishly from ear to ear throwing you both a peace sign through the screen. In the background, you could clearly see a very irate Lucifer. His face was red with fury and his clothes covered in green goo. His office was wrecked. Your little jelly did a number on it, you hadn’t expected it to expand as large as it did. Your familiar popping on the edge of Lucifer’s desk wasn’t intended either, but totally worth it. “Think you can summon another?” Satan asks, darkening his screen. You shake your head, whatever power you had earlier today had been drained after your little stunt.

Satan nods in understanding. “Shame- imagine what one of your jellies could do to Diavolo’s office.”

“Satan-”

He chuckles wrapping an arm around your back. He plants a loud kiss onto your forehead. “Alright-alright. Perhaps after a bit of a rest and recharge?”

You poke his leg playfully and laugh. “If you wanted to have sex again you could just ask.”

He dips low and kisses you. “Well then- if you are up for another round of delinquency…”

Beelzebub

Sweet baby didn’t know-

Well, he knew about it. Lucifer had given everyone “the talk” about it a couple of millennia ago.

He never really thought about it before you because he didn’t sleep with humans often (Him so big, human so smol if he isn’t paying attention it could be...bad)

So when you drag him into your room he just doesn’t think about it. You are both so oblivious

He doesn’t think about the shift in your scent, your kisses were just as sweet as always. If there was a peppery aftertaste to your kiss he chalks it up to something you had for breakfast

He doesn’t think anything of it when you practically drag him from your bed to shower together before school

He doesn’t think about it when at lunch your appetite starts to rival his

He starts to think about it during P.E. when your dodge ball puts a demon down for the rest of class

He definitely notices when you pin him down to steal his sandwich during your picnic date

Now he’s freaking out, whether it's because you are showing inhuman strength or the fact that you stole his food who knows

You nab yet another one of his sandwiches and start munching away with a hum of happiness. “Hey, babe.” He rumbles beneath you. “You feeling alright?” He wraps his large hands around your waist. Your weight was warm and comfortable over his prone form. He had whisked you away for an afternoon picnic, something to spend more time with you alone. After last night he craved being around you more than anything. He had packed enough food for him in mind. But it looks like it wouldn’t be enough. Odd. Beel rests his head back on the thick blanket protecting you both from the slightly damp grass underneath.

“Hmm?” You swallow down a mouthful of ruben. “Yeah! Famished though.” You lean back on his strong hip and swipe your finger around your mouth to brush off some crumbs. You reach for the other half of his sandwich to devour but pauses when you catch Beel’s kicked puppy look. With a huff of amusement, you offer the other half to him letting him chomp down with a fanged smile in thanks.

He chews in silence, watching you pick up a bowl of fresh fruit. Hmmm… He runs his rough palms up and down your thighs and hips ignoring your squirming and giggles when he runs over the thin skin of your sides. He squeezes you lightly. Huh- Your muscles were firmer than this morning, now that he was looking closer he could see that your frame was a bit sturdier too. Still his perfectly lovable and squishy human but more solid around the edges. In a last-ditch effort to figure out what has changed, he reaches out for his pact mark.

He jerks forward, upsetting your position on his lap, causing you to tumble backward, fruit flying everywhere. “Beel!” You shriek. He shushes you, squeezing your cheeks between warm hands.

“I forgot.”

“You forgot?” You repeat. “What dessert? I’m pretty sure the fruit was part of it...but I mean. If you want grassy cantaloupe it’s all yours.” You eye the remains of the seasonal fruit laying around you and then at the basket. You were pretty sure you saw some pastries at the bottom of it too.

“We had sex.” He blurts out bluntly, and quite loudly.

Your face heats. “Yes, thank you for the reminder.” You push him off sitting up on your elbows. “Please, why don’t you yell it out for all the wildlife to hear too.”

Beelzebub shakes his head groaning. “No-I forgot to warn you about our pact.”

Ahh-oh. You eye him wearily. If he was stressing you were stressing, it wasn’t like him to get so bent out of shape. “Ok-is it, like bad?” What were you going to die? That would be a big thing to just forget. “How about you fill me in big guy.” You listen enraptured while he jerkily explains how you have strengthened your bond exponentially without even realizing it. Magic, super strength, the appetite, all because you jumped his bones.

Nice.

It sounded so cool- but then overwhelming all at the same time. Was it permanent? What if you lost control and actually hurt someone for real.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it-I just. You felt so good.” He wilts. “I should have been more careful- this is the first time I’ve done this.”

“Beel-”

“I swear.” He bulldozes over you. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you.”

You cut him off, combing your fingers through his hair soothingly. “I believe you, Beel.” You smile reassuringly. “It’s not like it’s gonna hurt me...right?” He thinks about it for a minute then grunts, shaking his head. You grin brighter stretching out your arms. “And I get some cool powers right?”

He nods again. “For a bit yes.”

You get up off the ground excitedly. “Right then! You’ll show me the ropes right? I’ve never done anything magical before!” You look at your palms as if fire or sparks were going to fly out of them. Beel rises to his feet too.

“You sure? I doubt I will be as good of a mentor as Lucifer or even Belphie.” He looks around the large grove of trees and sprawling grassy acreage around you both. You both were far away from the populated areas of the mountain pass and town. He could practice with you freely and without worrying about damaging anything important. “Not the date I promised, but if you really want me to show you some stuff…” He offers you a shy smile. He did have a few cool tricks he could show you. You nod already rolling up your sleeves. Well- if this was what you really wanted then he would be glad to show you.

#obey me #obey me fan fic #request!#obey me luficer #obey me diavolo #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub

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luckyblackcloverrr · 3 years

Text

Random black clover thoughts and questions from my imagination – Part. 2

There's gonna be more THOughTS in this than the first part (which was FILLED with questions), and some may be cursed lmao !!(manga spoilers, probably)

Apparently half of Golden Dawn were eliminated, but I only remember seeing two people actually being confirmed dead? Not to mention there are members of Golden Dawn that I've seen but don't know the names and magic of? Like that red-haired girl?

I've seen people make theories about this before, but I'm hella curious about Magna's family from Rayaka and everything before he went delinquent mode on Saussy.

Luck 👏🏻 and 👏🏻 Charlotte👏🏻 half👏🏻 siblings 👏🏻

Is there absolutely no way for powerful mages (like from Heart Kingdom) to use the rune array method like Zora and Magna? Can't they minimise the output of their magic to make sure it doesn't activate?? Not many would consider using it since it takes so much time, but I don't see how it is impossible for the people with more mana.

random but Yuno with a black sweater, black ripped jeans, black boots and a black bucket hat. The magic stone/necklace will give it ✨ finesse ✨ (no pun intended)

I am in love with op 12 help (SO NAN DO MO-)

is there a reason why Gauche has that magic item in his left eye? It looks like it has always been there since he was a child. Child experimenting? Lost an eye so used that as replacement? idk it was always just conveniently there i wonder why

is there a significance or importance to grimoires that don't have the centered clover? I know there are some characters with it but for some reason I can only remember Magna rn

Thinking about how Licita and Henry's conditions are kinda same but not really; as in they both take away other's mana, but Licita also takes away life force, while Henry needs the magic to stay alive. Literal contradictions. Only two of them were mentioned to have this sort of condition/disease, but is there more?

Apparently Dorothy is a witch from the Witches' Forest. What's her relationship with the Witch Queen? Is she also a fugitive? Dorothy has very interesting magic too so I wonder if the Witch Queen did anything about that like with Vanessa. (off topic but I LOVE Dorothy's eyes omg)

If you actually think about it, Rades is totally an arcane stage mage. HE CAN LITERALLY REVIVE PEOPLE FROM THE DEAD (certain conditions apply tho, like you must be a person who has spent a lot of time with Rades). And what if Raia (Rhya? Raia? How do you spell it goddamnit) can copy that spell and revive dead people too?

I mean I've never seen Langris use his Spatial Magic as transportation like Finral... he can though, right...?

If the arm still exists, can't Fuegoleon get his arm back using Secre's sealing magic like how she sealed Lumiere's arm back together? Or ask the Witch Queen for her healing spell? It don't matter tho cuz the fire arm is LIT

OKAY BUT WHAT IF the Golden Dawn boys started their own kpop group? I mean they have the looks?

Earth spirit??? Will it be able to choose Plant Magic users? Or only Earth Magic? If only Earth the only person I can think of is Sol.

thanks for reading! tell me what you think! (except for the cursed thoughts lmao)

Parts - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

#black clover #black clover theory #black clover spoilers #the golden dawn #magna swing #luck voltia #charlotte roselei #zora ideale #yuno grinberryall #gauche adlai #licita #henry legolant #dorothy unsworth #rades spirito #langris vaude #fuegoleon vermillion #sol marron #i wonder how many posts my thoughts will last lmao #yuno with a chic outfit tho im living for it

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sidewalk-scrawls · 2 years

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WIP Meme: List the titles/filenames/descriptions of your WIPs and tell us a little bit about them/wail about them/beg for inspiration/whatever you want! Then tag some people for a no-obligation mutual wailing/cheering/complaining session!

ALRIGHT, the first time I wrote up this post, my computer crashed as I was nearing the end, so I’m finally trying again (while saving the draft every 3.5 seconds this time). I was tagged by @astriiformes for this! I’m going to go ahead and define WIP as anything I’m *actively* writing with the intent to finish it because I have a lot of projects otherwise that I’m planning to continue working on eventually, and this list would be a mile long.

Blood of the Covenant (Or, Finding a Home): Currently ongoing, this fic is a product of my Owl House spiral. I wanted to write my own “Hunter gets adopted into the Owl House” fic because I couldn’t stop reading them. A good chunk of this is an exploration of the impact of abuse, but it’s also a look into finding love through found family because honestly, I just want to get this kid a hug. I’ve recently been reworking the plot of this a bit just because I’d really like to finish it before season 2B premieres, but we’ll see how likely that is. Darker than the source material, so read with a bit of caution if you’re an Owl House fan.

[REDACTED]: Okay, so this isn’t a writing project per se, but I’m the primary writer, so I’m going to include it anyway. Redacting the title just because I haven’t formally announced it yet. ANYWAY, this is a game where you return to your hometown, a small town in the mountains, populated by a community of hybrid shapeshifters. The town has become increasingly rundown over the years, the environmental magic surrounding it having become harder to access. Upon your return, you deepen your relationships in the town and learn more about what has happened in the years since you’ve been gone. You also help to rebuild the town by solving picross puzzles, completing runes that help to restore the town’s magic. Basically, it’s a story-driven picross game with dating sim elements (dating is optional, but building relationships is a core mechanic).

Thief’s Promise: This is a piece of novel-length interactive fiction that I’m working on that will hopefully be published eventually although I’ll admit it’s pretty slow going. I recently completely blew up my outline because it just wasn’t working, but the very general concept is that you play as a leader of a band of thieves in late-late-late stage capitalism (we’re talking SPACE capitalism here) and find yourself caught up in a revolution. Anyway, lots of thievery, corporate espionage, and political intrigue in a sci-fi setting. Optional romance here, too, because I’m physically incapable of writing games without queer romance.

The End As We Know It: This barely counts as an *active* project since it’s so early on, but I literally think about this story daily, so I’m including it anyway. A mysterious billboard appears along a highway in the Midwest. Around the time this billboard appears, people begin to gradually notice an uptick in the number of deaths, especially through freak accidents. And then they uncover an even more disturbing pattern -- The exponential trend in deaths maps perfectly to the extinction of humanity right as the countdown hits 0. Anyway, this is horror obviously, mostly written to be an outlet for my existential anxiety. Currently looks like it’ll be a short story, but only time will tell.

---

I loveee talking about all my projects, even though I don’t post about them a ton on here, so if you’re curious about any of them, feel free to shoot me a message!!!

I’m tagging a few people who I think might be interested, but also anyone feel free to give this a go and tag me! ANYWAY, tagging @arielmagicesi @siamusotima-aranea @swordofsun @fishteapot if you’re interested

#writing #this took me ages to write because i was so bitter about tumblr deleting my entire post that i didn't want to write it again lolol #but i lovee posts like this!!#anyway i consistently have more projects going on at once than i'm capable of keeping up with #it's a wild life

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cryptenby · 3 years

Text

an abundance of green

so i’ve been watching critical role over quarantine and apparently it’s impossible for me to half ass anything so i’m obsessed, and obviously my love of rarepairs has gone nowhere, so im basically contractually obligated to write about Fjord and Caduceus. this has no plot, is completely indulgent and i really hope that whoever reads it enjoys it anyway lmao it’s also on ao3!!

They’re at the Xhorhaus at Caduceus’s own insistence. He told everyone he wanted to check on the tree and their makeshift temple, and Caduceus never asks for anything so the Mighty Nein is packing up before he’s finished the question. It almost makes him feel a little guilty, considering he really just wants to get his hands on Caleb and Essek. They need a good pot of tea and a solid talking to. Realistically, he thinks he could have just said that but Caleb is skittish about matters of the heart, especially when he didn’t initiate them on his own.

Beau knows though. She corners him before they leave, out of earshot of most everyone. “Duce. This about Essek?”

He laughs a little to himself, an airy thing. “Kind of. I would like to check on him, I'm hoping he’ll come see us. Or let us see him.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Caduceus grins.

“How is it possible that I know that you mean that but I still feel a little guilty?” she says, a little sheepish as Caduceus laughs. “How can you trust him so easily?”

“I have faith that you guys will ask the right questions. If he doesn’t care for us, or have our best interests at heart, I’m very confident the more suspicious of us will be on top of it. But I trust Mr. Caleb, and he didn't condemn him,” Caduceus says with a shrug. “Neither will I.”

Beau just looks at him for a moment before sniffing harshly and blowing out a loud breath. “Fucking fine. I won’t tear him a new one but don’t think I didn’t notice that you gave me permission to pull every possible piece of information out of him.”

“Of course,” Caduceus says, barely containing his smile. “I know who you are, Ms. Beau, and I expect you to be yourself.”

Beau blushes, for some reason, and clears her throat. “Right. Thanks, Duce.”

He gives a mock, half salute that he’s seen her give to their captain, and it makes her laugh before she strolls off. It doesn’t take them much longer before they’re off, Caleb finishing off the teleportation circle with a dramatic flourish that makes Jester giggle, the whole point of it, Caduceus is sure.

The familiar trek to the Xhorhaus seems to take no time at all, the tree he’s grown so fond of twinkling with a soft light the closer they get, a beacon, of sorts, welcoming them home. He’s a little surprised by how much he loves their place here; he’s not like the rest of the Nein, he already has a place that he considers home, so the new one was not so significant for him as for the others. In fact, it took him a while to even accept the place as theirs and not expect some ulterior motives to come to light. The feelings were unfamiliar territory for him at the time, suspicion and a lack of appreciation for a gift so grand, and the planting of the tree was a way for him to apologize and make peace in the space. It definitely seemed to work, if the happy flutter in his heart at the sound of the chimes when they enter is anything to go by.

Everyone goes to their respective rooms to store their things, chatting genially before they go their separate ways.

Everyone other than Fjord.

He does a loop around the common room, getting familiar again with his steps before he centers himself in the room, inhaling, and mumbling something under his breath with the exhale. The gentle reverb that follows confirms what Caduceus assumed he would do; the blade glows blue and Fjord glows with it, his See Invisibility spell activated.

The bunch in his muscles draw his attention first as he holds the greatsword aloft, inhaling again and opening his eyes on the exhale, their blue glow matching the runes on his blade. They highlight the depth of his cheekbones and strength of his jaw, his already handsome features softly accentuated. Fjord starts to walk the room with a more keen gaze, his steps strong and sure in a way Caduceus has only noticed since he accepted their Mother’s grace. He decides to turn tail and head up the stairs before Fjord has a chance to ask questions about his lingering that he isn’t prepared to answer.

The smell of dirt greets him as he ascends the stairs and he takes a deep breath, entering the roof with a grin. Everything is as he left it, the twinkling lights from their tree painting the room a soft yellow with their glow. Every bit of life to be seen seems to reach toward him as he enters and he greets them brightly, apologizing for being gone so long and asking each that he passes how they’re getting along.

A breeze warms him a little while later and it carries a friendly warning as it leaves him, explained when he hears the footsteps of someone approaching.

Too large to be Veth or Jester, too loud to be Beau or Yasha, too heavy to be Caleb, leaving only—

Fjord knocks gently twice before he lifts the hatch.

“Hey, Ducey,” he says with a smile. “Can I come up?”

“You know you’re always welcome, Mr. Fjord.”

Caduceus turns to greet him happily and sees some of the plants turn towards Fjord in his peripheral; he chuckles a bit at Fjord’s look of awe that he catches at a glance and shuffles over to grab the kettle and start a pot of tea. He turns back to ask Fjord if he wants any and stops, blinking slowly.

Fjord is saying something but Caduceus is barely paying attention, distracted as he is by the fitted, soft linen Fjord is adorned in. It’s not as though he’s never seen him in underclothes before, they’ve shared a space too many times for that to be the case, but those clothes all bore the wear and tear of the life the half-orc led, and politeness ensured Caduceus never let his eyes linger too long, for obvious and other reasons.

Never before had Caduceus seen Fjord looking so dressed down, so comfortable, cozy, safe. It fills him up inside, butterflies with wings stronger than any he’d encountered in Melora’s fields fighting for purchase in his belly. He wants to touch him: his face to memorize the laugh lines there, his chest to feel the steady beat of his heart, his back to guard it and ensure no one ever catches him unaware again.

He wants to protect him. He wants to tell him. He wants to keep looking and never say anything else ever again.

And that’s. Well, it’s weird.

Caduceus Clay, infatuated? Enamored? With one of his own party? How could it have happened without his notice?

“Uh, Caduceus?” Fjord calls, and he sounds closer than before.

Caduceus blinks slowly and looks down at his concerned friend now standing close enough to touch, and he takes advantage, grabbing him around the elbow, his dark green skin and black claws clashing prettily with Caduceus’s pale sleeves and light grey fur.

“Alright?” Fjord asks, sounding a little more concerned this time.

Caduceus blinks at him and clears his throat around a little white lie. “Yes, sorry. Sometimes I fall deep into my conversations with the Wildmother. Um, tea?”

Fjord looks closely at him before nodding and releasing him, and Caduceus takes the first chance to hide his face, cheeks blushing with his new revelation as he walks over to the little fire pit he’d dug out just for the kettle. He can hear Fjord walking closer, slowly, probably taking in the roof like he does every time he’s here, even though he’s seen it many times over. It’s endearing, and those butterflies from before seem to have made themselves at home in his belly, fluttering madly. He takes a couple deep breaths that don’t help at all and curses his luck.

“Man, I never get tired of that,” Fjord says, having finally made his way over and sitting down close by.

Caduceus looks at his smile and thinks, yeah, me either.

“It never really gets old.” He says instead. “Is that what you came up for? Not that I ever mind, just curious.”

“Oh, no, I wanted to thank you actually.” Fjord says. He’s looking at Caduceus with such earnest sincerity that Caduceus’s heart swoops in his chest. “I’m loath to admit it but I think I needed a break and I know I would never have bothered to ask, even once I figured out I needed it.

I know you don’t do it on purpose, but just having you around makes everything easier, better. And I feel like we don’t tell you that enough, or tell you thank you often enough. So, thank you.”

Fjord squeezes his hand, smiling softly at him, his lips finally used to the tusks that are growing in proud and strong. Caduceus grips him back and hopes that the answering squeeze and tears in his eyes are enough to express his gratitude.

“And also. I’m not around all the time obviously, so forgive me if I’m wrong, but you’ve never really talked about, you know, anything, really. You’ve gone through some pretty fucked shit like the rest of us and you deserve the care you keep trying to give everyone else. So, if you ever need to talk to anyone,” Fjord says softly, cupping one of Caduceus’s hands in both of his and smiling a self-deprecating grin. “I’m here. I’m a mess, but I’m a good listener.”

“Okay,” Caduceus says, around the lump in his throat. “Thank you, Mr. Fjord.”

“Okay,” Fjord says back, cheeky grin turning into a relieved smile. “Thank you, Mr. Clay.”

Caduceus nods and looks at him for longer than strictly necessary, and it doesn't escape his notice that Fjord lets him, stealing in some glances of his own. Caduceus’s heart swoops again and he finds himself wishing he could ask Melora for a bit of guidance, knowing her answer would be vague and leave him feeling more confused than ever. The frustration barely has time to take hold before he feels a warm breeze like fingers caressing his cheek and Fjord must soon follow, if his gentle chuckle is anything to go by.

He feels selfish for his frustration, fleeting as it was.

He looks at Fjord, and he wants.

He takes a deep breath.

He makes tea.

#fjorduceus #fjord x caduceus #critical role #teahaw #JUST A COUPLE OF BOYS BEING DUDES #just two polite guys!!!!!! being nice!!!!!#anyone else haunted by fjord saying hi caduceus all small and happy after he saved him #also listen melora is in the wind and she is always talking to her boy i dont know what you want from me #also beau just wants to be understood by the people she admires okay.....#tori writes

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

Note

I would really love more of the deruned AU, like how does the new rune that ties Alec to Magnus affect him? How possessive are they are of each other? Does it activate when someone comes after Alec [his siblings, clary, the circle, etc?]

Thanks @fallenqueen2 for the prompt, I do love this fic so I enjoy writing for it. Hope you enjoy!

—

Alec wakes and for the first time since his deruning; he doesn’t want to throw himself off Magnus balcony.

He feels whole again but raw, like all of his aching scars have been reopened and then healed.

Like a piece of his soul is no longer missing.

“There you are darling, look at those gorgeous eyes, finally open.”

Alec blinks up at Magnus. The smile that he normally manages for Magnus curls easily across his face.

“Hi.” He whispers, voice hoarse and throat sore.

“Hello Alexander, I’m so glad you’re awake.” Magnus tells him, like Alec being awake is a blessing, not a burden.

“Magnus.” He rasps and then he’s being hushed, his head raised as a straw is guided to his lips.

He tries to drink slowly, but his thirst is overwhelming and it isn’t until he finally finishes and is let back down that he notices the taste.

“Potion?” He asks quietly, enjoying how his throat no longer feels bruised. It’s the best he’s felt since his deruning.

“A little bit more than just a potion.” Magnus murmurs but Alec doesn’t understand.

“Here darling, let me sit you up.”

Magnus is gentle as he guides Alec up and even gentler as summons a mirror and uses magic to dangle it in the air.

“I, Magnus. I don’t understand.” Alec admits helplessly as he looks at his own reflection and he lets himself go limp.

Collapsing against Magnus.

Trusting him entirely.

—

Magnus gives a soft croon as Alexander melts into him and holds him tighter, his chin hooked over Alec’s shoulder.

“You gave yourself to me, darling. So I took you, and I found a way to keep you.” Magnus summons the old stele Jem gifted him and lets Alexander see the red glow.

His boy is startled, but not afraid.

“Very few alive know this, but I am of Asmodeus’ line. His defiled and divine blood flows in my veins and I have a power very few others do.” Magnus twirls the stele and very slowly, presses it to Alexander’s hand.

“The runes you bear will no longer be angelic. But they will still protect you, aid you, enhance you.” Magnus takes a slow, even breath and adds, “they bind you to me. Tie your soul to mine, since your tether to Raziel shattered.”

“Why would you—“ Alec starts and in the mirror, he looks so very lost. “Magnus, I drove you away. I was going to marry Lydia, all to keep my parents and the Clave happy. I don’t understand, how can you still want me?” And then with a soft, broken noise that Magnus never wants to hear again he adds, “I don’t know why you ever did.”

Magnus’ heart breaks and he stores away the mirror and stele and carefully lays them both on their sides.

“Sweetheart, I’ve never needed a reason to want you. But if I must, you’re a vision to behold. You took my breath away, quite literally. You came to my aid, helped protect my people and gave me your own strength even though the problem wasn’t yours. You tried to clean my home so I wouldn’t use more magic and trusted me enough to drink and sleep in my lair. You’ve fought every single instinct and horrible thought the Clave has drilled into your mind, and you’ve protected your family to the detriment of yourself.

“Alexander, how could I not want you?”

Magnus asks, his sincere honesty conveyed through his tone and words. Magnus is genuinely curious about who wouldn’t want Alexander. It’s both baffling and infuriating.

—though a dark part of Magnus is viciously satisfied that he is the one who has Alexander—

Alexander looks lost, as if Magnus’ answer is outside the realm of possibilities he’s considered.

As if it’s impossible him to see the good in himself without Magnus explaining it.

“You’re a precious existence, Alexsnder. A treasure the Clave is going to regret throwing away. But I—“ and here Magnus leans closer, closing his eyes and letting their breath mingle as their brows touch. “I will never throw you away. I will never let you go. You belong to me now, darling. And I protect and cherish what is mine.”

Alexander sobs against him; relief shuddering through his heaving gasps as he curls closer to Magnus.

“Magnus, what do I do?” He whispers, later, when he’s cried himself dry.

Magnus stokes through his hair gently, “well, you heal up.” He kisses Alexander’s cheek carefully. Alec turns his cheek up, asking for another and Magnus obliges happily.

“When you’re well enough, we’ll work together. See how the new runes affect you.”

“I, even if I’m runed againZ I’m no longer a shadowhunter.” Alec gives a shake of his head, “I can’t be. Not after what they did. Even if they wanted me back, I won’t go back.”

“And you won’t be. I would never let them take you back.” Magnus promises, and then in an attempt at levity. “I happen to be in possession of a lovely club that can always use a handsome, intimidating bouncer.”

It earns him a little scoff of laughter.

“More seriously, I understand if you need something to do. But I’d rather you recover, safe by my side. At least until this mess with Balentine is over. Take a break, Alexander. Heal, here with me. Be protected by me and protect me in turn. Stay by my side.”

—Magnus doesn’t add, worship me, love me, adore me, that will come later—

Alexander looks at him in awe, like Magnus is too much for him to handle, but in a good way.

And Magnus falls the rest of the way in love, but it’s fine, because Alexander won’t leave him.

He can’t.

—

Magnus is floating in a cloud of euphoria as he sets up dinner. Alexander is awake, alert and even —if hesitantly— asking for food.

The bond to Magnus is healing him —claiming him— and Alexander is thriving with the new connection.

And then for a moment it comes crashing down.

“Izzy and Jace.” Alec asks him quietly from the doorway. “Have you seen them?”

Magnus raises a brow at him and then finally, carefully nods.

“They’re alive?”

He nods again.

Alexander looks like he’s afraid to ask the next question, but he has to.

“Were they, did the Clave—“ Alec bites his lip, hesitating.

And Magnus, Magnus shakes his head. Whatever punishment they received, was a mere slap on the wrist compared to Alexander.

Alexander looks wrecked. The part of him that hatefully loves them is relieved, but the part of him that resents only grows.

“Can you, can you make it so they can’t find the loft?” Alexander asks cautiously, carefully, like he’s worried he’s asking too much.

“Oh, sweet boy.” Magnus finds himself saying and he crosses the room to cup Alexander’s jaw. “I already moved the loft and made it unreachable, as soon as I found you. I also denied them the privilege of my continued services. They can no longer afford my fees.”

Alexander frowns, “fees? Oh, they said they had worked it out with you. I figured they were giving you more of your stuff back. Did they run out of it?”

Magnus blinks in astonishment and throws back his head in a mirthless laugh.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” he finally says when he’s done. He’s angry, on his own behalf but more importantly, on Alexander’s bewildered behalf. “Darling, the necklace is the only physical payment I received.” He rests a palm over Alexander’s heart. “There was no other deal. The unspoken payment for my services was filled by the pleasure of your presence.”

Alexander looks surprised, like he honestly never guessed the reason Magnus was so generous with his time and abilities.

Magnus thought Alexander was playing hard to get at first, but now, after the horrible self-esteem and awareness Alec revealed earlier, he knows better.

“The important thing,” Magnus stresses as he places a covetous hand on the small of Alexander’s back. “Is that they are no longer welcome here. And that they will not be finding their persistent way here, no matter what.”

Magnus guides him to the table and pulls out a chair with magic, ushering a bemused Alec into it.

“Now then, something simple.” Magnus says and snaps his fingers.

And Alexander looks at the table and then he smiles, small and real.

“Simple?” He asks, a soft tease for the nearly overladen tables of soups and soft foods Magnus prepared.

Magnus smirks and sits, his feet capturing one of Alec’s ankles, keeping them physically connected as well.

“You’ll find, Alexander. That this is quite tame. You’ll get used to it.” Magnus winks and begins portioning his own food.

Alexander watches for a moment and then follows Magnus' choices. “I’d like that.” He almost whispers and Magnus feels a thrill.

He did that.

He made Alexander look forward to another day alive, and Magnus will continue to do so, forever.

#shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #immortal husbands #deruned au #prompt fill #prompt ask #prompt fic #writing wednesdays #writing wednesday #malec #lumine writes #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets #words are a weapon and i do with them what i can

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waeteeth · 3 years

Text

Location: The Woods Ft: @anemosofnyx, @mavenlockwood, & @phobetos

He doesn’t quite know how to deal with it, being around so much magic and yet...Jamie looks to Maven and then to the two oneiroi. He trusts Anemos completely, Phobetos he trusts to want to do right by Patroclus. It felt right to do the whole thing where he’d buried her, even if it was just for his own peace of mind. Maven was alive, well, she was about to be more alive, and she was right there next to him. He’s not really sure what he’s doing there aside from just being emotional support. “How long’s it gonnae take?” He has a hand on Maven’s shoulder, but he’s looking towards Anemos, they were older, he figured they had the most experience. Or at least he hoped so, for all of their sake.

This isn't the first time Anemos has assisted a vampire to return to their former state. There was a woman once, who approached them with Anathema, begging for release from what she had considered a curse. Though they had little interest in being of assistance to the stranger, it was the idea behind the ritual that piqued their interest — to touch a piece of their power they had never been capable of before on their own. It had only been proof of the fact that the oneiroi are more powerful together than they are alone. While they were never particularly one to help someone out of the goodness of their soul, it is for Patroclus and Jamie that they agreed to this request without complaint. The young vampire looks fidgety, out of place amongst the older immortals that stand around her, and the curious hazel eyes of Grace's features fall on her form for a moment, before redirecting to Jamie. "It'll be over and done with before you know it."

It's becoming very, very real to Maven that this is all happening now. It feels like they've danced around the topic for so long, it felt more like a daydream, a distant what if that might never come to fruition. But as she stands here in the forest, Jamie at her side, the reality is setting in. Either this works, or... Or she's a vampire forever. Or something worse. The thought in itself is frightening, that regardless of the outcome, the rest of her life is going to be decided tonight. Her arms cross against her chest, a subconscious defensive posture to protect herself. As long as she's been a vampire, she's felt so... Strong. Dangerous. The thing that goes bump in the night, not the one who falls victim. But right now, Maven can't help but feel infinitely small. "The sooner it's done, the better."

For this, Phobetos arrived as Yasemin- a comforting face that they had presented to the vampire in their first meeting. This was new to them, in all of their years they had yet to have seen this aspect of their ability: it required two oneiroi and a vampire who was willing, and it was an opportunity that hadn't presented itself to them until now. Dark eyes shifted to Anemos, and they did little to hide their hungry curiosity. The vampire's jaw clenched and the spirit studied her features intently, before reaching out an open hand for her to take. A comforting gesture, mortals liked that. "Nothing will harm you."

It would probably be considerably rude to tack onto that sentiment that Jamie wasn't going to let them hurt her. But he figured that wouldn't have Maven all that confident in the spirits. But he does turn to her again, offers a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. "I wouldnae let anythin' happen tae ye." Not again, not after last time. He gives her a slight nudge forward before letting go of her and stepping back, unsure how far he should actually go. He settles on a few feet and crosses his arms over his chest, just watching.

It's hard for her not to feel trepidation about this whole thing. There's a voice in the back of Maven's head that's screaming that this is too much of a risk, to back out now and run for the hills and just accept the fact that this is the way her life is going to be. Self preservation has always been a powerful instinct for Maven, something she has to actively shove down in this moment. Because despite how much the possibility of things going wrong frightens her, she can't remember the last time she's wanted something so much. She looks down at the oneiroi's extended hand, reaching her own out hesitantly until it grasps onto them, stepping forward into the small clearing they've chosen for this event. A cluster of braids fall over her shoulders as she turns to look back at Jamie once more, seeking comfort in his presence, before her attention returns to the spirits. "Okay, I'm ready."

They believe the human expression to be like riding a bike. Something about how, once you learn, you never forget it — except perhaps that's not entirely accurate, because it always felt more or less ingrained inside Anemos. It had been that way before, the last time they had done it all those years ago, and is the same today, as they stand in front of the two vampires. "She'll be just fine," Anemos offers in assurance, to both Maven and Jamie, though they're speaking to him. The oneiroi steps forward, closing the distance between themselves and the woman, gesturing with a toss of their head for Phobetos to follow in suit. "Just hold still. No matter what happens, or what you feel." This time it's Maven that they address. They place one of their hands against her collarbone, the feeling of cold skin beneath their fingertips.

Her hand in theirs is cool, and Phobetos looked over at Anemos for direction. Fingers close and tighten in reassurance, providing a firm grip as they wedge themselves between Jamie's vantage point and Maven- a last act of mischief, closed off with the lift of a pointed shoulder. Their other hand raised, holding the vampire's within the two, and they waited for words. It felt like something vestigial, like an unused muscle, the twitch of magic within them knew what to do but the spirit would not proceed without the other.

It's a lot to see, it's a lot to feel and he's never really felt comfortable in the presence of magic period. It's too unpredictable and she means too much to him for this to go sideways. But he can't very well sit there and pace and so his fingernails bite into the palms of his hands as he wills himself to just stay put. While he's curious as to how the whole thing even works, his attention is very much fixed on the youngest being there. He trusts both of the spirits, despite Hyacinth's warning, because he has to in the moment. Granted, he's watching over Phobetos's shoulders, the wee spooky shit had purposefully gotten in the way and he has half a mind to stalk a couple of paces to the left out of sheer spite. But he's determined to be unmoved for Maven.

It's time to let go of the human facade, to reach inside to the magic that resides within Anemos. Grace's hazel eyes give way to a bright blue glow, along with the runes on the palms of their hands, illuminating against Maven's skin as they grip the vampire. It's like tugging on a thread, pulling their magic forth to flow through them and out through their fingers, straight into the vampire. A purification, of the body and the soul, to restore what once was; cutting away at the threads that held the young woman in the clutches of Persephone, repairing the connection to Hecate that was severed in it's place. The goddess is not so choosy, unlike some, and does not reject the return of one of her own, the witch safely accepted back into the fold of her followers. It's a body coming back to life, a warmth blooming into Maven's chest as lungs begin to breathe again, and the pulse of a once dead heart beats underneath their fingertips. A second chance at life. And just like that... "It's done," they announce aloud, allowing their magic to recede from the witch and back into themselves, the illumination of the blue glow already beginning to fade.

There's one final moment in Maven's head where she thinks to turn and run, wonders if Jamie would hate her if she backs out now, but instead she stands firm. She doesn't like the sound of the oneiroi's words, the warning that accompanies them, but Maven nods her head regardless and grits her teeth. Phobetos still holds onto her hand, and she squeezes back tightly, wondering if they can even feel the pressure. Dark eyes focus on the one directly in front of her, and though she does not need breath, Maven still finds her's catching at the sight of their magic on display. And then she feels it. She doesn't know what she was expecting, for a body to be brought back to life. Strange isn't a fully accurate way to describe it, what starts as a tingling sensation spreading through her skin quickly turns to something more burning and rushing, a sense of vertigo that might've sent Maven to the ground were it not for the two spirits holding onto her. Her lungs feel inflamed and she can't breathe and she wonders if this might be death instead — if all creation feels like dying. But her body knows the steps, knows what it needs to survive even when her brain can't concentrate enough to think on it, air rushing into her lungs with one shuttering breath at a time. Her eyes are squeezed shut tightly, she doesn't remember when that happened, but it's better than trying to focus on anything else. And then, just as quickly as it came on, it begins to fade, pulling a deep gasp from Maven as she sways forward, unsteady on her feet. It's only then that her eyes reopen, startled at the lack of sudden clarity of the world around her, the dark shadows in the distance that she can no longer make out — a vampire no longer.

The magic had come easily, this was their birthright, something that Nyx had called upon them to do- and it was without an enormous amount of effort that strength bled between the two oneiroi and stripped away the tainted parts of the vampire's heart, stirring it to a beat. They were as fascinated with the process as they were with Maven's reaction, watching her face as she took in a breath, reaching forward to steady her. "Welcome back," they said warmly, watching colour bloom on her features again. "The living world, I hope it is everything that you remembered it to be, little witch."

He's felt it before, but it's different to experience it all before him. The oneiroi do their fairy godmother schtick and he hears it first, the sound of Maven's heartbeat slowly pumping blood again. Maybe it was the right thing to do it at this spot. They were saying goodbye to her vampire life and while he was still worried that this meant she'd be saying goodbye to him, Jamie feels nothing but relief she gasps for air she actually needs again. She looks unsteady and he takes a tentative step forward, hesitant for just a moment, and then he's striding towards the three. "Thanks." He offers Phobetos a nod but he actually reaches out to give Grace's upper arm a gentle squeeze. They didn't have to do this, he'll find some way to pay them back one day.

But then his attention is solely on Maven and throwing caution to the wind, he rests a hand on her shoulder. "Ye alright?"

The entire world is different. Like all of her senses have been muted, things she had become so accustomed to before suddenly taken away. She can no longer hear all the sounds of the forest around her, see anything further than the outline of the trees; like someone has thrown a sack over her head. Maven can only blink for a moment, as her mind catches up to what's happened to her body. "I'm..." She struggles for words, for thoughts, for a moment, but her eyes seek out Jamie as his hand lands on her shoulder. "I think so," she nods her head lightly. Tentatively, Maven looks down at her hands. She had almost forgot what magic had felt like, to touch it as she did once before, but she can feel it there, right underneath her skin. Like a child reaching for an object of comfort, she digs for the root of her magic, the flames that always burned through her as quick as her temper, until it sparks up through her fingertips. The mere sight of it provokes a startled laugh from Maven, delighted and a little bit disbelieving. It's been so long. A smile spreads across her face as she looks back and forth between Jamie and the two oneiroi. "Thank you."

They're less interested in the aftermath, truth be told. The former vampire holds little of their attention, nothing more than a witch again, as she wished. Anemos releases Maven from their grasp, head turning to look at Jamie as his hand lands upon them. They find him to be much more preferable company between the two. "No problem," they say blithely, as if the entire thing had been no more than a trip to the local store. "You should come by some time. So many people in this city are so boring. They don't know how to have any fun," they extend the invitation. Aside from the other oneiroi, of course — but now it's only themselves and Phobetos left of their numbers, and they cannot monopolize all of the other spirit's time. "Give Pat my love."

Phobetos watched as flame sparked up from delicate fingertips- was this worth casting immortality away? There were lighters that did the same work, but they were caught up by the joy in Maven's face, the catch of delight. It was curious, and inexplicable to them, but they dipped their head in a nod, allowing Anemos to say their piece and then leave. They stepped back as well, looking between the vampire and witch, before forming a small smile of their own. "I hope that you use this new gift well." Phobetos turned to leave, knowing all too well that they'd carry this fascination beyond the few moments it took for them to fade from view: they would watch over the witch, and see if she would truly be content in a life as mundane as Hecate's children's usually were.

He almost draws her into his arms out of the relief of it all. It does feel a bit like a weight has been lifted after all of this time, regardless of whatever the hell happens between them now, she's alive, she's okay. She's alive, she's okay, and he watches her with an almost critical eye. It had gone off without a hitch and that fact, combined with the fact that Anemos was so warm towards them, has him wondering if maybe the spirits can be trusted fully after all. He nods his thanks to them, can't help but smile a bit at the mention of Patroclus, before his attention is squarely back on Maven who seems estatic.

Jamie lets out a low whistle at the sight of the sparks at her fingertips. He can be uneasy about magic later, right now he's going to revel in things looking up for her. "Let's go home, Maves. Ye can light me a few candles." The grin he gives her is easy as the hand on her shoulder lightly claps it.

#anemos.maven.phobetos.01.#//oh boy i hope this makes sense

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abizarreyodelingincident · 4 years

Text

Ridiculous Optimization: The Art of Finding the Right Tool for the Wrong Situation

Chapter Five: THE INFINITY WARDROBE

Three dances.

He could do this.

He hated that he had to do this, but he could. The taste of alcohol on his tongue, its burn at the back of his throat... they were tempting, but he knew better than to rely on them. He never tasted any that he hadn't seen served himself, and in a function such as this one, it meant he had only ever carried a single glass throughout.

His lips pinched together, remember the last time he'd forgotten to keep a close eye on his drinks.

A cold grip closed over his guts. Nope. He shouldn't go there. Not the right time. Every notable noble in the kingdom was watching his every move.

Warriors had busied himself teaching his brothers how to best deal with the nobility at his Queen's gala for the past two days. He could say he was proud of Hyrule's and Wind's progress in particular. Neither had had much manners or interest in them before and not one lady had fainted from their crude or frank behaviors. He also had to admire Four's control in accepting the few pinches on the cheeks he got for being so fun-sized.

I'll give him a bigger part in our next plans of attack. That's a ton of resentment to vent. Whatever monster we face next will be very dead.

“And I was just telling our dear Hero Link here how-” Lady Farosi bragged to Lord this and Lady that and Warriors carefully agreed at all the right places.

He used to like these things. Used to be proud of his role.

'It's you! All this time, the deaths, the battles, it was all because she wanted you !'

Three dances. He had given the first one to Zelda, of course. No one could ever protest that choice of partner. The Queen and her knight. The most important figures in the War of Eras. A splendid couple, though he could not tell if Zelda felt any attraction towards him, the way he...

Warriors shook his head, made an excuse and stauntered to the buffet table, under which he thought he'd seen Legend hide. Two more dances. Then I'm free to leave. Hide in the stables. Play a game with the guards or maybe pay back Twilight for our last match.

He offered Sky a smile when his brother offered him a plate with some meat skewers and a piece of cheese. His stomach protested the very idea of food at the moment, but he appreciated the thoughtfulness. He forced himself to nibble on some of the cheese. It gave him an excuse not to talk to Lady Lanayrou. To dodge her attempt at linking their arms.

Second dance will be soon.

He scanned the crowd for a proper candidate that wouldn't be draping themselves all over him.

General Impa met his gaze over the crowd of mingling nobles, and his desperation must have shown on his face for she scowled something fierce at him. Right. Sheika. Security detail. Not the kind of person that should be on the dance floor.

With a sigh, Warriors resigned himself to letting whichever lady found him first have first right at a dance with him. Hopefully they'd listened if he said-

“Hey,” said a slightly off woman's voice, “do you think you could show me the steps?”

Warriors froze.

A slim, pale Hylian in a turquoise gerudo outfit stared patiently at him. Scars peeked out from under a tasteful veil that hid their chin, mouth and nose, leaving only startling blue eyes. He knew both the veil and the eyes.

Oh.

His gaze flickered down to the extensive network of spider web scars on the sides of the Hylian's torso. The outfit left little to the imagination. It was on full display.

For a second, he struggled to breath, realizing the extent of his brother's action. Warriors needed to apologize so damn much!

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he hurried to blink them away, taking the offer with as much gratitude as he could show his brother. Together, they reached the dance floor, and Warriors barely noticed the few times his feet were stepped on. At this point, Wild could stab him and he'd be thankful. Just swaying to the rhythm of the music and making jokes at the expense of the obnoxious people around them was one of the best dances he ever went through.

And then, someone reminded him just where he was.

“Who's this pasty ruin?” Lady Dynral loudly whispered behind her hand fan.

Twilight, who had just previously been attempting to convince a fair maiden that he was mute, tragically incapable of dancing and awaited in a backwater hut where he'd forgotten to turn off the stove, froze.

(It was no secret that Twilight couldn't quite pull off the neutral look of disappointment patented by the old man. It was a decent attempt, but they all had earned the original too often for the off-brand version to work.)

(What he could however pull off was the deadly stillness of a predator stalking a prey that had been just too loud. Eyes that promised death. Eventually.)

The chill alone made hair rise on the back of Warriors' neck and he was barely in the general vicinity of the lady. Now that was some killer instinct. The blatant bloodlust made his chest pang with nostalgia.

Goddesses he'd take another war over this...

However, seeing Lady Dynral's face drain of blood like this filled him with a singular vindictive happiness.

“Never seen Lady Dynral flee a function this fast before,” Warriors chuckled, twirling Wild at the tip of his arm for another round. “Our farmer's got your honor' back, huh?”

The veil hid Wild's face, but not the curious look in his eyes, nor the faint tilt of his head. “He cares about you too,” he said, softly. “We all do, Warriors.”

Warriors couldn't speak with such a soft feeling warming his chest. Wild's fingers squeezed his hands, then let him go. The others all gave him subtle thumbs up throughout the crowd, encouraging him to stay strong in the face of this battle. Dozens of skirmishes flashed behind his eyes, memories where he stood back to back with them, brothers-in-arms before the forces of evil.

(Sky found him another plate, which he did eat this time. Twilight patted him in the back strong enough to make him stumble into a lord, and wasn't that a shame. 'Ah, my mightily sorries, your lordness!' and Hylia alone knew how he hadn't burst out laughing at that one. Wind subtly hinted at the possibility of skedaddling mid dance if things were needed. 'I can fake illness like you wouldn't believe, War'.')

Third dance. And he had to admit, it looked like it wouldn't be so bad. Wild's assurance and the others' support made it feel smaller than before. He only needed to dance one more time, and he had had fun at a function for once...

Warriors almost felt serene when the bards on stage began plucking at their instruments' strings.

“Announcing... ” one of the guards near the door suddenly shouted, grinding the activities to a halt, “Princess Lore-al of Koholint!”

“What the f-?!” Wind's attempted swearing mercifully was stopped short by Sky's hand covering his mouth. No one even looked their way.

But Warriors deeply understood the sentiment.

The dress was impressive. Cut from the finest fabric, maybe enchanted silk, white with golden accents, and a gentle pink layer in the style of old royalty. Twenty or so rings, gold, silver and platinum, adorned the newcomers' fingers. Some inserted with gemstones, other carved with hylian runes.

Warriors really wanted to know where he'd gotten the tiara. He could have sworn...

Unlike Wild, Legend hadn't bothered with hiding his face. Or transforming it with make-up. He seemingly relied entirely on his natural twinkitude. And the lack of his ever present scowl that softened his looks considerably.

Amazingly, the haughty, confident expression on Legend's face wouldn't have been out of place amongst royalty. His absolute lack of shame as the rest of the ballroom stared did more for his credibility than an actual magic spell would have.

Warriors felt he ought to laugh, but he was too shell-shocked to do so.

Legend strutted, on high heels, right up to him, finally deigning to meet his eyes as if they were meeting for the first time.

“May I have the honor of this dance, Brave Hero?” Legend offered his hand, which Warriors contemplated like he would the head of a particularly vicious and hungry dodongo.

A long series of excuses came to mind, ranging from needing to go iron his wolf and thinking he heard Ganon call his name somewhere. Wild was one thing. Legend though? The veteran gambling addict would extract so many favors out of this...

Of course, Legend had to raise an eyebrow like he was challenging him to a game of cuccos and Warriors' entire being tossed caution to the wind in a resounding, mental fuck it .

With all the assurance of a chosen hero of Courage, he snatched a tulip from some of the nearby decoration, bit down on the stem and winked. “The honor shall be mine, Princess Lore-al.”

The musicians noticeable hesitated before starting to play again, and Warriors would have bet that his Queen had subtly instructed them to go on as normal.

The lascivious beat of a tango resonated around them. Legend's smirk widened, his eyelashes batting. “A red rupee you can't lift me one-handed over your head, Brave Hero.”

Despite himself, Warriors grinned. “You're on, Princess.”

BONUS

“So... where was the old man tonight?” Wind asked as they made their way back to their suite in the guest wing of the castle. “Couldn't find him.”

Hyrule frowned. “Wait, seriously? You didn't notice him? He was really obvious.”

Wind exchanged a glance with Sky and both came to the same conclusion. “What?”

“He was standing next to some of the really snobbish nobles all night. Just looming. Like when he's really pissed at our collective stupidity. They kept glancing around like they were wondering.”

The Links exchanged glances, mulling their recollections of the evening and arrived to a collective conclusion.

“Bullshit.”

Hyrule gave them an uncertain look.

“Was it the mask?” he mumbled, suddenly unsure. “You guys noticed the freaky grayish purple mask, at least? Like, it hid his entire face, but that was still clearly him, body type and stance and all.”

They turned toward Twilight, who shrugged. “Magic?”

They agreed, Hyrule especially. “Magic.”

A few steps later, Wind broke the silence again.

“... So the old man spent the evening just putting the fear of evil spirits in the nobility?”

Warriors snickered.

“Sounds like him, alright,” Twilight drawled.

DOUBLE BONUS

“You know...” Sky mused, his hands stilling over the piece of wood he was carving. “Maybe I should just ask Zelda to make it Hylian law to never hold balls.”

Four frowned and looked at Time. “Wouldn't that unraveled, you know, the fabric of time and space?”

Time shrugged, looking quite relaxed sitting by an old tree.

“Oh, right,” Sky mumbled, now hesitant.

Warriors fell on his knees. “I'd give you my firstborn, Sky! Please!”

Legend huffed. “Well, now he's gonna have to make those officials.”

Four put a hand on his forehead. “Does that count as a paradox? How many of those have we caused actually?”

“I meant Sky being straddled with Warriors' spawn, but sure. Tons of 'em.”

“HEY!”

#Linked Universe #Linkeduniverse #Lu Warriors #Lu Wild #Lu Legend #RO:ART

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tare-chan · 4 years

Text

Iduna, Elsa, Anna, and the 4 spirits

After several days of contemplating the story line of Frozen 2, I think I finally get the whole story. Well… this is still categorize as theory though, but as always, I will share my thoughts here.

I think Iduna and Gale’s roles are very important as the base story for Frozen 2

And I’m amazed how the animators managed to portrayed the spirits as ‘human’ as possible, with their distinctive recognizable traits.

Spoiler… spoiler….

Iduna, as a Northruldan, seems have a very close relationship with Gale, the wind spirits. (Gale seems like the kinder, easy going and friendlier spirits, who also very agile, and loves to play). We can see how they played around in the past sequences. Gale even help Iduna saves a boy, who actually was the “enemy”, and pushed them to safety, out of the forest border (I think the ‘ah-ah-ah’ calling voice is how Iduna ‘talks’ to Gale). I believe, even tough Gale was also trapped inside the forest, being “a” wind, he (I assume the spirits are all a “he” for my convenient writing purposes, btw) able to check on Iduna from time to time. Thus he can sense that Iduna has 2 daughters, one of whom, possessed the special “keys”, to lift the curse, as a gift for the good Iduna has done in the past. Gale didn’t exactly know which of the two daughters has the power tough.

Now the movie itself didn’t show how Iduna and Agnarr met, but from the trailer, we did see that Gale seems also playing with Agnarr. I presume, from that brief interaction, Iduna could tell that Agnarr was different from his Father (more on the curious side, rather than on the fear side, when interact with magic), and Gale agreed with her. Now, for the sake of drama, what if Iduna was the daughter of the Northuldran leader that was killed by Agnarr’s father? This will emphasize Iduna’s good deed even more, IMO. I wished the movie would showed us a little more of Iduna and Agnarr encounter. Anyway, from those tiny tidbits we get from the movie, I could assume that Agnarr didn’t remember who his saviour was. And Iduna choose to keep silent and prefer to build their relationship the ‘slow burn’ way. And of course (for the sake of the story) at the end, Agnarr choose Iduna to be his queen.

That until the first Frozen incident, that make Elsa need to be isolated. As the mother, Iduna have always known that Elsa is special. And obviously it really pained her to see her eldest daughter “suffer” because of her power, instead of embracing it. But even though she’s a Northuldran, it didn’t make her understand what the spirit’s good deed right away. I even think that Iduna actually forgot and never thought of it. Until the night her husband decide to tell a story about an Enchanted Forest, and she was asked to sing an old lullaby, that the “eureka” come to her mind, The brief scene of memories at Athohallan, where Iduna finally want to confess something to Agnarr, which he reply with ‘I’m listening’, make me believe that it was Iduna’s idea for them to travel North, to find Athohallan, in order to understand Elsa’s power and what purpose it held, so that Elsa will not suffer anymore. Because I believe, deep down in her heart, Iduna knows that whatever power Elsa has, is for great and good purpose. And of course, as every mother in this world, she only want the best for the daughter, and if to understand the purpose of Elsa’s power she have to travel North and face danger itself, she will do it. As good husband, of course Agnarr won’t let his wife travel alone, and went with her.

Unfortunately, the Nokk didn’t feels them worthy to step foot at the Athohallan, and drowned them. (I see Nokk as the more powerful, strict, by the book, will perfectly do his job, as the guardian of Athohallan. Thus only they who managed to survive his brutal test are allowed to step foot at Athohallan). But, being the place for spirits, Iduna’s spirit managed to get there in a way. And she finally understand what Elsa’s power is needed. Then her spirit wait, and in one way, start to send ‘voice signal’ to call Elsa to go to Athohallan.

The message was never delivered though, as Athohallan was a mystical place. That is until, Elsa unleashed her power in large scale (the eternal winter, the “Let it go” sequence). Such enormous power can be sensed by the spirits. And Gale might be the one to take action. After all, I presume he can sense Iduna’s call (the very same, very familiar ‘ah-ah-ah’ call). And starting from the end of Frozen 1, in 3 years time, he keep pushing the call towards Arendelle, hoping it was heard by whomever the message was sent for. Somehow, I feel Gale did this behind other spirit’s back (particularly Nokk, whom I see as the “leader” and the most “strict” of them all).

Thus he always checks from time to time, whether someone answered Iduna’s call. Somehow he can senses Iduna’s daughter. And because Anna is portrayed to inherited more of Iduna’s trait, I think Gale assume Anna would be the one who answered the call. There’s a scene where a wind carries a maple leave tickles Anna’s shoulder, when she was walking towards Olaf. And then the wind also whirled around Olaf. I think, it’s Gale sensing the two daughters of Iduna. (With Olaf carrying Elsa’s ‘magic’ sense), And that he is expecting someone to react to the call.

And then, one night, finally Elsa answered the call, and activated the rune crystals (Into The Unknown sequence). This summoning of the runes outside of the enchanted forest, enraged the spirits, and they intent to find whomever responsible for conjuring the runes, outside of the forest, without full knowledge of how to respect/use the power of the runes. On the other hand, Gale sense this as the sign he was waiting for. And being the spirit himself, he actually knows what need to be done to repair the past mistakes (destroying of the dam), and what will be the consequences (destruction of Arendelle). Considering his friendship with Iduna, and that those people lived in Arendelle were her beloved subjects, he took action. Unlike other spirits who immediately retract their powers, Gale pushed all living being outside of Arendelle (we clearly see him pushing Sven out of his stall), towards the higher ground.

Somehow, I think the one Elsa sensed as good (”Whoever calling me was good. My magic can sense it”) was Gale that has been delivering Iduna’s call. Elsa’s magic could sense Gale, because it came from the same source. Much grander, and different kind than Grand Pabbie’s, which make him didn’t managed to decipher the signs, even from Frozen 1, despite his good intention. But Pabbie’s managed to understand how grand the scale is, which leads him to warn Anna.

Then the main cast embark to their journey, and arrive at the forest’s border. The barrier open upon Elsa’s touch, under the spirits’ command. I guess, the spirits’ want to know who dare to conjure the runes, at the same time curious as why the person outside of the forest managed to do so, at the same time they want to test whether the person worthy of such power. Because, they must already know about the ‘bridge’/ the fifth element, that was needed to repair the past.

The first spirit to greet the group is of course, Gale, who’s very excited to finally able to ‘meet’ Iduna’s daughters. He even pushed the group to walk faster, cause he can’t wait any longer to greet them. Upon viewing that there’re actually 5 of them, he’s confused to decide which one of them possess the ‘key’. We can see how curious he is, as he often come and go near the group. Gale is not alone at this time. Bruni is also shown to be very curious at this outsider who step foot in their forest (and of course the Northruldan also sneaking around them). For a moment, these spirits move around Olaf, cause he’s the one ‘radiating’ magical sense for being an animated snowman. (Yes, including Nokk. As stoic as he is, he can’t stop his curiosity to see who are these people. But when he was met face to face with Olaf, he’s so surprised that he neigh and fled XD)

At certain point, Gale became impatient,and decided to swoop them up in a tornado, making this his ‘trial’, to see who actually hold the special ‘key’. I can see that Gale meant no harm when swooping the group up. The branch that nearly hit Anna wasn’t meant to hurt her. And lucky for him, at this time Elsa’s react to protect her sister, and thus confirming that she’s the one Gale’s been searching for. Thus he ‘spat’ the other party, and start the real “trial” to see how strong Elsa is. While at the same time, he’s trying to give as many message as possible to Elsa, which leads to the making of ice statues. Gale redeem Elsa’s worthy immediately of course. She’s Iduna’s daughter after all :) We can see his friendly trait right after the ‘trial’ has finished. He prank Kristoff, Sven, and Olaf, did an extra prank for Anna (whom he see really looks like Iduna), and did tiny prank to Elsa (cause he respect her).

During this time, Bruni was watching from the side. Then the gang encounter the Northruldan, and explain to them. He watched all the scene before him as quiet as possible. But then, Yelena said ‘We only will accept what the nature choose’. This clearly surprised him. (It’s kinda like “when you’re dozing off in class then suddenly the teacher point of you” kind of surprise) Thus his power blow out of control. Bruni panicking. And it cause the flame to grow even larger. I see Bruni as the ‘youngest’ of the spirit, and thus has less control of the flames, even more so when his emotion are not in control. Kinda like Elsa was in frozen 1.

Elsa senses this in away, and even though perhaps she thought this is the trial of the flame (which I think Bruni will said so if asked, so that he doesn’t look like he didn’t have full control of the flame), she accept the challenge, and put down the flames and even run after Bruni until he was trapped and has nowhere to go. But then, Bruni see that Elsa meant no harm, and in certain way, understand his current position (often misunderstood). And even further, Elsa’s the only one who could hold him (and her hand felt nice and cold). He befriend Elsa immediately. And so are the Northruldan.

During the camp, at night, we see how the Earth Giant came to the camp. From the conversation, this event is unusual. That’s because the Giant also sense Elsa’s power, and curious to see what cause the disturbances in the soil of Enchanted Forest. Somehow, I see the Giants as the slower type of spirit (slow in movement, and slow in deduction ability, just like the trait of earth). He’s slow in sensing Elsa’s power entering the forest, and slow in reacting to it, and couldn’t care less when at the end he didn’t managed to find the source, that they went off just like that.

The sisters saw this from different perspective, and decided that to not endangered the Northruldans, they decide to continue their journey right away. Lead by Bruni and Gale. Gale then showed the sister, the wreck of their parent’s ship. And by Elsa’s power, they finally know what happened to their parents, albeit a very horrifying truth that is. This leads Elsa to go and challenged Nokk by herself, and pushed Anna to ‘safety’.

The Nokk trial is, IMO, the most difficult and brutal trial Elsa have to conquer. Afterall, he’s a perfectionist, and very confident in his prowess, that he even ‘look down’ towards Elsa.

Never before we saw a ‘princess’ being drowned, thrown, splashed by giant waves, and dragged around under the sea, like Elsa before. And I love how badass Elsa was portrayed in this scene. (Apparently this scene already thought from the very beginning by the story creator, and what shaped the whole movie story. Amazing!). And when Elsa managed to tame the Nokk, is the moment that Nokk acknowledge her power, and thus pledge his loyalty to serve Elsa in fulfilling her destiny, and keeps her safe. After the trial, Nokk accompanies Elsa and help her reach the Athohallan, bow, and wait for her. (Horse is a very loyal animal after all). When Elsa’s thawed and thrown to the sea, he immediately took action and took Elsa to safety. This picture really shows Nokk loyalty towards Elsa (he deliberately keep Elsa’s face above water, so she wouldn’t get drown. But unfortunatelly this concept art didn’t make it to the movie). And then Nokk gives all his power to take Elsa to Arendelle as fast as he can, so that Elsa could stop the tidal wave. This Nokk development is my favorite :D

Meanwhile, Anna’s encounter with the Giants make her the ‘conqueror’ of the earth element. After standing up from her grief (which is my favorite Anna moment in the whole movie, that make me really proud of her), she took action by ‘manipulating’ the Giants to fulfill her goal. Now the Giant’s reaction is interesting to see. At first noticing Anna, his reaction was like “oh, so this is the one disturbing the peace! Get out! Get out!!”. Thus the Giants chase Anna (and Kristoff and Sven) around, throwing boulders. They even target Anna when she was standing at the dam. But noticed that the moment they understand what Anna make them do, and see that they nearly put Anna’s life in danger, they stop. Being one of the spirit, they must’ve known that the dam need to be destroyed, to restore peace and fixed the past. They really stop mid-throwing. And the look at their faces, it’s like “Oh…. ooohh… so that’s what you’re trying to do…. Oops… didn’t meant to hurt you”. (Like I said, they’re slow ^^;). And by the end of the movie, when Anna reunited with Elsa, we saw the giant standing there with his ‘guilty’ face, bowing towards the sisters, as if saying “Sorry……” (Awww…..)

I love how subtle the connection between Iduna’s past, the sisters bond, Elsa’s power, and the characterization of the nature’s spirits being portrayed in this Frozen 2. Even tough I need more time to contemplate this connections (and certainly the younger kids wouldn’t be able to grasp yet), which make Frozen 2 “harder to chew”, this make me love the movie even more. I think I’ll watch it again in the cinema XD.

anyway, if you managed to come to this end, Thank you for reading my super hella long theory. Sorry for grammar mistakes. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say, and hope to hear more from you and all Frozen fans out there :)

#frozen2 #frozen 2 #elsa #anna #spirits #frozen 2 spoilers #frozen2 spoiler #spoilers #spoiler #theory #analysis #my analysis

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cateringisalie · 3 years

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9 years later and we have at last got a new Eva film and the end of the Rebuild project.

Much was made at the start of Rebuild of the desire to introduce Eva to a new audience. 1.0 more or less leant into its original goal and restaged episodes 1 to 6 of the TV series with a bigger budget, CGI, some more blunt and early reveals and a few weird alterations for the existing fan base. The Angel numbering was off; everyone knows Lilith is stuck in the basement, Seele just default to their monoliths. Kaworu is actively introduced at the tail-end rather than alluded to in the opening titles. As an intro, its fine (though most would agree the equivalent stage of the TV series isn’t really a struggle to cope with either), though a few stylistic and environmental changes lead many to conclude this was a direct sequel to End of Evangelion. 2.0 seemed content to build off of the intro but steer away from the relevant section of episodes – roughly 8 to 17. Recognisable moments like the falling Angel, the corrupted Unit 03 and the ribbon angel and Unit 01’s impossible reactivation share the screen with altered relationship dynamics. Now we get Mari one of the few wholly new characters who gets to open the second film in a wildly dramatic fashion. The key of Nebuchadnezzar (which does at least re-enter proceedings in the final film, but I am even shakier on what it is or used for – even fandom seem to have struggle to explain this as anything other than a blunt drop-in replacement for the Adam embryo in the TV series). And come the end its time for Third Impact already, Shinji altering the world around him to rescue Rei from the depths of an Angel. Kaworu uses an unfamiliar spear to incapacitate Shinji and the preview hints at a story further from the rails than ever. 3.0 is as promised more or less completely divorced from anything Eva had done before. Just not the off-the rails version 2.0 advertised. Some will be quick to note that none of the Rebuild previews have entirely accurately advertised their subsequent instalment; 1.0’s features at least one key scene that never happened (Mistao slapping Ristuko in a seeming allusion to the Sea of Dirac Angel) while even the sequences of animation that did make it look nothing alike. Which is fair, but even then 2.0’s bears absolutely no resemblance to 3.0 and even 3.0’s very strange preview doesn’t really jibe with 3.0+1.0 ultimately. 3.0 is post-post-apocalypse and with a whole 14 years just evaporated between films. There’s a distinct last third of Nadia feel to it. About the only part similar to a former incarnation is Kaworu and Shinji’s relationship which while not even roughly mapping to episode 24 serves the same function; to make Shinji distraught before the climax of this story. But 3.0 is also the point where that initial premise of the series slams headlong into the drift from familiar territory. Where the film is a quantum leap away from the mystery terms and slow reveals. The oddities and confusions pile up given the glimpsed state of the world, the strange gridded moon, the sea of Eva corpses, the strange state of Lilith in the depths of Nerv. An awful lot happened while Shinji was (for reasons no one has explained or seems to care about except me) IN SPACE and the film only ever alludes to the sequence of events occurring between these two films in the broadest of strokes. Which if done a certain way can be compelling though I did not find it to be the case here in the slightest. It’s a huge struggle to build up even a vague idea of what went down and that’s with heavy deferral back to the TV series again. If you’re new, none of this means much of anything. Even mixed media doesn’t help. The reveal there was a limited run manga of events prior to 3.0 had a potential for answers, but upon reading a synopsis... Nope. Helps not even a tiny amount. Also this mixed media attitude is never to be encouraged. So, I didn’t like film 3 much at all. Film 4 does little to not be based on where it left off. Which is a small mercy that it doesn’t effectively toss everything out again and skip further ahead in time. And 3.0+1.0 does at least make use of some of what 2.0 revealed and setup in the spirit of trying to get this into something cohesive. It fails, but it tried. Maybe the points it touches on were the intended direction of the films. Maybe Anno changed his mind on this one. It’s not like Rebuild’s failure to cohere should be a surprise – the title of the film is simply confusing in sequence. Titled neither 4.0 nor 4.44, instead we have the pretty inexplicable 3.0+1.0 which is just annoying to type. Even thematically this doesn’t feel right given its more like 2.0 mushed into 3.0 but I suppose that’s technically film 5 so... Unless, 1.0 here is supposed to mean the original TV series or EoE, which... End of Evangelion figures unexpectedly largely in the film. Could be that its meant to infer some collection of the Eva cast (the original pilots + Mari? The Ikari family + Mari? The pilots from 1.0 (Shinji and Rei) plus the pilots from 3.0 (Asuka and Mari)?). The other part of course, is that the three prior films had titles in the form of [Thing](Not)]Thing]. 3.0+1.0 decides to dispense with this entirely and instead is titled “Thrice Upon a Time”. Nothing like confusing matters (and instead media library ordering) by not only giving the film a title that puts it before the 3rd film (since prior to this cinema releases are .0 and the home media (excepting the first release of 1.0) are triple digits of their instalment number) but also has another reference to three within it. It might be some kind of holy trinity allusion, some play on Third Impact, or an acknowledgement that this is theoretically the third version of events surrounding the end of the world (if you take TV series as 1, EoE as 2, and Rebuild as 3). Also potentially a literary reference about cyclical time and messages from the future which is all well and good and fits into a whole other essay about how Rebuild and FFVII Remake are operating on the same basis and making many of the same mistakes by both trying to be fan-service for the new fans and draw in new ones and do the big fan-moments similarly but diverge wildly off in others. Good start! The final film starts with bombast as per 2 and 3 (and thus focused on Mari) though the setup and point of the action is possibly more confused and less explicable (which is saying something given 3.0 opened with retrieving Unit 01 from space. No, I will continue to complain about not getting this. Yes it was very exciting but why was Unit 01 in space? In a strange crucifix coffin. Anyone at all?) – and only vaguely connected to anything resembling the plot. At least 2.0 and 3.0 had some immediate and long term stakes with a cover for Kaji stealing something and bringing Shinji into the plot. This film opens with a scrounge for spare parts in a red Paris that the tertiary cast make no longer red while Mari fights off a massed horde of Evas while battleships are puppeteered from orbit. It’s all terrible cool and everything, but given at no point do we even begin to understand what is going on or what the stakes even are. Which is a problem with the latter half of the sequence. 2.0 might have started with an Eva vs Angel fight but while there was ambiguity over the situation it at least seemed to lead into the eventual plot. Here we’re getting Eva spare parts for later and a whole dose of new terminology the film has no interest in explaining. Which is par for the course for prior Eva incarnations but again, I feel there was more explanation setting the weirdness up. Here we are reduced to keywords that sound important. The film proper opens with our familiar trio of Eva pilots winding up at a village with their old classmates (which of course, to follow the proliferations of 3 all the way down and also match to Tokyo-3, is in fact, Village 3. The far future sequel to Resident Evil 8 presumably). Who are necessarily now 14 years older than them. Asuka is naked (in a sequence to contrast to 1.0 and 2.0) or in her underwear for far too much of this sequence (and just as creepy as 2.0 got with this) as Shinji struggles in the aftermath of Kaworu’s death, Ayanami (critically not the Rei of 2.0) learns about life (and visits a library with – I’m not kidding – a poster for Sugar Sugar Rune on display. I like to think not many in the audience caught this slightly odd reference). 30 minutes of the film are taken up with Rei being happy and contented with her life while Shinji slowly recovers and re-enters polite society (sulks, throws up at the sight of the DSS collar, is insulted and force-fed). There’s a good case for this section just being an unnecessary time filler, though you don’t need to fill time in a film that is 2 ½ hours. But if it was cut down, perhaps it would have the same strange feeling as 1.0 had where the aftermath of Shinji’s second Angel fight lead was mostly skipped and left that part of 1.0 feeling strangely hasty and actively (and badly) abridged. Maybe that’s just my familiarity with the source material again. There’s still an edge of weirdness in the air on the film hits the 45 minute mark; even prior to this gigantic sections of the land are missing, and some things just float around now (apparently because). Past this mark is where weirdness creeps in; the barriers keeping the village from suffering the fate of Paris – the structures a curious match to the Cocytus facility at the start of 2.0. There are headless Eva copies who roam the landscape. An indicator on Ayanami’s suit runs down. Shinji is advised to talk to his father before he loses the opportunity forever. This one made me laugh, and even Asuka comments that given who Shinji’s father is and what he’s done don’t really make this plausible (or sensible). Ayanami concludes her pastoral life and this stage of the film by transforming back to her original white plug-suit; her AT Field then dissipates and she bursts in a familiar spill of LCL. For such a previously central character, Rei or Ayanami or Lilith will have exceptionally little bearing on the remainder of the film. The plot now kicks in properly as Gendo decides enough is enough and he’s going to be doing some world ending. Our Eva pilots are ready but not the same; we have Asuka, Mari and Shinji. And standing orders for Shinji to be shot if he tries to pilot anything (but given we’re at the end of the world and basically the original plan fails to stop Nerv bringing about the end of the world, that people still try to shoot him is... a little weird and an almost pointless resolution of factors the quaternary cast brought up in 3.0). The entire rest of the film is even more impenetrable and confusing than Kaworu’s sweeping explanations of what happened between films 2 and 3. If 3.0 fumbled the ball on being newcomer friendly 3.0+1.0 actively doesn’t care. Not that familiarity with series helps since so much new terminology is thrown at the audience. The entire cast – literally the entire cast – are not only caught up on but also understand the varying levels of psychological, biological and religious nonsense that Eva has formerly wielded as something almost coherent. You, as audience member, are not privy to a fraction of this understanding and thus left to flail for the remainder of the film making what you can of the maddening breadcrumb trail of exclamations and partial explanations. Shinji is no help here and infuriatingly asks barely a single question about what is going on (thankfully he does prompt Gendo to explain a few things – presumably where even the staff had gotten lost on what was supposedly going on). For existing fans, you might get a sense of it by application of known quantities from the previous incarnations (I pity newcomers struggling to make sense of this). What the Lance of Cassius is a thing introduced abruptly into the series – and contrasted with the Lance of Longinus you can muddle through to get some idea of what was going on. 3.0+1.0 however, decides that even that grip on its story is too much and adds a bunch more unnamed spears. Some of them formed from Lilith. This is a thing of some import apparently, though ultimately is effectively buzzword name-checking. We know who Lilith is in context from both 1.0 and the TV series but how that relates to spear formation is beyond me. And then there’s the part where one of the flying ships (there were four made according to Seele’s plan. Seele, the former sinister puppet-masters, who died in film 3, and if the flying ships were their idea or this stated at all, I had totally forgotten it in the last 9 years (checking wikia seems to indicate no one else knew this either so I feel vindicated). Seele feel an artefact of the old Eva Anno has no time for – EoE had what equated to three groups vying for control of the process of human instrumentality. Seele are adhering to a prophecy of sorts, Gendo is trying to subvert that process for his own ends, and Misato is trying to stop it. In terms of economical story-telling, the distinction between Seele and Gendo’s goals in causing Third Impact are so slim as to be basically zero (few critical differences though), I suspect Seele were deemed unnecessary and shuffled out of proceedings hastily despite their continued name-checking at this late stage) is turned into another spear because if all the spears are used up, the end of the world can’t be averted. You will have to forgive me for failing to notice how and where most of these spears (save three) wound up or what most of that means or why or how or anything. But we have a budget to squander and why not channel the Gurren Lagann energy for action one last time? And there is some action, this presumably part of what a good section of the audience have waited for with baited breath, that thing the TV series so rapidly lost interest in; that EoE staged for narrative cruelty. Smashy giant robot action time! So we get billions of Eva enemies for Asuka and Mari to cut through without problem. They explode and fall away despite exhaustively overwhelming numbers. There is a palpable lack of threat here. A few hitches but nothing the pilots can’t cope with. It’s just empty fan-service, a boast about how much can be rendered into a single frame. We get Asuka, unable to stab critically important Unit 13 (looking distinctly Unit 01-like just with four arms), and then hooking into an odd leftover thread from 2.0. Her accident in the activation test of Unit 03 has left her with a part of herself now more correctly classified as an Angel. And like 2.0 for surprise value, her Eva has special Angel blood injectors to again overcharge her Eva (which seems to be a thing in the latter three films – turn the Eva safety off and go beserk. As if Unit 01 didn’t do that all on its own in the first and second film). And this too fails. But this too is just another moment of important and pretention. Where the audience is meant to gasp at Eva/Angel hybridisation (not that the dividing line between Angles and Evas is ever completely clear (not least Unit 03)), at Asuka revealing herself to be part Angel (as if Kaworu and Rei weren’t established examples). So her Eva bloated and animalistic is... just another moment. We saw this in 2.0 with Mari releasing her limiters. We saw it in 3.0 in almost the same way. The distinction isn’t meaningfully different to the last few times the Evas were let off the leash and became more brutal. And just like the prior times this escalation of Eva body horror, ferocity, blood and over-indulged violence doesn’t actually help the situation. Asuka fails in her task as the Unit 13 counter-attacks. She’s saved by getting pulled out of reality moments before her end. Of course this being narrative, this being Eva; Gendo, the architect of this situation, is three steps ahead. Misato’s flying ship is badly and perhaps critically damaged so Gendo can retrieve the limbless body of Unit 01 formerly powering the flying ship. Shooting Gendo doesn’t work thanks to the key of Nebuchadnezzar (which did... Uh. Something? Kaji noted it as the lost number kept as a spare in 2.0 which implied Angel or Eva or... No I don’t know nor can I make sense of what it’s done to Gendo. Wikia informs me that while it’s never seen on-screen past the one time, its case is in some shots of 3.0. How amazing) and he leaves. And thus, of course, Shinji must get in the f-ing robot once more. But we’re back to the confident, more certain Shinji who 2.0 birthed as we enter the last (but still very long) final stage of the film – and restage End of Evangelion. Curious of course; EoE by turns can feel like a legitimate replacement for the final two TV series episodes or a bleakly, darkly, disturbing and flippant retort to the low-budget metaphysic version of the TV apocalypse. EoE to some has been not so much the intended ending (though buying a complete set of the old Eva in Japan will always net you the 26 original TV episodes, the four amended episodes and EoE), but more a poisoned chalice for the people who wanted a less introspective version of the end of the world and the process of human instrumentality. Anno was free to do what he wanted and veer off the tracks here – he can’t get away from the end of the world – this is integral to Eva’s base concept. 2.0’s glimpse of Second and the starts of Third Impact depict a process completely unfamiliar from the TV series’s version (reading Wikia explains some of 2.0’s imagery but is still bewildering with reference to 3.0+1.0’s reveals). In Rebuild, the end of the world is staged in the space below the strange aftermath of Second Impact, in an anti-universe where humans cannot venture. And yet, we are still clearly revisiting End of Evangelion. Not exactly the same, but a lot of imagery (the symbols in the sky, the gigantic form of Lilith at multiple points, the crucifix explosions across Earth’s surface) – to say nothing of some actual sections of animation – are taken straight from the 1997 film. Those moments and images were haunting and disturbing (the more overtly sexualised imagery has been completely removed). Clearly no matter what was said at the time or in the interim, EoE is in fact how the ending must play out; this is, or has become, what happens externally and internally when these characters attempt to force a next stage of evolution. The End of Evangelion will always be the end. ...just not quite the same. Not least it is missing most of the infamous moments (Shinji in Asuka’s hospital room is notably completely absent). There’s no moment where Shinji strangles Asuka, Komm Susser Tod is missing entire (in favour of something similar sounding but in Japanese), the live-action sequences of the empty cinema or the world without Evas aren’t utilised (though some live action footage is included), Rei betraying Gendo and beginning Third Impact outside his control etc. It's actively absurd to type this, but Lilith – Lilith! – has less character here. Which is so astonishingly absurd given the only depiction of Lilith we get is effectively Rei/Rei was Lilith the entire time, but those introspective sequences hinting at something more involved with Rei or the points Lilith does talk directly to Shinji are gone too. This shouldn’t be a surprise – we are after all missing a Rei character at the climax. Mostly. 3.0+1.0 almost expects you to remember the last time you saw Eva end the world and contrast it to this new version. The EoE imagery, the footage of Lilith descending from the crucifix, the looming figure of Lilith rising as humanity ends. Even something like the sequence of the backsides of cels running backward is reused – this footage also cribbed from EoE and played out on a wall between two characters. The animation breaks down into scratchy storyboards and later degenerates from finished footage down to outlines, animatics, and storyboard. The end of the world is this time around is more heavily meta. Both EoE and the TV episodes “staged” the process of Instrumentality (or parts of it) for Shinji. It occurs in filming spaces and on sets, there’s lighting equipment and dolls as stand-ins. The strange artificiality of pulling back the curtain on the TV or film production, or else the effect of setting the camera back further than you should for filming a theatrical experience. But even that’s a false layer given a true pull-back would be to people in front of computers or previously drawing key-frames. Here the staging is more blunt still. It begins with an Eva vs Eva fight between Gendo and Shinji in the anti-universe where their brains make sense of the impossible space with artificially staged areas of familiar locations. A fight in a city has a huge sheet as a backdrop and carboard buildings the Evas kick around. They fight in front of Nerv headquarters and in Misato’s kitchen. A blow knocks over a section of scenery and sprawls Shinji in the studio space surrounding the set. A crossroads of sort where Shinji will move on from Gendo to meet with Rei, Kaworu and Asuka. The major difference to EoE is that the end here is much more concerned with Gendo; we dive into his psyche and his past. His isolation and desire for it. This feels extremely confessional for Anno all things considered given Gendo was always previously kept at arm’s length. This feels revealing about the man behind it all, a reflection of the director. He has admitted during production that at his stage of life he is far closer to Gendo than Shinji – I think this is barely obfuscated here. The flashback is more about understanding Gendo and how Yui changed him than anything about Evas or the end of the world. Gendo’s motivation is revealed to be the same as always; this is how he gets to be with Yui again. Odd details catch as this past plays out. And is that Mari in his memories? Mari, who Fuyustuki calls Mary Iscariot upon meeting her and has prepared something for her. Which feels much more like religious buzz words; there’s an obvious implication coached in that selection of a name, but how it actually relates to the story or the circumstances is really unclear. Nor am I clear on what Fuyutsuki prepared. He explodes into LCL like last time too. The process is so close to EoE but the mood is lighter and the reasoning behind the cast a little different. Asuka is part of a clone series – same as Rei. Just without the physical signifiers that Kaworu and Rei exhibit and the prior short-hand for clones in this universe (as noted, their design is intended to invoke lab rats). Nice consistency there. The beach ending from EoE is re-done under a blue sky; Asuka is saved thanks to Shinji and Mari working in concert. Kaworu’s beach meeting with Shinji is restaged, the newer, confident Shinji discussing the circular system that delivers Kaworu into his place at the end of the world. So Eva has happened before, meta-wise or time-wise or dimensionally. Take it as you will, no interpretation is more valid than another. Only that Kaworu remembers them all. It’s happened before and it’s expected to happen again. But Shinji’s different now, so the end of the world is different. Now it’s time to move on; Kaworu is left with Kaji to tend the earth assured the cycle of Eva productions is at an end – both have been dead all this time. Anno’s attitude to his seeming forever association with this one franchise his and his desire to set it down and move on? EoE finished in space; 3.0+1.0 finishes beneath the Antarctic. The idea of Unit 01 living forever as a testament to humanity is no factor at all Shinji intending (and his parents possibly driving) the final riddance of the Evas from reality – none can be allowed to remain. But now, the film takes an odd turn, and as with EoE, there’s the coda. In EoE this was the beach scene. For Rebuild: The sun shines, the sky is blue. An adult Shinji sits in a train station and meets with Mari. She’s older too now; the pair share a kiss and run from the station hand in hand. So. Uh. Yeah. That happened. There’s Kaworu and Rei seemingly alive and well as adults. And Asuka of course. But Shinji winds up with Mari. Mari who knew everything the whole time and might somehow have been part of Gendo’s group at university and known Yui and no, we are not getting any insight into those peculiarities! (or more plausibly it could be Mari’s mother who looks near identical to Mari but... What are we meant to take from this, really?). Mari who met Shinji in a handful of brief moments and has never spent any actual time with him. Mari won the love-triangle! But this is not some simple alternate reality, a different better take world where the cast existed in something resembling our reality; Shinji still wears the exploding DSS collar given to him before rejoining the giant robot fray. Mari effortlessly removes it from his neck. The film ends with a live-action sequence – this is reportedly Anno’s hometown. The world without Evas; we passed the relevant date while 3.0+1.0 was stalled. Shinji made it to 2014, or more plausibly past it in a world without Second Impact. And he’s happy, well-adjusted, and... Not really recognisable as Shinji. Shinji now exists in the present, not the future as he had for so long in pop-culture. But he’s in a different 2021; a world without the pandemic. And that was Rebuild; a project intended as a new introduction to Evangelion that blatantly had its entire core conceit revised at least twice (the 4th film delayed because of Shin Godzilla and then a struggle to write at all) that increasingly and confusingly leant more and more on its famed initial incarnation even as it veered increasingly and erratically away from the familiar sequences. I liked 3.0+1.0 more than 3.0, but can’t help but still bemoan whatever 3.0 was going to be when 2.0 happened. The alternate other sequence. And despite it all, despite the allusions to a repetition of Eva and of this being the break in the chain, even those working on and involved with the film see even this as a definitive end. Even Anno’s not convinced that’s the last word. Eva will come back all over again; naturally – there’s money to be made here, and what’s yet another alternate take to add to the TV series, the manga, the games, the other manga, EoE, Rebuild and so on. Kaworu apparently is indeed doomed to revisit this forever alongside everyone else and also remember that for once he was gifted a true end. An impossible conclusion for modern pop-culture it feels.

#long post

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