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lilyevanstan1325 · 5 months

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❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 2

I've always been a good girl.

A good daughter.

A good friend.

A diligent student.

I got good grades at school.

I had a lot of friends.

I always helped my mother with the housework.

I didn't messing around with my peers.

On Saturdays, instead of lazing in bed, I helped dad with his beloved garden.

Every Saturday morning him, me and my mother all had breakfast together.

We spent more than an hour sitting at the table eating mom's pancakes.

We always made fun of her because she always came out with some mess.

Her pancakes were always too raw or too burnt or she used salt instead of sugar.

And we stood there, laughing together.

Happy.

We told each other about our week and what we wanted to do.

Dad never missed the opportunity to kiss her temple or her cheek and I watched them enraptured.

Almost jealous that I too have not yet found a love so great, so all-encompassing.

Mom, oh yeah she knew me well!

She always knew exactly what was going on in my mind.

“Don't worry, darling, one day you too will find the man of your dreams” she said to me one morning after my father steals another kiss from her, earning my embarrassed look and a loud snort from the man sitting next to her.

“Don't be ridiculous, honey.Summer is still too young” he replied almost angrily, getting up from the table and starting to collect the now empty plates.

Mom and I giggled in unison.

His jealousy towards his only adored daughter was well known in the house and we often teased him about it.

I straightened my back and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Mom was much younger than me when you met” I replied piqued with a sly and mischievous smile.

“It was different” he muttered, his back to us as he stood at the kitchen sink.

More giggles followed his words.

Now in the oblivion of the death I can remember many small details that I didn't even notice at the time.

For example, mom's slightly pale complexion.

She thought it was a little seasonal flu.

“I'm fine, I'm fine” she had repeated several times that week.

“It's just that the other evening I took out the trash without putting on my jacket and the air was cold”

And instead it was the disease that was slowly and inexorably taking over her body.

The light that morning reflected on the marble top of the kitchen counter, making her large eyes shine, hypnotizing me with their beauty.

Sun that was blindingly reflected even in her long golden hair.

They remind me the ripe wheat in summer.

That morning she was still wearing her pajamas with a photo of our family on the shirt, an old Christmas present from me.

Dad, for his part, was wearing an old sweatpants and his old, tattered Star Wars sweatshirt, a sweatshirt that mom hated so much that she even tried to make it disappear but in the end she had given in to the irresistible pout of her beloved husband.

So they had reached a compromise, as they always did.

They almost never argued, they always worked hard to find a meeting point.

So in the end they came to the conclusion that if my father didn't want to see his beloved sweatshirt in the garbage he can could only wear it during his gardening sessions.

My father turned slowly, keeping his large eyes, the same color and intensity of soft, hot chocolate, fixed on me.

“You're still a kid, I don't see the point in discussing it now, right?” he repeated but this time looking at my mother.

Her, with a shrug and a sly smile, got up from her chair to reach his side.

Her small and delicate hands found my father's face and after caressing his cheeks with the tips of her fingertips, she placed a quick kiss on his lips.

“I'm sorry but this time I'm with her” she whispered to him and then turned her back on us and headed towards the stairs.

“Have fun in the garden” she greeted us with a quick wave of her hand, leaving me in the throes of laughter and his husband with the signs of betrayal on his face.

I knew that she was secretly happy that I loved spending my Saturday morning among his flowers because, before I was old enough to help him, my father forced my mother to do it and she hated it but she loved him more and she indulged him.

Now, however, she had Saturday morning all to herself and she spent it locked in the bathroom, immersed in a tub of hot water with the foam gently lapping her body and a good book to keep her company.

“Come on, I'll help you” I huffed, getting up from my seat and joining my father near the sink.

“The sooner we finish washing the dishes and the sooner we can go in the garden”

My father's eyes moved from the stairs, from where his other half had disappeared, to rest them on me again with a look I had never seen on him before.

A sad look but also infinitely proud and full of love.

As if he was really realizing that he no longer had that five-year-old girl next to him who asked him to carry her to bed because her little legs were tired after spending the afternoon in the park.

No, in front of him, he now saw a beautiful and capable young woman, ready to make many men lose their minds.

Men who wouldn't have been him.

He just wanted to be the only man in her life because he would never make her suffer.

Never.

Even if at the ends of the world it had happened...

He broke her heart.

We washed the dishes in silence and then always in silence we went to the back garden of our beautiful little house.

Washington was a really nice place to live.

In that area, in this quiet and peaceful suburb, him and my mother had purchased this small house, and decided at the time to fill it with love and children.

Love had never been lacking but alas the children had not arrived.

After years of painful miscarriages they had decided to give up and when they were thinking about adoption I arrived.

The story of the discovery of my existence has always brought tears in my eye because I was finally able to understand how much I was loved without any reservations from the very first moment, since I was just a small mass of cells measuring a few millimetres.

“It was a hot morning, summer was upon us” my mother's words resonate clear and strong in this darkness that death is.

“For a few mornings I had been feeling strangely dizzy and your father kept telling me he wanted to take me to Doctor Monroe.But I didn't want to go and I knew why.I was afraid.Afraid that the doctor would give me yet another bad news.I knew my period was late but I didn't want to give myself any false hope.I knew that soon the blood loss would confirm to me that my body was not capable of caring for my child”

Her big green eyes were a reflection of my own.

Shiny with tears and unconditional love.

“So that morning, after your father left for work, I went to the pharmacy to buy some pregnancy tests.Your father found me sitting on the bathroom floor, four pregnancy tests all positive placed in front of me.I was crying so much that I couldn't even find the strength to say a single word”

“God, when I saw her like that, on that floor, my heart stopped for a moment”

At the sound of his raspy voice we both turned our heads, looking behind us.

Dad was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes full of love.

He was wearing a blue sweater from which the collar of a white shirt protruded and his legs were wrapped in a pair of dark jeans.

The graying hair at his temples was elegantly combed.

Looking at him like that, with the light from the fireplace reflecting elegant shadows on his face, I could perfectly understand why my mother had fallen for him so hard to the point of deciding to get married at the age of eighteen.

We were so enraptured by our confidences that we didn't realize that it was already 5pm and that my father had returned from work.

With a small push he move away from the door and joined us on the sofa.

He kissed my mother on the head and then did the same to me and sat next to me, his strong arm around my shoulders and his scent filling my lungs and heart.

“I sat next to her and I started crying too” he admitted with a hint of shame coloring his cheeks.

“I should have been a man and consoled her, told her that everything would be fine…but instead I was stunned and scared.Full of hope and fear.I didn't want to go through that hell again and above all I didn't want her to go through it again"

While he spoke he never took his eyes off the woman he had promised to love and protect for his whole life.

My mother spoke up again.

“We decided to take it slow.We waited three weeks to go for an ultrasound.It was June 20th.The first day of summer we discovered of your existence" my mother whispered with the sweetest look I had ever seen on her face.

“That's why we decided to call you Summer” she added immediately after stroking my arm.

It was the first time I heard the true origin of my name.

I was ecstatic and euphoric.

I loved the idea that my name had such a deep meaning, full of a story of revenge on life.

“It's a wonderful name.I'm sorry I despised it when I was younger” I giggled sheepishly, wiping away the tears that had unconsciously begun to spill from my eyes, making them both laugh out loud.

Yeah, because I hated it when I was a child.

I hated my name because some kids at school teased me by calling me Winter or Spring.

“Don't worry my love, just thank me for not letting your father choose the name” mom giggled, wiping away my tears with the tip of her thumb and earning an indignant look from my father.

“Hey!Leia is a beautiful name” my father replied piqued pointing a finger at her.

"Seriously?Did you really want to name me after a Star Wars character?” I squeaked, my voice an octave higher, turning completely towards him and meeting his playful gaze.

He ruffled the hair on the top of my head and stood up.

"Women!You don't understand anything about good films” he muttered, leaving us alone.

Laughing, I hugged my mother eagerly, burying my face in her warm and welcoming chest.

Her skin smelled like home, security and love to me.

Her delicate hands caressed my back with slow, gentle movements.

“Thank you for sharing this story with me” I smiled at her thanking her and then got up to go find my father and continue to tease him a little about the origins of my name.

My mind quickly returns to my old memory of that distant autumn morning in the garden.

The silence continued to linger between us as we continued to dig small furrows on the ground with our hands wrapped in sturdy garden gloves.

I knew my father was very jealous of me and I was afraid I had overdone the jokes that morning so I was mustering up the courage to apologize for going too far with the joke but before I could open my mouth he did.

“I know you're a woman now.I'm not stupid.You're 24 years old and you've been living alone for over a year now...it's just that...that you'll always be my little girl for me, you know?”

His words filled my eyes with tears.

His eyes instead were fixed on his dirty and worn gloves.

He dropped, sitting on the cold, hard ground.

His legs raised and his arms resting on his knees.

I felt paralyzed, kneeling in front of him.

In front of that man who, despite the endless hard blows that life has reserved for him, did nothing but give me unconditional love.

After a few moments of silence his eyes found mine.

“The most selfish part of me just wants to keep you safe but I know it's right for you to have your own life, for you to find a man who truly loves you.Someone who can take care of you when I can no longer do so”

The mere idea that one day he would no longer be with me shattered my heart and made me tremble.

I shook my head to chase away that horrible possibility.

“Dad” I whispered with a low voice, avoiding his gaze so as not to show him my pain.

His reference to the fact that he might one day die had shaken me to the core.

I knew that, in many many years, it could happen but I always avoided thinking about it.

“No Summer, listen”

His hand, strong but at the same time capable of disarming kindness, squeezed my arm.

My eyes goes immediately on him.

We were both filled with such immense love that it was impossible to explain in words.

"I'm not angry.Really.I just want you to make the right choice.May you choose someone who treats you well, who listens to you and who loves you as you deserve to be loved”

We were both on the verge of tears.

I understood how much that small admission cost him and so, trying to lighten the moment, I hugged him quickly, risking making both of us fall.

I sank forcefully into his arms, always so warm and welcoming, basking in all his love.

“Big shoes to fit for the man that come” I whispered against his chest hoping he would understand that I would never settle for someone who wasn't at least a shred of what he was.

“You will always be my first true love, daddy” I added, enjoying that moment of pure love.

The memory dissipates from my mind as if it had been a pile of leaves blown away by a gust of wind, leaving me alone again in the darkness of death.

It's weird that death chose this memory to bring back to my mind.

A sweet but deeply painful memory.

And maybe that's exactly the point.

Pain.

The pain both physical and mental that continues to follow me even after death.

Why?

Why does it have to hurt so much?

Wasn't it enough that my death had been painful?

Why do I have to continue to suffer even now?

The pain is all around me so intense and immense that I don't understand where it comes from.

I don't feel the contours of my body, just a pain that I can't place.

A costant pain, almost annoying.

Why does it still hurt?

Why is there only darkness and pain?

Pain and darkness.

Where is the heaven?

Where are my fucking wings and my white clouds to rest cradled by the hand of God?

Where is my mom?

I thought that once I died I had a chance to be again with her.

To live my eternal rest in her loving arms, lulled by the sound of her angelic lullabies.

So there is nothing after death except darkness and pain?

No choirs of angels or white lights?

Fuck.

Nice swindle.

After a few moments or an infinity of centuries, I have no sense of time in this dark and desolate place, another wave of pain arrives but this time there is something different...

I can feel my fingers.

Slowly and with immense effort it seems that my body is regaining its contours.

Its shape.

First I contract the tips of my fingers, I hear the slight crunch of the dry leaves beneath them, then I move on to those of my feet.

They are there and they seem to work.

After moments or hours I feel my head.

I barely move it with absolute caution, I moving it only a few inches but the movement causes a stinging pain at the base of my neck.

Then that pain again and this time a gasp escapes my lips.

“Please stop”

My voice sounds unknown to my ears, hoarse and croaking.

And finally I find my eyes which, with an inhuman effort, reopen.

But there is no light in front of me, there is no sky...there is only a huge dark shadow.

I squeeze my eyelids tight.

Now a new feeling pervades me.

Fear.

That shadow is here for me.

It came to get me.

It is the death that, wrapped in its dark cloak, has decided to come and claim its new victim.

That pain again.

And now I know where it comes from.

From my side, at rib level.

But this time the pain is followed by a voice.

So does death have a voice?

I try to concentrate on opening my eyes again and very slowly I succeed, my eyelids flicker slightly in the process but after a few moments my vision adjusts.

The blurred edges of the death take on a sharp and decisive profile.

There is a man in front of me.

My weak heart jumps into my throat giving me a rush of adrenaline that gives me the strength to bring my right hand to my thigh in search of my knife but my hand finds nothing along its path.

Where's my knife?

And my machete?

“If you're looking for your weapons, I have them”

And even if the words come distorted in my brain I understand what he's telling me.

Damn.

The man speaks again but no sound reaches my ears.

I try to concentrate all my attention on his lips, which are still moving, to understand the meaning of the words that come out but without great results.

So I go back to focusing on his eyes.

Are they… clear?

They appear light blue, his eyebrows furrowed.

The hair, short on the sides and longer on the top, frames a face with a square and firm jaw, covered with a light layer of beard.

Some dark blonde locks fall lazily over his eyes making his gaze even more menacing and scary.

On his upper lip, on the left, a small mole stands out.

His lips move again and this time I catch the last words of the sentence.

“…name?”

I look at him confused, trying to answer in turn.

Of course I look like shit right now.

Sprawled on the ground, in this remote forest of Georgia, with filthy clothes and the look of a psychopath.

“What…” I clear my throat.

Wrong move.

It burn, everything burn.

But I have to speak before this stranger decides it's easier to kill me.

"What did you say?" I gasp painfully.

“Ya got a name?” the man repeats slowly this time, pronouncing the words as if he were talking to a stupid person.

A strong southern accent colors his words.

His tone is threatening, as if I really could be a threat to him right now.

Is he really serious?

Is this the way to talk to another human being with one foot already in the grave?

And if before I was scared now I only see red.

Just anger.

“Yeah, I have a name.You no?Didn't your mother give you one?”

For a moment his look seems surprised but it lasts a fraction of a second, such a short period of time that for a moment I think I imagined it.

His arms rise in front of him.

His large muscles flex sinuously beneath his sunburned skin.

A look of pure hatred dances in his eyes like the flames of hell.

And if I used to have to worry about an angry redneck now I have to worry about an angry redneck with a huge crossbow, crossbow aimed right at my face.

My father was right, my damn sarcasm would get me in trouble one day.

Shit.

I close my eyes trying to calm my nerves.

There is nothing I can do at the moment, I only have two paths I can take.

Either I bite my tongue and try to be civil to this stranger or I end up with an arrow between my eyes.

And the man's subsequent words confirm this to me.

“Yer name” says the man firmly, adding immediately after “Before I lose my patience and put a bolt between yer pretty eyes”

Inhaling deeply I try to lift my head but to no avail so I just reopen my eyes and point them into the eyes of the archer who towers menacingly over me.

“Summer.That's my name”

I maintain eye contact as he studies me intently, trying to figure out if he can trust me.

Which is saying a lot.

What on earth could I do to him if I can't even lift my head without feeling nauseous?

During his silence I take the opportunity to study him in turn.

He has broad shoulders, defined muscles that adhere almost indecently to the sleeveless t-shirt he is wearing.

His chest is so massive it makes me shiver.

The muscles in his arms are tense as they hold that weapon, a weapon so simple but so scary at the same time.

My gaze travels down his legs, the massive muscles of his thighs barely squeezed into a pair of filthy jeans.

I see him take a step forward and I reflexively tense up, stopping his advance.

Maybe he doesn't want to hurt me.

Maybe if I behave, this harsh stranger could mean the difference between life and death.

The difference between my life and my death.

“Why are you lying there?”

What the fuck?

What the fuck is that question?

What on earth can a person do stand still on a forest floor during an apocalypse?

What does he think I'm doing?

That I'm getting a tan?

But gathering every ounce of self-control I opt for a polite response, something that can explain the current pitiful state in which I find myself.

“I haven't eaten or drunk for days.I think I lost consciousness..." I whispered defeatedly, looking at the sky in search of the sun.

It's lower in the sky than I remember.

How long have I been lying here?

“I lost consciousness maybe an hour, maximum two hours ago.I'm waiting to die...so... if you want to finish the job that this fucking apocalypse has started...please be my guest”

I say the last words with a placid resignation.

Maybe continuing to live is the wrong choice.

Maybe there is nothing in Atlanta and even if there was something, what would I have to survive for?

I've lost everything.

I lost everyone.

After endless moments his voice breaks the silence around us again.

“Where are ya from?”

“Washington”

“Where were ya headed?”

Why lie now.

“Atlanta.I was looking for salvation”

“Are ya alone?”

“Yes”

And this hurts more than death.

Yes, I'm alone.

Completely and hopelessly alone.

Our little conversation, more like a little interrogation I dare say, ends here.

I close my eyes again placing my fate in the dirty strong hands of this man with eyes like the sky.

Eyes that seem to hide a kaleidoscope of emotions behind a wall of aggression.

I try to regulate my breathing.

I don't want to show my weakness because I'm not.

I am strong.

I walked for days, trying to survive with all my strength.

I hear the leaves crunching under his huge boots, the sound seems to be right next to my ears now.

“Take it”

His voice sounds less angry than it did a few minutes ago so I risk a glance towards his feet.

I open my eyes and take a few seconds to make sense of what I'm seeing.

The archer is bent on his knees, the enormous crossbow is tied to his back by a strap that crosses his chest.

His hand is stretched out towards me and in it there is a bottle of water.

Trying to channel all my strength into my arms, I use them to leverage myself and try to sit up and magically I succeed.

At least I can do it without throw up.

Great.

I bring my hand closer to the bottle and I notice that a slight tremor runs through my fingers, I don't know if it is due to my close experience with death or due to my proximity to this mysterious man.

The stern frown on his face doesn't disappear even when I grab the bottle and thank him with a slight nod.

I try to unscrew the cap several times but the plastic cap continually slips from my weak grip.

The man snorts, arrogantly taking the bottle out of my hands, being careful not to touch my fingers and with a quick and decisive movement unscrews the cap.

When I think that he is about to give me the bottle back I am petrified by his next move.

He leans towards me slightly bringing the bottle directly to my lips.

I think he realized that I don't have the strength to do it.

Docilely I bring my lips to the bottle, welcoming the first drops with trepidation.

When the water touches my tongue I feel my eyes fill with tears.

I drink slowly, closing my eyes, one sip at a time.

Part of me would like to swallow all the water in a single gulp but I am aware that I would only risk to throw up and feeling worse so, when I think I have drunk enough for the moment, I move my lips away.

The archer closes the bottle and drops it on my lap.

I think in his jargon of rude gestures and grunts this means take it.

I watch him as he stands up grabbing his backpack lying near my feet.

And now?

What happen?

Will he go?

Will he leaves me here alone to die?

As grateful as I am for his kind gesture, a bottle of water certainly won't save my life.

And the night is getting closer.

I have to find a safe place and quickly too.

“Can ya walk?”

His hoarse voice pierces my ears and reaches my brain.

Confused by his question, I look at his shoulders, his crossbow...and I can't understand if I can trust this man.

I try to get up, my legs are shaking but they seem to hold me up.

"I can try.Why?"

But a sudden swish catches our attention.

In the distance I hear growls.

Biters.

Shit.

I'll die.

I'm a burden right now and I'm more than sure that a person would never risk his life for a stranger.

But for the umpteenth time he surprised me.

He raises his hand in my direction, beckoning me with his fingers.

“Move” he orders me, leaving me perplexed.

In his eyes there is no agitation, there is no fear.

This man knows what he's doing.

He doesn't fear these fucking monsters.

He approaches me threateningly and I take a step back.

"M'not gonna hurt ya.But if ya don't move your ass I'll leave ya here.Ya understand, sunshine?”

It's the longest sentence I've ever heard him say.

His tone is authoritative, his voice confident with that sweet southern lilt that makes his words sticky and sweet as honey.

I am sure that he will do what he says as I am sure that he doesn't want to hurt me.

He had all the time available to do it and yet he decided to help me and he intends to do it again by taking me away with him.

When I'm about to answer him the growls get louder.

I only have time to register a movement behind me and as soon as I turn around what I see is a biter with an arrow stuck between his eyes.

My gaze returns to him, he has already lowered his crossbow and with one last step he approaches me leaving only a few steps of distance between our bodies.

I can feel the heat emanating from his large and tensed body.

Then without any warning he takes another step and grabs my wrist dragging me away with him.

Dazed and scared, I try to keep up with his pace even though I'm sure he's the one adapting to mine.

How do I know?

As a first clue I would say that his long and strong legs could pump harder than this and secondly his constant hangry scowl accompanied by little snorts every time my tired feet get caught in the vegetation.

But despite all this, the grip around my wrist doesn't loosen.

"Where do we go?" I pant, trying to concentrate all my mental and physical abilities in this fucking run.

As the archer runs he seems to have no hesitations about where his next destination is.

He stomps his feet on the ground with determination.

I risk a look behind me and I realize that at least a dozen of those horrible beings are following us.

If he had been alone he would have eliminated them without hesitation but now his goal is to get to a safe place to save us.

He knows that I am unable to defend myself and this mortifies me.

If he dies today it will only be my fault.

With this thought I try to pump my thighs as much as I can, increasing the pace of my step making it more confident and decisive.

In the air of this late afternoon at the end of summer the only sound present is the frantic panting of two human beings trying to survive.

Our boots pound hard on the dry, sun-baked ground.

And after what seems like an eternity we emerge from the woods.

I look around curiously.

We are at the top of a hill and in the distance there is a beautiful farm that seems to have remained untouched since the end of the world.

It almost seems like a place out of time.

A bit as if it were a painting, those beautiful paintings on canvas that my mom loved so much to paint.

The man tugs on my arm, silently inviting me with a look to run faster because here we are.

Finally here we are.

That farm is our salvation.

My eyes are focused on those white wooden walls.

For the first time I feel a small spark of hope inside me.

Maybe I won't die, not today at least.

My feet live a life of their own and accelerate thanks to the adrenaline that now flows through my veins.

Too caught up in my own euphoria I don't notice that the archer has stopped so my run is interrupted so abruptly that my neck is jerked violently.

I stop panting, looking at him as if he suddenly had two heads.

"We are almost there.Let's go” I pant impatiently.

But he's not even listening to me.

His back is to me and without releasing his grip on my wrist he uses his free hand to pull a gun from the back pocket of his jeans and uses it to fire a shot at the biters.

“Duck” he orders me, letting me go and turning his head slightly in my direction.

Instinctively I obey and bend down on my knees, holding my arms over my head.

I don't even have time to catch my breath before a hail of bullets starts behind me that lasts just in a couple of minutes.

Or at least so I think.

When I raise my head and move my arms I hear other footsteps coming behind us.

I turn my head over my left shoulder and see three men advancing towards us.

One of them is very tall, he is wearing a short-sleeved shirt where the top buttons are open revealing a muscular chest to my eyes and his legs are wrapped in a baggy trousers.

He has a shaved head and a hard, menacing look.

A shiver runs down my spine.

This man is dangerous.

Everything in him screams stay the fuck away if you want to live.

His attitude reminds me too much of that of his men.

I shift my attention to the man in the center.

He is a boy, he seems to be my age and has sweet asian features.

He could be chinese or korean.

He is wearing a simple t-shirt with a pair of jeans and a baseball cap on his head.

He looks scared and uncertain but when his eyes rest on me I only see concern.

I don't know if it's worry for himself or for me.

The last man wears a police uniform, his curly hair touches the back of his neck and a light veil of beard covers his face.

His gaze is attentive, he is definitely a cop, but there is something else in him.

His eyes seem haunted by something very painful.

He seems tired, as if a burden is weighing on him and slowly crushing him but despite this he must continue to defend the people he loves.

I watch them come towards us, all three armed, without ever taking their eyes off my figure crouched on the ground.

Maybe I should get up.

I have to make them understand that I have no bad intentions.

That I'm not a threat and I don't even want to become one.

But as soon as I try to move a threatening voice behind me stops my gesture.

“Kneel” the archer whispers in my ear making me shiver for an infinite number of reasons that I can't even understand.

The cold barrel of a gun presses against the back of my neck.

Really?

Did he take me out of that hell, save me from certain death just so he could kill me in a public execution?

I try to ignore the cold in my heart and the sweat that burns my eyes, I would like to rub them with the back of my hand but I avoid any movement to avoid finding a bullet stuck in my brain.

I kneel but I don't look down.

Hell no!

If they want to kill me, if he wants to kill me, they will have to do it by looking me in the eyes.

If I have to die I will do it with dignity.

"M'sorry.But I have to protect ma people” the archer murmurs as he moves, sliding to my side without ever taking the gun away from my head.

I risk a glance in his direction and strangely I find him staring at me.

His blue eyes seem to look beyond my kneeling figure, seem to spy directly on my thoughts.

Our gazes are chained.

I certainly won't be the first to lower my gaze.

I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me intimidated and trembling.

Before his three friends reach us, the man who keeps his gun pointed at my temple, turns his gaze in front of him and then speaks.

“Daryl.That's ma name"

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zorlok-if · 1 year

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Since at this point it would take a miracle for the fey campaign not to be one of the poll winners, here's some more information about my vision for the fey and their courts.

Gather your intel, bury your secrets, hide your weapons, ready your spells, don your regalia, and leave all your morals and inhibitions at the door, friends. The Gala Antheia is upon us once more, and the fun's about to begin...

Fey and the Feywild

The Feywild is magic incarnate and the source of all arcane power. It is a fantastical reflection of the mundane Material Plane and the fey are the beings who inhabit it. All fey are inherently magical but different fey have different specialties and interests. Fey that are like one another tend to flock together, and over time these biases led to the formation of nine fey courts—the six natural courts and three material courts.

Fey don't just use magic for power, they need it to sustain themselves. If their connection to magic is severed, fey creatures are fundamentally and irreversibly changed (they may perish, if they're lucky, or they may be transformed into someone or something else entirely). This need for magical control is a source of great strife and conflict and tends to exacerbate the courts' already complex relationships with one another.

The Natural Courts

The six natural courts are concerned solely with the Feywild. The physical courts and their members remain in the Feywild year-round and most hold strong prejudices against the inhabitants of the Material Plane, seeing non-magical creatures as trivial, inferior, or pathetic. The natural courts are almost always at war with at least one other court (if not more). The natural courts are:

The Seelie Court - magic centering around light and the sun, earth and dirt, warmth and drought (at their strongest in the summer)

The Unseelie Court - magic centering around darkness and moonlight, air and smoke, water and storms (at their strongest in the winter)

The Gloaming Court - magic centering around dawn and dusk, twilight and stars, fire and stone (at their strongest in the spring and autumn)

The Marine Court - magic centering around the sea and underwater life, creatures of the shores and the abyss (unaffected by the seasons)

The Faunal Court - magic centering around animals and beasts, notorious and curious shapeshifters (unaffected by the seasons)

The Sylvan Court - magic centering around plants and fungi, vines and flowers, myconids and some insectoids (unaffected by the seasons)

There are three sets of rivals, courts that despise one another and are constantly vying for dominance against one another:

Seelie vs. Unseelie, Gloaming vs. Sylvan, Marine vs. Faunal

There are also three sets of allies, courts that consider one another to be their closest supporters in their power struggles:

Seelie & Sylvan, Gloaming & Faunal, Unseelie & Marine

(I've literally drawn out a little Venn diagram looking thing for the court's main relationships)

The Material Courts

The material courts align themselves more with the Material Plane. They are still deeply invested in the Feywild and as concerned with magic as all other fey, but these three courts find themselves drawn to the nonmagical world and its inhabitants for various reasons. While these courts don't get along with one another, they are known to have shifting alliances with the natural courts and have been known to turn the tide in many a power struggle. Despite this, the natural courts tend to look down on the material courts due to their great interest in something the natural courts view as inherently lesser. Likewise, the material courts tend to see the natural courts as old-fashioned, pretentious, and lacking in vision and ambition.

The Court of Wonder - associated with grander, more impressive magic, thrives off of awe and worship, grants showstopping miracles and fantastical spectacle

The Court of Craft - associated with subtle, almost hidden magic, grants reprieve, pursues knowledge, driven by curiosity, creates unnoticed, everyday gifts

The Court of Ruin - associated with destruction and disruption, grants nothing and steals all it desires, driven by hunger and thirst, thrive off of chaos and frustration

The Anthesis and the Gala Antheia

The Anthesis is a surge of magic that occurs roughly once every two to three years. It doesn't follow a strict calendar and raw magic must be studied and observed overtime to predict when the next Anthesis will occur. The Anthesis is a boon to all fey because it provides a welcome, restorative supply of magic.

The Gala Antheia is a 15-day long festival celebrating the Anthesis. It is a time and place of "peace" where each court is invited to share and celebrate their unique perspectives, innovations, and talents. It is also the premiere spot for politics and matchmaking. The sidhe, the fey nobility, utilize the gala as an opportunity to strengthen connections with other courts and secure political deals, trades, secrets, and marriages. There is no better place for love and gossip. The Gala Antheia is also a time of jubilation and the parties thrown by the fey are uniquely absurd and chaotic.

All fey who run the gala are known as antheists and relinquish all ties and duties to their courts while setting up and running the event.

The first three days are run solely by the antheists and are meant to establish neutral, common ground. One day is then given to each court to showcase their best and demonstrate their power to the rest. The final three days are run by the antheists but are meant to be a synthesis of what each court has brought to the proverbial table.

In the fey campaign you would be able to play as a member of the sidhe (or perhaps one of their attendants) looking to further your own goals or the goals of your court through political moves, underhanded tricks, romantic arrangements, intimate entanglements, and more.

Images from Unsplash

#what characters would you like to see playing in this campaign?#dev?#ciel?#a/e?#others?#let me know :)#fey campaign #mythmaker #poll #follow up #lore #patreon

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denimbex1986 · 10 months

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youtube

"Hi, I'm Emily Blunt."

"Hello, I'm Cillian Murphy."

"Hi, I'm Matt Damon."

"And we're here with - and we're here with The Hollywood Reporter, talking about our Hollywood firsts."

"It could have been Star Wars because I'm a Star Wars kid but - "

"But everyone's a Star Wars kid."

"Yeah."

"I know, but it's the first time that like, because I was seven - "

"Yeah."

" - it came out in 77, I was pre; in the summer I was probably six. It was the first time that I ever went and got completely captured by a movie experience where, where I was taken to some other place that I didn't; and I just thought it was amazing and I wanted to be Luke and Han Solo. I wanted to be all those guys, and so I went home and immediately started dressing up like them and playing like them and, you know -"

"Well the - one of the first films I remember watching was 'Old Yeller.' Did you guys ever see that movie?"

"Yeah."

"And I remember being just like, destroyed by it, and wanting to do a movie with a dog."

"The first audition I went on was for 'The Four Feathers', that Shekhar Kapur directed."

"Oh my god, really? Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Heath did it."

"Heath did it. And I ended up doing the table read for him, even though I knew I wasn't going to get the part, but I was like 17 and at a table read with Heath Ledger and I was like: 'Oh my God.'"

"Oh, the first audition I did was for a, for a play in Cork called 'Disco Pigs' and - "

"And you got it."

"Yeah, and I'd never done anything before in my life; it was my first professional gig."

"Actors love hearing that story - my first audition, I booked."

"Nailed it."

"And nailed it."

"Yeah, but you know that, you know that confidence of youth where you just -"

"Yeah, you don't think about it."

" - you don't know anything so - "

"Yeah."

"The first big Hollywood paycheck I got in my mind was I got twenty-five thousand dollars for doing a mo - a TV movie called 'Rising Sun'. And, I bought my brother a car and I put my mum through her PhD program and that, that was a really cool feeling."

"I think I bought like a, a record player and, or a sound system. No, because it; record players weren't, they weren't as cool as they are now, were they?"

"Yeah. I feel like I moved out. Like, I think that was the first; I got, I rented an apartment. I feel like that was the first - like, being able to not live with my parents."

"I know mine is a - this animated movie called 'Spirit.' It was the first movie that - and that, that was a good one for the kids."

"Yeah."

"I think that's like the only movie they've seen."

"They saw 'Mary Poppins' - was the first one I think."

"Come on."

"Yeah. I think I put it on and walked away - "

"Yeah."

" - but then I think it's strange for your children to watch you. Like, they have - it's like you really are somebody else and it's disconcerting for them. And it was disconcerting for my kids, because especially with 'Poppins', it's like a - I look different, I had this like wig on, I sound different."

"Well they kind of know you at a soul level - "

"Yeah."

" - and so to see you as something that you, they know you're not - "

"Is strange for them."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Do - do your boys find it strange really?"

"Yeah but, but they're very underwhelmed. You know, they're very unimpressed."

"Suitably underwhelmed, unimpressed."

"They're big Peaky Blinders fans."

"No, they've never seen Peaky Blinders."

"They've never seen it?"

"No. I think they mi -they watched the, the Batman movies - "

"Yeah."

" - when they were old enough. But most of my stuff is highly unsuitable."

"I met Cillian; John and I went to see Cillian's play before we did Quiet Place II together - "

"Yeah."

"I mean, we were so desperate to work with him obviously but - and then when we did Quiet Place II, we were; we were like thick as thieves, quickly."

"It was good fun."

"And it was so great for us then having this kind of shared experience, this shared history, to go be thrust into like a married couple and - "

"I think you get something for free when you work with people that you've worked with already - "

"Yeah."

" - and you've gotten on with; it - it just kind of transfers onto the screen - particularly if you're playing a couple with history. We didn't meet till - "

"No, till this."

" - till Oppenheimer."

"No, till this."

"Yeah."

"But you guys - "

"Till this interview, yeah."

"Matt, Matt doesn't do off-camera; I didn't know if that was public knowledge but - "

"And I don't want other actors around when I'm on camera. Yeah. we met for the audition for Adjustment Bureau."

"In like, 2009?"

"Yeah."

"We've known each other for far too long. Matt lives in my building so I - I'm actually not used to seeing you in regular shoes; I only see you in slippers - it's very strange."

"When we come down for dinner I just wear slippers."

"I haven't seen him in shoes for a couple of years I think."

"It's true."

"I found it so emotional. I remember Chris coming in and it was a staggering script. And visceral and captivating like - the trauma of living with a brain like that was so palpable in the script, and I was so scared I wouldn't understand it."

"It was really overwhelming - "

"Yeah."

" - and, and it was the first script I've ever read, or ever even heard of that was written in the first person."

"Yeah."

"So, it's - Oppenheimer is using 'I' - I'm doing this and I'm doing that, I'm now walking over here, I'm not; and it's like: 'Oh my God.' And so by the end of the script I just; I was totally overwhelmed. And I kind of offended Chris because he came over and I, I - and he said: "What do you think?", and I just kind of blurted out: "I have no notes." Which was, to me, the greatest thing you could say to another writer. You just go like: "Look, look man, I have, I have nothing to say - this is amazing." But, but when Emily met with him like, like a week later, she was very effusive in her praise and very articulate, and he was like: "Well it's better than I got from him. I just got 'He had no notes.'"

"No notes, yeah. Chris was like: "That's a lot better than Damon's reaction to it."

"I think it may have been like, one of the best scripts I've ever read. For -"

"Yeah."

"For sure."

"Yeah."

"And the scope of it and the ambition of it; this, the, the - "

"The ambition of it. The book is so dense and there's so much history, and he's kind of woven all of it into this; it's like every frame of the movie is so dense and rich and packed."

"How was it for you, reading it in the first person?"

"Exhilarating. You know, because it's completely subjective, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And that's what he, he intended to do with the movie was make a lot of it through Oppenheimer's eyes and experience it as, as Oppenheimer was - was experiencing it."

"Thank you for enduring our Hollywood firsts."

#Emily Blunt #Cillian Murphy #Matt Damon #Oppenheimer #Spirit #Disco Pigs #Heath Ledger #Christopher Nolan #Star Wars #Old Yeller #Peaky Blinders #Mary Poppins #The Adjustment Bureau #A Quiet Place Part II #The Four Feathers #Shekhar Kapur #Rising Sun #Batman

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flashnthunder · 3 months

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Miscellaneous tag game

@grumpy-liebgott and @sharkboyandlavalieb tagged me <333 and i am of course a million years late

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

inside the us i would say maine, i love the ocean/forest combo it's got going on

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

coauthoring several medical research papers as an undergrad, which is like my one and only flex and it's a nerdy one

Favorite books?

new hampshire- robert frost, the art of being human- michael wesch, ajax- sophocles (yes, only one of these is technically a book ik)

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

it might be cheesy to say music, but music and my friends <3

Favorite thing about your culture?

from the midwest US (so there's not that much), but i was raised very much in borderline appalachia and the older i've gotten the more i've come to appreciate that as part of how i was raised, so i would say quilting! i was taught to quilt by the women in my family and i still cherish the connection to them through that

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

band of brothers in 8th grade, my history teacher would play it for us and i'm pretty sure he used it in place of actually teaching but he was a real one and also a drill sergeant so i don't think anyone argued with his methods

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

have NOT read any BoB books, but i have read most of the ones that inspired the pacific + a shit ton of pacific memoirs in general

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

lip and luz with the dud shell, bull watching out for the younger replacements, the officers in the eagle's nest, and just in general all of episode 8

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

band of brothers, top gun, the pacific (hypothetically), mota now it looks like, way back to my roots would be star trek and also whatever was going on with bandoms in hs that is a dark time

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

oooh idk it changes, but last year i was on an ethan hawke kick- 'adopt a highway' and 'first reformed' are two he's good in (obligatory dead poets society mention ofc)

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." - sarah williams

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

so bad at fun facts uhhh. uh. i am double-jointed in my hands.

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

i have NEVER had a beta reader and i am simply too scared to ask how it works because i'm not sure anyone should have to be subjected to my writing process but!! always willing to give a new thing a shot

Three things that make you smile?

my dog when she stretches in the sun, swimming in a creek in the summer, sitting in the car with my best friend while it rains

Any nicknames you like?

izzy! i have liked it well enough to all but legally make it my real name, other than that izzy-maye from people i'm close with, or iz/izzers when people are in a hurry

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

@andromeddog art makes me go feral, @mutantmanifesto killer art that is living rent-free in my mind, @ewipandora MWAH you already know you make my day better on here, @onehelluvamarine has me kicking my feet giggling when they're in my notifs, @terresdebrume lovely writing <3

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

foolproof 3 step plan, ready for it? 1- find a good ditch 2- lay down in the ditch 3- just let it happen

idealistically i think i could go chill in the woods for a semi-significant period of time and be alright

Favorite movie?

logan's run (comfort movie, questionable 70s sci-fi), the hunt for red october (always feeling very big feelings on this), arrival, apocalypse now, fury, dead poets society, alexander (like the 4 hours version because im insufferable like that) the old star trek movies

Do you like horror movies?

i love horror movies WITH people you will not catch me watching them on my own, but 100% love love getting to sit on someone's couch and watch one

Tagging:

(no pressure and apologies for any double tagging) @ewipandora @blood-mocha-latte @deputy-buck @lamialamia @blurredcolour @saturnwisteria @staud + anyone i tagged in my answers and forgot to tag down here, or anyone who just wants to do it :)

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garden-bug · 5 months

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Let's fix Star Wars!!

(I said at the start of the summer and wrote nearly 100k.) (It needed a lot of fixing ok.)

Here is a fix-it fanfic but it's for three series and the entire sequel trilogy. I will be posting about this more because I am determined to finish it soon (and then redraft it wooo!).

Description:

Somehow, Darth Maul returns. (As a force ghost.) (Somewhere Ahsoka thinks is probably the living Force.)

This changes everything.

In other words: The Mandalorian S3 but make it Din/Luke; the Ahsoka series but make it EZRA AND THRAWN SPACE ADVENTURES; and ‘somehow Palpatine returns’ is ripped to shreds because I connect plot points and add new characters.

Chapter excerpts below!

Chapter 1 excerpt:

“Not as far as I remember. Oh, wait! I wanted to rule the galaxy… shame.” He rolls his shoulders again. “Can’t do much about that now. Being dead is quite demotivating.” “I’m sorry for your lack of motivation.” “Don’t make fun, Lady Tano. Have sympathy for this poor, dead, ex-Sith.” “I guess 'dead' is your only personality trait now.” “You preferred me before?” Ahsoka grimaces. She can’t argue with that. “No, sorry." “I will be honest,” Maul says, “I haven’t felt this peaceful since before I lost the lower half of my body.” Ahsoka fixes him with a reproving look. "You were Palpatine's apprentice then." “Yes.” Maul sighs wistfully, chin sinking into his hand. Ahsoka rubs her eyes. Maul has already given her a headache and they've only been talking for a minute. There is still nothing but darkness and flickering light, and Maul’s steady, yellow eyes. “Do you know where you are?” Ahsoka asks. “Why should I help you figure this out? You didn’t help me once. Also, in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear, I’m dead, so I don’t care what happens to you or anyone else who is still alive. Some of us aren’t so lucky, you know?” "If we figure this out, maybe I'll get peace. I really don't want you as a voice in my head." Maul grimaces. “B’ahor,” he mutters. “In the Al'har system?” "There is a dark power on that planet… I sense evil, but also… something else." His eyes burn. "Perhaps you will go there and die. That would solve this problem quickly."

Chapter 2 excerpt:

“What was that?” Mayan asks as they hurry towards the mountain. “That feeling… the…” “The Force,” says Ahsoka. “The Force exists all around us. It is created by all living things, it moves through them, and it binds the whole galaxy together.” “How do you know about it?” “I was trained as a Jedi.” Ahsoka is surprised when her face remains impassive. There is no flicker of recognition, no spark of awe in her eyes. She just nods. “In my village, people like that are called world breakers.” “There are more of you?” “There were.” Mayan looks away. “The legends say that world breakers can take a planet in their hand and shatter it.” “That's... impossible,” Ahsoka says. She wonders why she had never considered that remote planets may have different legends about the Force. “According to the stories, we are children of the Great Universe. If we follow its will, it will guide us... That's how it used to be.” Ahsoka means to ask if there is more to these legends, but Mayan comes to a halt suddenly and points to the rock face in front of them. “This is where the curse is,” says the girl. “Yes.” Ahsoka can sense it too. This is where the Force has been leading them. It reeks of Sith and of evil. Something terrible must have happened here.

Chapter 4 excerpt:

Fleeing vehicles kick up a cloud of dust, and Luke jumps up onto the roof of the adjacent building, crouching close in preparation to drop down. Sweat licks the back of his neck. For a stupid moment he thinks how this is the complete wrong time of day to be out, when both suns are high in the sky. Then he leaps. There isn’t even time to be annoyed as the roller-wheeler careers around the corner. “Peli, I told you to keep him inside!” “He wanted to see his dad!” Peli screams. Luke sends Grogu a withering look. The little guy sticks his tongue out from where he is held securely in the Mandalorian’s arms. “I am so sorry,” says the Mandalorian. Luke doesn’t even know where to start. “It’s alright, can you hang on to him?” The roller-wheeler jolts suddenly, and Grogu squeals in what’s probably excitement. “Yeah, but you can’t get through their shield with your lightsaber. I tried with mine.” “Ok.” Luke tugs the vehicle slightly to adjust its course. “We’re gonna have to talk about why you have a lightsaber later.” He senses annoyance from the helmet. “Did you kill a Jedi?” “Won it from Moff Gideon.” “You defeated Moff Gideon?” “Watch it.” The Mandalorian blasts a Pyke who was aiming for Luke from the top of a building. “Good shot.” The Mandalorian nods. Next thing they know, a Pyke has taken out the droid, and Luke somersaults off the roller-wheeler before it flips. He plants his feet in the ground and catches the vehicles momentum that everyone lands relatively unscathed. The Mandalorian caught Grogu immediately, so Luke draws them towards him, until his hand meets bescar. “Nice catch,” says the Mandalorian. Luke grins. “Is Grogu ok?” Grogu pops up over the Mandalorian’s shoulder. He’s a little shaken, but a smile breaks across his face when he sees Luke. Peli spits out a tooth from where she’s lying.

Chapter 5 excerpt:

“We’re even,” Boba decides. He makes a hand gesture for the blue liquor, which Fennec tosses to him with a roll of her eyes. Boba places his helmet beside him on the seat and takes a swing, acid-scarred face regarding him cooly. Luke bows respectfully. “Thanks a bunch.” Boba waves an arm dismissively. “Go see the little green guy.” He turns to leave, but Boba isn’t done. He comments, offhandedly, “I thought you would’ve gotten a few more scars since the last time I saw you.” Luke turns, puzzled. “Why?” “Haven’t you been Jedi-ing?” “Jedi-ing...” “Saving the galaxy.” “We... I did that.” “What about Tatooine?” Luke’s smile falters. “Tch. ∂ι’кυтℓα נєтιιѕє.” “What's that s'posed to mean?” “It means I don’t like you.” “He called the Jedi useless,” says Ahsoka. Luke meets her eyes, trying to stifle the burn in his skin. Ahsoka clears her throat. “We’ve been gone a long time.” “That’s why I want to rebuild what was lost.” Ahsoka looks at him for a long moment. “I know.”

Chapter 6 excerpt:

“σяιтѕιя!” Koska yells. “Bo-Katan Kryze!” Bo-Katan’s eyes widen, she drops her gaze and breathes softly. “Stop yelling.” “You… you…” Koska clenches her fists. “иιвяαℓ! αяυєт!” She kicks the metal desk, exclaiming incoherencies. Bo-Katan shakes her head. “What do you want me to do?” She sits back, hands out. “I don’t have any way to unite our people, and Mandalore is inhabited by a clan of psychos.” Koska’s lip trembles, but she bites it down. “We were going to follow you. We were going to get our home back,” her voice cracks. “Don’t tell me it’s all over now. After everything we’ve been through to get here.” “Mandalore, and my legacy, is dead,” Bo-Katan seethes. “Even with the darksaber, would we be able to subdue, or, live alongside that… Clan куяαу¢, knowing what they did to Mandalore?” “Just get the darksaber from him!” Koska says. “If you get it our clan will stop kriffing falling apart and we can take them down.” Bo-Katan slumps into her hand. “This is why we fell apart in the first place. We fought each other instead of the Empire. It’s not a path I am willing to go down.” “The others are,” Koska states. Bo-Katan looks up. “And they will,” Koska continues, eyes hard. “That’s why you need to decide what to do now before they decide for you, and we end up going down a path of self-destruction. While they’ll still listen to you, choose.”

Chapter 8 excerpt:

Ahsoka clenches her jaw. “Maul,” she grits out, “what did you do?” “Em, an… indoctrination ceremony? It was mostly just for fun,” he assures her. “Ezra thought it would be fun.” “You indoctrinated him into your clan?” “That’s…” Maul blinks. “Yes. He could be considered a son of Dathomir.” “And that’s why the night sister magic took him to Dathomir.” Ahsoka groans. “Well, this was a complete waste of time! Now I have to deal with Thrawn and get out of here somehow.” Maul nods, as though that had been his plan all along. “How long has it been since they returned from the unknown regions?” he asks. “I don’t know.” “Find out,” insists Maul. “Spending too long on Dathomir with the spirits of the night sisters… would not be advisable.” Ahsoka narrows her eyes. “How so?” “They will attempt to resurrect, using whatever means they can get their hands on. I wouldn’t be surprised if they sacrifice his mortal body to gain strength to cross back over into the physical world.” “Are they immortal?” “They are… like Force ghosts that can absorb energy. With enough energy, they can reconstruct themselves, piece by piece, until all they are lacking is a physical body. They will need many sacrifices to resurrect fully.” “Hold on… could you resurrect?” “I would prefer not to,” Maul says simply. Ahsoka’s eyes widen. “Okay… why?” “Haven’t you asked enough personal questions?” he snaps. “Leave. I’m busy trying to wallow in misery.” “Sure, okay.” Ahsoka shrugs. “But if you want to talk about it—” “I said go,” Maul hisses.

Chapter 9 excerpt:

The smaller tunnel winds further down, deeper into the centre of the planet. There’s the slightest movement in the air, vibration, and Luke recognises the energy of life forces and stops walking suddenly. “There are… people down here,” he says. Din casts him a dubious helmet tilt, and they continue until it is unmistakable. Voices echo through the tunnels, many, it seems, perhaps a covert worth. “Do you wanna go say hello?” Luke asks. “Perhaps they can help us find the living waters.” The tunnel breaks off into several other small passageways. This close, Luke can pick out the soft glow of light, and he gestures for Din to switch his torch off. When he does, they are plunged into darkness, but gradually, Luke’s eyes adjust to the light, and he leads Din by the arm towards the light and the voices. The voices hush suddenly. Luke pauses, he wonders if they should stop, go back, maybe confront these people somewhere they have more of an advantage. But Din steps past him, leaving Grogu in Luke’s arms. “тισи’¢υу?” “иι αℓιιт мαи∂σ.” “иυ тισи’αℓιιт ѕσℓυѕ?” “иαу¢… αѕн’α∂.” “к’σℓαя.” Din steps into the room. Luke follows after him. Inside the large cave, is a group of Mandalorians. One of them stands abruptly, blaster raised. “тισи’ѕσℓєт?” he barks. “єни,” Din responds. “тισи’ναιι?” Din reaches for Grogu, and takes him into his arms. “иєя ιк’αα∂. иι куя'тαуℓ gαι ѕα’α∂,” he says. The Mandalorian stares at them for a moment, then sighs raggedly, and sinks back onto the rock. The others in his group relax, but keep their eyes fixed on the newcomers. Their armour is in a state of disrepair, some of it clearly salvaged from the ruins. Some wear their helmets while others do not. The faces that Luke can see are pale and gaunt, as though they haven’t seen the sunlight in a long time and their torn clothes hang off their body in a way that makes Luke think of skeletons. “Do you speak basic?” Din asks. “We haven’t,” the Mandalorian says harshly, “since a long time.” His eyes are dark, hooded, his hair matted and entirely grey. “We are looking for the living waters,” Din explains. “Do you know how to get there?”

Chapter 10 excerpt:

Mayan has gotten better at interpreting binary speech, but she’s not quite there yet. It takes her a moment to figure out what the little beeps mean as she stuffs some out-of-date rations into a makeshift pack. “Um… we’re going to rescue Ahsoka.” R2 spins excitedly. Then he stops and says, “…. --- .--?" “I don’t know how.” Mayan ties her boots. “By now, the blue man will think we’ve gone, so we can surprise him, right?” R2 whistles uncertainly. “Well… there’s no other choice.” Mayan grips the lightsaber in her hand. “You said Luke can’t come… so…” R2 bumps into her as she walks towards the ladder. “Ow, that was my toe.” Mayan groans. “What is it?” “-.. .- -. --. . .-. --- ..- …!” “I know it’s dangerous. You didn’t want Luke to come because he’s an important Jedi, right?” Mayan squeezes past him. “If the blue man finds him it’d be bad, so it’s better if I rescue her.” R2 whistles a sad note again. Mayan clambers up the ladder one-armed, her other arm tucked into a sling under her cloak. It’s completely useless. She doesn’t know how bad the break was, but since it happened, the skin has gone from red to purple — the edges faintly green. If she tries to use it, a sharp pain stabs through her. The town is quiet this early — even the fruit vendors haven’t opened their stalls yet. Mayan sneaks around the side of the blown-up house, pulling her cloak over her feathered hair. She gestures for R2 to follow. She thinks if she can get to the mountain again, she can… well, she doesn’t really know. Mayan has always been good at getting out of dangerous situations, not getting into them. Maybe R2 can come up with a plan. “This is hopeless,” Mayan decides. They sit within viewing distance of the tall mountain base, hidden in a valley of rocks. “--. --- ……. -… .- -.-. -.-?” R2 suggests. Mayan rubs the wrinkly skin of her fingers. “I don’t want to give up, but I don’t know how to get in, or where she is. I’ve never even seen a prison before.” She pulls her knees up to her chest. “I don’t know why Ahsoka even believes in me at all.” “… -.- -.-- ……. .. … ……. .- -- .- --.. .. -. —.!” Mayan smiles a little. 'Sky is amazing,' R2 said. It’s nice that he gave her a nickname after she said she wanted one like Ahsoka had as a padawan.

Chapter 11 excerpt:

Their arrival must have caused a minor uproar. A dozen Mandalorians watch from every hallway Luke glances down. They are all blue, presumably Bo-Katan’s people, and they don’t seem happy. They are brought into a large hall, where spear-shaped windows bite into the ceiling, and white crystal casts a steady light over the room. A long carpet leads to a throne that resembles a hardened splash of lava, and on it, sits Bo-Katan. She’s really got the throne thing down, maybe even as much as Boba Fett. Luke would not mess with either of them unless absolutely necessary purely based on their throne demeanour. “What the kirff are you doing,” Bo-Katan says. She doesn’t yell, just sounds exasperated, maybe even exhausted. “I’m taking you up on the offer to join you.” Bo-Katan looks at him. Her amber eyes narrow, and she gets up, and makes her way towards them. “You’re too late now,” she says. Her expression touches on cold rage. “I’m barely holding this together as it is. With the arrival of your covert, things have only gotten worse.” “Mandalore is habitable,” Din says. “There are other Mandalorians already living there.” “The clans on Mandalore are belligerent and mad,” Bo-Katan snaps. “And the Empire has eyes on the planet. With the numbers we have, staging anything with only attract attention and get us all killed.”

Chapter 12 excerpt:

“You have redeemed yourself?” asks the Armourer. “I have,” says Din. The intense blue of the forge reflects off both of their helmets and the heat dusts Luke’s cheeks with warmth. “And you have acquired another foundling…” The Armourer’s tone shifts to something decidedly less serious and more akin to amusement. “What is the name of this child?” “Kymir,” Din says. “Kymir, do you wish to join our covert?” the Armourer asks the boy. Kymir looks from Din to the Armourer, brows furrowing. “He doesn’t speak basic,” Din says. “Kymir, тιαи’¢σρααиιя тσ αℓιιт?” he translates. Kymir bites his lip. “иαу¢,” he says. Luke infers that his answer is no. Din looks at the Armourer. “He has had a bad experience with his covert. He will not trust easily.” “Without a covert, he will have no protection.” “I will watch over him.” “At this time, you are also in need of protection,” says the Armourer, lightly. “You were almost killed this morning.”

Chapter 13 excerpt:

“Ahsoka? Ahsoka!” Mayan shakes Ahsoka’s shoulders, but her master doesn’t stir. She holds her face and tries to somehow will her awake with the force, but nothing seems to work. Her eyes remain closed, eyelids twitching minutely every few seconds. “Is she alright?” Leia asks, crouching by the broken tree Ahsoka rests against. “I think so… she goes into deep sleeps sometimes. I don’t really know what…” Mayan hugs her arms. “Um, is the Falcon okay?” “Ships fine,” Han says, an edge of annoyance in his tone, as he walks over to them. “But Ahsoka better wake up soon so I can ask her what in the hell just happened.” “We went through a portal,” Mayan says. Han squints. “How d’you know that?” “I’m a Jedi padawan…” Han throws his hands in the air. “Not another one! Come on, Chewy,” he says, “let’s go help Sabine get the engine started like normal people. Damn Jedi…force portals…” he mutters. R2 beeps in a pattern that Mayan recognises as a laugh as Han stalks off. “I hope Ahsoka wakes up soon…” Mayan says, mostly to herself, though Leia is still beside her. “Yes, well,” Leia starts, “we need to get back home. This was meant to be a drop-off, not another adventure.”

Chapter 16 excerpt:

“Come with me to Mandalore,” Din says. “But I don’t think I’m supposed to do that.” “Do you want to?” “Yes.” Luke glances at him from over his shoulder. “But I can’t,” he says. “I’m a Jedi, I have to follow the will of the force.” Din is silent for a long time, and Luke wonders if the conversation is over. But finally, he speaks. “I understand.” Luke huffs dubiously. “Really?” “Yes,” Din says. “I know what it’s like to be told that something that feels right is somehow wrong.” Luke’s stomach twists. Nothing feels right. Nothing. He let the force guide him here and now the force is telling him it’s time to leave. What if Din and Grogu still need him? He’s almost certain they do. But the galaxy needs him too. Perhaps his responsibilities lie elsewhere, maybe he got caught up in his emotions and mistook this for being the right thing. The problem is, Luke doesn’t know. The uncertainty makes him afraid. (Jedi should not be afraid.) He remembers his vision in the mythosaur lair and his throat tightens until he can barely speak. (Fear clouds one’s judgement.) “I can’t choose you,” Luke whispers, and a laugh catches in his through. “I can never choose you. Can you really tell me you understand that?” Din brings a hand up to his helmet. “I don’t know.” Luke stands up and catches his wrist. “Don’t,” he says. “I can’t let you give up your creed for me when I wouldn’t do the same for you.” Din’s hand falls. Luke stares into the dark visor, feeling further from his eyes than ever. The words of Obi-Wan’s Force-ghost echo in his head. “Had she said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order to be by her side.” “I’m sorry,” Luke says and lets go of his wrist. He steps back, gaze falling to the floor. If he wasn’t among the last Jedi… if the fate of the galaxy didn’t rest on his shoulders… But the Jedi are gone. Palpatine and Vader made sure of that. And now Luke has to spend his life paying for his father’s mistakes.

Chapter 18 excerpt:

“Leia, I don’t like this.” Luke tries not to squirm in his seat. If he had no appetite for the fancy Coruscant food before he certainly doesn’t now. “A Moff, after a force-sensitive child, working with a cloner? What the kriff were they doing?” “He might just have been after him because he was force sensitive and you know how the Empire felt about the Jedi.” “I wish I’d asked Din about this! I’m such an idiot.” “Who’s Din?” “Never mind. Okay, I’ve got to find out what Pershing was doing for Moff Gideon. I have a seriously bad feeling —” “Okay,” Leia says. “I trust your judgement. Are you finished? Let’s go speak to them.” Luke’s stomach swoops. “What?” “Sorry, farm-boy. Sneaking around isn’t how we learn things on Coruscant. You’ve got to play the game.” “What game?” “Politics, Luke.” “Oh great.”

Chapter 19 excerpt

“Good. I’m going down. Kymir and I can reach them fastest. Once we know where the creature lives we can go with a small group and rescue Ragnar.” Bo-Katan narrows her eyes, searching his visor for something to reassure herself. Din’s stomach drops when he realises that she’s desperately searching for his eyes. He touches her shoulder instead. “Keep them together,” he says, nodding in the direction of the others who are still reeling from the shock of the attack, some badly wounded. Bo-Katan sighs. “That’s what I’ve been doing for years, Din.” She shakes her head. “Let me wrap your arm. Take some more painkillers or you won’t be able to think when you’re down there. You might still lose the arm the way it is now.” Din stares at her. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “Okay?” Bo-Katan squints, winding the bandage around his arm which is thoroughly smothered in bacta. “I think you mean fuck.” “Fuck,” Din says. “It’s fine. I still have another arm.”

“∂ιи ∂נαяιи נσя иєя’вυιя נιι.” Din Djarin is… my… Din grabs a wall to steady himself. The words bounce around his helmet and his ears ache. He shuts his eyes, tries to focus on the words through the pain. They’re the important thing. “σяι’νσ∂ вυяк’у¢. ναιι’уαιм ∂яαgσи?” My friend is in danger. Where is the dragon’s home? “куяαмℓα.” He’s dead. “иυ ∂яααя!” Not never! “кумιя, уαιм’σℓ.” Kymir, come home. Din steps out to stand beside him. He tries to stand straight. He pulls out the darksaber with his good hand. “gαα’тαуℓιя,” he says, and ignites the blade. Help me. For a moment, nobody moves. Then, somebody asks, “ιвι¢… иι ¢єтα?” Will this… redeem us? Din looks at Kymir. Understanding wells in his eyes. "Do you forgive them?" “иααѕα∂ мι’ѕυя’нααι,” says Kymir. Not in my eyes. Din nods. Good. “мєн’gαα’тαуℓιя, нιвιяαя gαя иι ¢єтα.” If you help us, you may learn to forgive yourselves.

Grogu frowns in concentration. He peers out of the window, ignoring the computer completely, but his hand shifts on the stick and suddenly his eyes widen and he presses the button down. It hits the dragon and the creature screeches in agony, twisting up into the sky to escape from the onslaught. “Mu?” Grogu turns to Din. “Uh, lucky shot,” Din says. “I wouldn’t shoot without aiming first, kid. Wait, actually… can you use your Jedi stuff to aim? Is that what you’re doing?” Okay. What would Luke say? Something like… “In that case, just focus, and… listen to the — is it called the Force? Yeah, listen to the Force.” Grogu snorts. “What? Wouldn’t I make a good Jedi?” Din smiles, but Grogu can’t see it.

The guns bombard the remaining dragons with enough firepower to essentially obliterate them, and litter their scaly corpses across the ground. Boba-Fett lands his ship with a whoosh of hot air. Din stares as he lowers the landing ramp and marches towards him, Fennec following closely. “Thought you could use a hand,” says the gruff voice. Din tries to speak but his legs decide to give out. “Woah, there.” Boba keeps him upright with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you inside, Manda’lor,” he says. “Someone oughta throw you in a bacta tank,” says Fennec. “We don’t have a bacta tank.” Bo-Katan scowls from the cave entrance. “What are you doing here, Fett?” “I heard there was a get-together on Mandalore. Someone must’ve missed my invitation.”

Chapter 20 excerpt:

The magic tethering her to Dathomir tugs sharply on her wrist as she falls again into the familiar darkness. And then stops. Ahsoka can hear her breaths this time, sharp and cutting, and she scrambles to her feet, searching for — “You…” “Get away from him,” Ahsoka snarls. Leia’s lightsaber ignites with a burst of blue. Palpatine, or whatever’s left of him, has found them. His dark cloak drowns his physical form, making him almost impossible to discern from the flickering darkness, if it wasn’t for the ghastly, misshapen white of his face. Yellow eyes melt through the darkness, and grey lips stretch in a triumphant gleam. “He is of no more importance,” Palpatine snarls. Maul’s body twitches in the air, hands grasping desperately at his throat. “Let him go,” Ahsoka says. “S-sever our dyad,” Maul gasps. “Don’t let… don’t let him…” Ahsoka rips her arm free of the green string. “No!” Maul cries. Now there is no going back. “I will not leave you with him.”

“Grand Admiral, Sir, permission to speak freely?” “Permission granted, commodore Faro. You know I always value your input.” “Well, Sir, we’re kriffed.”

Chapter 25 excerpt:

“Thrawn,” Eli starts, looking into his red eyes, “y’know I—” The security feed beeps. Eli’s eyes widen when he sees Ezra waving up at the camera from the supply room. Eli clicks the comms. “Um, Ezra, wha’d’ya think you’re doing there? Actually, how’d you even get on board?” “Space portals!” “Right. I see.” Eli rubs his forehead. This is going to be a long day. “You need anythin’?” “You won’t believe what happened down there,” Ezra practically yells. “Anyway, I need the key now because we’re locking Dathomir so this doesn’t ever happen again, then we’re all jumping through a space portal to you guys. Is that alright?” “Sure. See ya in a bit.” “Excellent,” says Thrawn. He turns to Eli. “What were you going to say?” Eli sighs. “Moment’s gone. Alright, let’s get this data ready for Ezra-kid to look at.”

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lacependragon · 11 months

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It's not secret that I've been working on building up a handful of new RWBY fics. Nor has it been a secret what they're about. But I thought it'd be fun to revel in the excitement a bit and gather up all the information to let you vote on what you're most excited for too!

This probably won't have any impact on what order I write things. But don't you wanna share excitement? So vote, ask a question, drop a message! But first, make sure you read all the information about each fic!

If you aren't interested, then please just don't vote. Thank you.

The Fics

A Sea of Roses | RWBY Rated M. Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings.

Relationships: Penny Polendina/Ruby Rose, Ilia Amitola/Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood, Jaune Arc/Lie Ren/Pyrrha Nikos/Nora Valkyrie, Weiss Schnee/Neptune Vasilias/Sun Wukong, Mercury Black/Emerald Sustrai, Glynda Goodwitch/Taiyang Xiao Long

Characters: Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long, RWBY Ensemble

Additional Tags: Canon Rewrite, Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Queernorm, Polyamory, Polyam Norm, Anti-Faunus Racism, Faunus/Human Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Dismemberment, Slow Burn, Extreme Slow Burn, Grey Morality, Characters Making Bad Decisions, Child Soldiers, Mild Sexual Content, Child Abuse, Happy Ending, Non-Binary Ruby Rose, Past Raven Branwen/Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long, Past Ozma/Salem

Summary:

At fifteen, Ruby Rose is supposed to be two years away from Beacon Academy. But after ditching school in the middle of the day and fighting robbers (and putting three people in the hospital), Ruby finds themself expelled from Signal and on the way to Beacon, on the fast track to becoming a hunter. Leading a team which includes their sister, Yang, and new partners Weiss and Blake, Ruby seeks to have the best years at Beacon possible. But the world has other plans in store. Salem watches from a distance and builds her tools, seeking the relics and the maidens for her own ends. As she looms closer, Ruby and friends are swept into the mysterious and apocalyptic underworld of Remnant, where every battle is a tally in the war against Salem and every failure could lead to death. The war will be long. The losses will be high. But roses are resilient; their thorns can draw blood at the most unsuspecting of times. And Ruby Rose will not let the world fall without the fight of their life.

Management of Our Time at Patch | RWBY Rated M. No Archive Warnings Apply.

Relationships: Penny Polendina/Ruby Rose, Blake Belladonna/Weiss Schnee/Yang Xiao Long, Jaune Arc/Lie Ren,Pyrrha Nikos/Nora Valkyrie, Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood, Oscar Pine/Whitley Schnee, Neptune Vasilias/Sun Wukong, Harriet Bree/May Marigold/Winter Schnee, Marrow Amin/Clover Ebi, Mercury Black/Hazel Rainart/Emerald Sustrai, Cinder Fall/Neopolitan

Characters: Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, Penny Polendina, Blake Belladonna, Qrow Branwen, James Ironwood, Weiss Schnee, Jaune Arc, Lie Ren, Nora Valkyrie, RWBY Ensemble

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Magic, My Time at Portia Fusion, Management of a Novice Alchemist Fusion, Queernorm, Slice of Life, Small Towns, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Polyamory, Polyamorous Raven Branwen/Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long, Alchemy, Prosthesis, Slow Burn, Friendship, Monster Hunting, Friends to Lovers, Dungeon Crawling, Running a Business, Strangers to Lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Inventors, Non-Binary Ruby Rose, Happy Ending

Summary:

To be a master alchemist, you must change lives. Several hundred years after an environmental apocalypse, the world of Remnant rebuilds. Ruby Rose, recent graduate of Vale’s alchemy college, is moving to the village of Patch with the rest of their family after Yang gets a job with the local rangers. There, Ruby wants to open an alchemy shop and work on their thesis in hopes of becoming a master alchemist. Ruby and Yang aren’t the only ones dealing with new phases in their lives. Their uncle struggles to find his footing and makes an enemy of the local engineer on day one. A broken soldier finds her way to the edges of the local forest. Mayor Ghira and his family help the recently widowed Willow and her children adjust to freedom after months indoors and years of abuse. And along the edges of their territory, ancient ruins and creeping monsters await the rangers who seek to expand Patch. For even in times of peace, danger lurks. Life is always changing in Patch. Perhaps amidst this town and its people, Ruby can find the inspiration for their thesis, and everyone can find a place to call home.

When the Stars Go Out | RWBY Rated M. Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings.

Relationships: Penny Polendina/Ruby Rose, Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ilia Amitola/Weiss Schnee, Jaune Arc/Lie Ren/Pyrrha Nikos/Nora Valkyrie, Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood/Taiyang Xiao Long

Characters: Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, Little, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Penny Polendina, Jaune Arc, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren, Qrow Branwen, James Ironwood, Taiyang Xiao Long, Glynda Goodwitch, RWBY Ensemble

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Magic, Magic School, Witches, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Power of Friendship, Worldbuilding, Queernorm, Long, Non-Binary Ruby Rose, Half the Cast is Trans, Mystery, Drama, Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Animal Death, Grey Morality, Familiars, Wands, Happy Ending

Summary:

In Remnant, when a witch comes of age at 15, they enroll in a six year witch school to learn the depths and wonders of magic. Ruby Rose is 13 when their magic matures and they receive a letter from Beacon Academy of Witchcraft. There’s no hope of hiding the early magic, but maybe they, their older sister, Yang, and their guardian, Little, can keep the rest of Ruby’s secrets hidden. Like their unnatural silver eyes, locked behind a glamour to look a plain grey. Or their natural intuition to magic, which is harder to hide. Yet, at Beacon, Ruby’s focus doesn’t stay on their own problems for long. Instead, Ruby finds themself following after Weiss Schnee, a fellow sproutling that Ruby suspects is in danger. When they discover how much danger Weiss is in, they vow to find a way to help her, no matter what. As Ruby, Yang, and their new friends slip deeper into the darkness of Remnant’s hex-filled underworld, they’ll learn that Weiss isn’t the only one in danger. Men, monsters, and malignant magic vie to see who can destroy the world first, but only if Ruby and their friends can’t find a way to stop them.

#lace speaks #lace writes #management of our time at patch #a sea of roses #when the stars go out #rwby #rwby fics #lace polls

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cosmere-cat · 1 year

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Russian rock music! My favorite songs

I'm including a couple songs from a few artists I like (spotify links), with a bit of an explanation of what each song is about.

This is a long post so the rest is below the cut if you're interested :)

Going by band/artist!

Секрет (Sekret) - rock and roll, beatles-ish, mostly upbeat but they do have some range. Lots of song that are just fun to sing along to :)

One of my favorite songs from them that is fairly representative of their general sound:

Привет (Privet - meaning: Hello)

This song is about a chance meeting with an old friend on the subway. So catchy! So fun to sing along to! A little bittersweet :)

Here's a song of theirs that has a bit of different sound:

Ночь (Noch - meaning: Night)

This is just a beautiful poem about city nighttime and its many aspects, personified. Very evocative.

Кино (Kino) - more punk/post punk. Mostly sad/melancholic songs with emphasis on lyrics, but the beats are top notch.

Note: I really love this band so I really recommend checking out more of their songs if you like these, they made such good music.

Звезда по имени Солнце (Zbezda pa imeni Solntza - meaning: A Star named the Sun)

The song talks about the way 2000 years pass for a city, with conflict and wars going and returning through the cyclical passage of time.

Лето (Leto - meaning: Summer)

This song sort of talks about everyday life, but mostly negative aspects - bad weather, a long-closed down restaurant, a broken record player - while evoking a melancholic apathy. Depression but with a killer beat.

Земфира (Zemfira) - very punk rock singer. Her vibe is kinda like P!nk maybe? Amazing vocals, pretty modern lyrics (tbf she's started her career in 1998...)

Хочешь? (Khochesh? - meaning: Do you want?)

Song expressing love/adoration - basically "I would do the craziest things for the smallest improvements in your life". Example: do you want me to blow up the stars so they don't bother your sleep? It's a super fun song :)

спид (spid - meaning: AIDS)

In this song the narrator's partner has just found out they have aids. She's thinking about what little future is left for them. It's a pretty hopeless song but it's also kick ass

Машина Времени (Mashina Vremeni)

Звезды Не Ездят в Метро (Zvezdy ne Yezdyat V Metro - meaning: Starts don't take the subway)

Unrequited love or perhaps a chance meeting that never will be. A dichotomy between the hopeful fan on the subway and the discontent music star in his apartment.

Крематорий (Krematorij)

Родео и Джульетта (Romeo and Juliet)

This song is about a dysfunctional relationship. If we ignore all the bad stuff - we were just like Romeo and Juliet! There's an undercurrent of a tragic "it was doomed to fail".

Мусорный ветер (Musornyj veter - meaning: Wind of garbage/Garbage wind)

This song is about pollution :)

Bonus: not really rock but this song just makes me so emotional and is part of the inspiration for this post

Aquarium

25 к 10 (25 to 10)

This one is kind of a ballad (i think? not very good with music genres). It's about accepting your life and not regretting it. Being unapologetically yourself. Honestly makes me emotional evry tim

And.. I've hit audio limit for this post. I didn't even know that was a thing. Anyway I hope anyone seeing this post enjoys some of these songs and maybe check out other songs by these artists if you like them :)

#Spotify #gaahhh didn't expect it to be so hard to share this. and like be genuine. fighting the cringe it has no power over me😤#idk if there are tags for this??#kino band #sekret #zemfira #music

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rollercoasterwords · 1 year

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my year in fic :•)

ty @theinvisiblemuseum 4 the tag this is fun!! sooo one line (ok sometimes a little more than one line) from every fic i've written this year (i'm going based on like. date of completion)

april

atyd - sirius's pov

Oh, love, Sirius thought, through the haze in his mind, You’ve grown up without me.

another perspective

Regulus could picture it, so clearly: Sirius, crashing through the door like a shooting star, all bluster and misplaced confidence, something already dying, something that could only burn up or burn out.

august

alice, look at me

This is how life is: January withers like a flower, and spring rots into the ground. Summer brings you your son’s first words, and scrapes your knees raw, and kisses the blood back into your body. In autumn, the world collapses like a house of cards, and you cradle your child, and you promise him that you will never, never, commit the sins of your parents. You tell yourself that you can protect him from anything, even his own father.

october

the hand that feeds

It is a horrible thing, to learn the boredom of death. The mundanity of it. The way that everyone dies the same. That there is no peace to it. That in that way, it is no different than life. That the sun will shine, and the grass will bloom, and the blood will sink into the earth, and the worms will crawl, and the birds will eat the worms, and the birds will eat the worms, and the birds will eat the worms.

november

the heart that bleeds

Emmeline hates that the only way Mary will let them be close anymore is like this, with wounds open between them; Mary hates that Emmeline refuses to stop letting herself be wounded. Emmeline can’t turn her back on the war and Mary can’t turn her back on Emmeline and so one of them always has bloody hands, these days, when they touch each other.

aftermath

It is just that Lily is a mother, and she is not a good person, and she would feed the entire world into the jaws of doom if it meant keeping her own child safe.

december

this rotten work (wip)

James wonders, as he has many, many times before, if there’s some way that things could have gone differently; if there’s an alternate universe somewhere where Regulus Black can accept help without being cornered first.

nothing fades like the light (wip)

He always thought he would die with blood in his mouth. His own, or someone else’s—either way, when he imagined it, the tang of iron was always there.

untitled wip #1 (beauty + the beast dorlene)

Everything in Creek’s End that kills you kills you slowly.

untitled wip #2 (pandalily time war)

“I’m too tired to kill you tonight,” Lily says, biting through the Latin with her canines like rich meat. “Go somewhere else.”

The woman smiles, slow and creeping, a lichen on the bark of a tree.

“Another place?”

“Another time.”

and i will tag hmmmm let's see

@dykefever @steelycunt @arakhnee @pretentiouswreckingball @closetfascination @anouri

if any of u would like 2 do it!! no pressure no fuss also tagging anyone who would like 2 participate 💕

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mx-lamour · 5 months

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my memorys super stinky and i forget who i do/dont send asks too so ignore if i did hehe; im sending asks to people with 'ask me anything' in their bio thingy; feel free to answer or not, or however youd like!

what is your favorite holiday or occasion/theme?

what fragrance/scents put you in a good mood?

what kind of weather do you love?

if you could have a dream about anything, what would you dream about?

what kind of treats do you love/make you feel happy?

what's your favorite hands-on activity (or what would you like to try)?

what kind of music are you craving/listening to right now?

what's something that makes you smile/laugh when you think about it?

I love asks! ty! ♡

Favorite holiday/occasion/theme:

Mabon and weddings.

What fragrance/scent puts you in a good mood?

Petrichor and cinnamon/pie spices.

What kind of weather do you love?

That summer thing where it rains gently but the sun is still shining and the color green gets super saturated.

The kind of still, perfect temperature where you almost can't even feel the air, and it's dark but the sky is clear and you can see the stars.

When it's going to rain, hard, but not yet, and there's the sneaking undercurrent of a breeze, too low to be wind, and it's the kind of uncanny dim where you have no frame of reference for the time of day, and everything in the world seems to be holding its breath.

I like liminal weather.

If you could dream about anything?

I have no idea how to answer this one, haha. I'm always dreaming.

Treats that make you happy?

Cheesecake is the first thing that comes to mind. I eat it very rarely, but it's delicious. The consistency is very rich and satisfying.

My mom used to do homemade cheesecake sometimes, and I have a serious nostalgia for grasshopper (mint/chocolate) in particular.

My husband and I pilgrimmage to the Cheesecake Factory around Valentine's Day most years. (I think my favorite there is the mango lime flavor.)

Oh gods. Tiramisu. I go crazy for tiramisu.

What's your favorite hands-on activity (or what would you like to try)?

A fascinating new one: I just learned how to tack up and ride a horse for the first time! I did it for research/writing, but now I really want to ride a horse again. It was very cool. I got the info I needed for my fic, but I don't think I've yet figured out the vocabulary to really fully describe the experience. Very stimmy, though; soothing and exciting. That good riding posture, man. I get it now. I get why people love horses.

Current music:

Pretty much just constantly on my D&D and fanfic playlists. Here's kind of a random selection...

"Start a War" by Klergy/Valerie Broussard is stuck in my head rn.

"Two Gypsies" by Solace is what I listen to about Ezra's mom.

"The Pines" by Roses & Revolutions is for my Immortality fic.

"Lover. Fighter." by SVRCINA has been a good all-purpose one.

"The Empire of Winds" by Alpine Universe is just a serious vibe.

"Dracula" by Bea Miller is one of my latest bops.

"No F.E.A.R." by Madalen Duke, also fun.

Something that makes you smile/laugh when you think about it?

Embarrassing old men.

(I was going to add something to that, but I literally just wrote it and busted up, so. I guess that's it. 🤣)

#ask #lamour answers #cheesecake #horseback riding #song recs #creative writing #liminal #old men

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lifblogs · 11 months

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Summer Reading/Writing/Arting Tag

Tagged by: @evilwriter37

Tagging: @ashleybenlove, @knowerofuselessfacts, @eddieelliotmunson, @poisonedyouth, @stand-up-and-screamo, @jayalaw, @strawbearri-frog, @thetrapperstrap, @envydean, @uh-ohspaghettio, @cascigarette, @fictionalnormalcy, @flurbejurbvondurp, @iidigestive-readerii, and @thepagemasternerd

1) Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the summer.

I just finished my first ever novelette “The Dragon Mark,” and I actually really loved being in that world. I am planning on writing a companion piece, “Zhang Jue’s Demon,” and I just want to know more too! Maybe I’ll start writing something from the character Yuxuan’s POV before he’s assassinated. He seems fun to work with. Am I planning a book? I don’t know, but I would love to stay with these characters for the summer.

2) Rec a book!

She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan! It’s great political and war fantasy and with only 411 pages it still somehow seems so jam packed! It’s also queer in its own way. Basically the main character was told her fate was nothing, to truly be nothing. So what does she do? Try to steal her brother’s fate after he dies, and she takes on his name, Zhu Chongba. So publicly, one of the main characters is a man and has roles that a man would have. Another central character is a eunuch general named Ouyang, and I love him. This takes place near the end of the Great Yuan Dynasty (the rule of the Mongols) and the rise of the Ming Dynasty.

But okay if you need a summery book read Son of a Sailor by Marshall J. Moore. Pirate Captain Quint Thatch goes back to his island home of Ember Bay after the death of his father, and is trying to hide his pirate identity from everyone. This doesn’t go very well because his crew eventually shows up, and two parts of his life collide. It’s summery, it’s fun! I didn’t even think it’d be my kind of book and I adored it. The author suggests reading it near a body of water and with a cold drink nearby, and I heartily agree!

3) Rec a fic!

Holy crap, A Thousand Lives is so good. It actually understands the Force and the Jedi! It’s a Star Wars: Rebels AU where Kanan is an Inquisitor hunting down Ezra while he slowly falls in love with Hera. The implication of a thousand versions of them existing that’s put in the epigraphs is truly fantastic. I don’t usually like Star Wars fics because of how many people misunderstand the Jedi but this one was truly amazing. I can’t wait to read it again.

4) Rec music!

Fam, I’m forever listening to the album If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power by Halsey. I do want to update my music at some point though, see what my favorite artists have been putting out.

5) Share one piece of advice!

Find something you like and own it, without any shame. If others want to join then good! If people want to be negative about what you enjoy then they’re not worth your time. Your own enjoyment is precious, and when you work towards it you will find moments you like—or even, love—existing in.

#tag game #about me

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whirligig-girl · 1 year

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The Mellanoid Planetary System -- Home of the "Mellanoid Slime Worms”

(Star Trek fanon worldbuilding)

The Mellanoid-Sun is a G8V Main Sequence Star a little cooler, less luminous, and more metallic than The Sun (Sol).

Orbiting close to the sun is Class-T hot Neptunian world, Cool Ember, which is so close to the Sun it is rarely seen except during afternoon, morning, and twilight. When seen through a telescope, it is sometimes blue and sometimes red, depending the orientation of its bright face. The sun-facing side is blue due to rayleigh scattering in its cloudless atmosphere and the night side is glowing a dull red due to heat from within the planet.

Very analogous to Mercury and the Inner Bajoran Planets is the Class-D planet Rabbit, a tidally locked cratered world. The far side is covered in ice. Its fast orbit has given it the name that could be vaguely translated as “Rabbit” (a sort of quick herbivorous vertebrate).

Rabbit is the largest member of an asteroid belt that extends out from Cool Ember to just under Omen’s orbit.

Beyond the inner planets is Omen. It is a “Class-J” gas giant of 2 Jupiter Masses which formed in the outer solar system and migrated inwards, disrupting the existing planet-forming disk. It has four substantial moons and about 15 minor satellites. It exists within the habitable zone, and its satellite planets are quite diverse. Rival is the innermost satellite planet, Class H and volcanic, followed by Lake, a Class O pelagic world, Spark, an airless Class D moonlike world, and Oldsky, a Class M habitable satellite planet.

Omen and Oldsky are also known in the Federation by their Zaldan names, Rarchilk and Ragdus, as prior to joining the Federation, the Zaldan Military operated an outpost and research station on Ragdus. Mellanoids sometimes refer to Oldsky as Ragdus, but they ALWAYS refer to Omen by that word.

Omen has a few asteroidal coorbital companions, but not very many, as the trojan population has been destabilized by a very large coorbital...

Omen’s largest coorbital companion is Mellanus, the M-class homeworld of Mellanoid Slimes (Such as Murph Prodigy & Eaurp Guz). Mellanus is very similar in radius to Earth, but it’s slightly less massive and lacks any major satellites. It does have two small asteroid satellites.

Mellanus’s shallowest oceans are covered in a thin layer of slime--but it’s enough that it actually makes up the majority of the planet’s biomass. Its forests and deserts are a little more conventional, with slime life uncommon in the deserts except for Mellanoid Slime People and reasonably common but not dominating in the forests.

Mellanus had its first contact with aliens in the 2320s or 2330s, via the Zaldans. Mellanus’ Fed-standard name comes from the Zaldans. When they Zaldans joined the Federation, they cut contact with Mellanus as they were pre-warp, and abandoned their outpost on Ragdus.

Mellanus invented their own warp drive in the 2360s, and were fast-tracked into the Federation for political reasons during the Dominion War, as it was feared they might otherwise be manipulated by the changelings.

Mellanus has successfully lobbied to resist Starfleet interference in their space affairs, and, with nuclear fission, chemical propulsion, and rudimentary impulse and warp drives, are focusing on exploring their own solar system before they “let starfleet have their fun.”

Mellanus is in a Horseshoe Orbit of Omen. Roughly every 18 Mellanus years, it makes a close approach to Omen in its orbit. Omen’s gravity pulls it into a higher orbit, then 18 years later they meet on the other side, and Omen’s gravity pulls it into a lower orbit. Omen got its name as, when it begins to get very large in the sky, it its a portent of a changing seasonal arrangement. In the low orbit, summers may be harsh and winters mild, and in the high orbit, summers mild and winters bitter.

Omen creates another season cycle as well, that of interest in astronomy and space exploration. For the whole time the Space Program has existed, every 18 years at each close approach of Omen, people are more and more willing to support the Space Program as it is a quite striking and visible reminder of how much space affects life on Mellanus.

Beyond Omen is a substantial gap where a few unstable asteroids orbit, analogous to the trojans of our solar system. Beyond that is Glerbuh, a proper name for an ancient deity of Time.

Glerbuh is a Class-J super-jupiter of about 4 Mj, with 13 small icy worlds (most either P-class or D-class), and over a hundred irregular captured satellites! With a telescope, if you carefully blot out the light of the planet itself, you will see a faint nebulousity surrounding the planet. This was first identified by an astronomer who was so skilled at shapeshifting they could manipulate their eyes into achromatic telescopes, and thus easily work with internal obstructions near the focal plane. (Mellanoid Slime Astronomers on a budget may dissolve their eye lenses or figure their eye lenses manually rather than use real eyepieces, but this approach has limitations). The cause of the nebulosity was suspected in the photographic era but it wasn't until early space probe missions that the cause was definitely determined: Almost all of Glerbuh's innermost rounded moons are cryovolcanically active, including a pair of horseshoe coorbitals, and they are spewing water ice from their internal oceans into space. This is potentially one of the most interesting and unique astrobiological environments--a system of moons swapping ice, water, and maybe even microbes, and would be worthy of exploration by Starfleet, except that Mellanus demands to continue its own space program.

Beyond Glerbuh are five ice giants. Four of them were known to Mellanoids prior to Federation membership, the other one was discovered using subspace sensors and orbits extremely far out, but is the most massive of them. They are 7, 11, 14, 5, and 18 Earth Masses respectively, and each have moon systems worthy of study. Only Two of the ice giants have yet been visited by robotic spacecraft, the first and third one. (The first was explored by a dedicated mission, the third one was a third flyby in an Omen-Glerbuh-Eauauh flyby chain) minor planets, comets, and full size planets are by convention named for their discoverer*, so the ice giants are named:

Glarpi

Shpler

Eauauh

Flibul

Schmidt (named for Captain Schmidt of the U.S.S. Courage, who first reported the planet--though it's probable the Zaldans knew of it first and never mentioned it in their pre-federation dealings with the Mellanoids.)

*When Glarpi was discovered, it was originally named Slarmock's Star, after an emperor. Needless to say, astronomers from other mellanoid nations of the time didn't take well to this name, and called it such things as the Demon Star, the Fool Star, or just, The Sixth Planet. Eventually it was referred to as Glarpi's Planet, or just Glarpi, and that was how it was. When someone discovers more than one object, it can either be given a name followed by a number, or the second object can be named after a friend of the discoverer, with certain rules established by the Mellanoid Astronomical Nomenclature Office regarding not naming it after politicians or especially controversial figures.

(Deep out in the far reaches of the Mellanus star system, where no spacecraft or starship have ever been, lies Schmitt, the last and heaviest ice giant. It was picked up on subspace sensors and later recovered by Mellanoid Astronomers using an orbiting space telescope. Nothing is known about it aside from its pinkish color and the fact that it has a very substantial moon for its size.)

#Mellanoid Slime Worm #slimegirl #astronomy #planets #space #space art #gas giants #ice giants #Star Trek #horseshoe orbit #worldbuilding #solar system

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animatorweirdo · 11 days

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Found Forgiveness

Luthien shows you the forest of Doriath. You are awed by the sights and the sheer beauty of the nature around you. Beneath the summer sun, you tell her about your experiences in the Sudden Flames and partially tell her the truth about your curse.

Warnings: mentions of the Sudden Flames, burning, toxic air, war, attack on the village, dead family members, incurable curse, a bit of angst, reader might have a bit of PTSD, being in pain, heat stroke, passing out, waking up, and reader having the chance to apologize to Melui.

Chapter 16

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

The forest felt alive.

Luthien showed you many interesting spots in Doriath. Trees that seemed to grow around each other, colorful flowers even you had never seen before, rivers that flowed across the kingdom, and a meadow filled with butterflies of all colors.

You were amazed by the sights. The forest was magical. It was like walking through a Disney princess’s dream.

You felt like a little child and pestered the elven princess to show you more places and things she could do. She seemed more than happy to, even joining in little ideas and experiments you came up with and it was so much fun. When something would go wrong or not as planned, you two would laugh uncontrollably and then start with the next idea.

You were initially a bit shy and quiet around Luthien, but after spending hours in the forest together, laughing and doing silly things, you felt like you two had known each other for years. It was nearly odd how quickly you two clicked, but you were happy that Luthien was a laid-back and fun type of elf, unlike her parents.

You two were leisuring on a batch of grass beside a small stream that flowed beneath you, talking about your homes and things. A rabbit was lying comfortably on your lap after you managed to befriend it with Luthien’s help, enjoying the pets and soft strokes you couldn’t stop giving it. A few nightingales were flying around, sometimes landing on your shoulders and accepting the flower seeds from your hands before flying off again.

You couldn’t help but be awed by the animals. You never imagined there would be a day when you could interact with wild animals without them running away. You weren’t going to complain, though. It was like a child’s dream come true.

Luthien was giggling after you told her a funny story from your childhood.

“Hey, (Name). You are from the north, right? Do you know anything about Dagor Bragollach?” Luthien questioned.

"A what now?" you asked, slightly confused by the word while raking your fingers through the rabbit’s fur.

"The battle that occurred last winter, when Morgoth set everything ablaze?" Luthien looked at you curiously.

"Oh! The Sudden Flames! Yeah, I was there when it happened," you said. "It was one cold night when it happened, and everything began to go badly from there, but things are better now," you explained.

“Could you tell me more about it? My father doesn't allow a lot of news to get heard by me," Luthien questioned.

"Damn— Is he that protective of you?" you questioned with a teasing tone.

"I mean, I could tell you about it, but not a lot of good things happened back then. It is a bit of a heavy subject, and I do not want to ruin the mood,” you stated.

"No—please do tell me," Luthien said, leaning against the palm of her hand and staring at you with intrigue.

"Okay... Well, like I told you. It started on one cold winter night," You started as you recalled the night it happened. “I couldn't sleep, so I decided to watch the stars, but then I saw something glowing behind the mountains,” you said, remembering the glow you saw behind the mountains.

"It was so bright that it nearly lit the night sky, and then the earth shook violently, waking up my roommate and everyone else in the village,” you described while Luthien listened attentively.

"We then saw the fire that burned the land across us. Our village was located behind the mountains of Himring, so the fire did not reach us, but we saw how the fire continued spreading, and everything burned especially Maglor’s Gap,” you explained. Luthien nodded thoughtfully.

"No one couldn't sleep well that night and the air had become so toxic with ash that we had to wear rags around our faces. The fire was also so intense that the snow melted and it was warm for a whole week before it became cold again,” you added.

"Then.. I met with an old friend, and bad things started to happen..." you hesitated to tell more, remembering the night when the orcs attacked your village.

“Orcs attacked our village, and then…” Your mind flashed to the memories where you turned into the beast and ended up getting separated. Your mind fell quiet at the awful memories when you were imprisoned in Maglor’s old fortress, and everything that followed.

"Let's just leave it there. I do not prefer to talk about the things that followed…” you stated.

"I can understand that. It must have been scary to survive something like that,” Luthien said sympathetically.

"Oh, it was terrifying. We barely made it out with our lives," you said. "We then settled in our new home and that was that," you added.

"Morgoth is not someone to screw around with since he was capable of causing destruction like that,” you remarked.

Luthien was quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought before looking at you.

"(Name), there's something I've been meaning to ask," she said.

"Well, what is it?" you looked back at her curiously.

"I think my curiosity was peaked when we first met and when my mother asked to talk with you in private,” she explained.

"But the thing is that I sense something within you," she looked at you closely. Your face paled, but you kept yourself composed.

"Like what?" you tried to play ignorant.

"Something... dark, evil maybe. I can't sense it fully, but I know it's hiding there," she described.

"So, what is it that you and my mother do not want to tell me?" she asked as she leaned closer to you.

You hesitated, contemplating if you should tell her about the curse, as you did with her mother. Then, you remembered what her mother was, and released a sigh.

"Well... you are a half Maia so you would have probably sensed it sooner or later," you stated then looked at her in the eye.

"Luthien, I've not been completely honest with you because I did not want to worry you..." you started. "But the thing you are sensing within me… it's a type of illness," you revealed.

"You're ill?" Luthien looked at you with a mix of confusion and worry.

"Yeah, but it's not a deathly type of illness. It’s more like parasitic," you explained. "A magical kind," you added.

"I had an incident when I was young. I lost my birth family and then I was cursed with this illness,” you explained.

"(Name), why didn't you tell me earlier? We could help you find a cure for this illness. Perhaps this is why my mother's girdle allowed you to pass," Luthien questioned.

“It’s not that simple…” you shook your head.

"This illness cannot be cured by medical means. It's a type of illness where trying to remove it could potentially kill me," you explained.

"But there is a medicine that could make it fall asleep or seal it away for a time, that way I have lived as normally as possible,” you said.

“I told your mother about it since she sensed it the first time she saw me, and since I no longer have my previous medicine, she agreed to help me find a replacement. I asked her to keep it private, so that’s why she didn’t tell you,” you explained.

“Oh…” Luthien stared at the grass for a moment. She looked slightly sad, and you desperately wanted to comfort her.

"Are you certain there isn't a way to cure your illness completely?" Luthien asked.

“Unfortunately, no…” you replied.

“But, I’ve gotten used to living with this illness. I even managed to live past my twenties. It is a feat because not many children who contract this illness live very long,” you said.

“So, you do not have to feel sad for me or anything,” you added.

“But if that’s true… then… I don’t know,” Luthien said. “Now, I just feel sad that you have been forced to live with this kind of illness and there’s no way to cure it,”

“Well, some things can’t be controlled, and you just have to find a way to live with it,” you stated.

Suddenly, you felt incredibly warm, and a sharp pain shot through the back of your head. A groan escaped your lips as you leaned down, holding your head in pain. The rabbit hopped away and the nightingales tweeted worriedly.

"(Name) is everything alright?" Luthien asked as everything in your vision became ten times brighter, nearly blinding you.

Your head felt like it was going to fall off, and then you remembered that you had not taken any water in the past few hours.

"It seems I have forgotten something very important..." you uttered as your mind disappeared into oblivion. You blacked out and dropped against the grass like a log.

The last thing you heard was Luthien’s panicked voice, the birds flocking around and the stream before your eyes darkened.

When your consciousness finally returned, you felt yourself lying on something soft. The cool temperature of the room warded off the overwhelming heat from your body and helped your mind return to normal levels.

You then heard talking and saw Nelle talking with Luthien, who seemed slightly frantic while explaining what happened. There was a white-haired elf with them and your mind refused to recognize him. You decided to groan and get up, catching their attention.

"(Name) you are awake, “ Nelle approached you and then pushed a glass of water into your hands. “Drink this water. You passed out from severe overheating beneath the sun" Nelle said and you didn’t put any protest, drinking the cold water in one gulp.

The water quickly helped your mind clear up and ward off the rest of the heat from your body. Cold glass of water was perhaps one of the only cold things you enjoyed.

"I have never seen someone overheat that quickly, and I have a feeling it has something to do with your illness. Why did you not tell me that you're vulnerable to the sun?" Nelle asked in a demanding tone.

You looked down embarrassed.

"I.. forgot," you replied.

Nelle sighed in frustration, shaking her head like you did the stupidest thing in the world, which in this case, you probably did.

"I seriously wonder how you managed to survive this long under those conditions," she stated.

"What can I say, trouble and sickness love finding me," you stated, then Luthien approached you.

“(Name), how are you feeling? “ she asked.

“I’m feeling much better. I’m sorry for startling you like that,” you rubbed the back of your head where you still felt the aching pain.

“That’s good. After you suddenly fell and wouldn’t respond, I carried you to Nelle as quickly as possible,” she said.

“Oh…” your face flushed at the thought of Luthien running through her home with you in her arms. “... sorry about that. Must have looked silly.”

You then looked at the white-haired elf and your mind finally recognized him.

"Melui…? " You questioned.

"Hello, (Name). It’s good to see you. You gave us quite the scare when Luthien ran into the halls with you in her arms," he said.

“Yeah, must have been quite the spectacle…” you replied then looked toward Nelle, slightly betrayed when you two agreed that you would prepare yourself before coming to see him.

"He insisted on seeing you when I told him you were here, then Luthien barged in with you in her arms," she explained.

"Right— How have you been doing? How's your... arm?" you turned toward Melui and glanced at the arm that was lying on an armrest.

"I am doing well. My arm has healed thanks to Nelle. I could already move my fingers," he said, stretching his moving fingers.

"That's great…" you said, nodding your head.

"Listen... about what happened," you started.

"I've already forgiven you. Nelle told me about your condition," Melui interjected.

"Yeah... but I want to say it. It's been bothering me, especially since I was the one who..." you hesitated, remembering Luthien was in the room. Melui seemed to catch on to your hesitation and allowed you to continue.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I should have... done better,"

Melui smiled softly. "I forgive you," he said.

"I'm more glad to see you alive and free," he said and you smiled, feeling like something heavy had finally been lifted from your shoulders.

You remembered something else, something also important.

"Ah fuck!" you said, startling the three elves.

"What's wrong? Is it your head again?" Nelle asked as they all looked at you.

"No! I've completely forgotten to send word home that I'm okay! Camilla is going to kill me," you explained. "Do you guys have paper and quill I can borrow?” you asked.

"I can fetch them for you. I can also handle sending it,” Melui stated

"Thank you, Melui. You are my saving grace," you said with your hands together, making him shake his head as he left the healer’s halls.

“Hey, keep drinking water. You need to keep yourself cool enough from the heat,” Nelle said as she gave you more water into the class from a jug

"Yeah, yeah yeah. You know, I think you and Camilla would get along. You two love ordering me around," you said as drank the second class. Nelle only rolled her eyes at you before going somewhere else.

You were left with Luthien.

“You, lady Nelle, and Melui seem like good friends,” Luthien said.

“Well, we actually met during Dagor Bragollach. I ended up being imprisoned in the same place as them when I tried to run away from orcs,” you explained.

“Then it must have been you, who helped them escape when they arrived in Doriath,” Luthien stated.

“I might have had a hand in that,” you replied.

“How did you do it? Lady Nelle told us that you all were imprisoned by one of Morgoth’s cruelest servants,” Luthien questioned.

“Well…” you trailed off as you remembered facing Langon in your bigger monstrous form and managed to bite his arm before he ran away.

“I had to do a few things to keep them distracted. It wasn’t much really, even though one of my decisions ended up causing Melui to lose his arm. I know I got his forgiveness, but I am still not proud of that one,” you explained.

“Well, Melui holds no grudge toward you and his arm is recovering. I think you can be proud that your actions ensured all of your escape,” Luthien smiled.

You smiled in return, feeling relieved and finally free from the guilt you felt. This day turned out to be a good one, minus the heat stroke.

Maglor sat quietly at his desk, swirling the quill in his hand and trying to push himself to do the work his brother had bestowed on him. However, his flow of work had been blocked by his worry for you and your well-being.

It has been a few days since your disappearance, and there were still no signs of you. He had told his patrols to keep out an eye for you, but so far nothing. Where could you be?

His ears perked when loud knocks coming from his door broke the silence.

“Come in,” he called out.

The door then opened and he half expected it to be his brother or one of his people, but to his surprise it was Camilla.

“My prince, can we talk?” Camilla said.

"Camilla, come in," Maglor said as he turned toward him in his seat. He then saw her walking in with a letter in hand.

"I got a letter from (Name) herself," Camilla said as she extended the letter to him.

"She's okay, but she has somehow gotten herself in Doriath," She said as he grabbed the letter and read through it.

Relief washed over him when he read through your handwriting, but then he grew more concerned when he read that you had sustained injuries and had to stay in Doriath for the time being.

He felt glad that you were safe and sound, but now he could not stop thinking about the possible injuries you suffered that you had to stay with Sindar, the elves who did not welcome him and his kin for what happened in the past.

"How did she get past Melian's girdle?" he questioned.

"Who knows? But at least we know she’s safe and not somewhere far,” Camilla replied.

“I’m going to send her the recipe for the medicine just in case. Come see me if you want to send her something so we can send both in one letter,” she turned toward the door. “I’m taking my leave now. I hope you feel much more at ease now that we heard something from her,” she said as she closed the door behind her, leaving Maglor alone with the letter and his thoughts.

Maglor read through the letter again. He felt comforted that you were safe, but couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if Thingol came to learn about your curse. The Sindar king was known to be rash in his decisions, but he always ensured the possible threats to his kingdom were eliminated.

#tolkien #silmarillion x reader #middle earth x reader #silm fic #middle earth #maglor #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #maglor x reader #maglor x human reader #cursed reader #modern reader #the spring heart's bloom

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bonesandthebees · 6 months

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HELLOOO WAVES WAVESSS I READ CHAPYER 1 OF ROSES LETS GOOO I am also very Eepy bc I just came back from work so I don't have that big of an ask bUTTTT this chapter was great holyshit I'm so excited to read spruce and snowflakes analysises like holyshit there is so much food, all of the little hidden meanings in everyone's words?? Like bro. Bro. I feel like every single word was consciously decided and well thought out. Every little thing is important and that is one of my FAV things in fics. I feel like there's gonna be a lot of foreshadowing in this fic. Also oooh :00 Tommy's playing a bigger part than I was expecting, I am now so?? Curious? Omgggg

God I am eating up these vibes so much Bee I love this so much already actually like this is SO lovely, reminds me a lot of the high fantasy novels I used to read which are my fav vibes ever :)) def like late summer reading eueueu this is gonna be fun to reread I can already tell omgomgomg

Why do I feel like Wilbur being blinded by the sun is going to play a bigger part in the story . You've mentioned it twice now I am Staring

Uhm I'm worried by Wilburs sheer amount of confidence about Niki being chosen. Makes me think maybe, just maybe, he is wrong

oh man I already love tntduo in this I am so excited rahhsss

LETS GOOOO SANDDUO TIME BAKRBAKDBKABDKSBDJBDKDBE

I love Phil

Also . Is Wilbur. Is he saying. Is he saying Phil is THE most powerful man . I am eyeing him. I am eyeing him so hard

"Of course I trust him" what if I cry .

Ranboo once again a spy LMAOFJFKGKGK I feel like everyone's gonna get war flashbacks to stars dhfjfkfk

Ooohhh mannn the tension is already high oohhh mannn I am so scared for this fic /pos

I'm so excited actually like . So excited. I am also incredibly tired so this is shorter than my normal asks FHFJ but just know that I am actually. Like. Holy shit I love this so much already Bee idk how to express this I'm so excited omhogmgogmg

This fic is already so cool. Like. Aaaaaaaaaaa

Okay I'll end this before I repeat myself for the thousandth time BUT JUST KNOW I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS. A LOT OF FEARS

Also I'm not going to be surprised if this ends up being my fav long fic from you. Like I am so biased towards medieval vibes but I also just?? Idk I'm really enjoying this first chapter and all of the levels of complexity that's involved. I just think this fic is going to be very, very fun :))

now that i've finished rose ch 2 i'm scrolling way back in my asks to answer some rose asks so hi icy :)

oh yeah writing rose so far is very much like writing stars in the sense that i have to be so careful about every word i use. I think things over so much and the dialogue especially has to be so carefully balanced. tbh it kind of makes it maddening to write but it's worth it it's worth it

I tried to keep tommy's level involvement a bit of a secret until I posted the first chapter, but yeah, he's actually a major player in this. I can't wait for you guys to meet him next chapter rose!tommy is going Through It

soooo glad you like the vibes I'm having so much fun with it so far. I can't wait to get more immersed in the atmosphere of everything

the sun can blind you when you look at it from a certain angle idk maybe I just thought it was a fun description and there's nothing else there :)))

rose!tntduo are SO fun you guys don't even know

if two people have a gun, who is the most powerful person? the one who pulls the trigger or the one who tells them where to point and when to shoot?

rose!sandduo makes me eat the walls phil trusts his son and loves him so much but also ohhhh their dynamic is so complicated

LMAO LOOK i didn't make ranboo a spy on purpose to reference stars it just sorta worked out that way c!ranboo is just a little hypocrite like that

i'm so glad you're enjoying it so far!! it's definitely going to be a brain shift going from glass to this and I'm already feeling the struggle but once I switch over I know I'm gonna get so into it I'm so excited to dive into this world and to hear everyones thoughts

#ask #icyfox17 #rose ch 1

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no-squared · 8 months

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An Ode to Grief

by me.

My mother carries her grief like a baby blanket. She's carried it as long as she can remember and on dreary nights she recognizes it as her birth right. In melancholic moments when the sun hits like a warm summer memory, she traces my brother's initials into the edges of the dusty yarn. It's a balm on her festering wound, just a touch, a whisper or a prayer. She clutches it tight between her fingers like a rosary. The baby blanket of my brother's life is beautiful and unfinished. There are perfect loops that feel like his first love, his first real dream, his favorite color. And there are parts so twisted and decayed they hang loose and weary. She covets each one and in days where the sun paints magic back into her veins, she drapes it over her shoulders and bears it for the world to see.

My father and I carry our grief like the moment between a punchline and laughter, full of anticipation, bated breathe and devastation waiting just over the horizon. We toss it back and forth, begging humor to consume truth and become whole. I poke fun at what little memories I have of the boy who was the man who was my hero. My father pokes fun at the infection that begins in his hands, from the wars won and lost. he keeps a granade instead of a baby blanket. He holds it in his iron fists on violent nights when he laments the words he will never be able to take back, keeps his finger on the ring and dreams of absolution.

My sister does not grieve, or lament, or pray. "I have a child," She says. She means she does not have a choice. She is a mother first, a mother last. She will not grieve with her son alive and well in the next room. She will not grieve with her husband, who is kind and reassuring. She will grieve along side no one, though she aches for it. She holds nothing, arranges the funeral, arranges the wake, arranges her grief into calculated moments cut short by her son's needs. She is changed and sheds the skin of grief each fall, but she always smiles for her little boy.

I had known from the first call that the wrong sibling was gone. I knew as I fell to my knees in the kitchen, as I packed a bag with numb fingers, as I greeted the family that had lost so deeply. I remember the bruising shackle of my mother's hand in mine, fingers crushing the veins of my wrist and the way she screamed over his casket. I remember the star of the american flag, tracing it with my finger because my brother was inside that wood and touching it would make it true. It couldn't be true. I know as my mother drags me from my father's side that my brother would know how to heal this. The thought buried itself behind my eyes, rose glasses of malice and forced me to the world through the lense of the ways in which I failed. I could not console my mother with a hand on her shoulder, I could not ease my father's regret with a joke, I could not steal the burden from my sister. I sat on a couch and stayed still enough for the rot to settle in the marrow of my bones. A woman tells me God needed another angel and I tell her that I needed my brother. I tell her that if it is God that greets me when I am done then I will become the beast that bites the hand that feed, for I have been starved and beaten and since he could not hear my prayers then he will go deaf by the fury of my complaints.

My grief lays in the hollow of my bed, fills the shape of my body like pooling water, It tethers me to the cold side of my bed and whispers. I am a reverend at a silent church composing purple prose for an audience of one, swearing by the book that God it isn't true, there's something else. There's always something else over the horizon and it may be tragedy but God what if it isn't. What if there is wonder there too, what if there is beauty growing from the rot? God does not answer me and neither do the devout.

I take up smoking, it chases away the shivers of anxiety carried like lightning to my heart. I take up drinking, a bit of cotton shoved into the brother-shaped nothingness of life. I take up three more substances, each less filling than the last. I do not try to kill myself again, my mother can not fit another baby blanket in her pocket, my father can not hold a grenade in each hand with a finger on the pin. My sister can not hide any more. But I cannot breathe anymore, I don't know who I'm grieving, who I've lost, I will never live up to the last words he ever said to me. But, I consider the loophole. An accident is forgivable. The funeral would be moderate and quiet and there would be no stories of my life shared with sparkling eyes. "I horrible thing," My aunt whispers, hand over her heart as if to shield it from her own words. "Wrong place wrong time," My uncle says as he hands my mother a bottle of whiskey. They will grieve and move on far easier than they did with my brother. And so I don't look every time I cross the road. I skip a meal because eating is a bother and it's outlived it usefulness to me. I pick up an extra shift though I can feel the bruises of my feet all the way to my knees. I do not try to die, though I know I wouldn't mind if something tragic were to happen.

My mother calls me crying. It's two days before it will be two years; she says she feel him anymore. Though I'm not there, I can see her hand over her heart, the same way my aunt would for me, I see it breaking under her palm, the staples pulling at their seams. I tell her I understand, though I don't. She tells me she doesn't know what to do. I tell her I've never known what to do. I tell her I don't think there is anything to do. The call lasts an hour and four minutes and with the dial tone ringing in my ears, we both wish she had called someone else. By the end of it I'm smoking again, though my efforts to stop were always half hearted. If I were to die choking on smoke, the blame would land in my palms and run through me like sand and they would be spared my slow death. By the end of my cigarette my sister texts me asking what I said to mom.

Their battles are not my own, I learn, when they start rebuilding themselves. It takes mortar and paste to soothe the angry red lines of their despair. It takes grit and blood and whatever they're willing to give. Their teeth turn gentle, the hurting subsides in favor of work and family and the next project. I watch my sister have her second child, she names her baby after him and when she looks at him, part of her sees the uncle her children will never get to know. I watch my mother throw herself into romance, into pre-rolls and nature, I watch her dig her heels in and bear the latest weight, she gets promoted and takes up paddle boarding. She seems happier afterwards, like the water has licked her wounds and baptized all the memories she had with her boy. I watch them but i can't emulate them. I lay awake at night wondering what I missed. I don't know the man they talk about, the man in their stories who's bright and full of life. He was everything to me, my nightmare and my greatest ally but I was too young to truly know him, had grown up mostly without him. I have so few memories and in all of them he is young. I can't rebuild myself, I was never that strong. I've been held together by luck even before and now the tools I used are rusted and splintered, they wouldn't do for the craftsmanship this requires. I fall quietly behind.

I have a dream that began a few days after the second anniversary. It begins with my mother and I fighting. We're yelling at each other, circling like wolves with blood dripping from our jaws. It turns violent, we've become violent. There's vitriol in our words and kerosene welling up in our eyes. I throw something at her and tell her that I can't even remember my brother's face. The dream changes and I see him in the hall of our childhood home, his back turned to me. He's my brother in form and silloughette, I'd know him anywhere. He turns and has no face, nothing but a blank slate. I wake in terror and refuse to sleep until I'm too drunk to remember there was ever anyone there at all.

Things return to normal. I make slow improvements until my legs feel steady underneath me most days and I only think about him in the drinks before tipsy and drunk. I go home, I go to work, I work until my ankle swells and I lay in bed whenever I get the chance. But I survive, I continue. I turn the page and start new. I remember him in the way I treat others. I'd grown up in his shadow and now I live his honor. I take the extra step, give a free compliment, I open doors for others and I ask them about their day. I try to be sincere about it. I try to help where I can though my mother can not bare the failure in me any more than I can bear the disappointment in her and my sister will never see me as more than the obligation forced upon her by our parents. I'll never heal completely, I will never be able to overcome this, I will never not be mourning him in the corners of my mouth or the ringing in my ears, I will never truly know what it was like to have a brother.

When August comes around I will retreat to the shadows of my blankets, I'll lock the windows and the doors and turn down the lights. I'll clean the apartment and stock my fridge with liquor and microwave meals. I'll take four days off near the end, I'll brush my teeth on the last night of July and avoid the hollow gaze of the bathroom mirror and I'll search for God in the bottom of bottles and find him on the bathroom floor instead. I'll be shivering and dizzy, I'll feel the liquor burning through my gut, nourishing the rot that set in so long ago and God will sit with me. He'll hold my hair back as I vomit the words that got stuck in my throat so long ago and he'll lay me down to sleep on the cold tile. He'll sing to me and wish me well but will never tell me he's sorry. I am too weak to plead my case and that's why he's gone by morning.

I wake alone and tired and can't remember a time I felt any different. I pick myself off the floor and into a new skin. A new day dawns and I try one last time. Grief lives in baby blankets and grenades and silence, it lives in my bones and behind my eyes, no room will ever be full again, no noise enough to drown a vacancy of one not there. I will live forever knowing that the wrong sibling died, unable to seek salvation, turning a blind eye to absolution, taking the Devil's side and keeping everything neatly folded behind the curtains of apathy I have cultivated. The unbreakable solitude of my grief will hold me far better than a lover, will deliver sweet kisses of encouragement and dredge the memories written into my genetics. I live inside my grief, to large for anyone to notice. My grief will settle in one of the chambers of my heart and claw it's way from my ribcage each August leaving carnage in it's wake and broken glass in my veins. I'll be undone by this terrible thing but until that day I will pick myself from my bathroom floor and I'll remember that my brother loved me enough to use my name as his laptop password, that he kept the letter I wrote to him while he was off fighting a war he hadn't been alive at the beginning of, that my brother's last words to me were that he was proud of me.

#my writing #writing #creative writing #poetry #poetic #grief #tw grief #mourning #death mention #tw substance abuse #sad

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sybillctrelawney · 8 months

Text

had a dream so big and loud i jumped so high i touched the clouds. i stretched my hands out to the sky. i howled at the moon with friends and then the sun came crashing in. but all the possibilities; no limits, just epiphanies. don't wake me now.

basics.

name: sybill cassandra trelawney. meaning: prophetess and oracle. will help tap into their inner magic. nickname: sybbie. syb. birthday: february 23rd. pisces. age: twenty-two. pronouns: she + her. sexuality: romantic asexual. bisexual. siblings: none. parents: benjamin trelawney (father, deceased). iris trelawney nèe fox (mother). other family: anne fox (maternal grandmother). cassandra trelawney (great-great-grandmother, deceased). languages: english. current residence: hogwarts. born: cornwall, england.

wizard fun.

hogwarts house: ravenclaw. hogwarts year: eleven. area of study: divination / universal certificate. extracurriculars: astrology (president). herbology club. affiliation: neutral. pet: bengal cat, eeyore. blood status: half-blood. species: witch. patronus: dapple gray mare. boggart: her father's car crash. amortentia scent: sea salt air, stardust, animal hair, grass. wand type: willow, unicorn hair, 10 ⅛ inches.

appearance.

height: 5'2" hair color: dark brown. eye color: brown. hair style: thick, straight and has character. fashion style: prep school + nerdy chic.

personality.

positive traits: + whimsical + open-minded + hopeful negative traits: - too trustful - flighty - frazzled

theme song: wildflowers by tom petty.

quick facts.

father died at nine. where she gets her moral compass from. shaped her life completely. they were best friends. his death was her first vision.

didn't have a tight knit group of friends. but very friendly and never turning anyone away, no matter who they are or what they stand for.

very academic yet head in the clouds all at once.

during fifth year she did fortune telling for people just to get people's attention. she began to lie about what she saw. she angered herself so much and during that summer vowed to never do it again and hasn't since.

stays neutral and doesn't care about the war.

headcanons.

updated frequently.

bio.

[ tw: parental death. ]

the stars aligned in cornwall, england when magical father, benjamin and muggle mother, iris, welcomed sybill, forming the three musketeers. the family was tight knit and supportive of one another. she and her father were particularly close, a glorified daddy’s girl. iris loved seeing the two of them grow close as she had never had a father figure of her own.

sybill was strongly encouraged her to explore her abilities. it wasn't since her great-great-grandmother, cassandra, that anyone had shown signs of having visions and being a seer. they had always told her that the truth laid within her and facts are what the world saw, both of which she needed to believe in. it was a hard concept for her to grasp due to the fact that she lived in her own head, but sybill listened. she would go to work with benjamin at the cornwall library and read books on books learning all she could about the muggle world. there she was, teaching herself before ever going to school. she longed to learn and her parents nurtured her desire. but the one day she didn’t go to the library, tragedy hit.

sybill was nine years old. sybill had her first vision. benjamin died. sybill stood still, her voice dropped octaves, and she said her benjamin wasn’t coming home. she didn’t remember saying anything but she could recall an empty feeling. a blank feeling came over her and like something had been ripped from her chest. once she came to, she was ice cold and shivering. her vision didn’t show her what exactly happened. all she knew is he was there and then BAM. no more. his earthly presence was gone. this vision, her first, terrified her. she didn’t want this gift if it was going to show her things like that. for a brief moment, sybill actually had the thought that if he died, she should have died with him. he was her rock and she, his. her only way to understand death was through her first vision. iris stood up to the plate, not to replace her father but to be a strong parent. she didn’t know how to help foster her daughter’s gift, but told sybill that her father would be proud of her for continuing the line in their family. he wouldn’t want her to give up. -- this stuck with sybill because she knew her mother was right. she fought to never give it up in her father’s name: trelawney.

when sybill’s letter from hogwarts came it was bittersweet. it was something she had been waiting for since she could breathe but her father wasn’t there to hug in celebration and to see her off. at king’s cross iris held her still tiny sybill just a little more and sniffled, slipping something into the young girl’s bag. “you almost forgot this.” it was the copy of winnie the pooh benjamin had given to sybill as a gift, one of her prized possessions. she reached out and hugged iris a little tighter with tears in her eyes. the time had come to get on the train for the first time, get on the boats and enter the dining hall for the first time. and, finally, to be sorted.

it was no surprise that the self-educating sybill was sorted into ravenclaw, where the mind was most valued -- and benjamin’s old stomping grounds. she sat at the table with her back straight, head held high, smile on her face and with pride. she was where she was supposed to be. the sorting felt like it was a sign that she could, indeed, live in both the worlds her parents described and she did so to the best of her abilities. later that night she wrote an owl home to her mother to tell her how she felt that things were going to be fantastic, that it felt right and that she loved her. this would become a routine each night before bed.

sybill loved being at hogwarts though she did have trouble fitting in. she wasn’t entirely shocked by that. she always knew she was different, but not that different. It wasn’t easy to make friends, but she saw the best in people, always spoke up and never let a sad face be alone. she knew sadness and didn’t want that for another soul, no matter the circumstance. however, because of her desire to fit in, she did something questionable her fifth year. the biggest thing she was ashamed of.

the other students knew she was highly adept in divination and was a seer; it was something she was proud of and didn’t see a reason to hide it. there was this first person to come to her and asked what she saw in their future. sybill to seize up and had to make a quick decision. yes or no. she chose yes. after that one person, word got around and people came to sybill as though they’d been friends for years. after some time, she had to begin lying. she couldn’t read everyone’s cards or tea leaves and she certainly wasn’t having visions for anyone. over that summer she made the decision that she wasn’t going to do it anymore. it was against her moral code. she was livid with herself that she did it in the first place, all to get attention. after telling people no it was no surprise that those people drifted away as quickly as they came. it broke sybill’s heart but deep down she knew why they’d been there in the first place -- and it wasn’t for her. from then on out, sybill’s compass was where she followed.

the years passed and sybill began growing into a young woman, she looked around her and saw that fellow students were seriously dating and some were even getting betrothed -- already. she couldn’t believe it. all sybill wanted was to continue learning, cultivate her arts of divination, astronomy and herbology. she wanted to discover where she would go with her talents. she wanted to keep learning, to know everything about everything. one field of study wouldn’t be enough for her, leaving her no time for romance -- if anyone even wanted something romantic with her. either way, she was preoccupied. also either way, friendships were the relationships she yearned to see thrive. that’s what she reminded herself anyway.

as the war comes closer to home, she tries to maintain a neutral stance but it’s hard because she’s sybill. she always sticks out because of how she carries herself; head in the clouds and without a care in the world with only one life to live. if her father’s death taught her anything, it was to live each day as though it was the last. he wouldn’t want her wasting it on the chance that something could happen because someday it will, so why fear living? she wasn’t going to live in fear. and she wasn’t going to live in anger or bitterness. her heart was pure. too pure to pick a side in a war that shouldn’t exist. so she wakes up, puts on her dresses, brushes her hair and teeth then sets off for a day full of what? she doesn’t know but is excited to find out.

#bio.#nox;intros

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