#almost spelled strategy as tragedy

[jeonggukookies]

crown's kingdom || two

summary: now engaged to prince jungkook, you both must figure a way to make this alliance work while your enemies try to tear it apart.

– genre: royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au, prince!jungkook, queen!reader, arranged marriage - fluff/angst

– word count 4637

– warnings: please read note if you haven't read changes

index || one

“Look what we have here.” Despite your eyes being completely shut, you knew who took a seat next to you on the bench by recognizing his voice. “I want to say what a beautiful dress you have on there, but I’m afraid I have to tell you the truth. Your morning dress looks like a tablecloth for afternoon lunch.” 

To start off your mornings, you woke up before the sun, craving to have at least an hour alone in the chapel, free from anyone to interrupt your morning meditation and prayers. It was one of the few times when you were alone, not surrounded by any servants or guards. You were able to find solace—until Jungkook came. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of having your presence near me at this time?” You asked politely, still with your eyes closed and your hands pressed together, fingers pointed upwards, deep in prayer.

For the last week, you and Jungkook had been doing an excellent job avoiding each other despite the public announcement of the engagement. You always tried to make your schedule as busy as it could be, not wanting to spend a second alone with him. You filled your time up with more violin lessons and analyzing war strategies and patterns from your father’s old journal. Eventually, you were going to have to interact with Jungkook and fool everyone that the two of you were in love, but you didn’t expect him to find out about your schedule, taking the time to wake up early to come find you in the prayer room. 

“Perhaps the dress would be better as a tablecloth,” he suggested, pulling at the puffy sleeves, attempting to get a rise out of you. “And perhaps, you on that particular table.” 

“To the Divine Spirit, please forgive me for all I have sinned and will sin.” Opening your eyes, you smacked Jungkook’s arm, annoyed by his antics. With a smirk on his face, he’s chuckling, satisfied to get a reaction out of you. 

“It’s almost six in the morning, and you really want to start off the day by pissing me off?” You gritted through your teeth, trying not to raise your voice. “Can you be a pain in the ass somewhere else? And not in this sacred space? A place where I find peace?”

“I quite believe this is the perfect time and place to do it,” he remarked, trying to hide the mischievous smile on his face. “You have to get used to it if we are to be wed soon.” 

“Do not remind me of this terrible tragedy.” You groaned. “May we pray that the fates decree our union not come to pass."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed with your response. “Why do you act like a grandma? No one our age speaks like that or wakes up this early to pray! Just say, ‘God, I hope we don’t marry.’”

“Are the words too big for you to understand?” You pushed your lower lip out, pretending to feel bad for him. “Is that why you were engaged to Comet? The girl whose named after her own country but can’t spell her name without help from her tutors? You know stupid plus stupid doesn’t cancel each other out, right?”

“And you know praying every day isn’t going to erase any of the sins you’ve committed in the past, right?” He mocked. “I’ve been wondering where you’ve been the last couple of days, and now I realize that I shouldn’t have gone through so many people to find out that you wake up so early to pray. I should have remembered you were so boring.” 

You scoffed. “Wow, you must be really thinking about me all the time? To be asking others about my schedule? To be wondering where I am at? You must not have a life, huh?”

“Alright, it’s already been one week, and I’ve had enough. I don’t think I can handle you for the rest of my life.”

“Then do something about it,” you snapped. 

“You don’t think I haven’t?” He snapped back, looking at you with the same amount of anger in his eyes. “What do you think I was trying to do for the last week? While you were hiding away in your room, I was trying to secretly change this alliance. Maybe with your help, I can easily break off the engagement and toss you like a pebble in the lake.”  

For a moment, you were offended that you were disposable to him, making it seem like you desperately needed him and his country more than he needed you. 

You can play this game too, you thought to yourself. 

With your index finger, you gestured for him to come closer to you, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “And if you shall give up the position of ruling two countries, maybe even three one day, would the current King of Aurum be happy with that? Could he let you live in peace if you were to ruin the alliance without his permission?” 

Jungkook learned his lesson for the day and finally shut his mouth, letting the devotion area be peaceful for the rest of the morning. He put his hands together, silently mouthing along to some basic scriptures. 

“Amen,” you whispered, putting your hands together, ready to medicate and pray next to Jungkook. 

_________ 

Dasher, the new Prince of Cometes, could have gone to command his new military forces, started imposing taxes, or simply have done absolutely nothing as his first task as a royal. Instead, he decided the first thing to do was to go to Aurum to renegotiate their alliance as their circumstances had now changed. 

After eating breakfast, you were asked to accompany Jungkook to greet the new prince. His parents thought it was a perfect opportunity to showcase the new alliance between the two countries. 

“I’m glad you changed out of that old curtain you had earlier,” Jungkook said when you arrived next to his side. The two of you were outside the palace, waiting for the Cometes’s carriage. “You would have made it seem like I downgraded.” 

“Well, I sure did.” You forced a smile, looking straight ahead where the horses were coming at a steady pace a few meters away from you. “Don’t understand why I have to be here like I’m you’re fucking babysitter.” 

“Here he comes.” You turned your head to look at Jungkook, and you find him already staring back at you. He was holding his breath, having a tense look on his face. It had been a while since you’ve seen Jungkook look this apprehensive. “Can you do this?”

When the two of you were learning all the types of ballroom dances, Jungkook’s face was always pale before he had to perform and get evaluated by our instructor. You knew it wasn’t because he was ten years old, dancing with a girl; he was a perfectionist, afraid to take the wrong step and embarrass himself in front of everyone. 

As he had gotten older, he had done a better job at hiding his anxiety, trying to look like the Golden Prince everyone saw him to be. He’s been doing such a great job, that even you forgot he had the capability to be nervous. He wasn’t just a snarky and egomaniacal prince; Jungkook, too, was a human with fears and imperfections. 

“Absolutely.” Without giving you any context, you knew what he was asking. He needed your reassurance—that the two of you could convince the future King of Cometes, that your shared hatred will be hidden by the love of your countries. “Don’t be afraid.” 

Before the horses came to a complete stop, Jungkook straightened his posture, taking a deep breath. No longer looking nervous, he looked like he was ready to stand his ground, determined to become one of the best kings. 

Stepping out of the carriage, a silver-haired man as tall as Jungkook appeared. The man was wearing a close-fitting gray velvet doublet, embellished with white pearls along the seams. With a black linen shirt underneath, the pearls were able to stand out more, showing everyone his new power. 

“Prince Jungkook,” the man greeted. “Well isn't it quite lovely to see you again?”

“And now as equals this time, Prince Dasher,” Jungkook slyly commented. “I hope the ride here wasn’t too terrible with all the rain and mud this season.” 

“Not at all.” The man turned his focus on you, looking up and down, trying to analyze who you were to stand so close to the Prince of Aurum. “You must be Queen of Caelestia.”

“Please address me as Y/N,” you said politely. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Dasher.” 

“As to you, Your Grace.” He took a bow, showing his respects. “The rumors must be true then,” he said. “The two of you are going to wed.”

“Unless you’re here to propose to me, then plans can always be altered and rearranged,” Jungkook joked lightly, trying to ease the mood. You bit your lower lip to hold yourself back from laughing at his attempt. The joke itself wasn’t that funny, but the fact that Jungkook thought it was appropriate to say.

“I can assure you that I will not bore you with a proposal of mine.” Dasher took another look at you and Jungkook. He was trying to read the two of you. “And is your bride joining us for our negotiation?”

“She will not,” Jungkook answered right away, not giving you a second to react. There was some hostility in his voice. “Do you request her presence at our meeting between our two countries?”

“Just interesting that the future queen of Aurum will not be there.” Dasher raised his eyebrows. “Unless…”

“Well, we haven’t even decided on invitations! But I promise you that you’ll be one of the first to receive them.” You paused to look at Jungkook, linking your arm to his. “Isn’t that right, Darling?” 

He stared back at your eyes, deeply as if he were trying to your deepest, darkest secrets. Letting a small scoff, he smiled and looked back at Dasher. “Well, now that we got introductions out of the way, why don’t we head towards the affairs room to discuss the future of our people?”

________

With the arrival of Prince Dasher, you were expected to attend the evening activities. Typically, the evening activities were full of entertainment like live music, dancing, theater, and more. They were loud and socially draining at times, but you loved going, seeing it as an opportunity to enrich life and cultivate an appreciation for arts and culture. 

When walking into the courtiers’ hall, you can tell the King and Queen of Aurum went the extra mile in making tonight’s activities more lavish than usual, catering to their guests. You noticed how there were more servants around, refilling drinks and replacing empty food trays as quickly as they could. They were even using the fancy china that the Queen rarely used, wanting to keep it in mint condition. There were more musicians hired as well. With more musicians, they were able to proudly and loudly play traditional Cometes music, hoping to make the Cometes people feel at home. 

There were more people today, all participating in the elegant court dances, and board games and many were socializing, especially the women, probably hoping to find a suitor among the new guests. 

“Queen Y/N.” You turned your head to see Kim Taehyung, a Luxuria ambassador who resided in Aurum Court. “It’s a blessing to see you entertained by tonight’s festivities.” 

“Well, that can’t be right.” You took a few steps to be face-to-face with him. “Aren’t you always praying for my downfall?”

For the last two years, Kim Taehyung has been a cunning diplomat. On paper, his presence at court might be to handle situations between his country and Aurum, but really, his true mission was to antagonize you at court. Despite his constant terrorizing, you’ve kept your eye on him, following the rule: Keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer. 

He chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t seen you around court to give you my congratulations on your engagement to Jungkook.” 

“Thank you, Taehyung.” You forced a smile, and he smiled back. 

“And how has this engagement been so far?” 

“Quite amazing,” you lied. “Thank you for asking.”

“Is that why everyone is talking about Jungkook and your reluctance to marry each other?” He asked. “You know, Luxuria intelligence predicted this happening years ago. That somehow you would find a way to marry the next King of Aurum. That somehow the alliance between Aurum and Cometes would fall through.” 

“If you want to take your anger or frustration out on someone for the sudden change, Prince Dasher is present at court today as well.” You pointed in the direction where Dasher was. “Shall I introduce the two of you and be on my way?”

He took a step closer, trying to intimidate you. “How about instead you go on your way back to Caelestia and abandon this alliance with Aurum?”

“Is that a threat?” You asked, raising your eyebrows and letting out a humorless laugh. “Are you seriously threatening me?” 

“Not a threat,” he insisted. “Consider this as….a chance to save your country and people.” 

The smile disappeared from your face. You gritted through your teeth, “To save my country and my people, I need to take the chance and marry Jungkook for his armies against YOUR people!” 

“Then take the first step and go back home,” he suggested.

“And then how long would Luxuria come after my throne?” 

He refused to answer your question, changing the subject immediately. “Do not beg for mercy when I have given you the chance to correct yourself.” 

“And have you and your queen considered that mercy doesn’t need to be begged if Luxuria would stop sending its forces to my border?” 

He looked around, seeing if anyone was watching your interaction with him. He then smiled. “You may have been safe and across the sea all this time, but do not forget, Queen Y/N, even monarchs cannot escape death.” 

For a moment, you froze in place, feeling the anger grow inside your body. From a young age, you were taught that monarchs cannot show their emotions, and they shouldn’t especially show it to their enemies. 

Before you could react, Jungkook appeared by your side, putting his arm around you, hand on your shoulder. “Darling! Did you see that the servants made pavlova? We have to go get some before it all runs out, especially since these fruits aren’t even in season!”

“Excuse us,” you mumbled under your breath, directed to Taehyung.

Moving his arm, Jungkook then had his hand gently wrapped around your right wrist, pulling you into a private corner away from all the guests. As your back leaned against the wall, Jungkook let go of your wrist and stood directly in front of you, so you were face to face. 

“Don’t push me away,” he said in a low voice. “Are you okay?”

“He-he.” Out of nowhere, you started heavily breathing as if there was a limited amount of air in the room. You were unable to finish your thoughts, interrupted by every scenario going through your head. Tears were about to flood your eyes, ready to leave wet trails on your face. 

“Look at me,” Jungkook instructed, cupping your face with his hands, his eyes directly piercing into your soul once again. “Repeat after me. You are a queen.”

“Threat-threatened my-“ Jungkook cut you off. 

“I am a queen,” he emphasized, repeating himself slowly this time. “Say it with me. I am a queen.” 

“I am a queen,” you repeated, trying to believe the truth in those words. A couple more times, you repeated in a hushed tone, “I am a queen.” 

“Don’t let anyone see that you’re afraid,” he said after it seemed like you were finally calming down. “Let me be the only person to see you shaking like a small useless chihuahua.”

“Are you calling me—“ He cut you off again, not letting you finish his sentence.

“I know you’re not useless.” His hands held your face a little tighter, still refusing to break eye contact with you. “You’re a queen. You will be remembered as the benevolent queen of three countries one day. And while all of everyone’s great great great grandchildren are learning about you in history books, no one will remember his name. Don’t let him get to you now and let him become a footnote in the future.”

Nodding, a tear slipped, and you quickly felt Jungkook wiping the tear with his thumb, not letting anyone else see a Queen in a vulnerable state. Your breathing was almost back to normal, feeling some comfort from his words. 

“Can you do this?” He asked, repeating his question from earlier. 

Despite growing up together all these years, you and Jungkook had never been this up close and personal. Even when paired up for ballroom dancing, the two of you danced awkwardly together, barely touching his fingertips. It felt unreal that you and Jungkook were now alone, staring at each other, ignoring the rest of the world around you. “Yes.” 

Jungkook stared at you for another two seconds before he realized the position the two of you were in. His grip became stiff and rigid for a moment before he finally removed his hands from your face and cleared his throat, pretending as if he wasn’t trying to protect you in his arms. 

“Thanks.” You coughed awkwardly, still standing in front of him. The two of you never shared an intense moment like that before, a moment filled with insecurity, vulnerability, and comfort. 

Jungkook sighed and looked back at you. Without any verbal confirmation, you knew that he silently agreed that everything would go back to normal, that the two of you would go back to pushing each other’s buttons. “I should get going.”

Before you could say anything, Jungkook started to walk away. He was probably already erasing the moment out of his head. 

You had to remind yourself that the two of you will wed for your countries, that it won’t be for true love or happily ever after. It'll be a marriage full of moments like these that will mean nothing to him. And you hoped they would mean nothing to you. 

__________

By the next morning, Luxuria went through with their warning and sent their troops to your border, threatening your people. 

“Once we received word this morning from your mother, we sent supplies to your troops.” You had barged into the room of affairs, surprising Jungkook and the Queen by your sudden appearance. “They will be there as soon as they can. We sent our fastest rider.” 

The King didn’t take his eyes off the document he was reading. It seemed like the King had expected you to come in urgently while the Queen, sitting next to him, was visibly annoyed with your sudden intrusion. Jungkook, standing to the side of the room, looked baffled, unsure if he should laugh at your courage or be displeased.  

“Thank you,” you said, bowing your head. “These supplies will go a long way, but supplies aren’t the only thing we need.” 

“Let me guess..You want soldiers?” The King asked, still not looking at you. “I am afraid that I cannot give you men, but you have my deepest sympathy.” 

“I am asking for more than sympathy. I need men, or else these supplies are useless.” 

“The men that you need are the same men that we cannot give you.” He finally looked up and shrugged his shoulders. 

“As Queen, I have the responsibility to find solutions, and that was through our alliance with your country, which you are not honoring.” 

“Keep in mind that you are not the only one with a country to think about,” the King replied. “I am putting my country and its people first.” 

“I will not forget this when I am both Queen of Caelestia and Aurum,” you challenged. “I will always put my country first. Do not hold me hostage and fulfill this alliance, or let me go.” 

“The two of you need to learn this.” The King paused to point at you and Jungkook. “You are royals. You DO NOT have the luxury of doing what you want. You do what is best for your country. Perhaps, the two of you should stop wasting time. Instead of trying to think of ways to get out of your marriage, start taking action.” 

“Father, I think we should help.” You took a quick look at Jungkook, surprised by his answer. “If Caelestia loses, that’ll only make Luxuria a bigger threat to our country.” 

“Get out. The two of you, out now,” the King firmly demanded. 

The sound of the doors slamming behind you echoed throughout the whole castle. You took a deep breath and started walking to your chambers until Jungkook caught up, walking next to you. 

“Hey, I think you’re right. I am on your side.”

“You are?” You were taken back from his statement, not expecting him to be on your side for politics. “Why?”

“Because after your country, mine will be next,” Jungkook explained. “By working together, we can slowly defeat the Luxurian military. I just need some time to convince my father.”

Caught up in a moment of joy, you wrapped your arms around Jungkook, pulling him into a tight hug. Your happiness must have overcome the supposed feelings of animosity you had towards him. “Thank you!” 

Jungkook hesitantly and slowly embraced you back.

__________

“This must be the day pigs are going to grow wings and fly,” Lady Adoree exaggerated. 

Ladies-in-waiting were the Queen’s female companions, typically wealthy noblewomen. They accompanied you, staying by your side for most events. Not only were they your attendants, but they were also your closest friends. And you were the closest to Lady Adoree. 

“Trust me, you’re not the only one who’s surprised by all of this,” you mumbled under your breath.  

“I’ve been gone for seven days, and somehow, you and Jungkook are engaged to each other.” She had traveled to Aureus, the capital of Aurum, for the last week to meet with her a suitor, which did not end up well.  “Then, he’s willingly trying to help you as if he didn’t try to sabotage this alliance or even your whole life here.”

“Excuse me, Lady Adoree.” The two of you were still at the dining table after finishing lunch, catching up. You looked up and saw Prince Dasher waiting behind Lady Adoree’s chair. “Can I please have a moment with your queen?”

“Prince Dasher,” you greeted as Lady Adoree stood up from her chair, allowing Dasher to take her seat. “I thought you were on your way home.” 

“Well, it turns out we still have more negotiations with Aurum to discuss, which is delaying our departure,” he said. “It is not a total disaster as I am blessed to spend another second with a beautiful queen.” 

“Are these sweet words repeated to every other queen?” You quipped. 

“Just you,” he claimed. “No one else can hear those words from me.”

In the corner of your eye, you could see a vein popping out of Lady Adoree’s forehead. She was frowning, not happy that she had given up her seat just for him to be flirty. Lady Adoree hated talking to guys and drove them away just as much as you did. 

“I’m not new to this game,” you reminded him. “What is desired from me?” 

Prince Dasher leaned into your ear, whispering, “I heard Prince Jungkook cannot give you the help you need for the Luxuria Troops.” 

You pressed your lips together, trying to dull up any emotions on your face. “I’m still not hearing what you want from me.” 

Instead of verbally answering, Prince Dasher cleared his throat and pushed his chair back, almost hitting Lady Adoree. He then kneeled on his right knee, causing Lady Adoree to gasp loudly.

“What are you doing?!” You growled. “Get up.” 

“My desire is you,” he said. “Now I am no longer the King’s Bastard and am finally the legitimate Prince of Cometes. I am here to seek out the best deal and I believe Caelestia is that.” 

“To my knowledge, everyone including yourself knows that I am already betrothed!” You looked around, hoping no one else was in the room witnessing this act. 

“I can give you the men you need to fight Luxuria,” he promised. 

You sighed. “My attention is yours.”

He beamed at your defeat. “Perhaps the dissolution of your alliance with Aurum will help your country, Queen Y/N.”

Your jaw clenched. “And if we were to wed, do you really think Luxuria will just stop?” 

“I think you’ve forgotten,” he stressed. “Luxuria and Cometes have been allies for centuries. I hope you consider this offer.”

__________

Jungkook stayed silent. 

It was after midnight, and the two of you met in a private room on the other side of the castle, away from everyone else. No one really came to this side of the castle. It was mainly used to have secret meetings, not wanting to be seen by anyone else.

You were pacing around the room, playing with your hands, anxious to hear his thoughts after telling him Prince Dasher’s offer as he sat down on the bench and had his chin resting on his cupped hands together. 

“Are you going to say something?” You stopped walking back and forth and came to a stop. “What are you thinking about?”

He sighed before standing back up to face you. “I-I think you should do it.” 

“What?” Your heart sank, pain settling in your chest. Despite being the Queen of Caelestia, you viewed Aurum as if it were your home to you. Even though you had no intention of ruling Aurum and this alliance came out of nowhere, you felt a sense of happiness that you could finally give back to the country that gave you everything. 

Aurum was a part of you whether you liked it or not, and with Jungkook’s answer, it seemed like Aurum didn’t want you. And that he didn’t want you. There were a bunch of conflicting emotions going through your mind, but you pushed them away, needing to think about your country. “Are you serious?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Think about it, Y/N. How could you pass this up?” 

“What happened to being on my side?!” You exclaimed. “And you’re just going to let it go? Just like that.”

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, quickly taking your hands and holding them. “But there’s nothing I can do to change my father’s mind…to help your country. I’ve tried and tried. We are just in this alliance, and you are getting nothing..”

“You don’t want to marry me,” you said bitterly, letting go of his hold. “That’s the real reason, isn’t it?”. 

“It’s not that,” Jungkook denied. There was a sense of desperation in his voice. “Believe me, I know I’ve been trying to get out of this alliance. But I’m not telling you to do it because of that. I’m telling you to do this, because this is what is best for your country.”

“Is that really it?” 

“You’ve been Queen your whole life. You should have known that alliances can easily shift,” Jungkook quickly snapped, changing his demeanor suddenly. “Your country gets the help it needs, and my country will not be ruled by an Ice Queen.” 

And Jungkook walked away like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. 

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[hargrove-mayfields]

Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 3- special interests

My prompt: Harringrove- Shared Special Interest

-•-•-•-

One month. Billy and Steve have been living together for one month.

In that time they’ve discovered a lot about each other, things they never expected. Things like Steve hanging his jackets and sweaters in rainbow order in the closet, or Billy placing the cups in diagonal lines in the cabinet.

Only one thing had caused a disagreement, and that was about furniture covers. Billy’s ocd wanted them to avoid touching “sofa stank ass,” but Steve’s autism hated the texture of sitting on fabric on top of fabric.

Their solution was two separate chairs instead of one couch. Close enough to hold hands constantly, but separate enough to enforce their individual boundaries. Sure, it means cuddles are limited to their bed, but Billy’s on bedrest with full body aches and bouts of fibro fog usually once a week, so it works.

However, by far the most exciting tidbit they’d discovered was that they share a special interest. Games.

Video games, board games, sports- they’ve both explored the history, researched the best strategies, and played thousands upon thousands of games. DND had brought them together through mutual friendship with Eddie, while Super Mario kept their relationship on its toes.

Tonight, their choice was a little unconventional for them, a big dusty box fished from the very back of the closet. An inherited, smoke stained edition of Scrabble. If either of them and their dyslexia had realized that making a goal to play every game in the house would mean playing a spelling game, they might not have made that promise.

But, Steve already was dead set on doing it, and his dedication was not to be messed with. They were going to play that game, no matter how long it took.

Currently almost two hours and half a bag of letter chips in, it’s Steve’s turn again.

“Uhhh, I’ll spell… sunset! S-U-N.. S-E-T.”

Every chip is placed carefully, and they both double check it with the help of their Scrabble approved dictionary. At first, he’d placed them in the wrong spot, connected to a D instead of the S on the end that he meant to use, but they fixed it quickly instead of dwelling on the mistake. Billy knows Steve might cry of embarrassment if they keep the focus on his mistake for too long.

But now it’s time for Billy to have yet another go, as Steve reminds him in case he forgot again, “Your turn, Bubs! Got anything good?”

“Honestly? I have no ideas. These letters suck.” Billy grumbles, pushing the small tray that holds the letter chips away.

“You can look it up.” Steve suggests, the only way they ever agreed to go along with this game being shortcuts and technical cheats.

But Billy shakes his head, in deep concentration, “No. No, I wanna do it on my own.”

Steve gives an encouraging smile, “Take your time. I’m watching the TV over your shoulder.”

Something about the way Billy snorts says he doesn’t see that as encouragement, but instead sounds hurt, “I’m that boring, huh?”

Regretting the way he’d put it so bluntly, Steve makes sure to promise kindly, “Nope! I just like the game shows!”

It’s true too. He likes learning new words in a way that doesn’t make his brain feel like it’s on fire. And watching other people fail and struggle, even the best of the best, makes him feel a lot better about playing mostly two or three lettered words in this here game of Scrabble.

Billy’s shoulders relax with ease, satisfied that Steve isn’t annoyed with him. He does, however, quip sarcastically, “We’re so old.”

“Thirty isn’t old.” Steve hums, actually happy to be growing older instead of being trapped in the misery of his teens forever.

Growing up meant growing out of his intense self-deprecation, after leaving behind all the pain and the tragedy he’d gone through. Now in California, playing board games with the love of his life, nothing else matters.

Billy clarifies his meaning, showing to Steve that he feels the same way, and was just using an expression, “I’m not talking about literally, baby. And stop rounding up, I’m only 26.”

It’s lighthearted and they both smile, but something keeps nagging in Steve’s head. One of those old fears of his rising up despite his insistence that they don’t bother him anymore.

“We can do young people stuff.” He offers, sounding kind of upset though he doesn’t mean to let it show, “I mean, I just thought this was fun...”

Even though they’ve got a game set up, Billy leans over the small table on his elbows, and holds Steve’s hands, “Stevie. It’s great. I love these slow days with you. They make me happier than anything. I was just kidding.”

Instant relief floods Steve’s nervously twisted stomach, but just in case he asks, “You’re sure? ‘Cause we can do something else.”

It’s his fault they’re doing this. He said it would be okay. Fun even. He said they can do anything they want.

“I want to keep playing.” Billy promises, and then a real pleased look crosses his face, “I just thought of a word even.”

“What is it?” Steve brightens up immediately, leaning forward in interest.

Billy uses an ‘O’ chip already on the board to spell- “Love.”

Picking up from the look on Billy’s face, it’s not a coincidence that he’s taken to flirting through a board game. Steve blushes like they haven’t already been together for eight years. These slow times between them can be relaxing, but they’re usually days where they check in on their romance too. Rekindling the passion over a goddamn spelling game, that should, by all means, have caused Steve to panic ages ago.

It’s sweet, and it only gets better.

An adjacent ‘S’ in line with Billy’s ‘O’ and an ‘M’ further down the board makes it so Steve can spell the biggest word he’s ever played in this game, “Oh! I can use that to spell Soulmate!!”

“You got that right. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” Billy says all suavely. Steve’s literally giggling and kicking his feet, only to be shown once again through the next move just how much of a romantic Billy is.

“Matter of fact, I can use that new M to spell- Marry.”

For a moment, Steve just stares.

He’s not sure if it’s genuine or just a strategy, until Billy produces a tiny box from his pocket. It’s wooden, looks hand carved. Inside is a ring with a small ruby in a heart shape attached to a band, one he recognizes as being Billy’s mothers.

“Billy-“ He chokes. The words he’d been doing so good at freeze up. He’s used his brain so much today and now it’s failing him?

Billy is patient though, leaving the box propped open on the table so he doesn’t have to hold it and lock his wrist up, “Stevie.”

Steve swallows down his nerves as best he can, and starts to ask, “Are you..?”

“I am.” Billy finishes for him, so Steve doesn’t get too frustrated. It’s then that he starts to look nervous too. He chews his lip, a stim Steve recognizes as being an anxious one. Like he’s done something wrong by asking for something so big, “Do you want to?”

But this, this couldn’t be more perfect. A proposal through their shared special interest, a lifelong passion channeled into their love. Of course Steve wants that too. Really, he’s wanted it ever since they were teenagers, but now that they’re in their twenties, they’re finally ready for that dream to become a reality.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

~~~~~~

For todays disability organization spotlight, let’s talk about the National Fibromyalgia Association.

The NFA is a site which provides health information and resources about Fibromyalgia, a condition that is under researched and often disregarded by medical professionals as not even existing.

The information on their site ranges from self care guides, science explaining chronic pain, COVID precautions for our disorder, medication and treatment suggestions, and emotional assistance for fibromyalgia patients, among other things.

Run by doctors and fibromyalgia patients alike, the websites main goal is to spread awareness and make research accessible for everyone. When I finally received my diagnosis, I spent a lot of time here learning about little things I could do for myself to manage my symptoms. Now I use mobility aids and am in physical therapy, and my symptoms are much more managed than before.

Because fibromyalgia is such a disregarded disability, so are our foundations. The NFA is currently asking for donations, either direct monetary donations or through buying their merchandise in the online shop.

If you would like to learn more about this organization or access their information guides, you can click here to visit the site.

#disabledbillyandsteveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #billy x steve #autistic billy hargrove #autistic steve harrington #dyslexic billy hargrove #dyslexic steve harrington #billy Hargrove has fibromyalgia #my writing #ej writer

[mariacallous]

With the benefit of long memories, we can confidently say that never in the history of the Palestinian-Israeli tragedy has the situation been as dire or perilous as it is today. But never has there been greater clarity about the essential components of a future peace settlement.

What sets apart the recent atrocious events—the horrific Hamas attack on Israel that killed over 1,100 people and the ongoing, belligerent Israeli response on Gaza, which has killed over 25,000 Palestinians—is that they have reopened deep wounds for both peoples: for Israeli Jews of the Holocaust; for Palestinians the Nakba, or “catastrophe.” Both peoples are in psychological turmoil, and emotions are exceptionally raw.

When the cannons eventually fall silent, the reckonings will begin. Hamas is currently enjoying a spell of popularity among traumatized Palestinians, but will it ever be forgiven for the death and destruction it recklessly—and almost certainly knowingly—provoked? Caught woefully off-guard on Oct. 7, 2023, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu may have the country behind him in pursuit of Hamas, but for how long will he be able to stay the course once a semblance of normality is restored?

Sooner or later, after decades of suffocating Israeli occupation, there was bound to be a seismic explosion, but not necessarily in the form it took. Hamas could have chosen instead to emulate the largely nonviolent border protests it had itself orchestrated some five years earlier, but to greater effect this time in light of its resourceful thwarting of Israel’s electronic surveillance barriers. Had they come unarmed in their thousands to explain and not to kill, Palestinians’ pleas for freedom and equality could instantly have been broadcast across the land and further afield and could have had a profound impact on the political climate in Israel and fostered new political currents.

By choosing a violent path instead, Hamas instantly nullified its long-term strategic goal to be accepted by world governments as a legitimate interlocutor in any discussions about the future. While the group might claim some tactical benefits, Oct. 7 will be seen as a massive act of self-sabotage when the dust settles.

In its vindictive reflex response, the Israeli war cabinet likewise abandoned the strategy that had been pursued for years of bolstering Hamas’s rule in Gaza to forestall the prospect of a Palestinian state on the West Bank and Gaza under a unified leadership. The new aim—to destroy every vestige of Hamas—was not the outcome of rigorous strategic thinking but a spontaneous lashing out by the supposed guardians of Israel’s security.

The new goal is not just ill-thought-out. It is also unattainable, although it is not beyond Israel’s leaders to keep moving the goal posts to enable them at some point to declare victory. Rather than destroying Hamas, the relentless battering of Gaza and its entrapped inhabitants is more likely to act as a recruiting sergeant for the organization. This, in turn, is Israel’s own act of self-sabotage.

Israel also had choices. In the light of the new era in which the state had acquired official relations with a growing number of Arab countries, a robust, inclusive, regional response could potentially have been swiftly devised. The outcome would almost certainly have been less destructive and more effective than Israel’s unilateral military response. It might have avoided the deaths of thousands and led to the release of the Israeli and foreign hostages captured by Hamas on Oct. 7.

For all this, the prospects of a new peace process emerging from the ashes of the present wretchedness may, ironically, have been enhanced by recent events, for two main reasons.

First, the common fallacy that the Palestinians are a defeated people and that the Palestinian issue could be sidelined has been exposed as the nonsense it always has been. Second, the related illusion that the conflict could be managed or contained has been shattered. It cannot be. It has to be resolved, for otherwise there will be more explosions with the resulting toxins continuing to overflow into the rest of the world. There is no way of resolving this conflict without Israel fully ending its decades-old occupation of the West Bank and the siege of Gaza, so that the Palestinians may be free to exercise their self-determination and live in freedom and dignity.

Since the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, every seismic explosion of violence related to the conflict has sparked moves toward peace, even if, in some cases, they ultimately failed to reach fruition: The 1967 war itself prompted a steady evolution in Palestinian attitudes toward accepting a Palestinian state alongside Israel instead of in place of Israel; the 1973 war led to the Egypt-Israel peace treaty six years later; the First Intifada in 1987 culminated in the Oslo Accords in the 1990s, which, at the time, were widely believed to herald a new era of peace based on two states; and the Second Intifada in 2000 triggered the 2002 Arab Peace Initiative, with its offer to Israel of full recognition by all 22 members of the Arab League, in exchange for Palestinian statehood on the West Bank and Gaza, with East Jerusalem as its capital.

As for the future, the wheel need not be reinvented. Peace between sovereign states can only be achieved through a cooperative relationship between the Arabian Peninsula and the Levant. This is the only course of action to end the current nightmare of violence and brutality.

All the vital ingredients for such a settlement and peace in the Middle East were set out in the aforementioned Arab Peace Initiative, which has also been endorsed by the Organization of Islamic Cooperation. It urgently needs to be revived—and revised if warranted—and energetically promoted from within the region to the Israeli and Palestinian people who, in the wake of Oct. 7, both need credible assurances of their safety, security, and acceptance in the region that—in the end—is their home.

[writingonesdreams]

What I learned from Top Gun: Maverick

Use all the seeds you plant. This is simple and brilliant. Story doesn't waste time with unneeded info and people feel smart for recognizing it.

This movie is very tropey. But you know what? Those tropes aren't popular for nothing. People loved them and people will always love them, when they are done well.

Sequels that parallel the previous part, but also make it their own story are top tier.

Rivals to friends just always melts the heart. Yes, they compete and disrespect each other for their differences, but they also respect each other more than anyone for their abilities - who can understand better what you do than the one competing for your spot? But then, coming to the rescue, when it counts...yes.

Don't explain everything. This is the annoying part of info dumps. People enjoy a little mystery, putting puzzle pieces together. Don't spell it out. From the way they greet each other we know they know each other. She is angry with him. What did he do? When he is leaving through the window at halfpoint, he promises he will never abandon her again - there you have your reason.

Seeing badass characters do badass things just doesn't get old. Don't hesitate to make them the best of the best. Who cares it's unrealistic? It's cool! They are winning! They are easy on the eyes! What's not fun about it?

Character drama mixed with stunning action scenes is amazing. Especially when those action scenes cause or propelled the character drama.

Let people have history together. No, we don't have to know about every first meeting of every character. We want to know what's broken, what's not working, what could work, not how it started.

Sometimes there isn't a deep reason why someone is mean. People are like jackals, sniffing out weakness and rubbing it in. You have to learn to stand up for yourself. Characters who don't let themselves get embarrassed, cause they decide what's embarrassing are cool.

The tension expressed through one character only reacting when the other calls them by their title/last name instead of first name or nickname. Ouch. Such incredible distance showed in one word.

Have many finals. One, where the thing that the whole story was preparing for happens. Second, where the worst thing that everyone was preparing for happens. Third, the tragedy that could happen from it is averted at the last seconf. Fourth, it gets ever harder than anyone was prepared for. Fifth, there is a final fight of a caliber everyone was warning you about and you win...and then you almost die, but the guy who never helps comes back and saves you. All seeds sown.

Everything explained beautifully, logically, visually so you can keep up even when you are new. Make it hard so the world/field is immersive, but make it understandable. Go through the trouble to make it clear.

Showing everyone's reactions to show how dangerous something is = great strategy.

Don’t let that thing everyone is dying to happen, happen at the first opportunity. Deny it. Make them wait for it and fear they will never get it. It’s intensely satisfying to get it at the end (I’m talking about reconcilitations, well-deserved hugs, kisses). 

Beginning and end should parallel each other. The start pulls you in, shows you how it was before and the end shows you where it is after the development, after the journey. He doesn’t sit alone in his garage anymore, relationships repaired, love returned etc. 

#writeblr #writing advice #top gun maverick #top gun #story analysis #learning from stories #dreamywritesstuff #writers on tumblr

[newdayslinguine]

No because ok

C! Technoblade:

- immortal

- skilled in war (ESPECIALLY strategy)

- very busy (stockpiling weapons, organising the syndicate stuff, etc)

- has vast knowledge of ancient greece

He was definitely an immortal being (possibly part god i mean zeus would probably fuck a pig if not him it would be ares who is techno’s father)

Like how would someone that busy know as much as he does canonically about ancient greek mythology

Also is inhumanly good in combat

#almost spelled strategy as tragedy #technoblade #c!techno #dream smp #im just saying #also artzyy i hope you see this bc can you imagine pjo au

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.28}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

It was the middle of March when a simple trip to Hogsmeade turned into the beginning of the very end.

Robin had let Cas and Jorien talk her into coming along to town this Hogsmeade Saturday, and she had used the opportunity to sell another batch of rare ingredients in the small dingy shop she had actually come to appreciate for just that at this point. After dropping the girls off at Honeydukes, she'd gone on to the potions shop by herself, scared the shop owner beyond reason yet again just for her own amusement, and left a little while later with an even larger sum of galleons in her bag than the previous time she had been there. Really, it was incredible for just how much some of the stuff she possessed sold even around here. Thus, content and smiling to herself for the well accomplished mission, she made her slow way back from the shady part of the village to where she was supposed to meet the girls on high street in twenty minutes. Hopefully time would pass quickly… it was terribly cold outside, even for March, and Robin couldn't wait for a nice hot cup of coffee in whatever cafe the girls would surely drag her into next.

When she crossed from one mud covered street into an even narrower alley of much the same sodden ground, her smile was wiped off her face however, in the very instant a repelling spell hit her square in the chest and sent her flying backwards into the half frozen dirt of the larger road before she even had the time to register what was happening to her. Suddenly void of every air in her lungs, Robin gasped, then yelped when her back hit the hard ground and unruly stone, sending a hot searing pain up her spine that made her eyes water. Adrenaline rushed into her veins, as flooring as it was exhilarating, and while her mind was spinning as it tried to grasp for a sense of what was happening, she already had her wand in her hand only for it to be knocked straight out of there again by an Expelliarmus spoken by a very much familiar voice. Oh no…

"A path of shadows isn't a good place for my little songbird to dwell in… It isn't safe out here. The cats might come to prey on you." Damion Morgan sighed exaggeratedly, while he picked Robin's wand off the ground before she ever had the chance to reach for it. "Get up now dear, before you become as sodden as the ground."

Robin's mind spun in hazy circles of panic as she scrambled to her feet without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. Really, it was her bad luck that it was his turn to supervise this particular Hogsmeade weekend. And away from the school, away from anyone who would witness the incident, she was as good as doomed alone with him in this bloody back alley. For a second, her mind sped through her options. Apparating away? No, not without her wand. Wandless magic, perhaps? In the matter of a few seconds she tried every defensive spell she knew she could do without her wand, running a string of words through her mind with as much focus as she could fathom, but they all proved ineffective against the smug man in front of her. Fuck… he certainly wouldn't make it as easy for her as the last few times, he had already shown her glimpses of that back on new year's. Perhaps he wasn't quite as untalented in the dark arts as she had always tried to convince herself of.

"You needn't try, darling. After the little stunt you pulled on me on the night of the welcoming feast, I have seen to it that my own resistance to your admirable spellwork was fit to counter. And after years of studying you in my class, I know just what spells you have up your sleeve." He told her just in that moment with a disgustingly sweet smile. Dropping his arm with his wand to his side then, he took a step closer to Robin to be right in front of her now. "I had so hoped we could do this in another way. I had hoped it would never have to come this far, if only you had chosen me as I have chosen you. Now, all there is left for either of us is pain."

"Indeed." Robin replied in a breathless huff, and while she didn't understand a single thing of what he was saying with his many words, she knew that she wouldn't get a better chance than this. Without wasting any time overthinking for once, she curled her hand into a fist and punched Morgan straight in the face as strongly as she could. Magic was nice and all, but sometimes the muggle way to do things did work just as well. The blazing pain, the sting and burn that spread from her knuckles up into her entire arm in an instant was well worth it as she discovered, for Morgan dropped both Robin's wand and his own when he instinctively clutched his hands to his hurting face.

What followed then definitely followed too fast. Robin went to claw for her wand immediately, but so did Morgan with his own. Both reached theirs in a striking simultaneity, and in the very same they directed at each other their respectively chosen spells. It wasn't a matter of thought, of conscious action or strategy, but rather an adrenaline driven instinctive defense that made Robin send yet another stunning spell at Morgan. And it seemed no less instinctive for him to send a curse to her in return. Both spells hit their target, both too quick and intricate to deflect. Morgan once more landed on his behind in the offgoing alley, groaning but unfortunately still very much in consciousness. Robin on the other hand let out a bone chilling scream, then crippled into a heap on the very ground she had stood upon, ridden by such a sudden explosion of pain in every cell of her body that it replaced both sense of self and thought. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't move… Her wand lay only inches from her hand, but she found the distance impossible to cross, impossible to think of fighting back at all. All she could do was to keep her eyes wide open as she lay curled up on her side in repeated shivers of pain that drowned out even the cold around her, beneath her, and to watch how Morgan came approaching her once again. His wand raised and pointed at her with a sneer on his face.

"You will have to be better than that, my dear…" He sighed in a raspy voice, then finally crouched down right in front of her and almost affectionately brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You will never succeed if you do not even try. The time has almost come, I'm afraid, and I can no longer hold it off. Neither can I resist you anymore. Oh, how I wish you just could've been mine."

All Robin could do in return was to whimper, as pathetic as it was, but she had no capacity left within her being to care about anything but the pain that was eating her up from the inside. Only in blurred lines above her in her quaking field of vision, Morgan's face twisted in as much agony as she felt, and yet he wore an expression of the utmost sympathy. Robin suddenly felt sick and terribly exposed, and she turned her face downward in a vain attempt to shield herself from the sight of him. Pressing herself into the mud and stone beneath her even if the rash pebbles cut into her skin like a million shards of cruel fate.

"I could end it right here, you know… I should end it here and in this instant." He spoke again, through a layer of sincere remorse. "But I cannot do it if you do not resist. I… I can't, Robin. Not like this. Please don't make me do it like this."

The pain in her body surged to new heights with every word he said, and she let out a strangled sob, a cry of sheer agony even, and perhaps an equal amount of fear. Every atom of her body was torn apart, stabbed with a million knives over and over again while her soul was split into a state between life and death. So much for fighting back… so much for doing anything to protect herself. There was nothing she could do now. She's had her chance, and she'd waisted it on the mildest repelling spell she knew. A bloody idiot, that she was, and nothing more. Perhaps, for that, she did deserve death after all.

No. She was better than that. Robin couldn't give in, not now, not like this, not ever. She had made a mistake by choosing the wrong spell, yes, but she had to work with the consequences now. She would not give up. Never. She couldn't do that to Snape… after all he had been through in his life, he deserved happiness that lasted longer than bloody two and a half months before the next tragedy came haunting him. So did she. They deserved better, and no bloody Damion Morgan could get in the way of that. With the most miserably shaking hand, she tried reaching for her wand, fingertips brushing against the dark wood after what seemed like eternities of pain. Do it do it do it do it do it… Her instincts begged her to finally make use of one of the thousands of horrible curses she had come across over the years, or even to just apparate away for good. But when her sight fell onto Morgan's highly expectant, almost begging expression, her reason won over the instinct. He wanted her to fight. Wanted her to try running. And she would not play this game by his rules anymore.

With another pained whine, Robin clasped her wand in her hand, holding both tightly pressed against her chest, then she rolled onto her back to look up at Morgan's twisted face above her, and even further up at the blindingly white sky. A new wave of maddening pain, she could hardly breathe. Hardly think.

"You really are quite beautiful, you know… Even now, like this." Morgan sighed sadly while his eyes traced the paths Robin's angry tears had painted on her muddied skin. "And while I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see. I must say though that the earrings are a nice addition. Very… modern."

His words still made no sense to Robin's mind, not now, not when the pain took away most of her thoughts in the first place. But she knew that she wanted him to stop playing with her. Think, idiot, through the bloody haze of pain! She'd done it before, pushing the pain away behind the walls in her mind… just enough to make room for reason. Just to focus, just for a moment.

He expected her to fight, or to run, to act in any way they had been taught in his very own class. Therefore he must be looking out for those spells, ready to stop her, ready to attack in return. He wanted her to resist, to fight back, that much had been clear for a long while now… and if she attacked him like that indeed, she very likely wouldn't survive the backlash he had probably been preparing for months now. At least not in her current state of painforced weakness. A state she had brought upon herself when she had let him put that curse on her. A curse of the kind he could only uphold if he put his entire focus on it. Gods! That was the flaw in his actions she had been looking for.

Still very much trembling, she lifted her hand to point her wand up at the sky, then closed her eyes when Morgan started to smile at her doings. He was still waiting for her to make the move that would finally allow him to murder her after all… but she wouldn't do him that favor. She had learned long ago to follow her reason, not her fight or flight instincts. This had to work, she had to be better. For herself, for Snape, for her friends. A faint Lux Obscurius left her lips in even less than a breath as her eyes flew open again, and a broken second later she could feel the earth beneath her vibrating when black lightnings hit the ground around her like a relentless hailstorm of her own fury.

It was enough. Enough to catch Morgan by surprise, to make him lose touch with his spellwork, his focus on Robin, and when the echo of soundless thunder overtook the air around them, the curse's pain was gone from Robin's mind, pushed out of her body by enough adrenaline that forced her onto her feet in an instant. Her wand gripped tightly in her hand, she pointed it at Morgan who staggered to his feet a second later when sound returned to the world.

He tried throwing another curse at her, but Robin had no problem deflecting it even without a word now that she knew what to expect. He tried again and again, growing in desperation and anger while losing in focus and determination, which made it all the easier for Robin to counter while her body and mind slowly recovered from the horrible pain. Luckily the curse had only been on her for a mere few minutes. She was still hurting now… but more so from her hard landing on the ground and a few scratches than from any kind of magic. So far so good.

"Haven't you learned anything throughout the years?!" Morgan cried out at her after a moment, and the string of spells thrown at Robin stopped for the moment as he caught his breath. "You are supposed to fight me! I'm trying to kill you and you just stand there like it's none of your goddamn business! Defend yourself properly, for heaven's sake!!! Try at least! Please!"

"No." Robin got out more or less calmly, but she knew better than to let his talking distract her again. She had made the mistake of letting him catch her off guard once, of underestimating what he would do to her if he got the chance. She wouldn't do it a second time. Neither would she attack him though, even if she had in past times almost hoped for a situation like this. An opportunity to get rid of him. But now that it was here, right in front of her, she found that she couldn't even curse him. Leave alone kill him, like she had always thought she would want to if it came this far. But she simply couldn't bring herself to do either.

"You are just like her, you know that?!" He yelled across the short distance between them, half in laughter, half in despair. "You're too bloody perfect, too much of everything I need to live. I have never been one for irony, but you, love, you are perhaps fate's cruelest twist of bloody irony in existence!"

Robin didn't respond to that. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway, not when he clearly was having a conversation with someone that wasn't her. Not really, anyway. He was just insane; only a madman talking nonsense who was trying to kill her for fun or his own delusional reasons whenever they met outside of class. That was all there was to it, all there could to be. Deep down however, Robin was starting to doubt just that more and more. He didn't seem insane… only caught up in a different reality than her. She was merely clinging onto her version of things for her own good at this point, and she would continue to do so until there was a more reasonable explanation. But for now, she stayed silent either way.

"You know that I will not stop trying, don't you? I cannot stop!" Morgan went on instead, loudly and unbothered in his desperation as if they weren't still in the middle of Hogsmeade. "And unless you kill me first, there is nothing you can do to change your fate!"

The loud banging of a wooden door to Robin's left suddenly caught both her and Morgan's attention then, as it flew open harshly before a bulky barrel of a man came stomping out with a deep frown on his face. Must be the backdoor to one of the taverns, Robin remembered just then. A truly lucky coincidence.

"What's all that shouting and yelling about now again?! Y'all be scaring my customers away!" The burly man bellowed in an instant, and his small angry eyes scanned Robin at first, then Morgan, and finally both their battered and dirty appearances. His anger turned into weariness in an instant, and he addressed Robin with an almost reluctant gaze and a motion towards Morgan. "Need any help dealing with that fellow?"

"Thank you…" Robin replied with a polite but very much feigned smile, then didn't even take her eyes off the barman while she sent a silent Stupefy at the still distracted Morgan, who registered her sudden attack only way too late. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw how the professor was thrown back and down the road by the spell, then stayed lying on the ground in a motionless heap. Truly unconscious, at long last. And yet, Robin's eyes did not once leave the flabbergasted bar owner who stared at her in return as she went on with her statement after a breath. "But I believe I am just fine."

"I, uh… Sorry, for… for interrupting." The man finally stammered out after a moment of taking in Robin's perfectly feigned calm and Morgan's unconscious body. "I'm just… gonna get back to my bar and leave you to your own business."

"Actually," Robin was quick to stop him from vanishing through the door, as she took a determined step towards him, "I would very much appreciate it if I could shortcut to high street through your… establishment."

… … …

Ten minutes later, Robin had almost reached the shop where she was supposed to meet Cas and Jorien. She'd gotten rid of the mud and water that had clung onto her in chunks before setting foot onto high street, which then had left her only with messy hair, a bleeding scratch over her eyebrow and too many thoughts yet to be dealt with. A look into one of the shop windows confirmed that she still looked quite as terrible as she felt; cold, confused, exhausted and anxious enough to burst. Putting her hair up into a bun and a stasis charm onto the scratch to provisionally keep it from bleeding did a good enough job at fixing the outside flaws, but her mind remained troubled as it could be when she finally went to seek out the girls. She was 10 minutes late anyway, no need to let them wait even longer than that.

But even when she slowly approached their meeting spot, she couldn't quite move past what had just happened. Sure, Morgan had hurt her before, had said things along the same lines of her belonging to him, but this just surpassed it all. She didn't doubt that he truly wanted to kill her, even if her refusal to fight back seemed to have hindered him in that today. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to make such a mistake another time, wouldn't hold back nor let his twisted emotions overcome him. His intention was more than clear at this point; his reasons were not. Because as much as Robin wanted to blame it all on insanity, the things he'd said and done, the sincere desperation and agony displayed on his face when he had begged her to fight back just didn't add up anymore. There was a reason to the things he did, a very much sane one, but it was yet veiled in darkness. He said he would try to end her again… So she would have to find out what the hell was going on before then. Why he had said those weird things that still kept nagging at her mind in the strangest way, ringing some distant bells she couldn't quite put her finger to. Gods, she felt exhausted enough for her hands to shake even beyond the cold… it was a miracle that her legs hadn't given out yet.

"Finally you grace us with your presence, Robin!!! Jorien and I have been freezing to death out here for the last ten minutes!" Cas' relieved and reproachful voice pulled Robin out of her thoughts, but it also made her jump in an instant. Visibly, for once. Great…

"Are you alright?" Jorien asked immediately with a big frown on her face, just when Robin came to stand in front of them. "You look-… There's really no nice way to say it. Tired and battered is the mildest one, probably."

"Oh, you know me… always running into one thing or another." She replied with a sigh and a half smile that was more feigned than sincere. "But yeah, I'm quite exhausted, and way too cold. I'm sorry I made you wait, I was held up and couldn't get away from the situation for the longest time."

"It's fine…" Cas sighed as well, a lot milder in her expression already. "We were late anyway, so we really only waited a couple minutes out here."

That finally brought a sincere smile to Robin's lips, even if a small one. Of course they'd been late as well… they always were. Well, thank Morgan for holding her up long enough to spare her the waiting time. Robin snorted at her own thought, and couldn't quite understand why almost dying was suddenly so amusing. Then again, Snape had always been saying that her humour could be quite morbid at times. He was right, as always. Gods, she just wanted to be back with him already, wrapped up in a tight hug, telling him all about what happened… but he was still stuck with the dunderheads who had earned themselves detention this week, and wouldn't be free until after dinnertime. Which was one of the main reasons why Robin had agreed to go to Hogsmeade today in the first place.

"If you're exhausted, we perhaps better skip the next part of our grandiose plans for the day…" Jorien said, thereby regaining Robin's attention in time for her to see the sheer disappointment on both girls' faces. "It probably was a stupid idea anyway. Let's just go to a cafe instead."

"No, it's alright! Don't worry about me." Robin replied in an instant, when her inability to bear seeing the girls sad got the better of her. Damn her empathy, a cozy cafe sounded nice right now… and whatever plans they had made surely wouldn't be nearly as relaxing. But as much as she annoyed herself by doing so, she couldn't help putting them and their happiness first. "We can do whatever you guys originally planned. It's fine!"

The smiles were back on their faces in an instant, as was the excitement and mischief, and while Robin didn't know what she had just gotten herself into, she was prone to find out when they immediately started dragging her off down the street. Two minutes later, they stepped through the door to one of the surprisingly many clothes shops in the small village, and this one obviously seemed to cater more to the younger generations. That was the only thing Robin could tell from the look around she had immediately upon their entrance. A nervous habit, really, that had only intensified now after getting so stupidly taken by surprise earlier.

"So…" Cas started with a grin while she walked ahead in obvious certainty where she wanted to go. "You know how in a week I'm going home with Simon for the easter holidays, right?"

"You mentioned it a couple million times, yes." Robin sassed in feigned annoyance, but her small smile was a sincere one yet again. How could she forget, when both Cas and Simon had been speaking of little else over the last few days. It was rather adorable, really, how excited both of them were to spend time together outside of school for once, at last, after over a year of dating. Robin had the utmost understanding for that, and for them in general.

"Funny." Cas rolled her eyes at Robin, but then went on while she slalomed around shelves and tables of clothes with the others in tow. "Anyway, I wanted to get some nicer things for the occasion. You know, like some pajamas and underwear and stuff… Everything I have is terribly childish or boring and just meh."

Oh dear… Robin could relate more to that than she wanted to admit, and that level of subtle embarrassment wasn't something she currently wanted to deal with. Nor did she want to discuss these matters with her roommates, even if they seemed to have no reluctance to do so the other way round. To her luck, they at least weren't here because of her. Or so she sincerely hoped.

"To shortcut Cas' elaborations, we picked out some stuff for her, but we couldn't really decide and weren't too sure if it was too much or too little, so we were hoping you could give your usual overly-rational evaluation." Jorien concluded factually, and Robin only nodded her agreement with a silent sigh.

This really was the most horrible timing; she had no room in her mind for insignificant matters like clothing! There was only fear and anxiety and concern… and Morgan's words still nagging at her. 'You are just like her', he'd said. Like who? Did Robin remind him of someone who all of his anger and affection likewise were actually directed at? 'While I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see.'... What the hell was that supposed to mean? Robin always made a conscious effort to avoid Morgan as much as possible, to the extent of almost hiding from him during mealtimes. They only really met in defense classes these days. So he really hardly got to see her indeed… but he looked at her being every day? One of the photos of her that had been in the paper, perhaps? But then he would see her as well, not her being. Ugh, this was just-...

"Earth to Robin!" Cas snapped her fingers in front of Robin's face with raised eyebrows. They were standing in front of a line of changing cubicles now, or rather Jorien and Robin were, while Cas stood in the door of one and moved back towards the mirror inside where she looked at herself. Robin had to frown when her attention returned to the current moment. Cas was still wearing her own clothes, but in the mirror, her reflection wore the piece she was trying to show to her friends.

"Interesting spellwork with the mirrors…" Robin mused before she could help it. "Is that a common thing in clothes shops around here?"

"...yes?!" Cas scoffed incredulously at the –to her– obviously inane question. "You really don't go shopping often enough. The mirrors are charmed to show you what the pieces would look like on you. Then you only have to try on the things you actually like on yourself for the right size. We've done that already, so it's just deciding between the looks now. What do you think?"

With an almost impressed expression, Robin studied both the mirror and Cas' reflection for a moment to actually make an effort at last. Perhaps this wasn't quite as terrible as she'd thought… Sure, it seemed kind of ridiculous to be here shopping now after she'd had to fight for her life half an hour ago. But perhaps that was why it was a good idea after all; a remedy for all the ghosts in her head, the fear and anxiety in her body. It might do her good to get some distance to the events before trying to understand them.

Thus for the next forty minutes Robin did her best to actually focus on the girls and on helping Cas with her shopping. They really had picked some nice things that weren't too over the top, and after Robin had given her commentary and evaluation as well, the selection Cas was left with was well worth their efforts. Robin was almost led to believe that allowing them to drag her here hadn't been quite such a terrible idea as she'd originally thought.

That was until Jorien and Cas were fooled enough by Robin's desperate efforts to push through this endeavor with the very last of her energy and enthusiasm to try to make her try things on as well. And that Robin really didn't have the mindset for today. Being alive was currently a higher priority to her than being well dressed, which the two younger girls of course had no understanding for. They couldn't, really, and Robin wouldn't burden them with it either. Thus she agreed to let them pick whatever while she would patiently stand in front of the mirror to let them gawk at the reflection, as long as she wouldn't have to actually physically change. Or make an effort to show sincere interest in any of the pieces any longer.

For a while the girls picked all kinds of both horrendous and actually quite nice pieces just to giggle and fawn over and Robin simply let them. As long as they were having fun, she couldn't care less if they made her reflection look like a clown or a magazine model. And while her reflection's garments changed from t-shirts to dresses to pajamas to lingerie, she resumed her pondering of Morgan's words and actions as well as her own. Ignoring the outside world as successfully as ever for a good twenty minutes at least.

"How strange…" Cas' half humoured and half confused huff was what pulled Robin back into the reality around her at last, and she followed the girl's line of sight to her underwear-clad reflection. Good gods… she looked like the closest thing to a piece of pastry she'd ever seen. Or an 18th century mistress. Or both.

"What's so strange?" Jorien asked a short moment later, and frowned at Robin's ridiculous reflection as well.

"I haven't really noticed before either, because I was admittedly distracted by the fun pieces of clothing, but it's really quite obvious now." Cas replied and crossed her arms over her chest with an almost smug expression. "Tell me, what do you see?"

Jorien scoffed, then rolled her eyes, but went to answer nonetheless. "Well, I see Robin, looking like an ancient painting of some royal hooker. Don't tell me you see any more than that in the mirror…"

The words sent a surge of immediate anxiety and adrenaline through Robin, and while she thought that it was due to the discomfort upon looking like a tart at first, the impression soon was replaced by the nagging in the back of her mind that picked up stronger than ever. Her mind started spinning too fast, thoughts tumbling over each other in both panic and reason. Gods, she could almost grasp the thought, the words that were haunting her now.

"Well duh…" Cas rolled her eyes, then tapped against the glass on the height of Robin's ribs. "There's no scar, idiots! As far as I remember, Robin has a rather visible scar on her rib cage, while the reflection doesn't. Isn't that odd? As if the reflection isn't even you."

A wall inside Robin's mind collapsed in that instant, and buried her under the impossible weight of its ashes. Its implications. She could hardly breathe. Paintings… Reflections… Scars… Earrings. A wild rush of adrenaline. Panic. She felt sick as soon as she finally understood.

"Robin, are you alright? You look terrible again… Did we say something wrong?" Jorien inquired instead of reacting to Cas' explanation, and half a second later both girls were gazing at her in concern. Robin had no capacity left to care that she worried them. She had no capacity for anything outside of her own mind.

"I need to get back to the castle. Now." She said in a quiet voice, staring at her own eyes in the mirror for just a moment longer before spinning on her heels and making for the shop's exit. Every cell in her body stood on edge, every emotion locked away behind the thickest walls she could muster up to cope with reality. Right now, she only needed reason, as much of it as she could get. And in a spurt of just that she looked over her shoulder at the two confused girls once more before she reached the door. "I'm sorry, I just remembered something very important that I have forgotten about for far too long. Do go on shopping without me though, and be sure to tell me all about it at dinner, yes?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, she was out of the door and on her way back to the castle. Her lungs hurt, heart racing, head spinning, and her eyes stung terribly from both the wind and unshed tears of raw anxiety. Perhaps it was only the shock of realisation hitting her, or perhaps she was really quite so scared. She didn't know if she hoped to be right or wrong in the unnerving suspicion that had fallen upon her like the darkest of night. Because frankly, either way would end in a nightmare.

______________________________

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[wolfofwinchester]

✶✶ / Your take on the goblins

Send ✶ and I’ll write a headcanon about our muses // oops. sorry for the mini novel and fantasy implementation.

1. Not a solid headcanon, but the idea that these two once stepped out of their time for ten or so years into a faerie realm dawned on me the other day and I really fell in love with it. It was an accident on their part, but it was an incredibly rare blessing from the Morrígan for one of her most devote followers. The idea was while Claudia was blessing the forest clearing behind the manor with her own personal "this is my home, no malevolent force shall trespass to harm" incantation ( Azrael being present because the spook loves to hang with his partner in crime, and Gelert and Lilac because they're almost always with these two ), ravens intervened and twisted the spell. "Home" as in "Manor" shifted, and became the true feeling of "home" that she shared with him. The veil pierced and ripped and the two had their world transition in that disorientating yet familiar way as it does when they cross through faerie rings, but also hauntingly similar to Divine intervention. It was sudden, and neither were prepared for it.

When the world stopped whizzing, they found themselves on a patch gloomed by eventide with a cottage. Eerie similar to their private one, but much different.

Being in the Fae Realm is a dangerous thing, but also incredibly exciting for the right personalities. Wonder, magic. Unreality. Owning property that is God granted by a divine of the Celtic pantheon, encased in a spell where no harmful energies can trespass and encroach upon their peace. But, everything else outside of their property is left in the hands of wild fate. Whatever happens, happens.

Completely divorced from the world they came from, they are suddenly in a new life together. Claudia is no longer aging, and neither are the two constant furry companions. Again, it is a whimsical, confusing and dangerous, but thrilling time. A wild fantasy. Time means nothing here, but it feels like years do pass because they're both still from the mortal world - they feel that subtle sensation that time is passing here in the weirdest, most vague sense. Ten years, at least.

But in the real world, it's only a day or two that's passed. A wink of sleep. How these two wound up back home was the Phantom Queen deciding time was up.

I think it might have been their intent to return one day and relocate their piece of heaven, but of course, canon events transpire that throw a curve ball right into any plans.

2. While few secrets exist between these two, Claudia had absolutely no idea about Ciel's resurrection before the manor reveal, and that's because it was fully intentional on Azrael's part. He had every ounce of confidence he would succeed in bringing the boy back, but after seeing the toll the tragedy took on Claudia, he was not about to risk it by any small percentage. He can count once on both hands how many times he's personally seen his wife weep, and he'd be damned if he'd count himself as an added digit.

Not to mention on Claudia's personal list of taboos, resurrecting the dead is a line that should never be crossed. Her belief is it will always go wrong, and no one ever comes back right. Bringing her grandson back to life is going to be a shock and a horror in more than one way. He knows this about her, and he knows just how hard set in her beliefs she is.

As such, he fully prepared for her reaction once Ciel was brought to the manor, as coolly and as astutely as possible. It was rocky, and he knew it would be, but he did succeed in smoothing the situation enough for her to be as comfortable as she's going to get with his help - the rest is up to her. Azrael's also keeping an eye on how the two interact, watching for signs of disturbed currents that might rock the boat too hard. If they clash, it could equate to a living hell for heart, house and present strategy. He's keeping a good eye on that to keep the water calm. ( the image of ut bouncing back and forth like john mulaney at hitches of tension like: "ok! ok! ok! ok! ok!" )

Here's the thing though, at the end of all that; favor actually weighs in very heavy for the old reaper, and the reason is very simple, but very effective: The fact Azrael is a Shinigami performing necromancy and not a human changes Claudia's perception drastically. He's not a mortal messing with prospects of the deceased, he's a God of Death. That, that right there is the ENORMOUS game changer. If anyone could pull off bringing back the dead, it could be him, could it not?

#(( sorry for the length. if it wasn't clear I think about our goblins like.. a lot..... I present this )) #casketdweller #【 &ship. 】 �� ní féidir le haon uaigh mo chorp a choinneáil síos; fillfidh mé dó. #【 asks. 】 ¦ what all that howlin’s for. #long post #(( a headcanon I like too is that Azzy could be how Claudia finds out in full truth what Sebastian is - no bs. #that's what really ramps her up to help in dividing him and Ciel. +1 party member. ))

[roxilalonde]

ok now things that were excellent about the hunger games:

-katniss’ character arc

-i mean it like katniss is a) a traumatized woman whose b) pain is never glossed over or overlooked, whose grief and coping mechanisms are put at the front and center of the narrative, and whose trauma is absolutely critical part of any coherent reading of the story

-her emotions are treated as legitimate and valid regardless of what causes them. she is allowed to be irrational; she is allowed to be furious. she is allowed to be complicated and illogical and angry at her circumstances in a way that was (and continues to be) revolutionary for a female character in YA fiction

-her only parent is a single mother whose mental illness and grief in the aftermath of her husband’s death has prevented her from taking care of her children, and the consequences of this in terms of how it affects her relationships with her children play out in a realistic and nuanced way

-katniss’ friendship with gale is just that. a friendship. no matter what happens in the later books in the hunger games she and gale are just best buds who shoot stuff in the woods and forage together. their friendship has no strings attached and it was a breath of fresh air while it lasted

-her relationship with peeta is grounded in an interesting conversation about what it means for people in poverty to show solidarity with each other, and what that solidarity can look like, and how even minute acts of kindness can have incredible impacts to those on the receiving end of them. this isn’t even a huge part of the books it’s just nice to see

-peeta never does creepy shit or tries to coerce her or acts entitled to katniss’ love. he’s nice to her. he like, idk, genuinely acts like he likes her? which is wildly rare for a lot of Y/A love interests?? and he’s in love with her but that’s all, he only uses it as a Games strategy on his end, he doesn’t act like a complete ass about it and the fact that i’m as grateful for this narrative decision as i am is pretty depressing but i am nevertheless

-collins pulls zero punches in depicting the horrors and aftermath of the games themselves. she does not fuck about glorifying or romanticizing the ordeal. she makes all but explicit that the hunger games is a scathing critique of television/reality shows/movies and how they’re tied into capitalist structures, to the point where she all but spells out on the page “THE ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY’S MANIPULATION AND ABUSE OF CHILDREN IS IMMORAL AND THE FACT THAT WE HAVE ALL BECOME SO NUMB TO IT IS A VERY VERY BAD THING” 

-katniss’ hyper-awareness of the cameras and where they are at any given point and in any given scene is a very nice use of detail. like she’s constantly noticing lenses, screens, mirrors, basically anything that could be used as a surveillance device, and it really sets a nice atmosphere of paranoia and supervision that both lets us into her headspace and paints a broader picture of the capitol in general

-the capitol in general is also really well done; the sheer lavishness and luxury is depicted in gorgeous detail, and you can almost feel yourself being pulled into the scene -- except collins always holds you back from getting totally absorbed in the facade of the Games, keeping you skillfully positioned at a far enough distance that you can see the horror underneath

-just all the little details about the Games that she included. tesserae. volunteering. the “career tributes.” the mentor system. the stylists. the initial chariot ride. the interviews. the balls. the training. the evaluations. the sponsors. it really does make the Games feel like a real event that a lot of people put a lot of thought into the ritual and ceremony of, horrific content aside.

-and that’s also the point! that you can get so wrapped up in the politicking and emotional dramas surrounding the Games that you forget what they are: an indefinite round of blood sport played out to the death with twenty-four unwilling child participants

-how expertly the gamemakers turn the kids against each other, playing on their fears and insecurities to produce more convincing conflict and rivalries

-how you almost forget that they’re children, except collins won’t let you forget. she keeps reminding you. in death scenes especially there is unique attention paid to noticing how small tributes are, how they look immature, how they’re inexperienced or dumb or make bad decisions, and it all points you again and again to the recurring realization that they’re children. this. is happening. to children.

-the way that the capitol distances itself from the Games by refusing to really confront the reality of death, which read a certain way is a very cutting critique of how western media uses the framing of images and metaphor to distance itself from the tragedies it often uses for content

-basically the hunger games is a nuanced and magnificent text

-literally these books were so fucking good

#fuck the love story i read this and felt like i was 4 layers deep in an expanding brain meme #the hunger games

[mamaaaauwu]

[[Harley saves the day!]]

[[and ascends to godhood in the process. Discord thread with writing i’m proud of. starring @cosmosfated!]]

Kairos

Gaunt, unhealthily thin, as if he hasn't eaten well in months, or has been on a diet of punishment for one reason or another and the people who have captured him are using it against him. His clothes hang on him as if they're hanging off pure determination to keep going rather than anything healthy. And indeed there's a sliver of red in his violet eyes as if he had made a batch of DETERMINATION just for himself in the recent months or so, or perhaps in the recent week.

But here and now, Harley Quinn told him to crack a joke. For some reason. "Hey, you." The cat monster looks at him from the other side of the electricity fueled bars that he's leaning up against and feeling the rush of. "What did the faerie tell the priest in response to religion?" The incredulous look and the response of 'what??' is enough for him.

He has very little enthusiasm to his voice when he speaks this time but it's a pun, he knows his dad overhears it. "Well I'm not FAEthless." That earns him an eyeroll from the cat monster but that's not what he's waiting for.

A flutter of hope in his chest. (Save me, itches a dull prayer in his throat like burning a clove in the fireplace.)

Harley Quinn

Harley wasn't expecting to be changed into a halloween fairy costume covered in glitter, but she's thankful that the tutu dress is at least in her favorite colors.

her baseball bat has 'become' a part of a cross, slid through the bottom of a shotgun. she smiles and bashes the monster across the face before cocking the gun. "The power'a Winchester compels you to open this cage."

Kairos

Kairos smiles from his place on the floor and he can't help but give a two finger salute. "Ello, Mx." Carefully not giving out her name to this captor of his but also granting her the awareness that he hears her coming in.

The cat monster had whipped around just in time to be hit right across the face and honestly it hurts like it had more damage upon it. Wide eyes search for a way out of this and reaches out and instead casts a binding spell on Harley in an attempt to keep her still. No need to get violent just yet.

Harley Quinn

"Hiya hon. Just call me Tinkerbell." she winks before feeling the spell hit.

it travels up her body, even squeezing in like ropes, showing off the gymnast physique. "Oooh, kinky. unfortunately only the Missus 'r the otha Missus are allowed to do that." she may be bound, but she has just enough wiggle room to aim the cross and pull the trigger... into the knee.

"Shit; I was aimin' for ya foot."

Kairos

"Tinkerbell it is." The taste is unique. As a name, as an alias. As a savior. It's different from John. It's different from Clemency. It's different from Emrys. Softer, sweeter, with a hint of ash wood and gunpowder. He's not sure which he prefers. Mx. Quinn or Tinkerbell. He'll decide later.

The monster collapses to one knee with a gasp and a cry of pain, and there's a glare. "I've done nothing to you but bind you! Why are you even here? You're clearly not working for us. I should have you arrested for assault of a high ranking magi!"

There's a snort from Kairos. Yeah ok.

Harley Quinn

she wiggles her shoulder blades to make the wings flutter. "i raised a fae and helped em remember their true power; i know the rules better than my own blood pressure." she looks back down to the monster.

"oh, that ain't about what you did, its about what you didn't do. I gave a clear and simple instruction that you failed t'follow, but i'll give you a lil context as an apology for missin' ya foot." she offers a smile that's far too wide, with the wrong kind of teeth for a humanoid mouth.

"Numba one; the only person i work for is me. Numba two; tryin' to have me arrested will result in nothin' but a pile'a magi corpses for some poor bastard to clean up. Numba three, you are gonna drop this chintzy little spell and open the cage like a good kitty, or there ain't gonna be enough of you left to put inta a pet sematery." she cocks the shotgun, as a final warning.

Kairos

Kairos is slow to stand as if he's struggling with the weight of gravity. Or as if something is physically weighing down on top of him. He's almost tempted to wheeze out a name, use his last spell, his very last spell to call upon his dad, so that he can get extra help, but he's not sure how Tinkerbell would take that. So he just stands and grips the bars for a moment before releasing them again. Too much skin to the bars. Ow.

The cat monster hisses for a moment before taking a breath and hobbling to a stand, taking out a ring of keys and going to a rather unassuming one in the ring of pretty and decorated ones that look like they match other doors and unlocking the door. "There. Happy?" They grumble about needing a healer, or days off, now.

Kairos uses his coat to pull back the bars for the door and step outside. "Oh, hey, can I have that magic to eat?" To which there's a glare so cold it could freeze his soul. "... Nevermind then. Let's go, Tinkerbell. Before people show up from that shotgun blast."

Harley Quinn

She cracks her neck, and the binding magic snaps off, causing her eyes to widen, but no other show of surprise. "no, I'm not at all happy, actually, but i ain't here to play with you neither. pick a god and pray that you don't get put between me an' my goals again." she stops, seemingly listening to something. she purses her lips, considering it deeply. she looks to Kairos.

"If I'm gonna be Tink, that'd make you Peter Pan." she gives him a very serious gaze. it crackles with an energy, a specific one that is nonetheless easy to understand.

"Now answer me somethin, Petey. you and these mage guys, you've been doing this song and dance for a long, long time... your adoptive relative that you mentioned. Does he know about this? That you've been paying for his actions with the very blood and energy of your own body and soul? Does he know this, and still does nothing to protect you?"

Kairos

Within one blink and another, the cat monster disappears, but the sound of limping footsteps are heard running down the hallway. Running, like a coward- or like someone who wants to plot revenge. Whichever comes first.

Kairos however snorts. "Peter Pan? Interesting." But instead of dismissing it entirely he looks at her and considers her words. And then he grows sad at the mention of his adoptive relative. His dad. Why hasn't he told him? It's stupid. Maybe it shows on his face.

"No... He doesn't even know. I haven't told him. He's not... aware. I'm trying to keep this quiet because, well, I thought I could handle this on my own. It's not that he wouldn't be able to help, it's that I don't let him. Maybe I should." He shrugs. "We should get going." He turns and gestures to walk with him but doesnt start walking without her.

Harley Quinn

"i ain't judgin', yanno. that would be a serious breach of psychologist code." she tilts her head.

"but, y'see... i'm feelin'.... i'm feelin' somethin' i never felt before, and if it is what I think it is, then it might change our exit strategy. besides, i've taken out worse than that with one hand behind my back." she gazes down at herself, briefly.

"it's that kinda thing that you can't just shrug off and keep walking... y'gotta stop and give it a proper think through, you know?"

Kairos

"I don't want to bother him with this." He says very quietly. "I can't bring this up to him." He sounds almost... Scared? Like a puppy that's been kicked one too many times. But then he returns to that strong and haughty facade that he presents and grins. "Plus, I have one more spell that they haven't wrested from my clutches and I can use it right now to make sure that nothing stands in our way as we leave. Clean escape! No one gets hurt, and we're free to go! Everybody's happy!" Most of all, he can clean himself up before his folks find out about this little excursion.

"What good is thinking about it going to do anyway? It already happened. We're already here." He kicks at the ground. He wants to go. "I just want to get something to eat. And I know where their stash is and I can grab some before they even know. Easy pickings."

Harley Quinn

"You don't get what i'm sayin' here, Petey." the energy gets stronger, filling the room. its that smile you wear singing along to a song about hunting down a cheating lover, its that tickle you get when you see someone who did you dirty meet with karma, and have karma chew their face off. its the laughter you can't control when some blowhard gets his ass handed to him on a silver platter. its the comedy in others' well earned tragedy.

"what i'm saying is... well... i think you oughta let me take point... maybe stand a few feet back, even." she strides with her two weapons in hand, a murder walk. "lets see if we can't get you a little snack fer th' road first."

Kairos

The energy is so tantalizing. He can almost taste it. It's delectable and sweet and tastes divine. ... Divine. Godlike. Godlike? He reels and goes wide eyed at her. No. No... He shakes his head.

He takes a few steps back and bows to her, allowing her to pass. "Let's get something done shall we?" He can't wait to see what she'll do. He reaches out and plucks a thread and begins to weave a thread to lead them in the right direction. Like silvery strands that disappear into the light around them. Bringing people to steal from. It wouldn't hurt to eat.

Harley Quinn

"now now, no worship from you, Pete." she turns back and boops him in the nose.

"fae and religion don't mix, remember? you're the one who opened my eyes, and now i'm gonna stretch my wings on your enemies to show my appreciation. we're even-steven, got it?" she giggled as she continued onwards.

"yanno, in hindsight it kinda seems obvious; two people went into that vat'a potions and chemicals... and I'm the one who almost drowned in it! why should he be the only demigod? though that would mean two good things came'a that relationshit-show... naaaaaah i dove in of my own free will, he's got no claim to it." she hums as she inserts the bat back into the shotgun, then gasps in laughter.

"hey, it just occurred to me; ya joke about religion just got a million times funnier!"

Kairos

He listens. And he listens. He's become very good at listening to people talk amongst themselves, to themselves, around themselves, even when they don't think that he's around. He's become one with illusion and shadow as he has with light and day, and it's an interesting dichotomy to watch seeing as his main focus is indeed change and disruption. The wayward force that governs the way the tides of chaos and order change and dance on the wind. So he listens. He won't use this against her. That would be uncouth.

He tugs on a silver string and feels the breath be drawn out of him as they walk, and people skid to a halt in their path, only enough to handle, only enough to have heard the buckshot of a shotgun from down the echoing halls of a prison that is only full of SPECIAL prisoners. And he has to gather his breath again, breathe in, hold, let it out, hold. They'd not see him weak. This would make him strong, or so help him. He had to get stronger. He can't just rely on magic his whole life. He WILL get stronger.

The new information is sidebar to him and he hums. The real thing that makes him grin is the comment about his joke. "Didja? I tried really hard on it! I'm glad you liked it, Tinkerbell. Now, leave them at least partially alive for me to be able to eat."

Harley Quinn

the thing about "Tink" is that the whole thing wasn't a soliloquy, but was directed to him. not that she'd quiz him on what she said or anything, but she wasn't talking to anyone but him.... this time anyway.

"Oh no it was a real pissa; i wasn't wearing this before i got here yanno! ya summoned me and gave me a strong gag to work with! now, speakin' of strong gags..." she places the shotgun and bat carefully on the floor with great ceremony.

"here comes a runnin' joke!" she dashes forward and launches into handsprings and flips to get enough momentum to land a neat handstand on a mage in the middle. "Hiya, guys gals an' nonbinary pals!"

Kairos

"Really?" He can't help but laugh. He can't imagine his words summoning someone in such a fanciful get up. It's flashy and eye catching and oh so HIM but that's not suited for this mission. "Maybe I should be a bit more covert next time I summon you." As if this would happen again (and again and again-)

And he then watches her handspring off towards the mages that interrupted.

The magi in the middle squeaks, then growls in indignation and tries to reach up to grab Harley by the forearms and bodily toss her off, seemingly more fit than the last magi she squared up against. It again makes Kairos laugh because Tinkerbell seems far more capable of taking care of herself than these mages do.

Harley Quinn

She grabs the upper arms as they latch onto her forearms, using them as a fulcrum to swing herself down and around to scatter the formation. she lands on her feet and smashes her unwilling helper in the nose with her forehead.

Kairos

The mage stumbles back after being hit in the face and fires off a bolt of fire directly at her, mostly as a deterrent to get her to jump back and away but if she tanks it then she tanks it. This one won't use his big spells on her. He'll just body her as much as possible before being taken down.

Kairos plucks at the silver thread again and the mages behind the main mage lose their footing and fall flat on their ass. Might as well help out some while he can no? Pluck pluck motherfuckers.

Harley Quinn

she leap frogs right over the blast and does another hand spring to drive her heels right into the mage's chin.

"Order up, Petey! bon appetit! unless you like em more tenderized than this."

Kairos

The mage collapses back onto his ass and grunts, rubbing his lower spine for only a moment before going to get up. Kairos is there in a split second however and he smiles sweetly, hand on his shoulder, knelt down next to him. "At least you get something good out of this, aye?"

And with a placing of his free hand on the chest over the mage's heart, the mage's eyes widen before they roll back into his eyes, almost instantly unconscious. Lips curl back to show off his teeth, into a maddened grin, wanting so badly to EAT.

But then he hears the screams of the mages only ten feet away - 'star eater is going on a frenzy' this and 'the hu-ka'li is out of containment' that - and he it centers him. Can't let himself get carried away. He's not his ancestors.

Harley Quinn

"oh his frenzy is the least of your problems. LEMME DEMONSTRATE." she launched onto one of the loud mouths, her face elongating into a snout as she bends down. hyena jaws clamp down on the arm and rip it clean from the socket, crunching the bone in two. she looks back at Kairos with a blood soaked smile.

"take your time and eat your fill. just don't make yourself sick, okay?"

Kairos

Now the screams are more centered on Harley's actions than the fact that Kairos is out of his cell and feeding himself. But that's no matter. They'll cause chaos for themselves in due time.

Kairos chuckles at the blood, but it sounds weary, as if he's slightly discomforted by the sight of it. (Calm down. You expected this. The multiverse is bloody and cold and callous and heartless. Not every place is the way you built your world.) "The only thing that would happen like that is that I would get drunk and then I would actually go on a feeding frenzy and well, we need to try and avoid that." He says as he walks up to the one without an arm who is trying to get away from them both against the wall and just knocks him out via taking some energy from him. Not much but enough to put him out of his misery. Mages are too proud here to admit that they need help. "I'm more surprised you're not asking more questions." He says, something dark and strange dripping from his mouth and teeth like something viscous and heavy.

Harley Quinn

"ain't here to ask questions and pry into your business, Petey." she stands, licking her lips.

"i'm here to bust you out and bust some heads; you're no longer theirs to starve and cage and squeeze for information without so much as a thank you. you're under my protection, and my vengeance is swift, without mercy, and without consideration for their way of doing things." she rattles this off with such a matter of fact tone, as though it should've been obvious from the moment she appeared.

"if you can think of a better way for me to communicate this than what i'm doing, i'm all ears." her ears go from human to hyena, though whether this was a conscious act of punctuation, or the result of her pun, is impossible to distinguish.

Kairos

His gaze goes glassy eyed, distant for a little while as she talks. He registers what she's saying, but he doesn't understand. How could he? Someone not wanting to understand what he is to the point that they go mad with the hope that they can discover something new? Someone not wanting to cut him open and discover what makes him push and pull like a frog on the experiment table in high school biology? He doesn't get it.

But with a thought of his own - You're trying to escape. Don't let lies distract you. - he snaps to focus and he smiles. "Of course, Tinkerbell. That sounds reasonable for you." And for her, perhaps it does.

"But as for a better way of doing things..." He reaches out into thin air and takes out a thick spool of nearly translucent thread that glows with heavenly light. He hands it out to her. "A spool of thread that made some truth telling lasso. It apparently can't break unless you tell it to and lay hands on the thread. Keep them tied up instead of killing them or maiming them. It makes it easier for me to eat."

Harley Quinn

"Oh shit like Wondy! Nice!" She takes the spool and gets right to work trussing up the mages for market. Her ears are up to listen for further enemies

Kairos

He feels bad for the mages, he does. They gave him comfortable bedding, good food, good conversation (though most of it was information based), and they were kinder than most mages. And plus, they don't have to run into his sister here. She doesn't work here. He thinks.

But he IS hungry. And she IS offering.

So he pulls on some strings and brings some more mages to their path. He probably can't do this many more times but he needs to eat something. These ones are tougher, burlier, to reflect his need for more 'protein' in his diet.

Harley Quinn

"Ah, you need some beef, huh?" She smiles and rolls her neck before launching into one big spring, transforming completely in mid air and laying the newcomers flat.

#ooc

[talesofealdancynedom]

Feon Seabryd in fairy robes, with storm staph.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 4.1 -  Time Stands Still: Feon 4/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

none

In spring, Meriam received a letter from the Northlands. The lord of Isfisceard, caught word of Meriam and her men wandering in and out of Celticia, to speak with Helrem in Algonquia. With Francia being hostile towards all three lands, Meriam had trespassed into Celticia to avoid death. However, The Northlands of Celticia had tightened its boarders, and was sending rangers and setting up outposts; The land was strained from battles from both Algonquia and Francia. The lord requested Meriam’s presence, to deal with a specific matter, in exchange for alliance with Anglia. Meriam was eager to accept, and make another ally at Francia’s boarders; and not get punished for trespassing. The courts would not let her leave however. They had a matter of special importance for her as well. Meriam was carrying their only heir to the throne, after Eatheltwein, making her even more valuable. They had forgotten Meriam didn’t take kindly to being treated like a fragile tool. She was being a royal brood mare for them against her wishes, and they still weren’t satisfied. Meriam left with her five loyal men, a doctor, and the Celtician lord’s letter on her pillow for the king to find.

           Celticia was temperate and wet. It smelled of rain, and upon its odd rock formation and cliffs, was the hum of the soothing low pressure. The scent of the sea embraced them, as Meriam and her party approached the docks. Crossing up the north isles was the last leg of the journey. Meriam was pampered by everyone; to her appreciation and disgust. It almost tarnished the wondrous experience of the Northland kingdom. The island of Isfisceard, was radiant. It was strewn with storm wildings, rain nymphs, ridge back drakes, hydra, and more. The most intriguing and enchanting things, aside from the beaches, sea walls, ferns and sequoia, was the voices that welled up from the depths; Fish children. There are no mermaids, sirens or selkies in Anglia, but there are many in Celticia. For there are many mariners and fishers, of whom a sixth would gladly wed a questionable, thirsty, hungry, and irresistible, maidens of the sea. While Meriam’s men were bewitched by lust, Meriam was overcome with awe and wonder. As a seer, her heart was a flutter with all fey before her. Meriam, as a mage, was drawn to magic. Thus, it was more fascination than lust, that seduced her to get a closer look. Not that the Fish King’s children weren’t to Meriam’s liking as well. As they docked at their destination village, the captain said they were lucky Anglian folk don’t sing. Cheerful tunes tend to attract less lovely daughters from the deep.

           Eager for a proper sleep, Meriam went directly to the lord’s house. But he would not let her rest; he held both her hands and bowed.

“Greeting Mage Queen Meriam. I am honoured you have accepted my invitation. I can tell you are weary, but a lady as precious and fine as you, needs to be kept safe; your men will remain with me, while you retire with Lady Feon Seabryd.” The lord smiled. His accent was both chipper and confusing. Like a thick Irish dialect. Meriam stepped back; what threat would be anticipated that would require her to sleep in a lighthouse, while her trusted knights became drunk lustful decoys.

“I am here to settle my debt, and forge alliances. Tell me your bargain; I am most short these days.” Meriam snapped. Then the lord, still bowing, noticed she was with child, and looked up at her grimace. The lord shivered in fear. Her khol, drawn like a hawk’s face, emphasizing her yellow eyes.

“My apologies your majesty. Let us make haste in signing the papers. You and your men must hear why I am so desperate to protect you, and improve our lands relations.” He said, leading them into a circular hall decorated in tapestries of fish fey and knots. The greens, teal, blues and bronzes complimenting the elaborately carved wooden stools and table.

“Sit, sit.” The lord prompted. Meriam’s men looked calmer then usual; they could handle a court room, after riding dragons. Magic, and their queen’s missions to make peace, was no longer confusing or dramatic.

“Alright, were all settled down now. So, what I need from this alliance, is an army to help this town. A messenger came from the east with a warning: In one season’s time, we will have the army of the Far North at our wall. Meanwhile, Francia is stalled by our land’s rangers and fey. Algonquia is slowly advancing, and occupying Celticia; We are weak. They come to finish their take over, by coming to Isfisceard for our lands only mage; the aforementioned Lady Feon. She sing’s storms and spells, and keeps balance between us and the magic of the sea. Each kingdom has a mage these days, and killing each other’s mages seems to be a common political strategy.” The lord explained.

“You want an army to protect your nations mage?” a knight asked.

“Aye. She is a kind charmer, with four beautiful children. Isfisceard would not be the same without her. But more then her death, I fear the mages of Algonquia. For the reason they are immune to our soldiers and fey, is because their prince and princess, the nephew and niece of the king, are both mages. Edmond Monabellen: The Wolf Prince of The North. He has walked through arrows, and cut cities in half. Him and his siter can control fey in battle, and their men and women are fearless in war. He is a paladin clad in violet and gold, with the eyes of a wolf, and riding his bear familiar. His sister, Luthid Geagwulf, is a witch that works from the camps, to manipulate the battle field. Their army has yet to lose a warrior. If they come for Feon, they will kill all of Celticia’s remaining armies, and take us before Francia does.” The Lord rambled. “I hear your power over time is great Meriam Craweleoth; between you and your kingdoms cavalry, I believe prince Edmond can be stopped. The Northland’s may be in your favour against Francia, if their wolf prince is defeated.” He concluded.

Meriam absorbed the information. Helrem had said nothing about the paladin prince in the Algonquian courts. Wolf kingdom mages, who could be advocating for magic, were being used like pawns in war. This is not how magic is supposed to be used. Their king is a coward for sending his only heir into battle, and a disappointment for abusing magic. Or worse, Edmond and Luthid were skirting their natures out of familial or patriotic obligation, and were in so deep, they can not escape war, despite their better judgment. If Meriam could resolve this, everyone would win.

“I agree to your terms. We will see who is willing to come to your aid by mid harvest. Hopefully my magic will prevent us from being tardy. May I rest now? Lord of Isfisceard?” Meriam said, signing the papers.

“Yes, you may; Feon will be waiting by the beach. There is a white stone of quartz she likes to sing from. Can’t miss it.”

           Merriam approached the fogged bay, that echoed of song, along with a closer voice. Upon a random tall stone of white quarts, was a freckled woman in teal fish kingdom fairy robes, holding a wooden staff set with a large emerald. Her long hair was red as blood, and her eyes like blue pine. She sang sweetly into the water, and its flat surface sang back. Her colours were unnatural; as if changed by magic from her going dark from tragedy. She looked like she was having so much fun, that she didn’t notice Merriam watching.

“Are you Feon Seabryd? I am Queen Meriam of Anglia; your lord said I was to stay with you and your family for safety.” Meriam said.

“Aye. Wait till you meet my family-” Feon said, gazing at Meriam. She looked like a ghost dressed in her black feather and crushed velvet fairy robes. “You’re going to have a baby! That’s so exciting! I know just the way to treat you; as a mother myself!” Feon chimed. She took Meriam’s hand and gently led her to a house at the bottom of a light tower, that was carved into the sea wall of the bay.

“I hate children. I don’t want to have a baby; that could kill a woman.”

“I love my children! All four of them! They were a pain, but they are like precious jewels. I smile everyday when I see them. Speaking of children, I have a son who is also a mage, though he don’t know it yet. Lyra is his name; a charmer just like me. Possibly even a storm breaker like me too! I have many notes about mages, and magic workings. You are a seer, right? Maybe reading or copying them would be restful for you?” Feon suggested. With magic on the table, Merriam was warming up to the idea of being in a peasant’s bungalow, surrounded by wild children. The only child she ever liked was Eatheltwein; and she was not responsible for his care.

           In the cabin, Feon had her children bring her and Meriam food to study. Feon was excited to pick the brain of a seer, and Meriam was happy to finally be sitting. Feon had many books and journals in her room; it was crowded in a hurricane of organized chaos, around the two beds she shared with her husband and children. Meriam was brought back to her childhood in Francia, sharing a bed with her friend Felin.

“What type of mage are you?” Feon asked, placing a teal leather journal on the table. “For example, I am a Storm breaker; we summon and control weather when magic moves through us, from being really happy. But if we don’t have a storm staph, we will lose control and go gray dark; causing natural disasters. I got my storm staph sent to me from a warlock in Sinonia, of the Grand East, who is also a storm breaker. In fact, the lad sent me many, requesting I place them in the Fish Kingdom in the shadow veil, because The Fish Gate is down the cliff of the lighthouse…” Feon said, handing the journal to Meriam and showing off her wood and emerald staph. Meriam examined it carefully, it was wonderfully crafted. She wondered how the parcel arrived through Francia, and then recalled that they took postage seriously there; you could mail one hundred mice to a foreign land and no one would stop you. A good package, is a delivered package. Feon knocked on the table Infront of Meriam to get her attention.

“Oh sorry, you reminded me of something… I guess I’m a Memoirium de Morte; a mage who can manipulate time. I didn’t realize we had types.” Meriam laughed, melting into the reclined chair covered in plaids.

“Do share! I want to complete that teal compodium, with details about all the mages for our ancestors!”

“Why do you write texts instead of poetry? I thought you were a charmer?”

“I am. But I am also a mother and avid hobbyist. Oh, thank you Lyra” Feon said, taking the kettle and pouring tea. An older boy with ginger hair and green eyes brought it. His long-curled hair was twisted in various strands and weaved into a knot; and he seemed to almost glow with joy while he hummed.

“Ah, one of your children. The Lyra of which you mentioned…” Meriam said.

“Aye, your majesty. I hope you enjoy the tea!” Lyra bowed before dashing off. Meriam gave a cough and returned her attention to Feon.

“You hate children? Why?”

“Hate is a strong word. I prefer the phrase: ‘I am opposed to.’ As too why, maybe it’s I don’t want a dependant human to keep me away from my adventures, or worry me. Or perhaps I don’t wish to put my life at risk to appease a court of men. The reason is irrelevant, and it is no one’s business what I choose to do with my life and body.” Meriam snarled, tossing back the staph. “Give me some of your journals to copy for my records, and tell me what you want to know about my abilities; or more why I don’t just use them to resurrect people or manipulate their memories.”

“I’m sorry. Just don’t understand is all. But as for your special magic, the question in these times isn’t why you don’t use your powers, but why Anglia doesn’t make you.” Feon said.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #short stories #fantasy #story 19 #meriam #nihten #feon #lyra #sirulius #edmond #luthid

[sublime-cinema]

I have been reading about dyslexia and the subsequent trauma that manifests from it due to the stigma through the systemic authority of the school system. In primary school, in particular, those who are deemed as intelligent are almost the literal embodiments of the deities of maths and spelling, superior to those who could not adapt that system of knowledge seamlessly into their minds. This ideology has demarcated me as “stupid” (my go to word) me through movements of parental negligence, segregation of classes, and categorisation of Failure or Below Average through tests and exams. However, unlike previous generations of schooling, I have not been regarded as “ stupid” through verbal abuse and authoritative punishment. But the vast majority of the time, I have been ignored or passively considered, as though those in authority of knowledge had given up on me before my education had begun. In turn, I became frighted of performance that demonstrated my intellect, all of which is to anticipate harsh criticism, or being patronised. This is to the extent that I had a hostile perception of others, believing anyone of significant value saw me as ignorant, lazy, careless and, most of all, disgusting. Every perceivable flaw was critically examined through a test rubric that I had failed to manipulate my own intellect to. No matter how it was sliced, no matter how the system could make insignificant changes to an education system that is bounded by the oppressive structure of capitalism: I was classified as a dumb kid. By my final year of high school I received a letter to ‘advise’ me not to take the university entrance exams, but, with the ignorant belief of salvation at university, I took them anyway. I was desperate to change, I had to be intelligent. Or rather, despite my inherent belief of my own intelligence without the systems of comparison, I had to be seen as intelligent. 

Now many dyslexics often cope with this childhood trauma by avoiding academic work through fear of imperfection. People who don't face their fears head-on are no less brave than those who do. Despite going to university, and seemingly appear as adaptive and resourceful to “challenge” myself, I was merely handling my trauma another way. What held me as independent of this is that I seemed to gravitate towards education, perhaps as a subconscious method to control my defects via self aggrandization. In other words, intelligence became my shameful fetish from the source of identificaiton. This is all due to the fact that going to university is idealised in my family and the particular bougie school that I went to. Despite this, I genuinely love reading, learning through conversation, and especially, playing with ideas through imagination. I am, otherwise, a quick learner when I do not feel immense pressure to run away from criticism. In fact, I believe that all dyslexics are indeed intelligent, yet, live a tragedy that tells them otherwise. However, even with this awareness, my trauma has so possessed me by this point that it was nearly undoable, laced in my subconscious and expressed through maladaptive strategies to elevate pain. I have desperately tried to do so from this trauma, over compensating at university and aiming to be high achieving with strenuous labour. Unlike most students, I cannot do multiple things at once, say working part time and course work because of this developed fear of failure that I now have, which causes me to fall to physical paralysis, unable to do anything. In fact, the more stressed I am, the more “the dyslexia” shows itself, even to a point where I get tongue tied and literally unable to write basic sentences. It is a disgusting sensation that is accompanied without conscious thought. Even while I am in this state, I place enormous efforts into my assignments which seldom is recognised by others. Only the value judgment is to see if it is intellectually adequate to the school curriculum. I am limited in my capabilities, every assignment is not seen as an endeavour to broaden my awareness to the world but a desperate attempt to demonstrate my absolute best, my worth, as it were. This I believe is entirely self corrupting and sabotaging to my own perception of myself– dependent on a system that has abused me for so many years. In some ways, by drastically concealing my so-called defects, I do not appear to be a traumatised person in the academic area. Many people are often surprised that I am dyslexic when I tell them, from preconceived notions that dyslexics are dismissed in academic settings, are Othered in greater society and show the identifications of stupidity. “Dyslexics don't read!” “A dyslexic couldn’t possibly articulate such a point!” Some of which might assume– consciously or not. By showing my intelligence that is acceptable to the dominating system to others, my trauma is retracted. I appear as though I’m not as damaged to what is recognised as a traumatised person, then, I am not worth listening to or worthy of any sympathy because I have “overcome” my limitations. 

I am now doing my Honours thesis and the last year has been hellish for the very fact that I have re-traumatised myself every day through this internalised voice of horrifying self criticism. I feel unwelcome in my faculty on the very set belief that I am an imposter, only to be discovered that I am, indeed, a failure that is faking my way through this process. This whole masquerade was uncovered when I received a lousy grade on one of my assignments in June. When it happened I tried to commit suicide. From therapy and gradually realising that this reaction is ridiculous from growing my worth, I have come to realise that my thesis is not equated my immeasurable pain. I want to congratulate myself that I have come this far with my education, working within a system that has caused me nothing but self-hatred, where my perceived view of my intelligence is taken away from me. However none of this is to be recommended and should be not seen as a story of individual triumph within an oppressive system. I want to make it very clear that those with developmental trauma often do not prosper and remain categorised as “failures” for the rest of their lives. I want to finish my thesis, however, I want to do it within my own terms of what is intellectually satisfactory. If I receive an appealing grade, so be it, I really wasn’t suited to the thankless world of academia anyway. All motivated by a masochistic identification with the authority. 

#dyslexia #what it is like to be dyslexic #trauma #developmental trauma #bpd #actually bpd #actually dyslexia #neurodivergencies #neurotypical #neurodivergent

[eremiss]

Gwen: 15. What it takes to make them cry. 19. People they’ve hurt or indirectly killed, and how it affected them.

 15— Feeling like she’s let her friends/those she cares about down, especially if it’s because she’s failed somehow, and there’s no way to really undo/fix/make up for it, always winds up in tears. 99% of the time she’s able to hold it in until she’s gotten somewhere private, as she’s never liked other people seeing her cry. Not so much because it makes her look weak as she feels like it’s sort of an admittance of, “yeah, you’re right, I can’t do it,” and/or she feels like she’s guilting people, even though she’s never purposefully done such a thing. Those instances are generally more aggravation/frustration sort of crying (though there’s definitely an element of sadness to it, too.) and occasionally includes wall and/or bed punching and hair pulling.

Feeling alone/lonely and losing someone she cares about absolutely wreck her. After losing her family she tried the whole keep-people-at-arm’s-length thing for a while, but could never manage it because she can’t stand being alone. She spent a long time getting caught between wanting friends and to not be alone, and not letting anyone get close for fear of losing them again either through tragedy or them turning out to be someone she doesn’t actually want to be close to.

She eventually settled on a sort of, “it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all”-ish mindset, but more to the tune of ‘take time to get to know people to find ones worth getting a little closer to, then protect them with everything you have’ with precisely 0 backup strategy for if something happened to them (out of her control or otherwise). She clings to those she’s gotten close to and has difficulty really letting go and stepping away from them short of some major betrayal or outright rejection. (oh hey maybe that’s why she didn’t fuss or complain nearly as much as she should have while being treated like an errand bitch for so fucking long)

Unsurprisingly, pre-5.0 was a really really bad time. Many nights (and days), especially after they’d exhausted every option they could think of in search of answers, were spent teary-eyed and existing in a perpetual state of dejection.

19—There’s, like, actually too many people to mention with the “indirectly hurt and killed” because that’s just such a huge facet of the WoL and their journey in general (…and it’s happened so much/often over the xpacs I’ve actually forgotten a lot of them I’m sure e_e)

But the biggest influences are people like Wildred and Meffrid; people who were trying to help and do the right thing and were in the position to get hurt/killed because of her (ie: Meffrid’s medicine, and recruiting/helping to recruit Wildred to the Crystal Braves.) Argue all you want that Meffrid, at least, would have been at the Reach no matter what if he’d lived, seeing how he wanted to liberate Ala Mhigo, but she’s noooot gonna listen to it.

Overall Gwen tries not to let it weigh on her too much because otherwise she’d spiral into, “I can’t do anything because then people will get killed”. She’s very good at keeping the weight of it all off of her face, but instead it tends to come out in her actions, like being jumpy, extra fidgety, having trouble sleeping or, sometimes, her magic being weak/ineffective.

Outwardly she tries really hard to be careful about encouraging people to join or help causes and be a lot more mindful of collateral damage for her action/inaction, and she tries to stick around after the fact and help clean up and lend a hand when she can. She also tries very hard to calm people down and reason with them and talk them out of pumped up, overly optimistic, hype-mode mindsets so they can be more pragmatic or realistic about themselves and their situation before running off to join a cause.

Them: “The warrior of light liberated the country! I’m so fucking pumped right now! I’m gonna get a sword and go fight the imperials too! I’m gonna back her up!”

Her: “You’re a farmer with literally 0 combat training. How about you help by supplying stuff instead so you maybe don’t get murdered?”

Walking around trying to recruit people to fight for Ala Mhigo in early StB was…hard. She was torn between believing in the cause, and herself and the Scions, and wanting to try and give the downtrodden people some hope, and being like “No, don’t, you’ll be so much safer.”

And wouldn’t you know it, in the end it turned out…not so great. Meffrid ;_;

When the villagers from Namai showed up to save her and Yugiri from Zenos in StB Gwen was horrified. “Oh gods this whole village is going to die because of me.” After it turned out okay she was able to appreciate the gesture and really accept that she’d given them hope and lifted their spirits and all of that good stuff, but in the moment she was dying inside and shitting bricks bigtime.

For a less-indirect example: When Haurchefant took that spear of light Gwen tried to heal him and save him. When that didn’t work, she completely lost the ability to use healing magic. She could still cast VerAero and VerStone and other basic (offensive) Conjury spells she’d learned in her brief tutelage under the Conjurer’s Guild, but she couldn’t even work healing magic well enough to heal a papercut. She was basically just cut off from that aspect of her magic because her own mind was getting in the way,and she couldn’t heal anything. She tried to play it off and hide it, but when people asked her to heal this, that or the other and she couldn’t she really started having a rough time.

Her failure and his death became this huge mental block that lasted almost into StB, and she only overcame it through a lot of time working Y’shtola and a few deep discussions with Alphinaud (and a bit of rehashing her lessons with X’hrun, eventually) and then getting purposefully lost in The Shroud for most of a week trying to force herself to hear the Elements again. (all of which starts to come about after “Slosh” when she finally makes herself take the time to look at all the stuff she’s been suppressing for so long) Her healing abilities came back gradually, and it wasn’t till early 5.0 that she was back in proper RDM-Off-healer form.

Overall: loss is a serious blow, but it winds up in her telling herself she has to be better  and has to be stronger. Which sometimes works…and other times is just beating herself up :\

#FFXIV #asks #WoL #Guinevere Ashe #My writing #Thanks for the ask!! #It really got me thinking #and got me laying out more stuff that was just theory in my head #overall #honestly #Gwen is very sad #and she sees other people #and is like 'no don't be sad like me' #'it's terrible and it hurts' #'let me help you be happy' #thanks for the ask #Answered

[superlazygeek]

The Dark Blooded Paladin/A dungeons and dragons story

                                                   Episode 1                                          The reckless knight Daniel had many different nightmares only this one was almost in his control. He found himself in his old town of dimcrest as it was being burnt down and attacked by vampires of one of the dark guilds. Even though he was a child in this dream his anger gave him the strength of a warrior as he struck down many vampires in his path with single blow. After clearing a path daniel fell on one knee and started breathing heavily while griping the sword in his right hand. He suddenly heard a loud hissing noise behind and turned his head to find that it was another vampire in the form of a woman staring savagely at daniel with her glowing red eyes and bright white fangs. As his anger sparked up again daniel turned toward the vampire, leaped into the air, raised his sword and swung it down toward the vampire woman. Before his sword could reach her form of the vampire woman transformed into someone else. The expression on his turned from anger to shock as was about to strike down his adoptive sister arlena. The illusion of his sister quickly disappeared before his sword could reach strike the ground with a large clank. The illusion of his sister was behind in a knights uniform staring away from daniel. Daniel then grinded his teeth before muttering the words: “why...did you betray me? You taught me how to survive, you showed me how to be strong. If this was all just a game then what was i really fighting for?!”. After daniel turned backward the illusion of his sister disappeared again. He looked up to the smoke filled sky as he heard a stretching roar becoming louder as it drawing closer to him. And of the fiery mist came large monstrous bat slamming it’s clawed wings on the ground and growling it’s blood stained fangs. The monstrous bat charged at daniel with his mouth wide open. With no chance of attacking daniel held his sword up to his face and closed his eyes hoping that this position would defend himself.      

Daniel then woke up screaming as he lifted his upper body from his bed and started breathing heavily. Once he caught his breath he pushed the covers away and placed his feet on floor on the left side of the bed. He placed both his hands on the sides of his head and said in a low voice: “arlena why did you do it?”. Suddenly was alarmed by a knock at his door followed by a man’s voice saying: “daniel my boy are you awake?”. Daniel then sat up from his bed to stretch out his arms and walked slowly to the door with eyes half shut. Upon opening the door he yawned while covering his mouth, rubbed his eyes and said: “yes captain i’m awake”. “Come on son theirs no need to address me like that were not even on duty yet” said the man who daniel called captain. “Oh right sorry” said daniel. Thomas eudon was captain of the unit C knights and the adoptive father of daniel renoldus. He has been known to be friendly man who connects well with his unit members but has also been rumored to have an angry side but rarely shows it. Even though he looks after all his unit members his duties as a father always come first. “Well you better get ready because the unit is heading to the food hall don’t want to miss out on the grub do ya” said captain eudon. Daniel chuckled a bit before saying: “sure don’t”. “Also we need to talk about something important so please hurry up” said captain eudon. “Yes sir” said daniel as he closed the door. And so daniel slide open his closet and reached for his uniform of a white long sleeved shirt with the paladin symbol on both shoulders and black pants. After putting his uniform on his locked the door to his room and proceeded to the food hall.  

The headquarters of knights guild was a castle in the center of the city of ebonbarrow, it is comprised of six food halls with tall windows and is surrounded by a stone barricade with black iron gates and four towers on each corner where the archers stood guard, the middle was comprised of different rooms that were included for training and rest. The six separate halls is where each unit would go to receive orders from head commander gunterius and socialize with a warm cooked meal. “My boy you made it!” Shounted captain eudon in friendly tone siting at the end of the table “come sit alongside your old man!”. Daniel sighed and proceeded to the table. Each unit had forty members in total but it’s been rumored that the church council plans to increase that number due to the war efforts. Ever since the vampires invaded five of the noble houses the council has been trying to get as many recruits. The noble houses were the first families of paladins who’s descendants would become oathbound crusaders of justice due to their loyalty to Shereus the god of creation. But ever since the great tragedy many family members died thus the kingdoms defenses were at an all time low. But in the midst of that tragedy some members of each family survived but only one would represent the house and thus the council was born. Since the noble houses were destroyed the council would recruit peasants to become the next line of defense in their war against vampires. Their are six units in every guild but only two of them are the support groups know as the clerics. Although both paladins and cleric’s are gifted with holy magic the clerics were more adaptable with their deities power. Before war was declared on the vampires they were teachers of the scriptures that defended the land from evil spirits and healed the sick. But now they aid the paladins on the battlefield healing their wounds and using their attack spells as their own fire power. Each member of the guild has been isolated from the rest of the world, it was decided by the council as they couldn’t afford any losses in hopes of outnumbering the vampires.        

Although daniel received a warm welcome from his father the other unit member weren’t to fond of his presence as they stared at him with the most cold hearted look before continuing to eat their breakfast. Daniel felt uneasy but as the unit members turned their heads, he let it go with a miserable sigh and proceeded to eat his meal. “Daniel iv’e received your results in leading the new recruits for the guild and i hate to say it but i’m quite disappointed son” said captain eudon “Do you know why?”. Daniel briefly looked at his father before staring at his food with a gloomy look on his face and said: “because i lack any leadership skills?”. Captain eudon nodded his head in disagreement while saying: “no it’s because you have been carrying on this lone crusade for far too long”. Daniel’s face jumped with surprise before placing his right hand on his brow with his elbow touching the table. “Daniel the reason why you became one of my lieutenant’s isn’t because your my son it’s because you have proved that you can fight for our cause” said captain eudon “but you can’t go on your own personal vendetta with the vampires while endangering those who also wish to fight”. “I know it’s just that…” said daniel as he struggled with his speech “ever since we were notified that the vampires are getting stronger in numbers i thought that meant our efforts in defeating them were futile. I know it was wrong for getting the new recruits involved but i felt like i needed to do something to make sure we weren’t anywhere close to losing this war”. Captain eudon took a big sigh of grief while closing eye’s and said: “i understand your fear in losing this war son believe me i am too but do you remember the three basic steps to winning any war?”. “Who wouldn’t forget” answered daniel “we are to remember the power that’s been given to us, know our enemies power as well as their flaws and strike them down once those flaws are exposed to us”. Captain eudon smiled before saying: “it’s good that you still remember just try using that method the next time your called for battle. Because if you continue with this reckless strategy your bound to end up dead”.

While continuing to eat his meal daniel could see from the corner of his left eye in the distance that the entrance door of the food hall was slowly opening. As he turned his full attention he saw that it was Ridon one of the messengers for the guild wearing a light armor uniform and a scroll in his hands. These messengers are peasants employed by the guild to carry out messages across the guild due to the size of their headquarters. If needed they would also spread messages to the other guilds across the land in case if they needed to allie for certain occupations. They have also been given limited amount of sword training to defend themselves against physical attacks and have been taught a sacred healing spell by the celtics. “Attention unit C!” shouted ridon “since units A, B, D and E are soon to return this shall be your last mission on the sidelines. And now i shall read you the orders from the head commander guntious!”. Ridon unrolled the scroll and took a deep breath before shouting: “Unit C your last quest on the sidelines is that of a rescue mission for far south lies a town known as clerville that has been invaded by goblins holding many of our people hostage. But since the numbers of goblin has increased taking it back will be too much of risk. Therefore unit F shall draw the goblins out of the town and into the woods. Once the town has been cleared you shall enter in, rescue the remaining survivors and take them to the assigned village where they will be under your full protection. Your horses and carriages have been prepared in the south gate. Be bold and may the divine creator be with you all!”.        

As the messenger left the food hall daniel suddenly felt he’s head burning as the order he just received triggered the same memory from his dreams. Sweat ran across his brow as he tried to bring him back to the present day by closing his eyes and placing both hands on his head. He griped his hair and grinded his teeth as the screams in his head grew louder and louder. But then a distant but familiar voice called out his name and then daniel opened his eyes as he found himself lying against the table while captain eudon kept shrugging his shoulder to wake him up. “Daniel daniel wake up!” Shouted captain eudon. Daniel had opened his eyes and turned his left and right as he noticed that all the unit members were gone  “Are you alright son?” said captain eudon “Y--yeah i'm alright i didn’t get a lot of sleep last night” said daniel as rubbed his eyes. “Well you better wake up fast because the rest of the unit is already ahead of you” said captain eudon while pointing the open entrance door with his thumb. “Oh crap i almost forgot!” shouted daniel as he quickly arose from his seat “i left my armor and sword with the blacksmith i’ll be at the south gate as soon as i can!”. Daniel then dashed out of the food hall leaving one of the doors half open and his adoptive father to grieve over his forgetfulness. “Idiot kid” sighed captain eudon while crossing his arms.

Daniel had made it to the blacksmiths workshop where both the paladins and the clerics received their armor and weaponry. He was accurately quite fond of this place as he was raised by blacksmiths himself. Before his parents were taken away they would often tell him stories of the paladins who seeked their help in crafting their weaponry and how their weaponry aided them in many heroic battles. Daniel was so astonished by these stories that he believed he was destined to aid the paladins as well for they were his heroes. But even though he became a paladin for the guild he never thought of himself as hero. Due to his personal quest for vengeance his methods for bringing justice was effective but also quite reckless, as his constant mistakes have earned him a bad reputation among the guild and it’s members. After putting on his armor and attaching his sword and scabbard to his waist he noticed a picture siting on the table. He picked it up noticed that it was an old photo of him and his sister after their victory in the swordsmanship tournament. The photo contained daniel and arlena in their late teen and wearing gold and white student informs, arlena had her left arm wrapped around daniels shoulders while smiling. Daniel had his right behind her back grabbing her right shoulder, he was smiling in the photo as well only he had a wooden practice sword in his left hand. After staring at the photo for five seconds he folded the photo in two and slipped it into his right gauntlet. He then exited the blacksmith shop into the hallway where he found captain eudon laying his back against the wall with his back against the wall and his arms crossed.

“You know i’m actually quite surprised” said captain eudon “even though their are five blacksmith shops here in the guild you haven’t joined a single one why is that?”. Daniel had natural talent natural for blacksmithing only has skills have remained dormant due to his current duty as a paladin. “Times change i guess” answered daniel while shrugging his shoulders. Captain eudon got off the wall and said: “come on son don’t me that crap. Were all born with different talents it’s just a shame that you choose to waste it”. Daniel looked at the blacksmith shop and said: “In that case can i ask you something?”. “What is it?” answered captain eudon. “Do you think i’ll ever be as good of a fighter as arlena or am i better off crafting weapons here” asked daniel. Captain eudon sighed before saying: “I may have trained her well but she wasn’t without her flaws too. So don’t go comparing yourself to my daughter daniel i find it rather insulting”. “Sorry dad i know that i can’t measure up to her level of skill and power but i want to do my best in filling in her shoes especially after...what she did” said while looking to the side. Captain eudon placed his left hand on his right shoulder and said: “We will find her daniel. As soon as this war is over our family will be reunited once more. Now come on were already late for our departure”. And so the two of them proceeded through the caste halls leading to the south gate where the rest of unit C awaited them.

As they got their ten rows of horses that were facing toward the south gate, each row had a pattern where one horse is attached to a wagon for carrying the hostages and another horse to be ridden by single knight to protect the wagons. “Captain eudon!” Shouted a male knight while carrying two swords in his arms “Everything is ready for departure, everyone has their horse, all the wagons are in tack and everyone has a strategy map and here’s your map captain” The knight stretched out his arms toward them give them their swords. “Thank you for the report private sirloin and for the map you are dismissed” said captain eudon. “Your welcome captain thank” said private sirlon while saluting the captain by crossing his right arm across his chest. For a brief second private sirlon looked over to daniel and gave him the same angry cold hearted look before turning his back on him and marching away. Daniel has always been a lone wolf but he never thought it would effect his reputation as a paladin, now he feared that it has gotten worse since the other unit members don’t seem to trust him. “You’ve really made a name for yourself daniel although i wouldn’t really consider that to be a good thing” said captain eudon. “Yeah at this rate i’ll never be qualified for any leadership positions” said daniel while crossing his arms. Captain eudon suddenly slapped him on the back startling him. “Save it for the books son now come on let’s find your horse” said captain eudon. Daniel had found his horse in one of rows in the middle and climbed up the saddle on it’s back and gently rubbed it’s neck with his right hand.

“Father since this is our last mission on the sidelines will our unit be returning to the frontlines again” asked daniel. “Don’t know it hasn’t been discussed by the head commander yet but it’s a possibility. Only i don’t think were gonna be active in the war for awhile since the other units are taking down one of the vampires top generals” answered captain eudon while stroking his chin. “So if one their generals is taken down than that means we’ll have the upper hand again” said daniel. “Not just that my boy it also means will finally have peace...for a little while at least” said captain eudon “why don’t the two of us take father and son trip to (place) their might some cute girls who could take an interest in you”. Daniel’s face jumped with shock as his fathers words made him feel embarrassed as he said: “uh aren’t we forribidon from leaving the city unauthorized because i’m pretty sure that town is away from ebonbarrow”. Captain eudon chuckled before saying: “just messing with ya boy but i am serious though. This war has taken a toll on both of us ya know so i only think it’s fair that we take a break from all this. So how about we start with a drink at one of the city taverns my treat”. Daniel sighed with a smile and answered with: “sure dad sounds great”. “Then it’s settled also were on duty lieutenant so you start referring to me as captain now” said captain eudon as climbed on his horse and moved toward the gate. “Uh yes fath-i mean captain”.          

Even after losing his wife and daughter daniel had always wondered how he could be so thick skin as the shield on his back. For captain thomas was truly an honorable warrior and a loyal friend. With his experience in leadership and strategy he has lead unit C to many victories. While he has been rumored to be quite fearsome when angered it doesn’t shy away from the fact that he has become a father and a friend to all with his encouraging wisdom and his willingness to help others. Even when he is off duty he’s always trying to find something to do whether it’s drinking at the tavern, competing in sword duals, and showing off in front of the ladies. He was indeed a man of action. “Atteeeeeention!” Shouted captain eudon catching the whole units attention as he was about to give his routine speech. “The orders from head commander gunterius has been put very clear. The yellow squadron are to serve as a distraction while we free the survivors right from under their noses. Some of you may think that goblins are just simple little pests but don’t underestimate them. They may act on their impulses but that's what them makes so fierce in battle. So remember protect these people at all costs and show these bastards no mercy.” Captain eudon then faced his horse at the iron gate and looked up at the archers on top of the wall and shouted: “Open the gate!” One archer ran down the stairs on top of the wall to pass on the message to the gate keepers while two other archers sounded the horns for the people of ebonbarrow. As the sound echoed through every ear in the south region of the city the people knew they had to clear a path as it was an occasional routine for them. The black iron gate slowly started to rise from the dry ground as the horses started breathing heavily and as the knights stared blankly at the path ahead. When the gate was fully opened the knights wiped the horses with the saddle straps and charged through the gate like a stampede. The people of ebonbarrow started to cheer them on as they were on another mission to protect the kingdom, the hooves of the horses started to hit the concrete road as they made their way through the town. When they made it out through the outer gate they followed another concrete road leading away from their headquarters and toward their destination.

#Writing stories Dungeons and dragons

[mavda]

The witch and the wolf

Summary: Spirits are fickle beings that yearn contact with Hylians. More often than not it ends badly and a witch has to step up to fix the problem. Zelda is called by a village desperate to save a young boy from the Spirits, but she is the fourth one to try and fix this.

Zelda eyed the forest in front of her. Tall, dark and menacing, it was no wonder the villagers didn't dare go inside. Zelda let out the breath she had been holding with distate.

"Please, Ma'am, we will pay you, just-"

It was not the task at hand what bothered Zelda, she had done a dozen of these. The Spirits were always eager to make contact and often they got their ways inside people's heart. It wasn't hard to fall for them, it wasn't that hard either to repel the spells.

"He's a really important member of our community, please-"

What bothered Zelda wasn't the difficulty either. Sure, people who wanted to give away their bodies to the Spirits were always harder to fight, and this boy had obviously done so.

"Please, everyone else left, please-"

What bothered Zelda was the distress in the villagers. It was seeing the obvious close-knitted community that was suffering this 'tragedy' of sorts in which they believed their boy had been seduced by evil beings.

How was Zelda supposed to tell them that he had probably given himself to them?

Light Spirits were, as their name suggested, part of the good guys. Sure, they were mischievous as every Spirit was, but they didn't curse people because they felt like it.

That boy had asked for it.

And now the village wanted him back.

And the reason people just didn't come here anymore was because fighting a curse with someone who wanted it was a drag.

Why was Zelda here, again?

Oh, right, Midna and her bets and her witty remarks that made Zelda feel inferior.

Yeah, fuck that, Zelda would show her.

Zelda entered the forest with a disgusted face, "You could have at least found a better place to hide in," Zelda wrinkled her nose, the swamp looked purple and it smelled like rotten porridge, "an open place, for starters, maybe some patches of flowers, nothing fancy, just-"

A wolf, too big to be called a wolf, showed its face from a hill to Zelda's right and Zelda smirked, "I'm sure you could have done better."

The wolf growled, a sound that came from its belly and that echoed with the trees, making a cacophony that sounded like it came from hell.

Zelda could understand why everybody ran away from him, "That all you got?" Zelda teased. It had been 8 months and 12 days since his change, if what a young villager named Ilia could be trusted.

The wolf squinted its eyes and Zelda could see human features hidden in it. Ilia had been obviously distressed by the boy's fate and her eyes had been blood-shot. It was always a good way to test the waters to mention the name of someone close.

"He's my childhood friend, please-"

Zelda stood to her full height, "Ilia is worried, you know?"

If the wolf just maintained its usual behaviour then his soul was trapped way inside and Zelda's work was doubled instantly. The wolf barked as if he could take Zelda's arm all the way from the hill, and Zelda smirked, fear climbing up her legs, "Good boy," she whispered.

She walked towards the wolf and his response was to growl again, "You're gonna need more than that to make me turn tail," sure, her head felt light but he didn't need to know that.

Usually, possessed people who felt threatened ran back to their lair and then attacked. Usually, because the wolf followed Zelda with his fangs bared and when Zelda reached the start of the hill, he looked enormous, drool dropped from the side of his mouth and his hairs stood on end.

"Oh, well," Zelda touched her hip and felt her dagger, "you wanna make this quick, I guess?"

The wolf gave a step forward and inched closer.

"I'll have you know, buddy, I've fought things ten times your size. So what do you say you let me help you and you'll be able to go back to your village?"

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because the wolf jumped with a snarl and Zelda had to call upon her Light Shield to stop him from squishing her to death.

Well, that was useful information. The wolf reacted to his old life and his return caused him pain. A sad, desperate boy who had wanted to escape from... what?

Zelda would have to find out.

The wolf was relentless, but Zelda dodged and blocked with eased practice. The moment he stopped to take a breather, Zelda spoke, "You know the village called upon me, right?" The wolf snapped his teeth together and if that wasn't a threat then Zelda would eat her shoe, "but I'm not the first one, am I? You've had that form for eight months, already. The village called upon a bunch of witches, three came before me, you injured one heavily and the other two gave up when they saw you unwilling to help."

The wolf turned and wagged his tail slowly.

"You do know, don't you? You asked for this, I will need your help to undo it."

The wolf ran directly towards Zelda and when Zelda called her Light Shield to protect herself the wolf used it to jump and run in the opposite direction.

Zelda was left to fight alone, "Well... fuck you, too."

Zelda walked through the forest the rest of the day, memorized places and planned strategies right there. She didn't know if the wolf was following or not, but she wasn't scared. Nervous, for sure. Anxious, greatly. But not scared.

What kind of scared her, and she would greatly avoid was the talk the villagers would expect from her.

Before leaving and to the void in front of her, she shouted, "I'm more stubborn than the ones you faced before, you hear me?"

Zelda didn't know, but the wolf followed her out the forest.

When Zelda went back to the village she faced the people waiting for her with optimism. No work was ever done in a day. Yes, she had seen the boy. Yes, he looked fine. Well, still cursed, but strong and still inside. How long would it take? Well, how about we eat first, huh?

Zelda had evaded any and all loaded questions and had safely returned to the room the Mayor had lent her.

It was just her luck that the boy's childhood friend was the Mayor's daughter.

Ilia, if Zelda recalled correctly, opened Zelda's door just enough for Zelda to see her eyes and the shame behind them.

"May I have a moment with you?"

Zelda would rather return to the forest, but the girl was clasping her trousers hard and Zelda had seen it so many times before. "Of course, come in."

Ilia walked with her eyes downcast and sat in a nearby chair. "Is he," she started, but the tears dropped almost immediately and Zelda bit her lip.

"I'm sorry," whimpered Ilia, "It's just- You're the fourth one and the more time it passes..."

"The harder it becomes to undo," Zelda finished. The first law she had learned a while back. "Don't worry," Zelda should have known better than to speak with haste, "I'll bring him back."

There was a reason why Zelda had self-imposed the lonely persona. She sucked at being cold.

The wolf remained hidden that day. It helped Zelda grow used to the surroundings and the flow of magic there. It was strong. And though Zelda couldn't pinpoint why, it also felt weird.

As Zelda walked through the forest she encountered what used to be a clear spring, she was sure. There were some small falls around it and if only she took away the weird smell and the purple color from it, she could see clear water running, birds and animals getting closer, a Light Spirit residing there. Zelda took a step forward and stopped mid-movement. She closed her eyes and let her clairvoyance show her images. This was where the boy talked to the Spirit. The Light Spirit used to live there, should still be there. Spirits didn't normally leave their resting places.

Zelda walked to the water, kneeled near the shore. She couldn't feel the Spirit. She could feel its signature magic, it was still strong, but she couldn't see nor hear it.

Zelda turned as she felt a new signature coming from behind. The wolf. And Zelda's weird feeling was starting to take form.

"This is where you talked to the Spirit, wasn't it?"

Zelda got a growl as an answer. But she didn't need one. She could feel the Spirit's magic inside the wolf. "Why is it like this?" The wolf came closer. "Did you dirty it?"

The wolf bared its fangs. "Ligh Spirits don't dirty their places like this. Light Spirits don't leave their places either."

The wolf started running towards Zelda, and Zelda raised her hand, "This one is gonna hurt, wolf!"

Zelda called forth her Light Magic, but commanded it to attack instead of defend. The moment the wolf touched her magic it growled and stepped back.

"Told ya," Zelda teased, she took a stance and ran to the wolf.

The animal froze a second, not used to being attacked. Zelda jumped to the wolf and couldn't shake the feeling that had taken root in her stomach. This place felt weird, the wolf felt weird.

Zelda hugged the wolf's head and brought him to the ground, she opened her legs for support as she kept him pinned under her arm. As he thrashed around and bit the air around her, Zelda enveloped her hand with magic and tried to pry open the barrier around the him.

The wolf contorted its body and bit Zelda's upper arm, she cursed to the air and flung the wolf away from her.

The animal disappeared into the forest and Zelda flowed magic through her wound, "No wonder nobody could take you on, you weirdo."

Zelda shook her head as she opened and closed her hand.

There was a Light Spirit and a Twilight Spirit inside of him.

Ilia was sitting in the corner of the room while Uli dressed Zelda's wound.

"I'm sorry," Ilia said.

Zelda cocked her eyebrow at her, "It's not your fault, though? The wolf should be sorry."

Ilia looked at her hands, "I'm sure he is," she whispered.

Uli tightened Zelda's bandages, "Ilia, love, may I have some time alone with the witch?"

Ilia dragged her feet across the floor. Zelda coughed into her hand, nervous at being alone with the older woman.

"Link," Uli said. Zelda stared back. "He's called Link."

Ah. Zelda had known. It was just her policy to keep calling the beasts by their beast name. "Uh, sorry about that, it's just... It makes it easier for my job, you know? He's not the first wolf I encounter, nor the first monster," Zelda tried to gauge Uli's expression at the word, but the woman remained calm, "I have faced. It makes things easier for me."

Uli nodded, "I know, but still. Link."

Zelda gave a weak smile, "Sure."

Uli was looking at her clasped hands, "Can you save him?" Zelda tried to move her shoulder. It stung, but she hadn't lost movility. "And please don't lie to me," Uli was on the verge of tears, "that child, he's like a son to me..."

Zelda grimmaced when she touched around her wound. "He's a tough one, for sure, but I'll bring him back."

Uli locked eyes with Zelda, evaluated her words, "I sometimes think we might have done this to him."

Zelda peered her ears at Uli's words. She would have prompted the woman to keep on talking, but Uli didn't need that.

"He's an orphan, and he was- is the perfect child. Everyone loves him," Uli had to sniffle a little as her eyes pooled with tears, "he was so good at everything, so flawless." Uli's lip trembled a little, "But what if he just didn't allow himself to be anything but perfect? What if he believed he had to be perfect in order to have a place with us?"

Uli grabbed at her chest and Zelda could feel her heart squeezing, "I'm the closest thing he has to a mother, and if he felt that way-" Uli choked and shook her head. Zelda was at a loss for words.

"What if his only escape was making a deal with a Spirit?" Uli whimpered.

Zelda had feared that. Zelda had believed that to be the case. It wasn't unheard of, she had seen people making deals with Spirits for less than what Uli was telling her. But now that she gradually begun to understand the love of the village for him, the pain his surrogate mother felt. The denial to just let that child go.

"Do you believe him to be capable of leaving you all for that?"

Uli shook her head, cried in a tiny voice, "Never."

And Zelda answered with conviction, "Then he didn't."

That night, Zelda stayed awake looking at the ceiling of her room and feeling her wound pulsing.

When she felt sleep reclaiming her, she recalled the blue eyes of the wolf before falling asleep.

Zelda left before anyone woke the next morning. She could handle any Light Spirit with ease, it was her expertise and pride. And if what she believed was true, then she only had to really concentrate on fighting the Twilight Spirit.

Zelda hid the last symbol on the ground with foliage and retreated under a tree. She took out her notebook and checked everything she had just done. Midna, a fellow witch who specialized in Twilight Spirits was a snotty, know-it-all, mean woman who enjoyed making fun of Zelda. But whenever Zelda asked her a question about Spirits, Midna would answer with as much detail, as many times as needed and with as much patience as Zelda required.  "I can't believe you're one of the top witches, you know?" she would say at the end, but as Zelda checked her notes, Midna had signed at the end of the page with a heart and her name.

Zelda snickered as she reviewed her plan in her mind. The boy, if what Zelda though was right, was being protected by a Light Spirit against a Twilight one. How he had come under a fight between Spirits was of no consequence now, what mattered was that the Twilight Spirit was on the outer layer and the Light Spirit was on the inside layer. At this point the Light Spirit would be fusing with the boy, but Zelda was sure she could take care of that without problem. Or maybe a little, she grimaced, but she could take care of it.

What mattered most were Midna's sigils against Twilight Spirits. Those had to weaken the Spirit so Zelda could talk to Link and wake him up from the stupor.

If he still wanted to get out. And if he was still conscious.

"Won't know till we try," Zelda raised her head and greeted the scarce sunlight that reached the forest ground.

Zelda started to walk without direction, "Bait time."

Zelda heard the wolf behind her after half an hour later. She turned, "Hey, I'm starting to like you, you don't keep a lady waiting."

Zelda crouched down, feigned an attack the wolf barely dodged. "Feeling cocky, buddy?"

The wolf ran to her and Zelda fell back as quickly as she could. She could hear the wolf behind her, inching closer. Zelda could hear the wolf's breath near her head when she jumped a hidden sigil and rolled in the ground, turning to face Link.

The wolf was engulfed in dark colored magic, his movements were halted and the growl that left him was pained. The wolf howled to the sky.

"Link!" Zelda called, "we are getting you out, you hear me!? I need you cooperation!"

The sigil died down and the wolf huffed, he trotted to Zelda and soon was sprinting in her direction.

Zelda gave a couple of steps back, "I never said it would be easy, Link."

The wolf jumped at her when he grew closer, but the sigil captured him mid air and enveloped him again. The magic brought him to the ground, where Link let out a shriek that made Zelda cover her ears.

"I need you to talk to me, all right?" Zelda screamed back, "When you hear my voice, I need you to tell me!"

When the sigil started to die out Zelda sprinted away from Link. The wolf made a last attempt to catch her before she hid, although she could see he was being wary, jumping from side to side and eyeing his surroundings, a sigil activated anyways and the wolf cried out in frustration.

Zelda screamed back her instructions, but the wolf just snapped its fangs together. When the magic died out and Zelda stood still the wolf didn't move. His breathing was hard and he started to walk backwards.

"Link," Zelda warned, but the wolf turned and jumped. A sigil caught him again. Zelda was sure his screams were half pain and half frustration.

The wolf was barely standing when he got caught in another one. Zelda noticed a change immediately, as the scream resembled more and more a hylian instead of a beast.

"Link!"

The sigil died out and the scream continued, the beast was no longer fighting the magic outside, now it was fighting what was inside of it.

"Link!"

The wolf bit at the air once, twice, shook its head and walked gingerly around.

Zelda inched closer, knowing that if the wolf stepped there... another scream filled the air and Zelda could feel her heart beating as she realized the moment was drawing closer.

It lasted one second, one second in which Zelda heard a scream so disturbingly hylian she felt her chest tighten, "Link, my name is Zelda! I need you to-!"

The howl that followed was drawn out and finally, in between fangs closing with strength, the wolf gave a final shake and sat. Worn out, the wolf looked at Zelda without moving a muscle.

"You can't talk?" Zelda whispered, and she realized just how close he had been to changing, "Raise one paw if it's you, Link."

The wolf looked down to its paws and fumbled trying to raise one and not fall to the ground. As he looked back to her he whimpered.

Zelda walked closer and kneeled next to him as she started to draw in the ground a sigil with a stick. "This will hurt, all right?" Link whimpered again, "I will guide you through it, but I need you to listen." Another whimper. Zelda digged the last symbol and kneeled in front of the wolf. "The pain will blind you, I need you to listen," Zelda stressed.

Link shook his head and stood, he bit out once, without strenght, and Zelda hurried to chant her song.

The sigil came to life and Link bit out again, Zelda feared he would lose control but his fangs kept away from her.

The wolf turned black and started to lose its shape. "Link, I need you to picture yourself! You legs, your arms, your torso and head! Every part of you body!"

The black mass grew and shrunk and grew again, its shape was losing control so Zelda shouted, "You can remember you family first! Remember them and then remember yourself! Your name is Link! And they want you back!"

The shadow grew legs that kneeled in front of her, "You're doing good, Link!"

The shadow grew arms that reached for her. Zelda grabbed Link's hands on her own, "You're doing amazing, Link! Keep on going!"

The shadow had hylian form but its head was a formless mist, "Link," Zelda squeezed his hands, "come back, Link."

The sigil died out and the shadow fluttered to the sky before turning its eyes to Zelda. "I better not find you again, you fucker"

The shadow turned and left, wobbling as it got away, and Zelda felt Link falling to her chest. "Woah, there. Link?" Zelda accomodated him on her arms, his eyes were two slits but she could see the same blue she had seen on the wolf. "Hey, buddy," Zelda greeted, Link was in too much pain to do anything but groan, "don't worry," Zelda lit her hand with magic, "one more and you'll be all right."

Before Zelda could even start to search for the Light Spirit inside Link, the boy grabbed her arm and shook his head.

"No," he croaked. His dirty blond hair sticked to his forehead with sweat. Zelda frowned, but Link repeated, "no."

Link's grip was weak at best and Zelda knew he was about to pass out, "You have another Spirit inside you, it can hurt you."

Link tried to shake his head. "No," his lips were chapped and his skin was pale, "protected me."

Zelda's frown deepened but when she asked him what he meant, Link had already passed out. Her hand was glowing gold, filled with magic, but as she rested it on Link's chest she let it die out.

Zelda reached for her dagger out of instinct, "I hear you," she turned to the rustle of leaves and started to chant for her magic.

As if he was on a stroll, as if they were friends, Link walked out of the foliage. "Zelda," he greeted.

Zelda had her hand on her dagger, "Link?"

The blond nodded and stepped closer, Zelda didn't move, "I left a month ago."

"A month and 13 days, yes."

Zelda cocked her head, "I got paid."

"I know, I made sure to repay everyone."

Zelda straightened but squinted her eyes, "Why are you here?"

"I never got to thank you."

"As I said, I got paid. That's thanks enough," Link shifted in his place and Zelda turned around. Not her problem anymore, "I don't know how you managed to find me, but you're welcome."

"Want to see a magic trick?"

Zelda turned to ask Link to stop wasting her time but Link was nowhere to be found and instead a blue eyed wolf - too big to be called a wolf - stood in front of her.

"Now I can talk like this," the wolf said, and Zelda opened her mouth in shock.

Zelda infused magic into her hand, golden magic flowed through her. Link stood and jumped side to side.

"Hey, no! It's fine, we're pals"

"Excuse me?"

"The Light Spirit and I, we're pals!"

Zelda closed her eyes, "Hard to believe."

"Well, how else do you explain this, huh?"

Zelda shook her head and rolled her eyes, "Fine, great trick, I'm leaving."

"This is how I found you, you know? My sense of smell is off the charts."

"Good for you."

"Also," the wolf jumped in front of her and now there stood Link, "I can change at will, and pretty fast, too!"

Zelda snickered at his energy, "Really impressive, Link."

Link locked eyes with her but didn't last long, he stared at the ground instead. "Thanks for sparing them. I lost conciousness so I wasn't sure you had heard me."

Zelda smiled, "Don't worry about that, I'm glad you're safe."

"They tried to protect me, you know, I don't remember much but the Twilight Spirit was trying to take a hold of me and to prevent that the Light Spirit..."

Zelda nodded, "They must have liked you very much to do that, Link."

Link stood there and didn't move.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

Link squirmed under her gaze, "Yes," he whispered.

"What is it?"

Link looked straight, "I want to travel with you."

Zelda snickered but covered her mouth with her hand, "Thanks, but no. I'm good on my own."

Link stood firm, his hand moved around, "I can turn into a wolf and I'm by no means weak," Zelda was shaking her head, "in any of my forms."

Zelda started to walk and Link grew frantic, "I can smell Spirits now and I can handle myself with a sword, I'm a fairly good cook and-"

"And your family, Link?" Zelda interrupted, "your village?"

And that seemed to shut him up real fast. Zelda gave him a couple of seconds and then kept on walking.

"They know," Link answered, "I told them... showed them everything. I repayed every single rupee they spent on me, I talked with every single one of them about my decision and-" Link looked at her but then looked to the ground again, "They know."

Zelda knew the right decision was to tell him, nicely but strongly, that he had to go back. But his eyes were clear and his words were soft and her clairvoyance was telling her that him...

"I'll have you work for your own expenses, you know?" Link lit up immediately, "we can take turns cooking, and I guess your powers will come in handy somehow, but no slacking off-"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"and I'll have you know that other witches might want to have you for themselves, you're a rare specimen as of know, all right?..."

Link couldn't hide his excitement and Zelda couldn't help but be infected by it. She told him about her new- their new mission and the more they walked the more her clairvoyance settled.

And well, The Witch and the Wolf, it had a nice ring to it.

#the legend of zelda #zelink #fanfic #one-shot #the witch and the wolf #it's the first time i use the line thing to separate parts in the text #now im wondering if without it it looked weird on mobile #in pc it looks fine ;A;

[ninemoons42-lestallumhaven]

(you know what? I have three days off, I have fannish things to do, I have time to write, and I have things I want to write. also, I have exactly 97 fic/lets in my Quick Fic Pick tag. you know what that means: time to go for the century!)

(and in honor of @ignyxweek and my best @stopmopingstarthoping, here’s the first one.)

(writing inspiration: here. the song is called “araw-gabi”, which translates roughly to “day and night”.)

Quick Fic Pick 98: threw away ten thousand songs

The last drops of rain slide a chilly path down the back of his neck and it’s all he can do to fight off the sheer prey-animal fear that rolls sickening down his spine -- he hates the feeling of having to look over his shoulder even in these places, in these corridors, all these rooms of stone and fortified glass and -- out beyond them, shivering on the edges of the city -- blue-light protection.

Best not to think about the source of that protection, either, or he’ll find himself having to fight off the dry-heaves as well, and just as he’s ducking into a quiet alcove, just as he’s reaching to turn off one bank of distant overhead lights so he has more shadows to hide in -- he hears it. Tentative, in the whistle of night-scented wind along the cold floors. In the draft and the lingering scents of the last of the autumn blooms, the bracing sea-breezes -- 

He would gladly fill up his lungs with that brine-scented breeze, but he’s drawn to the piano, to the rising music: and it starts out almost gentle, almost tentative, almost drowned out in these dark cavernous halls.

No way he’s letting it go, when it calls to him, when it sets the hooks of sweet powerful melodies into his skin, into his heart, and he takes off almost at a run, trusting his battle-honed senses to send him not into the the raging heart of the fight, but into something far gentler, far far quieter, and even as he runs the notes falter and almost trail off, and then rise again --

Open door, and one single shaft of wavering light, that he crosses in his headlong rush.

When he hears the voice, the startlingly tuneful words in the voice that he knows as a refined accent, calling out strategy and tactics or otherwise swearing up a strangely profane song -- he stops dead, whirls, doubles back.

And Nyx Ulric fetches up in that deserted chamber, wide-eyed on the threshold, eyes straining to pick out the lit candles. The graceful shadowed bulk of the piano, the graceful broad shoulders of the man at the piano, singing, his voice filling in between the notes, as the music is caught between wistful and steadfast.

Arch of that neck, sweep of an arm thrown out to the treble end of the instrument, hair fallen down from its spikes to brush gently against a still-crisp collar. Glint of candlelight catching on crystal-points in the otherwise plain white sleeve, the sparks of reflected light as delicate as the music and the rising voice --

It must be his gasp, reverent and quiet though he tries to keep it down, that catches the attention of Ignis Scientia: and the music stops mid-measure, mid-stanza, and Nyx nearly jolts himself to attention, apologetic. Still whispering, still hoping not to break the spell any further -- he turns away, and says, “I’ll -- leave you to it.”

“Wouldn’t you rather hear the whole thing? I’d like to hear your opinions.”

Quiet, unsteady, careful: all of these things, in Ignis’s voice. 

The same voice that had been singing -- that Nyx badly wants to hear again.

He clears his throat. Scrapes his boots along the floor as he moves closer -- he stops a few feet away out of respect for Ignis’s space -- but that means he gets a closer view of Ignis’s shoulders falling into their easy grace once again, and the music starts over.

The voice starts over: and Nyx still doesn’t understand the words.

But does he need to, when Ignis motions him around in a pause of his left hand -- when Ignis’s mouth pulls into a small but pleased smile, the moment they can see each other. When Ignis’s eyes light up as he sings one more phrase, that’s only become familiar because it seems to be part of the refrain of the song, repeated and finally drawn out into a gentle aching descant.

Echoes falling away into a shivering anticipation of a silence.

He watches Ignis bow his head and -- 

Impulse, instinct, propelling his feet along and he -- can’t fight the pull any more. Can’t fight the insistent line that has led him into Ignis’s orbit, that has left him helplessly orbiting Ignis, that has gotten him into this here and now and he takes a breath, and doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s done with the movement, with falling all into Ignis’s back, the entire front of him onto the breadth of Ignis’s back and shoulders -- and Ignis, the bastard, doesn’t even catch his breath, doesn’t even feel surprised -- only pushes back a little, enough that Nyx feels nothing more or less than caught and known.

Pinned, now, where there’s no more escape and no more room to hide, and he mutters, “This was all you, wasn’t it? You wanted this? You -- ”

“As you wanted me,” is the equally quiet response. “You stole it from me. The truth. The part of my heart I could give away. You stole it from me, and you just -- I fully expected you to throw it all away and laugh and -- that wasn’t what you did at all.”

“I stole it back,” he says. “You had already taken the heart that I still had. That I didn’t know I still had. You took it and I stole your heart back. Fair trade.”

“Is it?” But Ignis is laughing, is moving, is rising -- Nyx doesn’t have time to protest the dislodging because Ignis is somehow clearing the piano bench -- he’d love to know if it was magic or something else altogether, those powerful legs maybe -- except that then Ignis is falling onto him, is kissing him, and Nyx gasps loudly and clutches at any part of him he can reach. 

Fists in Ignis’s shirt, over his heart and his shoulder-blade, hanging on for dear life as the tempest builds and builds and builds between them -- razing him, Nyx, all the way down into his smallest thoughts, his faintest hopes -- he throws his entire heart and his entire mind into the conflagration, and if there’s salt on his cheeks afterwards, if there’s a broken-gentle echo of the song on his mouth, only Ignis will know, and they can keep each other’s secrets and each other’s hearts.

*

(fast-forward, to a tragedy)

Line of flash-fire, and Ignis falls to his knees and screams, the world blurring into ash and dust -- he sees the face of a child, wide-eyed, blue-eyed, brightest smile in the world -- he weeps, then, tasting the bitterness of this thing that might not even be a victory, this everlasting curse of the world he’s about to lose --

More than enough to tear him down and -- he’ll die, he knows this, he’ll die and be judged again -- and be found wanting again -- but first: Ardyn Izunia -- and he gets to his feet. He throws out his hand, throws the wrath of the Lucian Kings and Queens out, scouring him, watching as Ardyn mocks the flame and -- backs away, backs down slowly step-by-step --

“Don’t die.”

Even this strange other-world is falling away from him, dripping away in tears shaped like flame, like ashen stars, and he turns his head.

Shock roars through him, then: not the bravado that he’d mustered to challenge the Lucii and the Ring. Something more profound. Something that leaves him even more shaken.

Braids and ink-lines nearly lost in tangling lines of burned scars and blasted flesh, and a smile that nearly drives him down to his knees again.

But that is indisputably Nyx, holding him, propping him up, and the swirling lines of purple-hued flame adding to his own. 

“Don’t die,” says that ravaged ghost. “I won’t forgive you, if you came to me like this, if you came to me now. You have a duty.”

“All I am now is duty,” and Ignis doesn’t even have the rage to power the words. He only has himself. He only has those broken truths.

“I’m sorry, Ignis, I’m sorry this all happened the way it did, but -- ”

“But. I know,” he says, bitterly. “I know. So -- there’s nothing else for it. Help me, Nyx, help me, guide me, I think I know what the price is -- don’t leave me.”

“Never, Ignis, never leave you, not now -- ” 

The Ring’s power flares out then, last time, last light, and Ignis laughs and cries and -- sings, as Ardyn retreats, the edges of him and the Scourge blurring into ash -- even the memory of the bright child Noctis had been blurs out, too -- but the last thing he ever sees is a tear-stained smile, and ink-arrows in burned skin.

#stopmopingstarthoping #ignyxweek #ignyx week 2018 #ignyxweek2018 #quick fic pick #fic: mine #pairing: ignyx #character: ignis scientia #Character: Nyx Ulric #music and lyrics

[him-e]

do you have any general predictions for Star Wars episode 9?

I’m not too confident in my predictions for IX, because TLJ was one giant curveball thrown at us. Not because we didn’t correctly predict most of it (we did) but because the ending wiped a lot of possible paths out of the way, with no actual cliffhanger to pin speculation on, Snoke dead, and the main storyline from Return of the Jedi already covered without bearing the expected fruit (=Kylo’s redemption). So as far as sw tropes and patterns go, IX is almost uncharted territory. Still, Star Wars is a fairytale, and imo the best way to predict where it’s going is to focus on larger themes and archetypal narratives. The central theme for IX was spelled out in in TLJ very clearly: we are going to win this war not by killing what we hate, but by saving what we love. I’m fairly confident that this theme will be developed through both Rey and Kylo, individually and together.(*)

Kylo Ren’s arc is also the main axis of this trilogy so in order to know where the story is going you have to figure out where he is going. And right now, Kylo Ren moved beyond Vader. Breaking the leash and killing his master did not redeem him, but actually cemented him as the Villain. In TLJ, he went from lost boy to actual god of the underworld. There’s no big bad outranking him. He’s the sole architect of his own misery. You can’t save him by eliminating another player—that ship has sailed with TLJ. At the same time, I have no doubt he’ll redeem himself. So how will he do it? In Beauty and the Beast—which I think is one of the patterns this trilogy was modeled on—the real villain is neither the witch nor Gaston, and it’s certainly not the Beast himself; if there’s a villain at all, it’s the Beast’s darker, uglier nature, whatever is crippling his ability for love and gentleness and self sacrifice, that has to be defeated. Like the Beast, Kylo is responsible for creating the dark castle that has become his prison; the only way to be free is to learn to let go—let go of his anger, let go of his ambition and desire to dominate, let go of his possessiveness towards Rey; let the Beast die in order to break the spell. The Beast is the Kylo Ren persona and everything that persona is connected to and helped create (the First Order, Hux). So I think one of the climaxes of the movie, if not The climax, will be the ~death~of Kylo Ren (and, I hope, the rebirth of Ben Solo).

With that in mind, here are my predictions (bold for the ones I’m relatively certain of, italics for half-predictions-half-wishful-thinking):

there will be a time jump (anything from 6 months to 3 years);  

the Resistance will have partially regrouped and be possibly doing some recruiting work across the galaxy;

we’ll see more new planets and maybe some familiar ones (Tatooine, Coruscant, Naboo? Perhaps we’ll even go back to Jakku)

Poe will be in charge, but there will be tension between him and Rey, maybe between him and Finn too—like, disagreements about military strategies and about Rey’s role in the war. Poe seems to have internalized Holdo’s message on his own terms: where Holdo’s “spark” line was about creation, Poe’s still thinking in terms of destruction. So I think he’ll actually butt heads with Rey, and Finn might be caught in the crossfire. Finn might agree with Poe at first, but eventually his loyalty to Rey will prevail.

(the tension will be eventually reconciled during the third act of the film)

a lightsaber fight between Rey and Kylo (we haven’t had one since TFA so it’s long overdue), to establish their current status as conflicted enemies who think their respective paths are sealed and it can’t be any other way. Maybe this happens when their respective armies are watching so they literally can’t avoid the duel. But the audience already knows they won’t truly hurt each other, so it will be more of a way to have them vent their feelings of hurt and yell a bit and like, “I offered you the galaxy and you betrayed me! “No, you betrayed me!!”, you know.

Reylo angst

more specifically, force bond angst (it would be a complete waste of juicy narrative potential to drop the force bond storyline, although I suspect that JJ will put his personal spin on it, either visually or conceptually). Whether Rey and Kylo went through a time of not having force connections at all (and possibly believing the bond is dead for good) or ignoring them whenever they happened, in IX the radio silence will be broken, and it will be angsty at first.

the bond will be discovered, causing Rey and Kylo to fall from grace among their own ranks. Their loyalty will be questioned, their connection to the enemy feared and regarded with suspicion. People will try to take advantage of it.

Poe/the Resistance will try to corner Rey into using the bond as a trap for Kylo, which will make her furious (paralleling BatB, where the villagers use Belle’s magic mirror to find the Beast and slaughter him);

JJ might partially reframe Rey’s parentage by adding more information and details about why she was sold out by her parents (rey*sky though is dead and will stay dead)

Leia’s death will be a plot point, one way or another. It’s possible we learn about her death in the opening crawl, and the film opens with the aftermath of her death and/or her funeral;

Leia’s death will have a major impact on Kylo’s arc and his redemption

Kylo attending to Leia’s funeral via force bond?

We will see Kylo’s loneliness. It will have shakespearian/greek tragedy vibes. 

He will be plagued by visions à la Hamlet and visited by Force ghosts. Luke, at least. Possibly Snoke (though I assume his wouldn’t be a proper Force ghost but either his toxic aura lingering or a figment of Kylo’s imagination, reliving his abuse over and over again). Less likely, Anakin.

Force ghost!Luke will appear to Rey too. (I feel like Rian didn’t give their relationship proper closure, probably on purpose, so that JJ could do something with it)

Kylo will also have to deal with the emptiness of vengeance. His whole family is dead, like he wanted, and yet he’s still suffering and not feeling whole. 

He’ll also see there’s no point in having power if he has no one to share it with.

the first order might produce a new superweapon, the usage of which will cause extra strife between Hux and Kylo;

speaking of weapons, something will be made with the legacy saber. Either that or Rey finally builds her own saber.

Some new aspect of the Force will be revealed, and/or there will be at least one climatic scene involving a massive use of the Force (in battle or else)

FIRSTORDERBOWL! 

Hux will 100% try to overthrow Kylo and become the anti-antivillain, the “mummer’s dragon” to quote asoiaf, because yes, the real enemy might be inside Kylo’s heart but we still need space battles, lightsaber duels and climatic action sequences. Hux hates Kylo, considers him unworthy, craves the title of Supreme Leader for himself, has personally witnessed how volatile and self destructive Kylo is when it comes to his personal emotions, and now knows his weaknesses (it’s unclear if he knew that Kylo Ren = Ben Solo before, but after seeing Kylo going on a rampage against Luke there’s no way he hasn’t connected the dots). The look Hux gives Kylo when Kylo enters the Resistance base on Crait is that of a man who is already plotting a coup. The novelization also says that Hux has access to secret camera recordings, which probably means he has or is soon to discover footage of Kylo killing Snoke to save Rey and the two of them fighting the praetorian guards. So all the elements are in place for Hux to launch a full blown coup… which Kylo won’t see coming because he thinks Hux is a worthless rat and he’s too busy wallowing in his own misery anyway.

The Knights of Ren should come into the picture. Either they’ll side with Kylo or, surprising, with Hux, which would raise the stakes exponentially as Hux would then have both military power and the support of a team of minor dark side users;

Finn will also have a part to play in firstorderbowl. Even though both TLJ and TFA were lacking on this aspect, I still expect to see his connection to the stormtroopers finally coming to fruition. He might incite a revolt, and even if not all the stormtroopers follow him, this would still significantly cripple Hux’s military power;

Kylo might be imprisoned or forced to flee; this new and definitive betrayal will finally make him see that the First Order is not, has never been the Right Way;

or Hux might try to kill two birds with one stone and turn Kylo over to the Resistance, while also revealing that Rey went to the Supremacy to ally herself with Kylo, so that the rebels lose their trust in her. 

Maybe both Kylo and Rey end up as prisoners of the Resistance, or Rey finds herself in such a predicament that she has no choice but flee with Kylo 

I honestly don’t expect Kylo to, like, actually SIDE with the Resistance—I think the movie will use him as a wild card until the end. But one thing will be clear and it’s that he cares for Rey—at the very least, he’s invested in her safety. 

Narratively, it makes sense that this time around it’s either Kylo who goes to Rey or they meet halfway.

We might see some trippy force bond-related other-dimension sequence.

Vision-related stuff, too. Maybe we’ll finally see what THAT part of the TFA forceback was about (the one with Kylo stabbing the “clan member”), or Rey’s vision of the future will come to fruition (assuming that both didn’t already happen with the throne room scene).

there will be a kiss. 

(more than one, actually. Finn’s totally going to kiss Rose and this time it will be a proper kiss.)

but yes. there will be a reylo kiss.

Kylo’s last stand will involve some sort of self sacrifice. I think even in the end he won’t be able to see a future for himself among the /good guys/, so he’d rather go out in a blaze of glory, saving what he loves.

Rey will save him (or try to).

Kylo Ren will symbolically (or even literally) die 

and be revived through massive force-healing by Rey. And it’s going to be a proper disney-style Beauty and the Beast scene.

Pietà/rebirth imagery. Probably heavy-handed.

(*) You could say that Rey already tried to do the “winning by saving” thing and failed, but I don’t believe for a single second that the sequel trilogy is trying to prove that message wrong. It’s just that in TLJ, Rey and Kylo weren’t desperate enough to really understand it. (or they were too desperate). They were still clinging to visions, to perceived notions of “winning” muddling the selflessness of their actions towards each other—Kylo wanted to share his power with an equal, Rey to secure reformed Jedi Ben Solo to the Resistance’s cause so she doesn’t have to be their “only hope”, a burden that probably scares her. They were both trying to placate their loneliness and *win* the other over, for understandable, but still rather self serving reasons. So their convergence was short lived. In IX, they’ll learn to let go, and THEN they’ll be able to make that selfless act of true, unconditional love.

#anon #asks #sw asks #// #/// #episode ix #sw speculation #sw for ts #reylo for ts