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meadowmood · 3 years

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Ramdula’s Visitor

This the first short story upload I will be doing for all of the work I did for my senior show centering around my own stories and characters. If you would like to view the entire exhibition now, click this link! It includes a number of short stories, illustrations, and character bios for your viewing pleasure!

Read the story below the cut!

(content warning for themes of death, self harm, and suicide) A heavy feeling sunk deep into Beau’s bones that evening. She was sitting on the old woven chair outside of her home, wearing only a thin blouse and trousers. The air was warm, broken only so often by a cool breeze blowing across the meadow in which her home sat. What little light there was began to wane, and faint twinkles of stars began to peek their way into the sky as it darkened....

It was a beautiful night, but Beau was aware of none of it. Not the sky, not the breeze, and not the stars.

Her eyes were glassy and seemed to stare at something non-existent. She had come outside to ground herself, to feel something beside the numbness that consumed her mind and body. instead she felt nothing. She sighed as she sat and stared out into the meadow, the only thing she could hear were the thoughts in her head. She was exhausted by her own mind.

Why did something she couldn’t live without have to be so loud?

It’s been so quiet in the house since Mara died, she thought. Mara had been her closest friend who lived in the house with her. Like so many times before, her mind flashed back to her death. They had been in the university lab cleaning up after class, chatting casually as they swept the floor and wiped down tables when a sudden large flash of light and a tremendous crash rang out. Beau fell flat on the ground under the force of the blast, suffering a few cuts and bruises, but when the smoke cleared and Beau came to, she was still alive and relatively unharmed.

Mara was lying completely still, a single pipe running through her stomach. Dead.

Beau clutched her stomach instinctively as she remembered the sight. Apparently a student had failed to store a number of potions properly, and the resulting mix of chemicals and spells had been enough to cause an explosion. Thankfully no one else had been hurt.

No one except Mara.

Since then, Beau had dropped out of university. She didn’t wait to see how the school would bend over backwards to make it all okay, to pretend it never happened. She just wanted to go home. Except home was empty, and full of Mara’s things and memories of their life together. The life they should have had together. She held back tears as the wounds opened themselves anew and she felt rage within her at how unfair it all was. Why Mara? Why did her Mara have to be taken from her?

She had the sudden intense desire for numbness, for peace from her emotions. She couldn’t go back inside, nothing but hurt lay in there.

She stared up at the meadow and her eyes landed on the forest that lay beyond it. She had never ventured into that forest herself, but people said that a reclusive spirit resided there, and Mara had always told her to be wary of it as the spirit could be malevolent. But Mara wasn’t here anymore, and whatever was in that forest might hurt her, hurt her enough that it would take all of the thoughts away, all of the pain. It would be quick, and she wouldn’t have to live in a home without Mara anymore. She wouldn’t have to live at all.

Before she could consider anything else she was running, the air growing colder as she neared the forest, the biting chill barely registering as she ascended the hill toward the trees. As Beau reached the treeline, breathing heavily from the run, she stared up at the massive pines, and before she could bear to give it a second thought, she ran straight into the trees.

Beau ran frantically through the forest making a tremendous amount of noise, breaking twigs and cracking dry leaves. Eventually she found herself making her way down a hill, its steep incline covered in wet moss and slippery stone. The slope caught her by surprise, causing her to fall onto her hands and knees. She yelled out in pain as she hit the forest floor, her skin stinging from the rough ground. She bit back tears as she held up her shaking hands, now covered in small cuts and debris. Before she could try and stand up she heard the footsteps of something large and heavy approaching. She turned to see a huge black dog. It was ginormous, easily meeting her eyes as she kneeled. Its long silky fur and pointed ears almost making it look like a grounded bat. Beau screamed and held up her hands in front of her, her body turning numb as fear washed over her. The dog stood still, and as she let her gaze wander from its piercing stare she noticed a great number of dogs behind it, standing just as still as their leader.

Beau broke the silence “KILL ME THEN!!” she screamed, waiting for it to attack. The dog simply stared back at her and tilted it’s head, as though it was trying to understand her. “DO IT!” she shrieked, almost pleading for the stupid beast to do something. “Go on! KILL ME!”

The dog walked closer to her and opened its mouth, its teeth white and menacing in the evening light. She flinched, waiting for the pain of the bite to come, but instead it grabbed onto her blouse. Beau put her hands down, confused, as the dog gently pulled on her shirt. A moment later she felt the other dogs behind her prodding her back, pushing her forward as the lead dog continued to tug on her shirt. She shakily got herself to her feet and began walking as the dogs continued to pull her, shuffling noisily as they guided her farther into the woods.

Where are they taking me?

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As the sky darkened and the air chilled, Matthias stirred. He raised his head among the sea of black fur of his packmates and pricked his ears up at the sound of his master stirring in the floors above him. He jumped up and yipped at his pack to get up. The dogs all sleepily got to their feet, noisily ascending the stairs from the basement toward the castle throne room. They met her in the hall at the top of the stairs, Matthias running to his master’s side as she walked the boisterous pack down the hall. He kept pace with her as he stared up at her face. She was somber, as usual. Matthias tried to picture with difficulty the last time she looked truly happy. She made a noise and motioned toward the front of the castle. Matthias knew this to mean she wanted him to patrol the grounds. He barked and led his pack out of the castle, across the drawbridge and into the dark forest.

As they reached the edges of the territory Matthias pushed his snout to the ground, forcing a myriad of smells into his nostrils. Images of running deer, rabbits, squirrels, and songbirds all flashed in his mind as he patrolled the outer edges of the grounds. His large black paws produced deep impressions in the soft soil as he padded along, the rest of his pack following close behind. They kept their ears pricked and tails held high, ready to alert their master of any intruders. The forest air was cool and quiet, the crisp air felt good on his thick coat, energizing him as he led his pack around the forest’s perimeter.

The silence suddenly broke as a twig cracked in the distance and the sound of something making its way into the forest shot through Matthias’s ears. Crackling underbrush, heavy breathing, and panicked footsteps tip-toed their way into his mind as he located the figure. He signaled for his pack to remain quiet. Together they walked low to the ground toward the mysterious visitor. As they approached he could see them more clearly. They were a small creature, running on two legs and heading toward the castle. He titled his head, observing them struggle and stumble through the dense underwood of the forest. They didn’t seem to know where they were going, and they certainly didn’t seem dangerous. Suddenly the creature tripped and let out a yelp as they fell forward. Matthias ran to the noise, closely followed by his fellow dogs toward the fallen figure. As he neared them he slowed his pace and approached them carefully, unsure of what to do until they turned suddenly and faced him, letting out another yell. He held still, taking in everything he could see of the figure in front of him. They appeared frightened, eyes wide and fearful as they held their hands in front of their face, ready to defend themselves. This was not a dangerous intruder, he concluded.

The creature suddenly let out a sound, a garbled noise he found hard to understand. They were not speaking an animal language. He stood up straight and tilted his head, trying to at least make out a command or a familiar word. The figure repeated themselves, louder and more desperately this time, and he almost winced at the intensity of their cry. The noises were similar to his master’s, and he wondered if she could possibly understand the visitor.

He walked forward slowly and opened his jaws, the figure flinching as they expected to be bitten. He instead clasped the cloth that decorated them and pulled them forward. His pack realized what he was doing and did the same, some gently pushing on her back encouraging them to move forward while the others began to bark and yip as they walked ahead. The figure stood up shakily, and with the dog’s gentle motivation they made their way to the castle. The creature was slow, and shook as they walked, but with a good bit of gentle pushing and encouragement Matthias was soon able to see the silhouette of the castle peeking over the trees. He ran ahead and let out a deep, haunting howl. As he did, a heavy clanking rang out into the night as a drawbridge lowered itself over a wide moat surrounding the building. He turned and called back to his pack, who excitedly pulled the visitor into the castle, anticipating meeting their master.

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Ramdula walked solemnly through the halls of her castle, tightly gripping the hilt of her sword as her large group of black dogs padded happily behind her. She entered the throne room and sighed deeply. She was barely awake and it was only early evening.

“Matthias,” she called to her lead dog, pointing to the front of the castle. “Begin your nightly patrols. I am heading to the library.” The dogs perked up at the command and headed to the castle gate, barking excitedly as they thundered across the drawbridge into the trees.

Ramdula watched them go and drew the drawbridge up again with a wave of her hand, heading toward the other end of the room and through a large archway. After making her way down a dark spiral staircase she entered the library, a huge, airy, and circular room residing in the underground beneath the castle. The air was cold and dry as she scanned the dark wooden shelves, flickering fireflies illuminating Ramdula’s path down the corridors, flittering soundlessly around her head. The library was like a maze only she knew how to navigate, the endless twisting rows filled to the brim with books, journals, and manuscripts. Sitting in between these shelves were old items of previous residents. Armor of fallen enemies, weapons, garments, and treasures of old all passed her as she looked for something interesting. After 345 years of life, she had just about read everything the library had to offer twice over, and she was immensely bored. With a glazed expression she scanned the shelves she had stared at for centuries, looking for something, anything, that she might have missed, forgotten, or looked over.

Nothing.

Everything was familiar. Everything was uninteresting.

With a heavy sigh she reached for a sizable book with a soft red velvet cover, now faded and worn at the edges. It was a book of local folklore and myths, the stories it told holding a special place in Ramdula’s heart. They were her favorite in her younger years. She flipped through the yellowed pages, recalling every word as they flashed passed her eyes. She tucked the book under her arm, ready to take it somewhere comfortable to read when she heard a howl. It was Matthias wanting to come back in. It didn’t sound like an alarm, perhaps he was looking for something to eat before patrolling. Ramdula rolled her eyes and focused her magic on lowering the drawbridge, walking toward the spiral staircase as she did so in order to climb her way back to the throne room.

As she walked down the hallway and turned the corner around the stone arch, she met a sight she never would have expected, not even if she had lived to be a million years old. A young, teary-eyed, bedraggled looking girl was standing in the middle of her throne room, staring at her like she was on trial for murder. She stood absolutely still for a moment and then looked down at Matthias, who had walked up to her and sat down at her feet, tongue hanging out of his smiling mouth.

“Matthias, dear, what exactly have you dragged into my home?” she sighed, motioning toward the visitor. The black hound simply stared back at her, shifting his feet in excitement. Ramdula sighed again, and peered into his mind to see what happened. Within it she saw him patrolling, the figure running into the forest, their fear, and Matthias desire for understanding.

“Hm.” she said, unamused, and turned to the girl, who went rigid under her gaze.

“Hello…little...person,” she began. “You have mistakenly wandered into my home, I presume, and have been escorted by my familiars who for some reason think,” she glared down at a perfectly unaware Matthias, tongue still lolling from his mouth, “I will have something to say to you besides ‘please leave.’ I am not sure why they have brought you here but you need not stay. Head along home now, no harm done, just…” she waved her hands in a shooing motion at the girl, “get along. Matthias can show you out.”

Ramdula waited for a response, expecting the visitor to appear relieved at her dismissal, but to her unfortunate surprise the girl looked even more upset than before.

“W-what?” she stammered, eyes going wide with shock. “That’s it? you’re not going to kill me?” She began to sniffle, tears began pouring down her face.

“Oh, I feel so stupid, why did I even come here?” The dogs crowded around her and began to whine, licking the tears off of her face as she sunk to her knees.

“I’m s...so sorry I don’t know why I came here,” she cried. “I guess I’ll go now, and go…h-h… ho...” A fresh new flood of tears burst from her eyes as she tried to finish her sentence instead crouching forward and covering her face.

Ramdula stood still, looking especially uncomfortable in the presence of this sobbing creature. She gripped the hilt of her sword in her palm and rubbed it nervously as she pondered how she could rid herself of this small, distressed child without making them even more upset. She had already asked them politely to leave, she was not sure what else she could do about this. She had a sudden intense desire to be back in the library.

“Child, look. Listen please. I am not going to kill you unless you give me a reason to, which you have not done thus far so, um…please don’t cry, you may go back home unharmed,” Ramdula said, stepping a little closer. The girl looked up at her, her eyes swollen and red, she looked quite a mess.

“Well if you’re not going to kill me then I am not sure why I am here. I’m not sure what I’m doing at all,” the girl admitted. Ramdula’s expression went from uncomfortable to confused, her brows furrowing as she tried to understand.

“You came here..to be killed?” she asked the girl, brows furrowed. “By me?”

The girl nodded, and Ramdula tried to think of what in Lun’s name she could be talking about. That was it. She needed this incomprehensible little creature to give her a straight answer this very second.

“Matthias, go fetch the crackers and tea from the basement.” Matthias scampered away as she looked at the rest of the pack. “You, blankets. You, a kettle. And you, cups. We are going to be here a while.” The girl uncovered her face and looked around as the dogs dispersed, scattering down the hallways and descending stairs in search of the items they had been assigned.

“Child, it seems you have a story you need to tell, and you are going to be a right mess until you get it out. So first,” Ramdula said, crossing her long legs as she sat on the floor, “tell me your name.”

The girl wiped her eyes and tried her best to sit up straight. “Beau, Beau Conway” she said quietly.

“Lovely to meet you, Beau Conway. My name is Ramdula, and this is my castle.”

Before long, the dogs all returned with their items (coated in copious amounts of drool), and they had set up quite the cozy atmosphere in the throne room with blankets, hot tea, and crackers. Ramdula conjured a magical fire in between them, and the warmth of the flames breathed new life into the throne room. With a cup of hot tea and several large dogs lying on her lap, Beau explained everything. She told Ramdula about Mara, how she died, and how everything had been tainted by her memory: her home, her school, and even her own mind. She couldn’t escape all of the pain and feelings that surrounded her. She had just wanted it all to stop. The thoughts... the hurt… the memories… she had just wanted to feel numb.

“A-and I saw your forest, and remembered what Mara said, that there might be a malevolent spirit inside, that might hurt me,” she said quietly, “so I ran inside hoping something would end me before I gave it too much thought,” she sobbed, her eyes welling up with tears. “A-and you haven’t hurt me, you’ve been so nice, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have come here and bothered you so much. I’ve just been stupid, I-I’m sorry” she started crying again, and buried her face in her hands. Ramdula looked at her, having remained quiet the entire time Beau had shared her story, and twirled her tea spoon in her cup as she spoke.

“Sometimes, we cannot control where our lives take us. I do not blame you for coming here,” she said, setting her cup on the ground carefully. “However, if you truly are seeking death, then I am sorry. That is something I cannot grant you,” Ramdula said solemnly. She stood up and stretched her huge wings out to their full length before folding them back into their resting position.

“I cannot claim to know exactly what to tell you, Beau Conway. But I can say if your home is a source of pain for you, you may stay here for the night, and decide if you would like to return in the morning.”

Beau lowered her head, still sniffling.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For everything.”

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Beau was led by Ramdula to a spare room, a journey that took them down a myriad of twisting stone hallways. “The dogs can stay with you while I perform my duties for the night.” She looked down at Matthias, a slight smile on her lips as she looked down at him. “You have the night off, lucky dog.”

She bid them all goodnight and disappeared down the hall, heading somewhere unknown. Beau entered the room and saw that it was a plainly decorated stone study with a large bed at the far wall. She crawled under the covers, still a little dazed from that evening's events. As she got herself comfortable, the dogs climbed onto the bed with her and curled up on every inch of the blankets that she didn’t occupy. She started to doze to the sounds of the dog's heavy breathing. Her thoughts unoccupied by grief as she drifted peacefully into a deep slumber.

Before Beau knew it, morning had come, and she awoke in the same place she had fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream, she realized. She sat up, rousing the dogs that were sleeping on the bed with her and rubbed her eyes as she made her way to the door. The dogs, now fully awake, all crowded around her, waiting patiently for the door to be opened. She turned the knob and was nearly pushed out into the hallway by the rush of excitement of the hounds as they ran down the long hall. Matthias stayed behind, nudging her gently in the right direction, and when they reached the throne room Ramdula was nowhere to be found. Matthias put his nose to the floor and barked at Beau to follow him, leading her past the archway down into a spiral staircase.

The dogs thundered down the stairs into the dark underground, Beau following them closely behind. As she reached the bottom the narrow corridor opened into a huge circular room filled with endless rows of shelves, and she found she had come into a huge library. Right in front of her in a massive armchair sat Ramdula, reading a large red book with worn edges.

“Ah,” she said, closing the book and setting it aside, “you are awake.” She stood up to her full height, and for the first time since meeting her Beau realized how tall the spirit was, towering above her by at least several feet. “How was your sleep?” Ramdula asked, leaning down slightly to meet her eye.

“Good!” Beau replied, she reflected momentarily at how well rested she felt, her mind was the clearest it had been in months. “Really good, actually, best I’ve had in awhile. Thank you again for being so kind,” she said gazing into the spirit’s eyes.

“Do not dwell on it, it was nothing at all,” Ramdula replied. She turned around, picking up the red book again. “Do you like to read?” she asked.

“Very much so,” said Beau, admiring the books as she did. “This library is stunning.”

“Yes, it is quite a sight for someone who is unfamiliar with its contents isn’t it?” Ramdula said, sighing deeply. “Unfortunately, I have read every word contained within these walls, so I cannot say I share the same awe you feel now.” She held out the book she grasped in her hand to Beau, allowing her to admire it. “This one I don’t seem to tire of easily. It is a collection of stories you might find enjoyable. I definitely did as a young pup.”

Beau held out her hands and grasped the book tenderly, almost afraid it would turn to dust in her hands. “Wow, thank you,” she murmured, enchanted by the book's intricate gold leaf cover. As she stared at it, an idea crept into her mind “Would you like more? Books that is. I have some at home.”

Ramdula perked her ears up, sporting an unfamiliar expression of child-like excitement. “More books you say? Now that sounds interesting.”

Beau grew more enthusiastic, happy she had piqued the spirit’s interest. ”Yes they are! And I would like to thank you for what you have done for me. I can bring some by tonight, would you want that?”

Ramdula paused, considering the offer. “I would, actually,” she said contemplatively. “I am not very good around regular humans and the like, so I haven't added any new books to the library in centuries. It’s a shame, since it is a tradition of my ancestors to build the knowledge this place holds.” She stared out into rows of shelves before turning back suddenly. “You said you slept exceptionally well last night?” she asked, peering at Beau before continuing. “Let’s say you wanted to sleep here for the foreseeable future. When you did, I wouldn’t mind you bringing me a book in exchange for a night’s rest in the castle...hm?”

Beau’s eyes widened as the proposition sunk in. “You wouldn’t mind?”

Ramdula shook her head. “On the contrary, Beau Conway, you would be doing me a favor in exchange for small effort on my part. I would be delighted if you accepted.”

Beau’s eyes shone with happiness at the idea, a wide smile breaking out across her face. “Yes, YES! I can definitely do that. I will be back tonight with all the books I can carry! Thank you THANK YOU!” she cried. Beau ran back up the stairs, book in hand and ready to head home, this time not dreading what she would see inside.

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Ramdula watched her go chuckling as she disappeared up the stairs. What a peculiar person she was. She had an inkling that the most interesting thing Beau would bring back tonight was herself. She had to admit she didn’t just want the books, though they were quite tempting. She had actually enjoyed talking to someone besides the dogs for once, and to her surprise, looked forward to having company over for dinner.

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Matthias listened to the visitors footsteps slowly fade away up the staircase. He was happy to see they weren’t afraid anymore. He stared up at his master’s face, and for the first time in a long time, he saw content in her eyes.

#writing #short story #original characters #This is Ramdula!!#Also known as my personal favorite character :)#Really hope you guys like the story!!!#also make sure you read the stuff I uploaded yesterday to make sure you aren't confused on what's happening

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

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Onion Tears || Morgan, Ariana, Deirdre, Lydia

TIMING: The recent past, not long after Morgan took care of the murderous alchemist Jo, before Lydia’s attack.

LOCATION: The woods

PARTIES: @deathduty @inspirationdivine @letsbenditlikebennett @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and her friends mourn the dead.

CONTAINS: Mild gore, ritualized self-harm

The moon smiled down from the pink sunset sky, pale and slight as a white shadow. Morgan hoped that if there really was such a thing as a caring universe, it approved of the proceedings. The much decayed remains of Coraline Adams had been wrapped in a cotton shroud and bundled onto the wood pyre, the rest of the remains recovered from the storage unit were strewn around her. In another world where supernaturals could bury their dead properly without raising brows or suspicions, there might have been separate ceremonies and rites for each of them. But the alchemist hadn’t cared enough to label her specimens by the person she gathered them from, only by material. Banshee nails in one jar. Nix scales in another. Vampire teeth, Mara eyes, wolf pelts, and fused bones, all ordered except in a way that would help Morgan make them into people again. Morgan circled the clearing again for unwanted mushrooms and teenagers daring each other to go deeper into the trees. Gulls squealed, squirrels foraged, life went on. But there had been enough of humans bumping and breaking their way through life for one stretch. Morgan wanted to give them a reprieve from watching their backs all the time, and for the dead to have a moment with their own.

She spread out a tiered tray of refreshments, kindling, and the nice big matches she had once used for her own sacred rituals, scented to help guide what was left of the dead’s souls to wherever they needed to go. It felt wrong, somehow, to slip into a hospitality mindset, but if Ariana and Lydia were going to help witness the rites and pay their respects as much as anyone could, they might as well be comfortable.

One of their guests approached the clearing. “Hey, we’re almost ready,” she said.”But you should come in and have some water or wine if you want any.”

Hearing of another dead werewolf only made her heart feel heavier. After Ariana had discovered werewolves were being killed for their organs, it only furthered her sense of unease to know someone else was doing weird magic experiments. What the actual fuck was wrong with people? It wasn’t something she could wrap her head around, but she hoped paying them respects would help them find peace in their afterlife. The setting sun painted the sky in colors she couldn’t quite distinguish, but the moon was rising. Perfect for the wolf of the bunch, All the fellow supernatural beings who had been killed for whatever this witch was doing deserved better. Maybe they couldn’t change the past, but they could try to keep their memory alive. Help them find peace. She walked to their meeting spot and saw Morgan was the first one there. Not at all surprising. There were even refreshments set up though she found she wasn’t entirely hungry at the moment. She gave a small wave as she approached, “Hey, Morgan. I’ll pour some water for myself. Save the wine for Deirdre. She really loves wine.” The words felt awkward and it was hard to navigate through what she was feeling.

Lydia almost paused when she saw Ariana, the wannabe thief that had been snooping through her property that one time. Mutual friend or not, Lydia did not like the girl in the slightest, even at a funeral. As such, she immediately decided to ignore her for the whole evening, walking over to Morgan with a small smile. “Wine would be lovely. I’m grateful you put in all the effort.”

Morgan opened her arm out to the young wolf when she arrived and wrapped her up in a hug. “That she does,” she agreed. “But, tiny exceptions can be made for you if you change your mind after. Thanks for coming.” She didn’t know what else to say, if wolves had a kind of kinship between each other that made condolences appropriate, or if it was just the chill of seeing the remains of someone who could have been her.

At the sound of Lydia’s approach, she released Ariana to hydrate herself and turned to her fae friend. “I’m glad you came,” she said, pouring a glass and carrying it over. “This is the least I could do. If things were different, maybe there’d be more. But if things were different, maybe there wouldn’t be a need for this kind of service in the first place.” Her eyes flitted to the pyre, gauging the arrangement of the remains. Should she space them out more? Or arrange them more artfully? The nails should probably be laid out, instead of clustered, maybe… Morgan stopped herself with a tight smile. It did not matter. It absolutely did not matter. She knew better than anyone how much it didn’t matter, knew that it was just the last moment, terrible or not, and then sleep. This was just for their own guilt and sorrow, their own intentions in the universe. “Deirdre’s just getting ready to perform the rites. And I’ll spread the ashes myself later. Oh, and you should meet our friend Ari! She’s here in honor of the wolves we’re laying to rest today as well.”

Somehow, despite her cool skin, Morgan always had a certain warmth to her. It brought a small smile to her face and Ariana welcomed the hug from her. Once she stepped back, she laughed weakly and answered, “I think I’ll be okay without the wine. But I am sorry you had to find all of this. It’s really… Upsetting.” She looked down at her feet and heard someone else approaching. Sniffing the air she realized it wasn’t Deirdre, but it was familiar. Her eyes widened when she realized it was Lydia. Her heart sank. The actual last person she wanted to see. Especially at a funeral. Especially when she was slowly killing someone she’d grown to care for. It took a conscious effort to keep from balling her fists, from glaring. Today wasn’t about Lydia. Hell, it wasn’t even about Ace. It was their duty to honor the fallen members of their community in hopes of them being able to find some sort of peace after their violent deaths. “Maybe one day there won’t be a need for services like this,” she said quietly. Part of her wanted to slink away as Morgan introduced her to Lydia. It was hard to pretend she didn’t hate her with every fiber of her being. It was doubtful that her feeding had to include keeping humans for prolonged periods of time until they finally died. Through gritted teeth, she responded, “We know each other already.” She tried to soften her features, but it came across a bit awkward. “But thank you, Morgan. I really appreciate you and Deirdre for doing all of this.”

Deirdre knew better than most what a fae funeral should have looked like. There should have been more in attendance, the sound of instruments trilling through the air under the sound of sombre lilting. She had whispered her apologies to Coraline’s body on the way to the clearing, and she whispered it by her again. This observance would have to be stripped, for the sake of safety--the fae could not be made privy to the horrors committed, their penchant for vengeance would prove too reckless. And the other supernatural reduced to their parts had practices and rites that Deirdre wasn’t the faintest bit familiar with. She pulled at her funeral dress---once white, now stained with the soot of every funeral she’d attended---was a muddy grey, patterned in blotches. The delicate lace detailing was a stark black, and the only thing about the dress she liked. Deirdre tugged at it again, then pulled her dark robe tighter around her, trying not to drop the rod of iron she held wrapped up in cloth in one hand, and the knife she had in the other. She slipped the rod back into the pocket of her robe, and approached the rest of the group silently. “There will always be a need for services like this,” she hissed, irritable under the stress of autumn. Irritable given the event they were all in attendance for. She would apologize to Ariana for her shortness later, but for now, she didn’t bother. “No matter what this world is. There will always be death, and where there is death, there is suffering.” She nodded towards Lydia, and noted Ariana’s tenseness. “You’re supposed to drink at these things. Like Lydia.” She spoke almost with an air of resentment, an air that reared itself now, and had neglected to show on the way over. The forest held the faint drift of mushrooms, she would explain to Morgan later in apology, but for now, she didn’t bother. For now, she wasn’t happy. “You’re supposed to do a lot of things…” Deirdre sighed, “are we good to start?”

“We met through one of her pack members, as it happens,” Lydia replied airily, much better at faking politeness that Ariana did, the little minx. She was practically showing the whole world how much she disliked Lydia, when Lydia was the one who had been trespassed on! She hadn’t been the most enthusiastic at Ariana’s soccer game, but then who would have been? She hadn’t earned this animosity in the slightest. Noting Morgan’s tight smile as the way her gaze flitted around the pyre, Lydia tilted her head in genuine concern. “How are you holding up, Morgan?” The person Lydia was really interested in, though, was Deirdre, in her murky grey dress and her dark robe. She looked irritable in the same way that Lydia’s chest ached every time she glanced at the pyre. Her comment to Ariana was strange, certainly, even more so with that tone, and Lydia couldn’t help but gravitate closer to her. “I think so, my dear,” she said softly, standing at Deirdre’s side.

Morgan gave Deirdre a look as she chastised their young friend. You’re doing it again. Bring it down. She had been warned about what the forest might do to her banshee this time of year, and on some of their walks she had grown peevish, but Ariana was special to both of them and-- Morgan put the thought aside. Fucking mushrooms. She gave Ariana’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’re doing everything just fine,” she said softly. “Don’t mind her today,” she added in a whisper. She smiled with relief and gratitude at Lydia, who was handling the pull of the mushrooms much better. Two grumpy fae were more than she wanted to contend with. “Well as can be expected. My condolences to you and your people.” She did not know if all fae believed as banshees did, that there was nothing after except the comfort of darkness and nothing, or if it would make anything better for Lydia to know that’s just what she’d experienced before she came back. Smiling again--she didn’t know what else to do--Morgan sidled up to Deirdre’s other side. She touched her arm gently for a moment and nodded. “We’re good, babe,” she said.

In the past, Deirdre had always discouraged her drinking as she was underaged and it left Ariana very confused. At least being left perplexed by Deirdre made it easier to ignore the fact she’d very much like to rip Lydia apart. She turned to Deirdre, eyebrows knit together in confusion, and answered, “Sorry? You usually don’t like me having alcohol since I’m underaged.” Then it was very apparent her words were entirely misinterpreted. Death would always be part of life and Ariana knew that, but against all reason, she had hope that maybe one day the supernatural and humans could coexist. “That’s not what I-- nevermind,” she began and decided against trying to explain herself. Today wasn’t about her. Today wasn’t about any of them. Today was for those who fell before their time in a manner that was far too cruel. It was a little easier to relax and let Deirdre’s odd behavior go with Morgan’s always comforting words. Somehow, she always knew just what to say. Even putting this whole thing together was something that seemed so incredibly… Morgan. She hugged her leather jacket around herself more tightly trying not to look to Lydia again. Trying to ignore her presence for Morgan’s sake more than anything else because surely she couldn’t interact with her and pretend like everything was fine. Not when she had Ace locked away in her home like that was just a totally okay thing for people to do. She wondered if Morgan and Deirdre even knew. She took a few steps towards the pyres and asked Morgan, “So how are we doing this?”

Deirdre grew angrier every time her eyes fell to Coraline’s wrapped body on the pyre, then as she glanced around at their empty funeral. Coraline died wrong, would she be honored that way too? Those people in jars; would their memory be the four people who dared to remember them? She boiled as Lydia moved to her side, reminded of what injustice she was committing to their community, and then how badly she wanted to ask how she’d met Ariana, exactly, and why the younger girl seemed so tense with her. I think Ariana is jealous of your beauty, she would offhandedly remark to Lydia later, finding it the only logical explanation. But if Lydia served as a reminder of all that she was doing wrong, Morgan was the opposite. Deirdre relaxed reflexively near her, anger dissipated. She took Morgan’s hand and squeezed it, then she took a step forward, glanced at Coraline’s body, and thought of everything that was wrong again. Her mind continued to plague itself with questions even as she pulled a large purple onion from her robe. “Normally, there’s a human sacrifice. Or--punching bag, if you will. So the fae can exact their anger, right the wrongs, have fun, harvest an arm to use at their next poker game---that sort of thing.” She shook the onion, the pupils of its misplaced googly eyes bobbled. The lips Deirdre had painted on were beginning to flake off. She hated this just as much as she thought it was stupid; which was very. “Considering humans and onions have about the same mental capacity, and taking into account our present company, I thought I’d forgo the human and just use this instead.” She held the onion out, “before I begin the ceremony, would anyone like to partake in hurting the sacrificial onion? And if you will please, just imagine it’s begging for its life and for you to stop. Which, coincidentally, is exactly how Coraline died.” She shook the onion again. “Any takers?”

In the mirrored district, for that poor, nameless Lampade, they had done this with the human. Lydia hadn’t taken a shot then - that kind of violence didn’t bring her any pleasure, it never had, and she’d been to more such funerals with the sacrificial onion in its place. Unfortunately, she had been to many funerals that required such a sacrifice in the first place. She looked to Deirdre, trying to read all the facets of her face right now, all that pain and anger, and the tension in her hand as she squeezed Morgan’s. Lydia wondered how often, exactly, Deirdre had had to do these rites. How much she’d seen while handling the body and these jars. “I’ll start,” Lydia said solemnly, taking the purple onion in her hands. She looked at the googly eyes and lips, the corner of her lips twitching. As far as she knew, the googly eyes were not tradition, but they did add a certain something to the proceedings. She shook the onion once, until the eyes were roughly pointed to her. Raising one hand, Lydia stabbed one googly eye with her golden acrylic nail. The eye popped off, lost into the woods. The onion skin crackled and crunched as she sank her nail deeper into the flesh of the onion, and then dragged it down, leaving a long slit in her nail’s wake. Lydia twisted her nail, and pulled up at the seam, tearing up the onion. She ate the onion parts she’d torn off the onion, as was tradition, and handed it back to Deirdre. “May Coraline find peace in this onion’s suffering.”

Morgan couldn’t name what it was about how Deirdre handled the sacrifice that filled her with pride and affection. Maybe it was the earnestness of the googly eyes and the painted lips, trying to fill this need for adequacy, for giving enough to the dead. Maybe it was the way she squeezed her hand, emerging from the haze of her grief and the mushrooms hiding deeper in the forest to be herself, to feel and to try when she felt some of these losses as if she’d known them herself. Whatever the reason, it was almost enough to make Morgan feel like this was going to be okay and everything had been fixed fair. She took the battered onion gently from Deirdre, fingers brushing hers, and cradled it against her chest a moment, the juice dripping down the front of her white cotton dress. Her thoughts were with the dead supernaturals, the comfort they could not have and the hours of pain they could not be saved from and the days of recovery that they could not get. She had to turn down towards her shadows to remember Jo. Remember how she’d thrashed in Miriam’s grip. How she had called them pigs. How close she had been to taking another supernatural who’d trusted her. And as she thought, she dug her hands deeper into the onion flesh. Deeper, as she tried to imagine what exactly Miriam had done to the woman, exactly how long she had lasted in the two days she was kept, and whether any of it was close to enough when there weren’t even enough remains left for separate pyres.

Half the onion exploded in her grip, spraying skin and juice and soft clumps of fresh into the air. They landed in her hair and dress, sprinkled down on the earth like rain. At any other time, Morgan would have been embarrassed, but it wasn’t that sort of occasion. She took a piece from the clumpy wreck in her hand and chewed it thoughtfully, wiping her face and hair from the mess. She held out the remnants for Ariana or Deirdre to have a turn with, murmuring, “May Coraline find peace in this onion’s suffering,” And in the suffering of her killer.

While Ariana wasn’t sure what to make of the customs Deirdre spoke of, she could definitely get behind murking an onion right now. Especially if it meant honoring the fallen fae, werewolves, and other supernatural creatures they had pieces of in the pyre. Now wasn’t the time to pay Lydia any mind at all. She didn’t deserve any of the focus that was intended for the deceased. Twigs cracked underneath her combat boots as she reached to take the mostly exploded onion from Morgan. The half that was still intact was now in her hands now. The googly eyes were long gone now, but the painted on lips were still half there. To honor the wolf here today, she’d have to embrace the wolf in herself. Not that this differed from any other day, but there was no pressure to live up to human norms around Deirdre and Morgan. A low growl echoed around their clearing and Ariana gave the onion a stern look before sinking her teeth ferociously into it. While she kept her human form, she mimicked the way she tore into a deer’s throat every full moon. She ripped away at the rest of the layers of the onion with her teeth, living bits and pieces on the floor. There was little care for the fact her black dress now smelled like onion. Onion juice dripped down her chin and she let it. A deer would be more appropriate, but she’d treat the onion with all the ferocity she had in her. Only small, jagged pieces of onion remained in her hands. Her gaze remained stony as she solemnly said, “May their memory and fierceness live on in all of us.”

Ariana looked to Deirdre momentarily before adding, “I’d like to add a bit of werewolf tradition in.” While she didn’t know the full ins and outs, Ulfric had explained his moon shrine to her as well as some of the aspects of the religion his pack back in Norway had followed. She looked up to the moon, softly glowing in the sky with sunset hues she couldn’t perfectly make out all around it. She raised her onion soaked hands and recited, “O Great Diana, goddess of the moon, night, and hunt-- please guide those who have fallen to peace. May they find enlightenment under the soft glow of moonlight from here on out.” It wasn’t perfect and she wasn’t sure she got the words right. Actually, she was positive she hadn’t. She made her own prayer loosely based on ones Ulfric had shared with her previously, but she hoped it helped their souls find peace in death.

What Deirdre hadn’t expected was the seriousness with which her admittedly idiotic sacrifical onion was taken with. She expected some resistance to which she could explain her train of thought: they couldn’t use an animal, because animals were inherently innocent and that would defeat the point. But she watched instead, humbled, by Lydia, Morgan and Ariana all harming an onion in Coraline’s name--she did imagine that an animal would have been tastier than a raw onion though. She reached out to pick bits of onion out of her girlfriend’s hair and off her nice dress. “Beautiful words, Ariana,” she smiled, having forgotten her earlier animosity. Funerals were not merited by their turn out, she remembered, but the compassion of those who did observe them. Odd as the onion was, Deirdre could only hope that Coraline would see three people who were angered for her, and desired to bring her peace. With her thoughts at peace again, she remembered why exactly she was here to begin with and her anger with herself disappeared. She had an onion to thank for that. The banshee shook her head, drawing her hand back from Morgan and pulling a small rod of iron wrapped up in thick wool out of her robe. “I think I can start now.” She stepped back and moved to the pyre. “Coraline Adams died at the hands of someone she trusted, her skin transmuted to iron,” she began, then tapped the jar with the banshee nails. “The two in here were tortured by a warden for forty-four days before they succumbed to their injuries.” Deirdre went on, listing the ways each part and piece had died, filling in names where she could and omitting gorier details out of respect. “Some of these people had died by Jo’s hand, others were simply her property by trade---bought or bartered otherwise. They will rest easier knowing Jo suffered as she should, and that no more harm can come from her. We remember their deaths.”

Deirdre turned back towards the other, rolling up her sleeve with one hand as the other unwrapped the iron rod carefully. She gripped the iron with her hand safely behind the wool, searching her forearm for the scar that seemed to grow every couple of years. She pressed the iron to it. “As the living, we will know their pain. And may they rest knowing that we carry it with us, and the pain of every injustice like this we cannot stop.” Her skin seared, blistering and peeling under the iron. Deirdre didn’t flinch and her face remained impassive. She would hold the iron there for as long as Coraline burned. “The house of winter is dark, and you may rest in its shadows. But your blood was spilled by the undeserving,” her voice dripped out steadily in Gaelic. “So I hold your pain in my heart, I hold it with my life. It is with each who watches me, each who knows. You can rest now, free from it. You can rest, by the decree of fate’s faithful, you can rest. The house of winter cherishes you now; to your home your body returns.” She pulled the iron away, bits of her skin were still stuck to it as she dropped the rod to the floor. Blood ran down her arm, dripping carelessly to the earth. She turned to Coraline’s body, dropping to her knees and pulling the cloth away from her face. “Take my blood for all that was taken from you.” She carefully lifted her head, delicately wrapping the wool around it before finally pulling her ceremonial knife out. There, she cut across her palm and dripped the blood on to the white cloth holding her body. Deirdre’s voice surrendered to a low hum, softly singing her family’s lament as she moved through each piece of the ceremony---from the wool wrappings to the cut palm. Eventually her singing trailed away, and she stepped back. “You can light it,” she told Morgan, “with any luck, her skull will be preserved enough to keep with the ashes. They can rest now.”

Deirdre had explained to Morgan what happened at a fae funeral and how it was her duty, as the officiant, to carry the pain of those who had died. She had known what the rod was for and how long it had to be held against Deirdre’s skin. But solemn discussions in the night didn’t come near to preparing her to see Deirdre’s skin melt off in red, gummy layers, steam rising from beneath. Nor was she prepared for the monstrousness of Deirdre’s silence. Her face looked like stone for all it moved, some hollow, unreal nightmare.

The burnt spot on Deirdre’s arm popped with heat and blood simmered and ran in thin sticky lines around the wound. Morgan had to cover her mouth to keep from screaming and running over to her. A muffled whimper escaped her lips and she clamped down harder, reaching for Ariana’s shoulder to keep herself still. This was part of a banshee’s role when a community was lucky enough to have one. This was what fae did for each other. Morgan knew this. She knew this. But she trembled with the urge to intervene as Deirdre cut her arm open, spilling more blood for the dead.

When she was called to light the fire, Morgan shuffled forward, fumbling for the long matches in her pocket. She had lit enough fires in her day, even without magic, to handle this with the kind of grace the situation asked for, but her arms were stiff and trembling. It took her three tries to get the end lit right. She held her gaze over the flame as it ate the wood one inch at a time and laid the flame over each bundle of kindling she’d laid on the pyre. She circled the structure til she came back to Coraline’s head. When it was done she flung the match into the blaze and stepped back, reaching for Deirdre. She slipped her arms around her waist and pressed them close together, her head resting on Deirdre’s chest. “I hope that was okay,” she whispered.

Ariana had never been to a fae funeral before and she had a bit of a hard time keeping a close eye on Deirdre. She couldn’t understand the parts that were in Gaelic, but she imagined there was some sort of explanation for why Deirdre had to put herself through physical pain for the ritual. Instead, she watched the pyres burned and wished that their souls would find peace. The circumstances surrounding their deaths had been bleak. More so than anything probably should have been, but more and more she was learning that’s just how the world worked. The smoke began swirling above them into the sky that was becoming darker now. The flames glowed around them and the smoke began to overtake the smell of the onion though she still tasted it on her lips. She remained silent as Deirdre continued on with the ceremony and refrained from wincing at Deirdre’s pain.

Lydia had last been to a funeral with a banshee officiant when she’d been a young child. While the human sacrifice (or onion sacrifice) was a common one, somehow, other species of fae were not as keen to take on pain in honouring the death. Lydia had only ever seen instead the damages transferred to a chicken. Deirdre was not a chicken, and she didn’t remember that childhood funeral right until the second Deirdre pulled out the iron bar. She steeled herself, staring at Coraline’sbody as Deirdre’s skin began to burn. If Deirdre wouldn’t flinch, nor would Lydia. It was an honour to suffer for the dead, as much so for the chicken as the Banshee. It wasn’t until Deirdre spoke, in a beautiful clear form of Gaelic that was so different to Lydia’s own tone, that a single tear rolled down her cheek. The witch’s death did not undo any suffering. It still lingered in the air, in their hearts, and in the skin on Deirdre’s arm that would take time to heal. When Deirdre’s voice dropped to a hum, Lydia found the rhythm and joined it too. The heat of the flame licked Lydia’s skin, uncomfortable without burning. She set in the fire five pieces of canvas, each made with ecstatic inspiration. So much that no image on them was legible, but for a funeral that was what was desired. Art in its purest, least dilute form. They burned, and in each carried the hope that the people cremated would find joy in the life hereafter. “Let nothing hold you to this earth. Your word has been kept, and you have been relinquished of what holds you here.”

It was a battle of wits and long limbs as Deirdre tried to navigate wrapping her arms around Morgan without getting blood on her. She was bleeding far too much for this to be accomplished, and so she remembered that white dresses were worn specifically to be sullied and she wrapped her arms around Morgan, staining her back with blood. "I think it was," she replied gently, "I think it really was." She bent down to kiss Morgan; first on her cheek, forehead, nose, before she eventually settled on her lips, capturing them for as long as she could. "Thank you," she mumbled as she lingered close. "For doing this. You really have brought them all peace, Morgan. I know it." There were no ghosts that lingered, and so it must have been true. "You did good, my vigilante zombie." She kissed her once more before she retreated, approaching Lydia and Ariana. "Your words were beautiful, and your voice is too. You should sing more," she smiled at Lydia, pulling her close—this time she took great care not to get blood anywhere, knowing Lydia didn't seem as strong-willed at the sight usually. She pressed a kiss to her temple and thanked her for giving that canvas, then for coming. The funeral was over, more or less, but Deirdre would stay until the flames died and help Morgan collect the ashes. She turned to Ariana next, forgetting whatever strangeness plagued her and Lydia earlier, or even her own actions. She wrapped her arms around the young girl, careful again with her bleeding arms. "And you, young wolf, have greatly honored us today. Thank you for sending that wolf to peace, and for observing the rest with us." She pressed a kiss to her temple too before releasing her. The funeral pyre grew steadily, the sound of cracking wood painting the air. The flowers laid atop did what they could for the smell, but to a wolf like Ariana it might not have mattered what they put. The funeral was over, technically, and all guests were free to leave—though this portion was usually colored with drinking and merriment. But watching the embers pop and disappear, the flames consuming all within with, she didn't think that they would. Not yet.

It wasn’t until Deirdre pulled her into her arms that Morgan released whatever she’d been holding onto of the dead girl she’d first found in a pile of garbage with Kaden, of everything she’d seen in that awful storage unit. For a moment, she could even release the unfairness of being supernatural in a world where your history and identity had to stay some stupid, deadly secret. For a moment, as the flames surged in the twilight evening, everything felt like it was enough. Morgan sagged into her banshee’s grip and hugged her back just as tight, kissed her just as long. The forest was quiet except for them. The birds, sensing something amiss, stayed away or else hid in their roosts. The deer watched from a safe distance and closed ranks around each other, grateful for another day to come. Morgan released her hold and watched Deirdre give her parting kisses to their friends, then followed behind to slip her arms over both of them at once. They came together easily, with only a few inches of height difference between them. Morgan held them tight in their group hug, murmuring, “Thank you, for doing this with us. And thank you for being my friends.” She pressed a kiss to each head and held them a moment longer. The moment was fading, the weight of the world beyond them pressing in as surely as the night. “You can sit with us and watch awhile? But I understand if you want to get back. I know someone still has a coaching gig in the morning.”

It was a relief to see that Deirdre no longer seemed annoyed with her though she didn’t love the sight of her bloodied. Ariana welcomed the hug and told her, “Thank you to both you and Morgan for putting this together. I like to think it helped all of them find peace.” Her voice was wistful as she continued to try and put her hopes for those lost out into the universe. When Morgan came over to her, she still kept her features gentle. There was no use to acknowledge Lydia at this point. The moon was higher in the sky now and the stars twinkling above the smoke that was still present in the air. “Of course,” Ariana started before she realized what Morgan was doing. Her stomach flipped and her entire body tensed up despite their now serene surroundings. Morgan was pulling her and Lydia into a group hug and she wanted to rip herself away, but Morgan didn’t deserve that. She was actually pretty sure Morgan had no idea just who Lydia really was. Being fae was one totally cool thing. Keeping people you fed from hostage in your home-- totally different ball game. Lydia was nothing but a glorified serial killer in high heels that had someone very dear to Ariana trapped in her home. It left her feeling disgusted as she awkwardly let herself be enveloped in the hug. She did her best to keep close to Morgan, but she could still feel Lydia’s body against her own. Ugh. It was hard to ignore the discomfort and urge to fight, but she did. This wasn’t the time or place. Still, it left her skin crawling even as she pulled away. Even though she hadn’t been sleeping well, Lydia being out of the house meant maybe she could see Ace tonight. “If I didn’t have such an early day with the kids tomorrow, I’d definitely hang around, but I’ll come by soon. I do believe I owe Deirdre a strawberry rhubarb pie,” she said with a grin before offering a final wave and getting the hell away from Lydia.

“I’ll sing more with you,” Lydia replied softly, taking Deirdre’s healthy hand for a quick moment, a gesture meant just for the two fae women, only for Deirdre to pull her into a hug a moment later, and Lydia squeezed her back tightly, for as long as she was allowed before Deirdre moved on to Ariana. She turned to the flames and didn’t look away from them until Morgan’s arms slipped around her. “Oh!” She gasped, suddenly pulled tight against two of her favourite people and an annoying brat. She hugged Morgan back at the very least, and smiled as they were let go. “I’ll stay-“ she was cut off by Ariana’s quick reply and equally quick disappearance. She eyed the young girl until she was out of sight and sighed. Shaking her head, she looked back at the others. “I’ll stay and sit for a while.”

Morgan gave Ariana one last squeeze as she departed. She floated slowly to the ground by the wine service with the two fae, pressed in close to Deirdre. Around them, smoke fine as mist rolled through the air, carrying the smell of char and death with it. The smell was so rich it penetrated the haze around Morgan’s senses. As she breathed it in, she imagined that the dead were with her and knew her in a way most of the living could not. Morgan looked into the fire with its blinding yellow core, with its desperate hunger. Was their rest in the pop of flesh going up in smoke or the cooling of the bones? Was it when the smoke kissed the tops of the trees, or when the embers died? If the dead had the answers, they couldn’t give it to her. Morgan huddled closer to Deirdre, stretching a hand out for Lydia as well, squeezing her hand. If peace was something the universe granted to zombies, it would be something she had to make for herself.

#onion tears #wr chatzy #wr deirdre chatzy #wr ariana chatzy #wr deirdre #wr ariana #wr lydia #wr lydia chatzy #self harm tw #self-harm tw #wickedswriting

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technoskittles · 4 years

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Pure Feeling Playlist

Okay, so I had someone on twitter express interest in the songs I have for my playlist for Pure Feeling and figured, yeah, I could share it. I don’t have a spotify (I don’t like the interface plus the music selection is way too limited for my taste) and the playlist itself is on Youtube Music. It’s also private because I don’t really want random people seeing it or other people messing with it if I unlocked it, so I’ll just type up all the songs here with links that way y’all can scroll through and listen to what you want.

I understand there’s probably an easier and faster way to do this probably, but hey, with the quarantine I clearly have some extra time on my hands so why not?

Though, couple of warnings:

1. It’s LOOOOOOONG (it’s 300+ songs in total) (don’t worry I’m gonna put this under a cut)

2. Some of the songs aren’t going to make much sense in terms of the AU. This is for two reasons: a) Some of the songs allude to events/characters that haven’t shown up in the story yet (there’s a LOT of songs regarding Mara’s father) and b) some of them are just general songs that I use to get a basis of emotion/vibe when writing particular types of scenes.

3. My music tastes are all over the place (and this doesn’t even include some of the other genres I listen to just because it doesn’t fit this AU lol)

But this playlist is my main muse and is probably one of the best insights to my process/inner thoughts so, without further ado.....my full playlist.

(I grouped the songs from the same artist together for the easiest convenience)

(And some songs might kind of be repeats if I listen to multiple versions for the purpose of this fic)

Got any favorites? Any songs that worry you about the future of this fic? Or just something you might want more clarification on? Feel free to shoot me ask about it!

South London Forever by Florence + The Machine

Patricia by Florence + The Machine

I Will Be by Florence + The Machine

Too Much Is Never Enough by Florence + The Machine

You’ve Got The Love by Florence + The Machine

Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine

Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine

Ship To Wreck by Florence + The Machine

St. Jude by Florence + The Machine

Over The Love by Florence + The Machine

Pure Feeling by Florence + The Machine (hey look it’s the fic title)

Heavy In Your Arms by Florence + The Machine

What Kind Of Man by Florence + The Machine

Stuck On You by Meiko

Stuck On You (Acoustic Version) by Meiko

Adventure of A Lifetime by Coldplay

Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay

Hymn For The Weekend by Coldplay

Simple and Clean by Hikaru Utada

Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence - FYI - Hikaru Utada

Be My Last by Hikaru Utada

Colors by Hikaru Utada

Distance (M-Flo Remix) by Hikaru Utada

Without You (Justice Skolnik Remix) by Oh Wonder

Rockabye by Clean Bandit ft. Sean Paul & Anne-Marie

In The Rain (an unofficial rendition from Miraculous Ladybug by David Russell)

Stone Heart (an unofficial rendition from Miraculous Ladybug by sxrlove06)

Lost In The Moment by Daniel Lee Kendall

Fragile by ARCADES

Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood

Scary Love by The Neighbourhood

Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Sweater Weather (Vaski Remix) by The Neighbourhood

Honest by The Neighbourhood

Alleyways by The Neighbourhood

Stuck With Me by The Neighbourhood

Lights by Ellie Goulding

Goodness Gracious (The Chainsmokers Remix) by Ellie Goulding

Still Falling For You by Ellie Goulding

Starry Eyed by Ellie Goulding

Don’t Need Nobody by Ellie Goulding

Candy-Coloured Sky by Catmosphere

‘Till We’re In The Sea by RKCB

affection by Jinsang

summers day v2 by Jinsang

Let Go by Frou Frou

Must Be Dreaming by Frou Frou

I Just Want You by Robert Duncan

Forget by Alicks

Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier

Nevermind by Dennis Lloyd

Let It Happen by Tame Impala

Think About You by Kygo ft. Valerie Broussard

First Time by Kygo ft. Ellie Goulding

Fragile by Kygo ft. Labrinth

Feel Your Love by Nyquill

I See You by MISSIO

Learn To Let Go by Kesha

Praying by Kesha

I Love My Life by Justice Crew

Sex by Cheat Codes x Kris Kross Amsterdam

Everlong by Foo Fighters

Party Like It’s Your Birthday by Studio Killers

The Disappearance of The Girl by Phildel

Soul On Fire by Mystery Skulls

we’ve never met but, can we have coffee or something? by in love with a ghost

What is Love? by Y//2//K & Yung Death Ray ft. Jaymes Young

A Manner to Act by Ra Ra Riot

Suckers by Ra Ra Riot

Do You Remember by Ra Ra Riot

You And I Know by Ra Ra Riot

Oh, La by Ra Ra Riot

Can You Tell by Ra Ra Riot

Consequence by The Notwist

Anyone Else by PVRIS

Dead Weight by PVRIS

Can You Hold Me by NF ft. Britt Nicole

Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John

No Fear by Dej Loaf

I’ve Been Waiting by Lil Peep & ILoveMakonnen ft. Fall Out Boy

Give U Up by CALVIN (I’m sorry in advance for this one)

Heartbeat by Scouting For Girls

Keep It Simple by Tove Lo

Sweettalk My Heart by Tove Lo

Glad He’s Gone by Tove Lo

Not On Drugs by Tove Lo

Got Love by Tove Lo

Crave by Tove Lo

Paradise by Tove Lo

Moments by Tove Lo

Talking Body by Tove Lo

Habits (Stay High) by Tove Lo

Scars by Tove Lo

Out Of Your Mind by Tove Lo

Vibes by Tove Lo

Lies In The Dark by Tove Lo

Come Undone by Tove Lo

dont ask dont tell by Tove Lo

Cherry Blossom by ALA.NI

Feels Like Home by The Him ft. Son Mieux

Quiet by Lights

Skydiving by Lights

365 by Zedd & Katy Perry

Left to Right by Marteen

Could You Love Me? by Black Saint

Midnight City by M83

Marble Soda by Shawn Wasabi

Crystal Dolphin by Engelwood

Pusher (Shawn Wasabi Remix) by Clear ft. Mothica

She’s A Riot by The Jungle Giants

Stranger by Jay Hayden & King Vodka

Now That I’ve Found You by Carly Rae Jepsen

Marty McFly by Luke Christopher

Rocks by Imagine Dragons

All Day And Night by Jax Jones ft. Madison Beer & Martin Solveig

Run Free by Deep Chills ft. IVIE

Maps by Maroon 5

Feelings by Maroon 5

blue by Pools

High Hopes (The Lucifer Edit) by Quails

breathin’ by Ariana Grande

Into You by Ariana Grande

Shy Girl by Kedam

Something Good Can Work by Two Door Cinema Club

What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club

Sleep Alone by Two Door Cinema Club

This Is The Life by Two Door Cinema Club

Do You Want It All? by Two Door Cinema Club

Sun by Two Door Cinema Club

Eat That Up, It’s Good For You by Two Door Cinema Club

Undercover Martyn by Two Door Cinema Club

Sunflower by Post Malone & Swan Lee

Señorita by Shawn Medes & Camila Cabello

Her Morning Elegance by Oren Lavie

Everybody’s Angel by Down With Webster

All Fall Down by OneRepublic

Counting Stars by OneRepublic

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T by Fall Out Boy

Jenny by Walk The Moon

Youth by Daughter

Get Lucky (Cover) by Daughter

Love by Daughter

River Flows In You by Yiruma

Girls And Boys In School by Neon Trees

Girls And Boys In School (EP Version) by Neon Trees

Helpless by Neon Trees

In The Next Room by Neon Trees

Beings by Madeon

Dried-Out Cities by Fallulah

Bloodline by Fallulah

Almost Home by Mariah Carey

Headlock by Imogen Heap

Closing In by Imogen Heap

Lifeline by Imogen Heap

Goodnight And Go by Imogen Heap

First Train Home by Imogen Heap

I Am In Love With You by Imogen Heap

The Walk by Imogen Heap

More by Kaskade & Felix Cartal ft. Jenn Blosil

Lay Down by Kaskade & Late Night Alumni

My Distance by Kaskade

Lessons In Love by Kaskade ft. Neon Trees

Kill The Lights (Audien Remix) by Alex Newell ft. DJ Cassidy, Nile Rogers, & Jess Glynne

Fall In Love/Lie by INNA

Cola Song by INNA

Caliente by INNA

Iguana by INNA

Ruleta by INNA ft. Erik

I Like You by INNA

Love by INNA

Shining Star by INNA

Bebe by INNA

Bebe (Yaniss Extended Remix) by INNA

Better Not by Louis The Child ft. Wafia

Living Island by Pogo

Still Into You by Paramore

Hard Times by Paramore

Emergency by Paramore

Ignorance by Paramore

I Caught Myself by Paramore

Letting Go by HERB x Kendall Miles

To Be Human by Sia ft. Labrinth

Big Girls Cry (ODESZA Remix) by Sia

Elastic Heart by Sia

Angel By The Wings by Sia

If You Didn’t See Me (Then You Weren’t On The Dancefloor) by Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr.

Butterfly In The Still by Iwasaki Taku

Dare (La La La) by Shakira

Me Enamore by Shakira

Loca by Shakira ft. Dizzee Rascal

Te Aviso, Te Anuncio (Tango) by Shakira

Addicted To You by Shakira

Whenever, Wherever by Shakira

When A Woman by Shakira

Can’t Remember To Forget You by Shakira ft. Rihanna

Better Than Yesterday by HollySiz

This is What You Came For by Calvin Harris ft. Rihanna

Sweet Nothing by Calvin Harris ft. Florence Welch

Rain by Pueblo Vista ft. .Eehlou & Shiloh Dynasty

G.B.D. Pressure (Extended) by Chillster

Valentine by Aether ft. Veela

Lemme See by Usher ft. Rick Ross

Promises by Aly & AJ

Like Whoa by Aly & AJ

Silence by Aly & AJ

Find A Way by Safety Suit

Ordinary Day by Emilie Mover

Green Light by Lorde

Don’t Feel Like Crying (MK Remix) by Sigrid

Crazy in Love by EDEN ft. Leah Kelly

Broken Girl by Matthew West

Crazy in Love by Sofia Karlberg

This Is What Makes Us Girls (The Confect Remix) by Lana del Rey

1901 by Phoenix

Lisztomania by Phoenix

Please Don’t Touch by RAYE

Island In The Sun by Weezer

God Is A Dancer by Tiesto & Mabel

Tighten Up by The Black Keys

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

Lazy Eye by Silversun Pickups

Don’t Play by Halsey

Bad At Love by Halsey

Young God by Halsey

Now Or Never by Halsey

Hurricane by Halsey

Drive by Halsey

Eyes Closed by Halsey

Eyes Closed (Stripped) by Halsey

Haunting by Halsey

Strangers by Halsey ft. Lauren Jauregui

100 Letters by Halsey

Ghost by Halsey

Break A Sweat by Becky G

Little Talks by Of Monsters And Men

I wanna be your girlfriend by girl in red

Run by Alison Wonderland

I Want U by Alison Wonderland

Peace by Alison Wonderland

Peace (Acoustic) by Alison Wonderland

Dead To Me by Kali Uchis

Good Enough by Evanescence

Go Slow by Gorgon City & Kaskade ft. Romeo

Feel Good Inc by filous & LissA

All I Need by Within Temptation

A Lot Like Love (Oliver Heldens Edit) by The Voyagers ft. Haris

Hideaway by Kiesza

Memories by KSHMR ft. Sirah

American Sadness by XYLO

One Step At A Time by Jordin Sparks

Your Shirt by Chelsea Cutler

Hope Of Morning by Icon For Hire

Collect Call by Metric

Flowers On The Grave (Acoustic) by The Maine

Fabulous by Ally Brooke

Falling (blackbear Remix) by Trevor Daniel

You by Petit Biscuit

Unlove You (Drop G Remix) by Armin van Burren ft. Ne-Yo

Formation (R-TRAX Trap Remix) by Beyonce

Schoolin’ Life by Beyonce

Simmer by Hayley Williams

Ruby by Foster The People

Moral Of The Story by Ashe

Colorblind (Left/Right Remix) by Karma Fields ft. Tove Lo

Don’t Stop The Music by Jamie Cullum

Goody Two Shoes by Adam Ant

Don’t Stop the Fancy Footwork (Chromeo vs. Rihanna)

She Wolf (Falling To Pieces) by David Guetta ft. Sia

Slow Burn by Audiograf

Write My Story by Olly Anna

1 Thing by Amerie

I Like That by Janelle Monae

Your Favorite Place by Joey Pecoraro

Beauty Mark by Parov Stelar ft. Anduze

Dead Hearts by Stars

Change of Seasons (EP Version) by Sweet Thing

Larger Than Life by Pink Zebra ft. Benji Jackson

Are You With Me (Pretty Pink Remix) by Lost Frequencies

Nothing But by Skin

In Common (Kenny Dope Remix) by Alicia Keys

Resonance by HOME

All Stars by Martin Solveig ft. ALMA

Lavender’s Blue Dilly Dilly [From the Cinderella (2015) OST]

Besame Mucho by Jorge Blanco

Touch You Right Now by Basic Element

Dinero by Trinidad

Icon (Reggaeton Remix) by Jaden Smith ft. Nicky Jam & Will Smith

Make Me Sweat by Kat DeLuna

Sombredosis by Kat DeLuna ft. El Cata

Real Love by Memory Tapes

Feelings by Hayley Kiyoko

This Side Of Paradise by Hayley Kiyoko

Wanna Be Missed by Hayley Kiyoko

Gravel To Tempo by Hayley Kiyoko

Pretty Girl by Hayley Kiyoko

Fiesta (Remix) by Bombe Estereo ft. Will Smith

Love by TeZATalks

Had by TeZATalks

Heal by Loreen

Analyser by AlunaGeorge

Attracting Flies by AlunaGeorge

Damaged by Plummet

My Kind by Hilary Duff

Sparks by Hilary Duff

Talk by DJ Snake ft. George Maple

First summer without you by Outgoing Hikikomori

First birthday without you by Outgoing Hikikomori

2 Heads by Coleman Hell

Mathematics by Little Boots

Hearts Collide by Little Boots

Meddle by Little Boots

Parachute by Cheryl Cole

When she went away by Max Richter

When she came back by Max Richter

Who Knew by Pink

Lash Out by Alice Merton

Back To The Start by Mr. Little Jeans

Perfecto. by Ayo. & .Disfnk ft. Daniela Andrade

service by j^p^n

I’m In Love Again by tomppabeats

Close by Nick Jonas ft. Tove Lo

Falling Apart by Michael Schulte

Dusk ‘Til Dawn by ZAYN ft. Sia

Pillowtalk by ZAYN

Minimal Beat by Lindsey Stirling

Perfect Illusion by Lady Gaga

Do I Wanna Know? (Cover) by CHVRCHES

La Familia (Guy Sigsworth Remix) by Mirah

Broken Parts by The Ready Set & Mokita

Invisible Chains by Lauren Jauregui

Lonely Gun by CYN

Cartier by Dopebwoy ft. 3robi & Chivv

Boss Bitch by Doja Cat

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #pure feeling #ash writes #pure feeling playlist #playlist #if some of these links are wrong or repeat forgive me #I wasn't about to go through and double check them all #if nothing else you have the titles and these are all on youtube #will probably be adding onto this as I add more songs to my playlist #so I just realized that the links aren't showing up for some reason on the published post #even though when I went to edit they're still there???#I'm very sorry about that #just copy and paste into youtube I guess?

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hinerdsitscat · 4 years

Note

i just binge-read your "lars and organa" series and i want to know if you have any ideas what might have happened if they did take over the empire? would they have gone evil?

Oh dang, this takes me back (my very first foray into Star Wars fanfic!) I guess I sort of have an answer for you, because I started work on a more-or-less-officially-abandoned sequel to Lars & Organa, which was going to be another four-part cycle where the galaxy has to deal with an invasion from a Yuuzhan Vong-style empire from parts unknown. But it got a little too grim and also overloaded with stuff from the Clone Wars and Rebels animated series, so I moved on to other things.

But I did write a good chunk of it.

In the first part of the sequel (tentatively titled A Day of Peace) while Luke is dealing with various Political Things and then running off to respond to a distress beacon from a mysteriously-reappeared Ezra Bridger, Leia is doing her thing with Rogue Squadron because the war with the Empire is still going on.

A supposedly-simple mission (ha) to steal some starfighters goes incredibly awry when a Star Destroyer shows up. Vastly outnumbered, the Alliance ships are suddenly saved by the arrival of three other Star Destroyers, who attack the first Star Destroyer and destroy it.

Here’s an excerpt:

There was a long silence before Han hailed the remaining Imperial ships. “Venerator, not to be ungrateful, but what the hell is going on here?”

“Let me take the opportunity for further introductions, then: my name is Fleet Admiral Chalnos Rivian. The Venerator is the flagship of the Fleet of Succession, which has sworn its allegiance to the true heirs of Palpatine’s Empire.”

“Then what are you doing helping us?” Han asked in confusion.

“Because they are currently among your ranks: the Emperor Luke Skywalker and his sister Leia Skywalker, the Lady Vader.”

“Oh shit,” Leia whispered in the cockpit of her X-wing.

---------

For the first time in Leia’s memory, Mon Mothma appeared to be at a loss for words.

“To be fair,” Leia said, fidgeting awkwardly in her chair, “we assumed that they would figure out that we had tricked them once we had escaped.”

The older woman pressed her fingers to her temples, then let out an exasperated groan. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“There is an Imperial fleet outside, and you call that ‘nothing’?”

“We didn’t—” The rest of Leia’s reply was interrupted by the entrance of General Dodonna, followed by R2-D2.

“Rivian gave us this audio recording, captured during the Battle of Endor,” General Dodonna said, gesturing to Artoo to play the recording. Leia winced as she listened to her brother do his best Scary Sith Lord impression.

“Apparently you were quite convincing,” Mon Mothma said drily once the recording ended.

“Okay, yes, that… that does sound bad,” Leia said, still wincing.

“And you just forgot to mention this during your debriefing?”

“We were only in charge for fifteen minutes!”

“You staged a coup and your defense is that it was brief?” Mon Mothma asked incredulously.

During Books 3 and 4 of L&O, Vader had been doing some work behind the scenes to gather any Imperial forces who he had influence over and set it up so that if Palpatine died, they would seek out Leia and Luke and follow them. The Rebellion is initially thrilled at the arrival of all of these resources, but are less than thrilled to discover that a) Leia and Luke were sort of technically in charge of the Empire for like five minutes at the end of Book 4, and b) these Imperials are still, well, Imperials and consider themselves heirs to the real Empire, not Rebels. Leia, gritting her teeth, decides to accept their offer and becomes the head of this weird group of not-actually-defectors.

It gets weird.

The head of the fleet is a fanatic who basically worshiped the ground Vader walked on, and is more or less angling to get Leia to take her father’s place in the whole Bloodthirsty Sith Commander department. Leia spends most of the story struggling to do some kind of good with the power she’s been given, but the pressure doesn’t exactly bring out the best in her.

Here’s a scene when Leia breaks up a brawl between a group of Rebels and a group of Imperials under her command:

“What happened?” Leia demanded. No one seemed prepared to speak, so she pointed at an officer she recognized. “You, Carden, what happened?”

Carden, a wiry dark-skinned man who worked with Agent Lumaan, got to his feet. “Some words were exchanged between the Wookiee and a group of our staff and then he attacked us, ma’am.”

“Without any provocation?” she asked skeptically. She turned to Chewbacca. “What happened?” she asked the Wookiee.

Chewie glared at the officer that Leia had noticed earlier, the one with blood on his face, and began a tirade of furious Shyriiwook that was far too fast for her to follow. At one point, Han nearly rose to his feet, but a few Rogues were able to grab him by the shoulder and hold him back.

“Chewbacca, please, slow down,” she said. She looked over at Han. “What is he saying?”

Chewie glared up at Leia and used a word in Shyriiwook that Leia knew all too well from Tatooine: “Slave. He called me a slave.”

“And more,” Han growled. “That he had served on Kashyyyk, that he had taken part in what the Empire did there, that he would make sure that he—”

More Rebels joined in, but Leia was no longer listening to their words. She could only hear the blood roaring in her ears. She began to walk slowly towards the officer. “What is your name?” she asked him, her voice soft and dangerous.

“Lieutenant Stria, ma’am,” he said, carefully standing up.

“Did you say those things, Lieutenant?”

“No, ma’am, it’s all—”

“I will know if you’re lying,” she said as she stepped closer. “Did you call him a slave? Did you brag about your role in enslaving his people?”

“Ma’am, it’s just a Wookiee—”

Leia snarled and shoved Stria against the nearest wall with the Force. She was in his face only a moment later. “These are our allies, Lieutenant. These are my friends. If you can’t get the most basic notion of respect through your thick duracrete skull, then at least remember that.”

Leia could barely see through her rage. Stria tried to look away; she grabbed his chin and forced him to face her. “I don’t know what Empire you think you’re fighting for, Lieutenant, but now you’re working for me and you know exactly who I am. Exactly what I am: I am the Lady Vader, you useless bucket of Hutt-spit, and I can literally flay you alive if you so much as cough in a way that I deem offensive.”

Pinning the now-shaking Stria to the wall, she turned to face the rest of the Imperials. “That goes for every single one of you: if there is even a single instant of anything other than complete obedience and loyalty, your next trip off the Venerator won’t be on a shuttle—it’ll be through the fucking airlock.”

“And you…” she hissed in Stria’s face, “not only are you no longer a lieutenant, you’re no longer a person. You are a walking carcass who should count his every future breath as a damned miracle. What I have planned for you back on the Venerator is going to make this—” she flicked a finger against the blood drying on his face “—look like a fucking trip to the refresher, you—”

Leia had let go of his chin to indicate the blood; as she did so, Stria slumped to the ground, senseless.

She hadn’t been holding his chin. She had been strangling him.

Leia flinched back in horror. A dozen Imperial eyes were on her, not to mention those of her former squadmates. She couldn’t have a meltdown right now. She had to get out of here.

Straining to keep herself from visibly trembling, she signaled two members of the shuttle crew. “Bring him aboard.” He was still alive, at least. She looked at the rest of her staff. “Let’s go.”

Admiral Rivian had apparently been watching the entire incident from the ramp of the shuttle.

As she passed him, he inclined his head respectfully. “My Lady,” he said, giving her a smile that sent chills down her spine.

So... not great.

While the first series involved Luke’s temptation to the Dark Side and ultimate rejection of it, the sequel series was going to do the same with Leia. Luke, whose temptation had involved experiencing a lot of trauma, is now developing new relationships and support (introducing the Ultimate Sass Squad of Luke Organa, Ezra Bridger, and Mara Jade), while at the same time, Leia is growing increasingly isolated, leaving her vulnerable to the Dark Side.

It all works out in the end, of course. But the journey to get there was a bit more exhausting than I could manage at the time, and I shifted to working on some prequel-era AUs instead.

I hope that answered your question at least a little?

#star wars #star wars fanfic #by me #fanfic #q: anonymous #Anonymous

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ofblueflames · 3 years

Text

Momentum *.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.”

Amara doesn’t usually see her brother. Cole is busy, always busy. Hell, he’s spent the last forty years in Los Angeles and given up his spot as their adopted mother’s second-in-command to Jinyoung, her boyfriend. Her brother had black hair the last time she saw him, and the two of them standing at a stand-in grave, she can see that her brother has not dyed his hair back to its natural silver, but the weariness on her brother’s shoulders is enough to have her worried that she hadn’t been paying attention.

Right now they’re really trying to achieve peace. Their mother is pregnant again, Sunhyeon is somewhere. She hasn’t exactly been looking for her brother. He seems preoccupied. And now that they’re all back in the same city, their mother has been placing them in positions of power. Sunhyeon, Prince of Winter. Amara, Princess of Spring. Cole, Prince of Fall. Their sibling will be the Prince or Princess of Summer, and it’s quite fitting. Cole seems to have gained some sort of regal aura, Amara notes. His hair’s grown out again, falling into his eyes. How he even thought of cutting it for someone else’s pleasure before she couldn’t imagine. Cole was always the chilly brother out of all of them, but despite that very potent chill, he was such a good man. She’d seen that when he adopted his children, how her usually stoic brother had warmed up when holding a baby.

“No, but I wasn’t about to leave you alone.” Her brother’s voice is gentle, he’s always had some sort of gentleness with her. He’s prickly with Sunhyeon, but her brothers have always been at each other’s throats. She’s not totally sure why.

They’ve both been through literal hell in the past six months. And she won’t be mad that it took Maechang’s death to bring him home, she’s just glad her brother is back and that Insu gets to cling to ‘his favorite hyung’ again. Cole’s already given more than enough approval of Jinyoung without much thought, too. It’s nice to have some feeling of normalcy, now that she thought about it. Normalcy. They’d never actually had that, but she’d never forget the look on Berry’s face when she saw her Uncle for the first time. The last time he’d seen Berry she was just an infant and now her daughter was nearly six. “What, are you worried about me all of a sudden?”

“When am I not worried about you, Mara?” Cole’s dark eyes sparkle with a gentle mischief and she gently elbows her brother. “Shut it, Colie. Just don’t go away again.” She shook her head, laying a flower down at the grave along with Cole. “She didn’t want you to hear her die. That’s why she called you first. She didn’t want you to feel guilty that you were cautious about getting to know her again. She loved you, she was okay with what you guys had going. I think Mom was just glad that you were open to it.” She admitted, looking at her brother. It’s weird that Damon has their father’s heart, but they’ve both felt free since he was killed, and both Hati and Skoll have left them. They both have their werewolf blood, but it’s nice to not be sharing a brain with a feral direwolf anymore.

“I want to hope she doesn’t hate me.” Cole said gently. “I mean, I don’t think she does. But I hope she knows that I was wanting to get to know her more, especially these days.” Amara bit her lip, nodding her head and grabbing her brother’s arm. “All we can do is live up to her memory and make her proud, Colie.”

#drabbles;#amara;#cole;#the real other half of me; cole & amara #i gotta add them to my muse tab actually eep #ft. jinyoung #mentions of

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atamascolily · 6 years

Text

An incomplete review of the Star Wars EU/Legends canon

I never thought I would say this, but I'm actually very thankful there will never be another Star Wars EU/Legends book in the old - now non-canon - universe. I've been revisiting those books recently as part of my recent Star Wars kick, and let me tell you, I stopped reading them just at the right time - when Vector Prime came out and they killed Chewie off. It's all downhill from there.

Anyway, the Legends universe is a hot mess, but for me, the five Thrawn Books by Timothy Zahn - Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, The Last Command, Specter of the Past, and Vision of the Future - are amazing and totally canon in my heart for pretty much everything. Everything else is pretty much "meh" except for a few books that evoke some late '90s nostalgia (because really this blog is all about late '90s nostalgia).

So in my head, Luke and Mara Jade are happily married, and so are Han and Leia; their three children, Jacen, Jaina and Anakin, are all happy-go-lucky teenagers who can use the Force with their besties - Tenel Ka of the Hapes Cluster, Chewie's nephew Lowbaccha, and Tahiri Veila - and getting kidnapped/saving the galaxy every few months. The New Republic is alive and going strong on Coruscant (which never gets invaded by aliens from outside the galaxy), Luke runs the Jedi Academy on Yavin IV; the remnants of the Empire are scattered and disorganized and sue for peace with the New Republic and Captain Pelleaon finally gets the retirement he deserves. It's really great.

But let's face it, I read just about all of the books published prior to 1999 because I was a Star Wars geek and that's just what you did in the late '90s. (They were New York Times best-sellers so I know I wasn't the only one.) In general, I love the art on the books because it looks just like movie posters for films that were never made and that's exactly what I wanted.

Random thoughts on said EU/Legends canon cut below, for length:

-Ben Kenobi's last appearance to Luke in the Legends AU: "You're not the last of the old Jedi... but the first of the new." (TAKE THAT, DISNEY EPISODE 8!) -Awesome things from the Thrawn books: Mara Jade - check. Talon Karrde - check. Art as a major form of military strategy - check. Secret commando ninjas - check. Leia's title as "Lady Vader" - check. Borsk Fey'lya -check. Camaas Document macguffin-thingy- check. Ysalamiri - lizards that block the Force - check. Vornskrs - Force-sensitive predators - check. Insane Jedi master- check. Lots of clones - check. Lawful Evil Imperials - check. Mara fulfilling her orders to the Emperor in the most badass way possible in The Last Command - check, PLEASE. -Jacen, Jaina and Anakin Solo forEVER! -Also, Coruscant and New Republic forever!! -Shadows of the Empire: WTF, Xizor/Leia sex pollen (okay, pheromones) seduction scene???; Dash Rendar is a Han Solo expy, you're not fooling anyone. -Truce at Bakura: wow, Ssi-ruuvi are full of Fridge Horror, powering their tech with human life force; maybe the Imperials aren't so bad after all; Luke and Gaeriel have no chemistry and also her entire religion is against the Jedi on principle, and she's not interested in changing it for you, Luke, sorry; of course Dev dies after his redemption arc; watching the force-ghost of Anakin Skywalker try to talk to Leia is amazing, because Leia is so not interested in his shit. -The Courtship of Princess Leia: I love the Hapes cluster, but man Han buying a planet in a card game and kidnapping Leia with the Hapan Gun of Command (pretty much what it sounds like) is NOT OKAY; Teneniel Djo is awesome and so is Dathomir in general. Isolder is okay once he gets over Leia, which takes most of the book. Also on the cover on one edition, Leia looks like Sarah from Labyrinth during that dream sequence with Jareth - what? On the other, she's wearing her Endor outfit, as are Han and Luke and there's a Rancor there, too for no good reason that I can recall. -Jedi Academy Trilogy: Yay getting to see the Kessel spice mines; I'm not so into the Sun Crusher and the Maw Installation, but Qwi Xux and Wedge Antilles are adoreable together, poor Admiral Daala and Imperial sexism (yet another reason Tarkin is an asshole); yay for a Jedi Academy on Yavin IV; Kyp Durron seriously needs to chill, Luke's in a coma for a lot of the series, Exar Kun is not as clever as he thinks himself. -I, Jedi: I'm supposed to like you, Corran Horn, and I'm just not interested and your narrative voice is kinda annoying.... Just sayin'. -The Crystal Star: super weird and trippy, Han and Leia's kids are kidnapped by "The Empire Reborn", which is as dark and terrible as it sounds, Crystal Star explodes, do not read. -The Black Fleet Crisis: super dark and trippy, especially the Yevethan culture; reveal that Luke's mother was one of the Fallanassi - pacifist Jedi who hid when the Empire was formed - only it turns out to be a huge macguffin, which is too bad. -Children of the Jedi: EVEN TRIPPIER AND DARKER THAN THE CRYSTAL STAR, HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE; Luke gets a love interest who's a Force ghost trapped in a ship's computer; sacrifice, body-swapping, creepy song motifs. -Darksaber: Hutts try to build a Death Star, what can possibly go wrong? Luke's new Jedi girlfriend can't live without her force powers when she loses them, so she leaves him. -Planet of Twilight: Luke goes chasing off after Callista and they don't get back together, so that's good. Also dark and trippy. -The New Rebellion: SUPER DARK AND TRIPPY, LOTS OF MASS MURDER, NOT A FAN. Thank goodness for Mara Jade and Talon Karrde showing up with ysalamiri to turn the force off so Leia can shoot the Evil Dark Jedi behind it all with a blaster. I can't believe I read this. -Ambush at Corellia/Assault on Selonia/Showndown at Centerpoint: also weird and trippy. Han has an evil identical cousin. Luke has to go back and ask Gaeriel for help (she's married now and it's awkward). Lando tries to marry for money and after some awkwardness ends up with Tendra Risant, who is awesome. Lots of things blow up. Kids save the day at the last minute. -I only read one of the Junior Jedi Knights series, Lyric's World, about young Anakin Solo and his friend Tahiri, taking some time off from their Jedi studies to help a friend metamorphose into a new life stage, and I remember it being really charming, despite the inevitable intelligent secret animal sidekick. I later learned that Anakin and Tahiri were kinda an item and then it went horribly wrong in New Jedi Order so I'm glad I didn't read that. -Young Jedi Knights: yay young adult Star Wars novels from the '90s; I stopped reading after Diversity Alliance, but these were fun - especially Tenel Ka, who was a badass, and I quietly shipped her and Jacen (and then that ALSO ended badly in later books - why can't we have nice things?) Especially good in my memory: Shadow Academy (trying not to get corrupted to the dark side at an academy for Dark Jedi), Lightsabers (Tenel Ka has to deal with losing a hand during a training accident); Diversity Alliance (aliens get pissed off at human dominion in the New Republic government but decide that killing the humans off is the only way to achieve justice).

We're not going to even go into all the stuff that happens post-Vector Prime, because it is truly awful. Go look it up if you're curious.

I did read a few stand-alone books this week, though:

-The later Zahn novels lack the spark and vigor I remember from the Thrawn books. Scoundrels couldn't keep my interest. Allegiance and Choices of One feel very weird to me because Luke and Mara manage to work together without actually meeting each other. Survivor's Quest ought to have been good except somehow Luke and Mara encountering the Outbound Flight expedition was BORING and it shouldn't have been. It's not clear if reading the follow-up novel set during the Old Republic era - titled Outbound Flight - will help with this. -Also, I dislike the retconning so that Mara and Luke make references to Naboo and the Trade Federation, which they didn't do in earlier books, and also Thrawn's major motivation for everything is getting the galaxy ready for the impending invasion of the Yuuzhan Vong in New Jedi Order, which I just - really don't like, especially since NJO was pretty awful. -Also, there are an awful lot of Jedi healing trances in Survivor's Quest, which are only tolerable because the code word that Luke and Mara use to snap each other out of it is "I love you". D'aww. -Also, perhaps this is just me reading too much fanfic, but would it hurt to have at least an allusion to the fact that Luke and Mara have sex on occasion - in addition to snuggling and having Force mind-meld sessions? I'm not asking for porn, mind you, but just anything beyond platonic Force buddies would have been good. -Kenobi, by John Jackson Miller was another, relatively recent Legends book that ought to have been good. I mean, it's Obi-wan Kenobi hanging out on Tatooine, dealing with Tusken Raiders and moisture farmers - I eat that sort of fanfiction up - but although there were some good bits, it just really didn't work for me. -Those handy timelines in the front - listing every single book and how it fits into the convoluted chronology - is really helpful, though! The only thing that would make it better would be to add authors and dates. But that is what the Internet is for, I guess.

Conclusions and Follow-Up Questions to Research:

-Wow, the '90s were an interesting time. -Bantam Spectra line of EU novels: mostly good, some weirdness. Del Rey line: ARGHHHHH. -Wow, there are a lot more Star Wars books out there then I remember. -Wow, Mara Jade is awesome. -I have a lot of strong opinions on the subject. -Since they stopped putting out Legends novels as of April 2014, I never have to care about keeping up with canon or anything I don't like about this universe ever again. -Has fanfiction spoiled me for the "real" thing? Or is it just a failure of the published works to address the topics I'm REALLY interested in? -Is the Disney EU canon any better? (My guess, given how I feel overall about the direction of the recent movies: probably not for me, but maybe worth checking out.)

#star wars #book reviews #star wars feels #star wars legends #'90s nostalgia

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