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#because its so much easier to be angry than it is to be anything else

cer-rata · 17 days

Text

An incomplete but very angry diatribe about the missed potential of the Star Sapphires

So back in the day Geoff Johns and co decided to open up the Green Lantern mythos and add some more flavor and expand the concept of sci-fi tech powered by elemental emotion to more than just willpower. Which yes, is not an emotion, we ignore it and move on.

Anyway we got some really cool stuff! A rage tyrant fueled by experiencing incredible injustice on a personal and cosmic scale, whose vendetta twisted him into something terrible. An avatar of greed who was never allowed to have anything, not freedom, not family, not safety, who takes and takes and takes to fill a void that can never be satisfied. A priest who lost everything but presses on through his unshakable hope that the future can and will be better. It's a lot of fun stuff!

So in this great creative re-imagining, they had to do something clever and fun with the idea of an all female corps powered by love right? They took the opportunity to move past the purely romantic, sexual idea of love and the obsessed femme fatale archetype, because they had the chance to really explore different types of affection now that there were a bunch of different avatars with different stories to pull from right?

Right?

Nope! The only Sapphires we ever learn about are heartbroken over a cursed romance like Carol, grieving a dead fiance like Miri Riam, forcibly mind controlled to be one like Fatality, or just Miss Bloss who...kind of said she wanted to join up? No clue what her deal is, as far as I'm aware that's never really explained. And then we just never learn about anyone else, and still haven't. The hell is "The Lost Sapphire"? No idea, we'll likely never know.

It's frustrating because not only is this a glaring example of the depth of plotlines offered to women in comics compared to their male counterparts, but also a wild lack of imagination. Love is one of the most complicated emotions we experience. Fear, anger, hope, all pretty easy to quickly define. Love is multifaceted, cultural, incredibly contextual and a factor in so many different kinds of relationship. Just thinking logically it should be much easier to flesh out the motivations of a group pulling from such a nuanced source of power, versus something as clear-cut as rage. But no, the red lanterns got so many varied reasons for their rage, the male ones especially: Bleez being the woman was of course given the SA narrative, which I don't think is inappropriate on its own, that's an incredibly valid reason to be angry, but as the ONLY truly prominent female Red Lantern it's like...c'mon guys. But still, at least she and Atrocitus had different reasons for becoming what they are, and that variation was played for plot and drama.

But there's not a single Star Sapphire that personally champions something other than romantic love. And before you shoot me, it is explicitly mentioned that they DO protect other forms of love, so there's no reason for them to all be sexy and obsessed with kissing people. There are no Sapphires that are driven by:

The love of their children and families, even in a tragic sense, like Atrocitus and Saint Walker and Larfleez are...

Their love of their people, or their culture. It would have been interesting if Fatality was inducted BECAUSE of her pain at losing her world, but no, they just...replaced her anger with lovey vibes and called it a day.

Their love for nature. Not everyone is social, but social love isn't the only way to strongly experience the emotion.

Their love for themselves. Where is the fun narcissistic ass who loves their own self image to the point of getting powers? It would have been a fun twist and a cool way to get another villainous Sapphire if you wanted to.

Their platonic love of ANYTHING really. Are ace/aro people just...not capable of love then? It doesn't mean anything to be willing to drive cross country to help a friend move just because they needed it and you care? No? You need to be fucking for it to count?

It's like...fascinating if you really think about it. In this vast fantasy universe full of alien races with wildly different perceptions and life cycles, and where the other corps have plenty of non-human, truly alien looking members, that the women's only love corps is full of only hot hot scantily clad baddies. Most love that people experience in their lives isn't even romantic! You will have far more experiences with friends and family members and even loving strangers than you will have with romantic partners.

Like the reason is clearly sexism, duh, but we know sexism is bad, that's obvious, what I really want to make clear is how much this blatant, unexplored sexism just completely desecrated the potential of the worldbuilding here.

From another angle even: Let's say this this WAS the sex and romance all the time corps. Let's say that you wanted to keep it all women. I hate the idea that women are capable of love in a way that men aren't, that's such a bad take and just regressive and unhelpful, but let's just play ball for a moment. They're not even hot? Their designs are such ridiculously narrow versions of feminine attractiveness that they're not even successful at really being mass appeal sexy. I haven't even reached the point of complaining about the fatphobia and criminal lack of different body types yet, I'm still just saying that from the standpoint of fantasy sexy it's not even good at being stereotypical offensive fantasy sexy. It's just boring! They're all so visually boring! You can be scantily clad and still have an interesting and coherent character design! But that is not what they gave these women! They actually redesigned the classic Star Sapphire costume and made it MORE sexist and boring:

Yeah it was cheesy but it was also cute and fun? The design is playful classic sci-fi girl and this is when she was still a dangerous unhinged villain. Its fun to look at and feels tonally coherent next to Green Lantern.

And then they just...

No actually, I will not explain this one, you have eyes.

And yeah they fixed her costume finally,

But! She's still stuck as Hal Jordan's romantic punching bag, and has not gotten to have any new adventures on her own.

So.

What I'm saying is it's a flop all around. 2/10, and only because despite everything Fatality STILL managed to serve. I actually think that all of the corps have been poorly used since blackest night, even the greens actually, but they never even gave the Sapphires a chance. They last showed up in...a WW annual I think? During the whole dark gods event, they needed Diana to help them fight the evil god of love, and there was a guy in the corp finally, and they talked about sisterhood and then we haven't heard a peep from them since. I think Carol might be due to get her ring back in the GL ongoing but she's not really been treated well so far, so I'm not hopeful for anything fresh and well reasoned.

So my lovely ladies (and that one unnamed guy), until they let you get it together it may be time to

#dc comics #comics meta #hal jordan #green lantern #star sapphire #carol ferris #fatality #atrocitus #larfleeze #saint walker #sexism #shut up cerata #dc editorial answer for your crimes

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bobosbillionsknives · 1 month

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i agree with a lot of your points about knives, i do also think he is aroace of some kind (demi imo), but the way he ignores bodily autonomy wasn't a theme that was new to stampede. the way he consumes other plants and forced vash to use his angel arm are examples of it, though less explicitly 'sexual'. either way, his actions weren't born out of sexual attraction, he simply thinks that all plants are an extension of himself and he can use their bodies as he pleases since its for a 'greater purpose'. he is not a predator but he isn't innocent either

Oh no no no no no no no I do NOT wanna give the impression that I am genuinely defending knives is ANY way. 😭

I completely agree with everything you're saying. He is inarguably abusive. Saying he's not would be a wild ass claim to make. 🙏 My only argument here is that it isn't specifically sexual, but I'll get more into that in a bit. 😝 I have SO MUCH to say abt this...so I'm gunna use this as an excuse to word vomit on y'all. Thank you for bringing this to me I am itching.CRAVING to talk about my favorite girls always. 🤗💖

INSANE ESSAY POSTING LETS GOO !!!

I think your point on Knives seeing the plants as an extension of himself is SPOT ON!!! He does the same thing with Vash too. He's doing it because hes so stuck up his own ass he seriously thinks there is no possible way he could ever be wrong, everyone else is just too blind or stupid to see it his way. That's why he does the whole "eternal suffering for Vash the Stampede" bit. He genuinely cannot comprehend that Vash just fundamentally disagrees with him. He thinks if Vash goes out and sees every horrible thing a human can be he'll finally give up the hippy dippy act and face this false reality Knives made up as a coping mechanism so he never has to actually face any of his problems. Cause stabbing all your problems away is waaaaay easier than actual growth or change. Top ten girls who are trapped by the horrors of their past 😂!

Knives has a blatant misunderstanding of people's worth outside of himself. He disregards the lives of others constantly, he literally murdered 20 mil+ and was genuinely confused when Vash was mad at him for it. He doesn't take anything seriously. He especially doesn’t take physical pain seriously, unless it’s happening to himself. [DID YOU ACTUALLY SHOOT ME!!?] He's said that he knows none of the crazies he sends after Vash can ever kill him. He thinks if they can't kill him, then none of the hurt Vash experiences during these fights really count. Its always a game to him. He knows Vash will be fine because he has faith in his ability to fight. (He's complimented his fighting skills several times lol.) Yet he’s consistently shocked and disgusted when he sees Vashes scars, like he didn’t play a role in that ??? He just never thought of it until it was literally staring him in the face.

HE THINKS EVERYTHINGS A DAMN GAME !!!!!

Knives never really wants to force Vash to agree with him either, he's literally waited decades for him to come around to his point. He's definitely lashed out violently before, and has disregarded his safety. But I don't think he actually even likes seeing Vash in pain 😭 (maybe a little in a Itoldyouso brother kinda way lol.) He's completely horrified when he sees his scars. This panel speaks absolute VOLUMES to me. He is angry that Vash would allow people to hurt him this much. (Bro is for sure a victim blamer 🥱 Vash OBVIOUSLY should've known humans are evil and would do this to him. 🙄 HIS FAULT !) Those scars solidify in his mind that his brother is reckless, and clearly doesn't know what's best for himself. That's why he feels the right to "save" him from humans. Knives out of anyone in the world knows how much Vash disregards his own life. He's angry that his own brother would choose the perceived violence of humanity instead of the safety he has worked SO hard to cultivate for over a hundred years. After everything they learned from their childhoods, Vash would have to be deaf and dumb to keep crawling back to them. (From his perspective anyway.)

Everything Knives does he thinks is to better Vashes life. That's what makes him such a tragic character to me. He genuinely believes he's in the right and doing everything he has to so him and his brother can feel that safety that was never guaranteed to them in childhood. He loves Vash, (PLATONICALLY !!!! 😰) He wants Vash to be happy. He just doesn't understand why, that despite everything, living alongside the humans is what makes him happy. Something he only accepts at the end of trimax when he literally trees himself to assumed death so Vash could have that. Knives is unambiguously in the wrong, but I do think his thought processes are sympathetic. WRONG. But like .I get it girl. Besides, he acts more like a toxic mother than anything. How DARE you be so ungrateful after everything I've ever done for you that you've never even asked for. ✋😒 and EXPLICITLY told me not to do. Ugh. 🙄 you don't even love me…guess im just a terrible brother than huh…🥀 BITCH SHUT UP !!!!

Now about the asexuality, not only...do I think Knives is aroace. I think he's completely sex REPULSED!!!!! Sex is a mark of human degeneracy, animals clinging for power over each other. Hed think hes above it !! It would disgust him, I don't think he's ever had a sexual thought in his life. He’s also a Jesus freak he'd think procreation in general is a sin 🙄‼️ik his interpretation of the bibles gotta be INSANE. Exploring sensuality is like a normal and healthy thing to do no fucking WAY Knives is self aware enough to do all that. If he could experience any kind of libido, his hatred of humans would never allow him to explore it anyway. Since sex is such a huge part of human culture. He probably thinks consensual sex is a myth humans made up to assault each other easier…😭

this is literally him bro I can't see him any other way...🚬 He's literally a pearl clutching mom who refuses to understand anyone else's experiences because he doesn't understand them.

I can't imagine him being able to feel romantic love either...I actually think it would be pretty out of character ngl. Plus I think it could be an interesting element of why he feels so disconnected from humanity in general. It would be part of why he feels the need to define himself as alien. Knives would rather die than admit this, (and he did) but all he's ever wanted was understanding. The same way Vash does. Knives doesn't understand sexuality/romance, or deep empathy, or most social confinements at all. That's clear by his inappropriate emotional reactions and lack of a filter. He can't feel emotions the same way Vash or Rem can. It makes it very difficult for him to relate to and connect with others. Especially Rem. He feels too wrong, too broken, too alien. But he's convinced himself that this is actually a superiority. So he can sleep at night. But he's far more human than he'll ever be willing to accept. The familial love he feels for Vash is the only thing that makes him feel normal. And it's why he clings to it so desperately. I think that feeling being explicitly familial makes the most sense for the story.

(cut for explicit talk of SA/CSA)

Im never one to dismiss bad actions from a fictional character. If I thought Knives was a sexual abuser, id say it. I even considered it before I watched/read Trigun and kept it in mind the whole time because of how prevalent of a take it is. If anything, I feel like theres more evidence for metaphorical depictions of Knives BEING sexually abused than being the sexual abuser. I mean his literal whole thing is how plants bodies are used and abused against their will. Solely for the humans gain. While it's slowly and painfully killing them. And how afraid he is that they'll do it to him too....😭 He would be absolutely HORRIFIED by SA. I just don't think it's an abuse he'd perpetuate. It goes against literally everything he stands for. I get he’s a hypocrite and all but I could just never see Knives of all people doing anything sexually ever. ESPECIALLY for his own pleasure.

Both Vash and Knives read to me as CSA victims. This would need to be a separate post all together because there is entirely just too much to say. But I feel very strongly about this interpretation and it's why I'm so firm on this. Sexual abuse is a huge theme in trigun OBVIOUSLY!! And Vash and Knives can easily represent different ways people cope with trauma like that. Knives gets angry, and bitter, and lashes out. While Vash shuts himself off, and tries to run away from it all. Two extremes from two brothers. Two sides of the same coin and all that. They've been victimized, I think it's the main reason why Knives would be so angry and distrustful of humans. Now I know Steve was kind of a throw away character from the anime- but I believe long term interpersonal abuse from a human early in life would explain a lot of the deep rooted hatred Knives has for humanity. Along with his hatred for Rem if she failed to protect them, and his deep sense of entitlement to protect Vash if Vash couldn't protect himself. (Tesla was the last straw for Knives bc at least for a while he thought he could trust Conrad till all that happened and he realized the only person he could ever trust was Vash, and that fear never really left him even 100+ years after.) (My interpretation of Conrads role is also a different post gerrrrr TOO MUCH TO SAY.)

Knives' ideology has always been inconsistent, I can easily see him disregarding autonomy in some ways but refusing to in others and never making a mental connection between the two. Plus Knives would think Vashes scars are shameful and disgusting. He probably cant even make himself look at him let alone touch him be so fr. Knives' definitely has an unhealthily attachment to Vash but not in a sexy sex or ROMANCE way 🤦‍♂️ ITS JUST HIS BPD YA’LL 😝‼️#favoriteperson #extremefearofabandonment #vashkeepsleavinghim (also another separate insane essay post) there is no argument here that Knives isn’t extremely bad at emotional regulation. Familial/platonic dynamics like that happen literally all the time it’s just not evidence of anything to me. I can't even see Knives directly punching someone let alone be capable of sexual violence against his own BROTHER ? I'd argue he's far more verbally/emotionally abusive than he ever is physically anyway. He doesn't even kill directly, it's always either done without a second thought by his powers, indirectly by starving the population out, or by making other people do it for him. He doesn't seem to actually enjoy seeing people in pain, more the satisfaction of a job well done. I don't see why this wouldn't apply to Vash too? He doesn't even usually initiate their physical fights. Vash does. (He has every right to, for the record. Knives just doesn't comprehend why Vash would be mad so he always tries to talk like everything is normal. Lol.) And when they are fighting he always puts his hand on his face ?? More annoying than a direct indication of violence. He could just punch him or something but he doesn't? Like violence in Trigun isn't a thing known to happen. Idk I think that's interesting and worth exploring a bit yk ???

Obviously he chopped his arm off I'm not saying he's innocent there either, just that he's more likely to be emotionally manipulative than explicitly interpersonally violent LOOLL. He didn't chop off his brothers arm because he enjoyed it, to him that pain is neutral. It was just a super casual reminder. But SEXUAL violence is completely different, sure it'll leave scars but you can heal from physical pain all day and night I mean commooon it barely even COUNTS as real pain. (Because he rarely has to experience it.) (A certain someone's got a major empathy problem.) And if it kills you it doesn't matter cuz you're already dead 😝!! But SA is different. It's his worst fear and greatest agony. It's something he knows sticks with you your whole life, he doesn't think that's a wound capable of being healed. (So he never tries and chooses to live in constant fear and anger instead.) That's how I see it anyway...🤕 Again it's not like he's a reasonable guy he is known to be a bit unstable idk if u knew...

Actually if anything, I think Vash would be the more interpersonally violent of the two. (Vashes abuse is always reactionary tho he would never act like that if Knives would just be normal lol he is not the aggressor here.) I can't see Knives punching Vash but I could VERY easily see Vash punching Knives ykwim ??? (For trimax anyway, ik kid Knives beats the shit out of him in 98 which I DO think is funny. But I don't accept into my personal canon okay LISTEN we are talking about a lot of conflicting characterizations here. JUST HEAR ME OUT. ✋) Knives never even really blames Vash for BLOWING HIS LEGS OFF in July too, which I always thought was so interesting. It makes me think this is actually a common thing for them to the point that they don't even argue about it outside of "are you actually aiming at me again 🙄?" Which is more bitchy than angry. Like ugh I can't believe you. Typical, typical Vash. 🥱 He'd probably use it as a way of proving to him that they are the same. And despite denying it, Vash would actually agree and feel a deep sense of shame abt it. He's had 150 years of pent up anger after all. He almost killed him with a rock once lol. I'm tired of everyone woobifying Vash as some kind of perpetual uwu victim. Vash is fucking mean sometimes. He is just as capable of violence as Knives is. The same way Knives is just as capable of great kindness. It is known that Vash is in fact physically STRONGER than Knives. (With his plant powers and id assume in general because Vash actually goes outside while Knives reads in his garden all day.) I truly believe that the only reason Knives ever wins the sibling fights is because of Vashes constant hesitance. He's not a battered wife stereotype. All Vash wants is control over his own life, the last thing he'd want to see himself as is a helpless victim. It's why he always pretends nothing is ever wrong with him. It's why he doesn't accept help, and values other people's problems far above his own. His kindness was always an active choice and that's why he's such a powerful character. And Knives would bring out the absolute worst in him LOOL all that work he's done to better himself is instantly thrown out the window the second Knives' very punchable face walks in the room.

He was fighting absolute demons not to run over and beat tf out of Knives in this panel

This is why I feel so disgusted by stampede and the way they handled their relationship. They've dumbed down these characters to the point that they are unrecognizable. Literally every aspect of stampedes portrayal of them feels like a first conclusion based on a synopsis of their goals and personalities. I get there's only one season but that's a LOT to fuck up in one season bro. 😭. There is absolutely no salvaging Nai as a character for me. I'd cover my drink around that guy I find him genuinely repulsive. At least with trimax, you can read around an initial sussy reading if you wanted. How anyone defends Nai, I don't even know. That whole plant insemination thing is pretty on the nose y'all. Literally doesn't even make sense for him to do that like? Why would he want more independent plants??? It's like they tried to make Knives' motivations make sense when the whole point should be that they don't. He's fighting ghosts out of fear. Stampede wasn't even good enough to justify its own existence by how it looks. Adding peculiar plant pregnancy preggo fetish incest bait is just the turd on the turd cake. They ruined the most compelling part of the story for me. Pfft.... But whatever...🚬 not like I care ....🚬

Not to mention Legato y'all don't even get me started. The guy that HATES humans more than anything in the world taking in a HUMAN -SEX TRAFFICKING VICTIM. The one time he's ever taken pity on a human being and it was someone who was the victim of a violent sex crime. Yeah guys that dude. Total raper. Defo a brother diddler. What the fuck are we talking about right now y'all. I genuinely feel like sexual violence would be the last thing knives would ever do ever. I understand that there are sus scenes in the manga that could be interpreted this way, but considering the many themes in Trigun and his place in the story as a whole, I think it is such a misrepresentation. And it frustrates me to see it as one of the only things talked about in regards of his character. If I could, I'd rewrite every scene in the world so people could understand what I see, but I can't. And I know I can't control how other people see the media I like. Trigun is extremely interpretive, and I understand why this is a common conclusion. But I guess I just can't shake the feeling that it's more complicated than that. I have criticisms with trimax and ESPECIALLY 98. And there's obvi a lot id change to fit what I'd find most interesting. (Also why every headcanon revolves around Knives somehow teehee) BUUUUUT I do think all of my analysis is pretty based in canon. I can't stress how insane I am about this and how much I've thought about it 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕. Believe me, I've considered every obstacle. And I've stayed consistent.

Knives is a raper feels like the easy answer to me. To be completely blunt, it's just not as compelling. Vash and Knives would both have very complicated relationships with their bodies and sensualities and gender and their relation to their plantself and their humanself and blah blah blah whatever. I'd much rather explore that as a separate result of the same abuse than default to supercestsimulator69. Knives is already an abuser. Making him a sexual aggressor too doesn't really add anything to the story besides diminish and dumb down his very complex motivations. Vash and Knives should be very good friends who know each other better than anyone. (They are trauma bonded like CRAAAZZY, very codependent like y'all get it.) I think that would make their conflict SO much more interesting. While providing some great context to why Vash is so willing to give every horrible person he meets a second chance at life. If I saw my brother, who I love, and is my best friend in the whole wide world, slowly deteriorate under the pressure of the abuse we we're BOTH experiencing; go fucking crazy and kill everyone. And I KNEWW. He genuinely believed he was doing what he had to do to protect the both of us...I'd probably also give everyone the benefit of the doubt idk. Vash understanding Knives' motivations but still holding on to that (justified) resentment and anger is ESSENTIAAAL to their dynamic and also literally all of Trigun. Sexual abuse throws a rock in all of this. If anything I think Knives would tell Vash "I'm the only one who WOULDN'T assault you. They're human, they'll only see you for how useful you are. It's what they do. It's what you know they do. You're choosing them over me the same way Rem chose Steve over us." Knives' abuse is complicated and multifaceted, not just some gross display of power. He's not even the most power hungry character in the world. He's got a whole cult dedicated to him that he canonically IGNORES.

And he sure as shit doesn't respect people who are desperate for power over others!! He'd think he's above that too. Just more evidence of human deviance. (Like the scene in 98 where kid Vash and Knives are watching the humans fight over water. Animals who think one is more deserving of resources than the other.) He's narcissistic in the literal diagnosable sense but definitely not some kinda megalomaniac. I think that's a huge mischaracterization. He doesn't want to rule the world, he wants to destroy it. And he wants Vash to be his equal in this, he respects Vash. (as far as someone like Knives can respect anybody at all) He doesn't understand why Vash would choose to be so "dumb" because he's never allowed himself to feel the vulnerability of potential harm that Vash wants him to understand is worth it. It's why he locks himself away from the world, he's afraid of being victimized again. Knives' morals are all over the place, he genuinely doesn't think murder is bad but would consider sexual violence to be the worst thing anyone could ever do EVER. It's not like we're talking about the beacon of reason and consistency here y'all, Knives is cray cray sauce.

Anyway that's my thoughts, sorry this took forever to answer. 😿 And ended up being SOOO long.. I've on and off mauled over this writing and rewriting again trying to make any of my garbled thoughts make any sense. Hope it resonates with anybody at least bc I genuinely feel like I've been taking crazy pills lately LOOL. Take care of yourselves everyone. 💖 Never an easy subject to talk about.

#tw sa mention #theres more to say with knives and the plants too but thats an entirely different essay post LOLL #thank you again for the ask I was itching for some kind of excuse to get my thoughts together like this 😭🙏#my based takes #asks #vash the stampede #millions knives #trigun #ive been putting off posting anything else to force myself to finish this...sorray yaaalll.....hope it was werth it thoo....#do NOT let him talk about trigun yall. 😂 !! you'll never hear the end !!!!#trigun maximum

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blues824 · 1 year

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okayy, this one is a bit long so bear with me please!

imagine, in a au world where the league of villains get a redemption arc and so they get to go to u.a.; them with a gentle and kindhearted reader who is willing to befriend them while everyone else is still a little wary. im thinking, kind and empathic like tanjiro and is able to make them feel as if they really have a chance at changing.

you dont have to write all of the LOV, it can just be shigaraki, dabi, and toga! i dont want you to have to write too much.

Toga’s scenario sounds exactly like the beginning of Wednesday

Tomura Shigaraki

People were definitely hesitant to give this man a second chance. He was doing his best but no one believed in him. He got a job at U.A. where he could teach the students about how destructive quirks can be and how to limit the amount of damage done to any party. This was arranged so that he could be on close watch.

There was one teacher he had taken a particular interest in. They were an up and coming Hero, as well as Aizawa’s assistant. They always greeted him with a smile and a wave, and they were also the one who showed him around U.A.

You were his first friend, proof that he turned over a new leaf and left behind a life of crime. You always made him a bento for lunch (he loves your cooking) and always tried to have at least 3 conversations with him.

After a while, he asked why you were so kind to someone like him. He wasn’t wary or anything, he was just curious. You smiled and said ‘to me, being a hero means giving people a second chance. Society turned its back on you first, so you had every right to be angry. I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.’ This made him blush a little.

Eventually, after being work friends (and just friends in general), Tomura got the courage to ask you out. He was about to go in and hug you when you said yes, but he looked at his hands in disdain. You pulled his gloves off the table and handed them to him, and once he put them on you wrapped your arms around him. You pulled back a little to place a kiss on his cheek and he stiffened but then relaxed and wrapped his arms around you as well.

Dabi

People were wary of him not just because of his actions but also because of his appearance. The scars he got from his quirk obviously showed and he had staples and stitches. When he got a job at UA, he had to teach the older students about how destructive quirks can be and how not to inflict too much damage to yourself while still pushing yourself past your comfort zone.

You were assigned as his teacher’s assistant, and that caused you both to become close over time. You were the only one who actively tried to befriend him. Before class, as you both set everything up for the day ahead, you would always shake his hand and give him a warm smile before making your way to your corner desk.

He was grateful for you. You made his life that much easier, and he appreciated it a lot. You would spend your lunch breaks at his desk while discussing everything that came to mind. He’s even told you about a few of his villainous journeys.

One day, during one of these lunch breaks, he asked why you were so kind and genuine. You smiled and told him, ‘Well, it would be kind of weird to teach the next generation of heroes without reflecting the virtues a hero should have. Plus I figured that there was more to you than what most see.’

Eventually, after class on a Friday afternoon, he called out your name before you left. You turned and gave him your full attention, and that’s when he asked you out for a date at 7. You suddenly felt shy before nodding. Dabi walked you out before he pressed a kiss to your forehead and headed back to his apartment.

Himiko Toga

Since she was young enough, she was transferred mid-semester as a second-year student. After all, she had gotten nearly perfect scores on the written Entrance Exam and showed great Battle IQ in the practical Entrance Exam.

You were one of her classmates, and your teacher gave you the task of showing her around and bringing her to her dorm. Instead of looking at her in disgust as most of the other students did, you had a friendly grin and shook her hand.

You both instantly became friends. You would have study sessions that ended in laughter because you both were doing impressions of your classmates. You became assignment partners, lunch buddies, basically each other’s ride-or-die.

One day, during one of your study sessions, the conversation got serious for a second. She asked you why you were so nice to her even after learning about her actions and you held her hand in your own. You told her, ‘A hero is supposed to give everyone a second chance. That also means former villains.’

Eventually, once you were packing up after class and getting ready to head to your dorm, Toga pulled you aside and asked you out. Once you said yes, she almost tackled you to the ground in a hug while peppering kisses all over your face.

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miss-anachronism · 12 days

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for requests. i need. valen x male magister merlin. im a sucker for this guy. anything really. thank you!

Ooh, I’ve never read an x reader/MC fic, let alone written one! New territory, as exciting as it is scary.

I’m not so sure I have a good grip on Valen’s character, but I tried to write it from his perspective. I hope this suits your needs! It gets a bit philosophical. And sorry if its OOC :,)

He isn’t sure what to think, really.

They’re sitting around a dying campfire, just outside the borders of the Dark Forest. Lorsan is pacing somewhere in the distance, muttering to himself, or to the wind, maybe. Trying to figure out what’s happened to his home. Korin leans against a tree, tending to his wounds- courtesy of Merlin. The magister himself is across from Valen, wrapping his own wound and chattering with his hamsters.

Logically, Valen knows that the lesson he should have taken from this scramble is a lot more profound than what’s been on his mind. He should be contemplating the Wilders, the forest, their next steps, how to protect the refugees. And he’s trying to, but it’s just that something- someone- keeps catching his attention.

He didn’t know Merlin could bleed.

It’s such a silly observation. But as Valen watches the angry red wound on Merlin’s forearm, his gut twists. It’s like seeing a god’s flesh tear, and seeing that its blood is the same bright red as his own.

Valen isn’t sure what exactly Merlin is. As far as he knows, no one does, not even Merlin himself. But to the average young Lightbearer, he’s a myth. A legendary figure that you might glimpse once in your life, but would never get to meet. Never speak with, let alone camp alongside. Fight alongside. Merlin throws his head back to laugh at something Chippy has said, and something stirs in Valen’s ribs, something he knows is dangerous.

All of this is dangerous. Merlin is not someone to be loved; Valen has seen what happened to Mirael. Forgotten about, left in the dust, accidentally as it was. The way she watches Merlin, her face made of mixed admiration, bitterness, and regret. He wonders if she would take it all back, if she could. Scariest of all, when she bid them farewell, the look in her eyes sent an ugly pain of jealousy through Valen’s chest. And he doesn’t want that to happen to him, selfish as that may be. Every time Merlin falls asleep, he risks waking up knowing nothing.

Besides, what is Valen to a hero of myth? His whole life has been barely a blink in Merlin’s. Whatever he is, there is no reasonable way Valen could ever mean something to Merlin the way that Merlin is beginning to mean something to him. Merlin will outlive him a thousand times over. And he’s probably met a thousand different people, fallen in love with quite a few of them. Someone who has experienced so much life, so much loss, can they still love? Could they ever?

And yet, he bleeds. It’s such a human weakness that it seems impossible. Valen knew heroes could bleed; he didn’t know gods could. Merlin does not go about the world serene and calculating, watching every moment with practiced ease. He stumbles, laughs, misses with his spells. He jostles Valen’s pauldron excitedly when they win a fight, he’s the last to flee when they lose, ensuring everyone else has disengaged safely. He has only one dimple, on his left cheek. Sometimes he speaks so fast his words blend together, and Hammie has to remind him to slow down. It’s endearing. It’s human. Valen doesn’t know what to do with it. Because it was so much easier, to write off affection as admiration. When the pieces had first clicked, he thought it all made sense. The natural pull that the magister gave off- yes, of course, it was just Merlin’s nature. But they’re a week into this camaraderie, and Valen keeps noticing things like the lick of hair on his neck that doesn’t sit flat.

Pretty fucking annoying, that’s what it is. Valen’s always prouded himself on his ability to swerve out of love’s path. He can flirt and charm all he wants, but at the end of the day all the love letters he receives are ink and paper, nothing more. Whenever someone seriously reciprocates- god forbid- he disengages as smoothly as he can, lest they get the wrong impression.

But Merlin has changed all that, somehow. Impossibly so. He supposes it’s in his nature, to take everything and turn it upside down. Valen doesn’t want to flirt with the Magister, to laugh as he flushes under his praise. Well, it would be nice, he always has liked the attention; but the thing is, that isn’t the point. With Merlin, he just wants to be. No performance, no elaborate courtship. Just… be. Together. All this, for someone who is more myth than man.

It seems like the scariest thing he’s ever faced.

“Valen?”

He jumps as the magister suddenly speaks, and realizes with mounting embarrassment that he’s been staring the whole time. Luckily, the magister grins good-naturedly- and ah, there’s that dimple again.

“Lost in thought?”

“You could say that.”

He leans back on his hands and forces his face into a smirk. It’s easier than he anticipated; despite everything, Merlin makes it simple to be around him.

“I’ve been meaning to say,” Merlin mirrors his position as Chippy and Hammie scuttle away, the former setting off on a quest to climb the nearest tree, “I really appreciate your help in all of this. Coming along, and aiding me- far past your assigned duties. It isn’t lost to me.”

Valen gives him a look. “Of course, magister. I’m not one to leave danger to fester; I’m sorry you ever had that impression of me.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…” Merlin’s brow furrows as he collects his thoughts. “You know, you seem so… charmingly nonchalant. Like nothing bothers you. But that clearly isn’t true. You care a lot, Valen, and it’s really, really nice to see. You’re someone who is just… good, you know? And I appreciate it.” He grins sheepishly. “Sorry. Kinda cheesy compliment. I’ve lost all my memories, you know, but being around you- and Lorsan, Cassadee, Mirael- honestly, I don’t feel like I’m missing much of anything. Everything I need is right here.”

He shrugs and turns back to the fire, as if he has not sent Valen’s mind reeling. Functionally, Merlin has been aware for only a week- one week out of thousands of years. He’s wondered how he’s been so calm about the whole thing, and…

And it’s hard to believe, but it’s much harder to doubt what Merlin says, not as he stares into the fire with that soft smile. It dawns on Valen that he probably knows more about Merlin than Merlin does- all of the legends, at least. And yet, despite that insurmountable legacy, despite the name and title that bears unimaginable weight, Merlin is… content. Content in just moving forward, and hoping he’s doing the right thing.

And isn’t that all that Valen’s doing, as well? He doesn’t deserve all this praise; he always shies away from large displays of gratitude, loathing how awkward they make him feel. Because he’s just moving forward, and trying to do the right thing. It’s a simple motive, really. Faith, and what effort it takes to retain it. He always thought Merlin would have some deeper, existential knowledge of the world that would put all else to shame- access to the secrets of the universe, and what not. And, certainly, his magical capabilities are second to none- but his philosophy, the way he lives; it very well might be human after all.

Maybe the usual Merlin, the one with all his memories, is the knowledgeable, immovable sage that Valen grew to look up to. Maybe, once restored, Merlin will become that god-like fairytale hero, wisdom surpassing all others, power knowing no ends.

Selfishly, Valen hopes that never happens. That the Merlin in front of him stays the same, annoying dimple and all, and keeps looking at Valen like that. Like he sees something in him that Valen never knew was there. He hopes Merlin never raises above their quips, their banter.

He know’s it’s all in vain. But god, he hopes.

#afk journey #afk Valen #fanfic #ghostie writes #afk merlin

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infini-tree · 2 months

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and many happy returns

Summary: Maybe there was a reason Harold's birthday never came up, he realized. (PPU-verse)

A/N: woe, personal take on the ppu-verse upon ye! this was originally supposed to be a comic, but quickly hashing out a short excerpt in two days is easier for me at the moment.

i realize there's a lot of one-off lines that imply something in the ppu-verse, but i think how things changed in comparison to the mainverse is pretty self-explanatory? though it might just be self-explanatory because its been in my head for long enough that i'm used to it.

honestly, the challenge with writing these guys is that they have a shades of being an Unreliable Narrator to them. and there's two layers of unreliability, if you squint!

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

George looked up to the Treehouse with nervousness in his gut. From the sounds, it was clear that Harold was already in there. Or a raccoon.

It was three years since he had moved to Jerome Horwitz and was moved up a grade. Three years since he was subsequently brought back to kindergarten. But most importantly, it had been three years since him and Harold met.

It was only a week ago that he overheard Harold's birthday was coming up.

He clasped the box in his hands a little tighter. He remembered seeing Harold linger at the display for it and trying to play it off, so he was sure he'd like it. Maybe.

He owed him a lot, maybe too much. Which was why he scrounged up his allowance for this. His birthdate was a more difficult thing to pick up, since it never came up in all their years of hanging out.

Before he lost his nerve, he threw the box into his backpack and climbed up the ladder.

"Harold! H--"

The next words get lodged up in his throat at the sight of the other boy throwing something at the walls of their treehouse lair. Repeatedly. Before slumping to the floor.

"Harold!" he scrambled up the final leg of the ladder, awkwardly bellyflopping onto the wood floor.

The boy flinched, conveniently obscuring... whatever it was. "Don't."

It seemed that he wasn't satisfied by the results, so he had started to bash the thing against the floor one last time so hard it shook the Treehouse.

After a moment of silence (and making sure the Treehouse didn't topple over), he slowly made his way over to him.

Step, he could see something bounce the light from outside onto the floor. Step, there was a whiff of plastic and the sound of crinkling. Step, he could see bright paper peek out from the spaces between the other boy's fingers.

"’S a gift from dad," Harold spat out in lieu of an explanation or apology or anything else.

George made a face. Yeah, that tracked. Very few things made him that mad.

As mad as he can get, he didn't like blowing up. He liked being sneaky, and being in control as he watched everyone else run around like chickens with no heads. In fact, he was super careful to never destroy any of George's stuff for some reason.

Harold's own stuff was free game, though. The boy stared at a dollar store plastic bat with a dent in it.

"The gift must've really stunk if you're this mad."

That, thankfully made the other boy let out an amused huff. "Yeah. It did."

"Then--" he gave a pointed glance at the box at his feet. "What's in that thing?"

A pause. "Workbooks."

He made a big show of leaning on the other boy's shoulder. On what little of the cover he could see, dead-eyed look of stock photo animals in a classroom looked back at him. "I don't think a bat would've made a dent in them."

Harold quickly slapped him away, more playful than anything.

"I used that before I knew what was in them, dummy." The light atmosphere didn't last for long, though. He gave an angry glare at the gift. “I was hoping I could break it.”

“Why, though?”

Harold’s hands clenched at the bright paper. Glitter smeared into his palms before he finally let go of them. “He does this… thing on my birthday. Mom too. 'S not even for me-- not really. More for what they want me to be.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation. But George thinks he gets it.

Harold's dad was a weird guy. He didn’t live with him and his mom and his baby sister. From what little he’s heard and seen at the Hutchins driveway, he sounded… nice. But he knew that didn’t mean much of anything when his actions didn’t match. His mom had the opposite problem.

And most importantly, neither of his parents were here on his birthday. Sure, it was a weekday, but it was Spring break, for crying out loud!

Silence.

"I didn't even want a dumb gift!" He kicked the wrapped books-- tried to, but it barely grazed it. "Birthdays are dumb, anyway!"

George was not a words guy. That's what Harold was for. But right now, he had to find the right ones. His mouth tried to form the right shape silently. The words were there, all he had to do was--

"You think you still have those sparklers from the New Year's?"

Harold blinked.

"We can try and make those-- those, uh-- bonfires!--" He gave a pointed glance at the offending gift. "It's early for it, but it's pretty warm out. It can work."

It took a moment for him to put two and two together, but when it finally clicked– Harold broke out into a sly grin. He stood up like he ate half a pound of sugar before clapping a hand to his shoulder.

"Man, see that's why you're here-- ideas."

He tried to match his smirk. "I thought I was here for drawing?"

"That, too."

The both of them made their way out of the Treehouse with a skip in their sneaking. The both of them decided to split up and come back to Harold's backyard. Said Harold had taken to getting not only the sparklers, but anything remotely flammable, and George pilfered his kitchen for anything they could roast.

There wasn't any marshmallows, but there was leftover pizza and sliced pineapples in a tubberware which arguably was better. He cut the pizzas up to be kebab stick stabbing size and placed it over the grill.

"We should do this every year." Harold leaned forward from his lawn chair and fed a page into the flames.

"What if the gift next year isn't flammable?"

"I'm sure we could think of something." He let out a sharp laugh. "You know, I think this is the first time I'm actually looking forward to it."

George leaned back into his chair. He couldn't help but feel relieved-- not only because that he felt that he had partially repaid him (though, that was a bonus). Nah, seeing Harold's face light up every time he lit up a page was... fun.

(Not the right word, he thought. But again-- he wasn't here for words.)

The comfortable kinda-silence crackled on. Harold kept feeding the grill more pages as hey fed on their pizza and pineapples until both were gone. Eventually, even the fire died out and the both of them were forced to close the grill and made it seem like nothing happened.

Now, there was nothing except the lingering smell of smoke.

Harold gave a curious glance back at him. "What were you going to say?"

"Huh?"

"When you were climbing up the Treehouse, before you saw..." He vaguely gestured to the workbook-- or the cover that remained. "All that."

He was suddenly extremely aware of the weight in his bag. He looked to the grill. Then to him. And then gave a dismissive wave, trying to play off his shock. "I thought you finally found the raccoon that kept getting into the snack stash."

Harold let out an incredulous laugh. It had none of his usual sharpness, but all the volume he expected.

"You thought I was fighting a raccoon?!"

"I mean it was raccoon sized--" He gave a glance to the covers. "Or, was."

"Besides, we all know you're the one who keeps taking all the Sweet Patches." The words held no accusatory heat, but it did have a whiff of a challenge.

"Says the guy who keeps hogging all the Jelly Burgers!" George threw his bag off to the side and began run at the other boy.

Before he could react, he was quickly tackled to the ground as they began to play-wrestle in the grass. That was quickly called off as Harold had suddenly gotten an idea for a comic while faceplanted on the ground.

He could give the dolphin-shaped mini-soaker another time, play it off as something else.

#mellsian fanfics #captain underpants #alternate joke title to this was 'adhd be damned these boys can work a grill'#fudged the time for spring break for this sssh

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aquanova99 · 9 months

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕞

Azriel x OC

Part 2

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➽───────────────❥

Cassian leans against the wall as Nesta paces across the stone floor, knowing better than to interrupt when shes upset. Nesta was not blind she knew he was just as worried, if not more so for their friend. She stopped to go to him grabbing his shaky hand that was anxiously tracing over one of his syphon.

“I’m sorry.”

“I assume he’s still not saying anything.” When she shakes her head Cassian just takes a deep breath, “So, whats the plan now?”

“We could ask him for help. Have him join us to the town house. Maybe seeing Nyx will help. It has to be his choice, but…” Nesta shakes her head and presses her lips together, Cassian just brings her into him. Neither of them understanding what it was they had done to let their friend feel so isolated he couldn’t even speak to them.

Azriel for his part tried a bit more with Nesta, both of them having an understanding. After Luminia Grove, after Callista he found himself furious. Furious…and doubtful. He saw everything that had happened to him and questioned why? Why couldn’t his father simply leave him and his mother somewhere? Why did his half brothers hate him so much? Why did he agree to an alliance with two boys who beat him just as bad as anyone else in his life. They hated eachother until one day they simply didn’t.

He had pushed down all of his anger and it was as if it couldn’t be contained anymore. Never had he understood Nesta more. So his yelling was reserved for Cassian. Rhysand. Mor and Elain received silence. He no longer had the energy to try and untangle his feelings. Especially when, during his brief moments of lucidity, he only thought of Callista.

He can hear Nesta outside of his door. Waiting for him to be finished with his food, he sighed pulling out his pendant for only a second before speaking, “Nesta, you may come in. I wont bite your head off.”

“Yeah, that’s the issue I’m having. Can Cassian come?” Azriel’s lips tightened but he nodded. They both sat on a lounge chair, directly across from the bed Azriel sat. The shadows seeming unnervingly still.

“Az. He’s going to demand we go visit him soon if you don’t get out of this bed.” Cassian starts

“Maybe I should hike an entire mountain until I snap out of it.” He grumbles, he takes a deep breath at Cassian’s flinch. He knows he’s being too harsh when Nesta squeezes his hand, “I don’t want to see him.”

“We understand. I don’t like seeing him either.” Nesta shrugged, “But, we can see Nyx.”

Azriels chuckles, It has been awhile. Really he hasn’t been talking because its easier to talk about anything besides what happened those days he was gone. It seems ridiculous, he pines for his friend for centuries, then tries to be with someone because somehow each of his so called brothers are with her sisters, now all he could think about another woman who offered him a home, no stipulations or trials required. Apparently that was all it took. It was pathetic. He needed to forget the small hideaway he had found. And at the same time, he needed to figure out the protection spell. Why did he even want to help? His mind was racing nonstop, his headaches worse than ever. He couldn’t talk about it… So, instead, what does he do? Lash out.

“I—

“We won’t talk about it.” Nesta says

“Its not that. I don’t—I don’t understand whats happening…”

“Because your brain is reacting. As if you’re trying to survive something.” Azriel and Cassian stare, “When I was angry, and before I went on that…uhm mountain trip. I—Well it was like I was telling my mouth to stop talking but everything that came out was…mean and cruel. Like a part of me wanted everyone to either feel how I was feeling or make them leave me alone so I could stay miserable.”

The two ilyrian men stared at her. Cassian ready to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness again, Azriel ready to tell them everything. He did everything to hold his tongue. He quietly says he will go. Neither Nesta nor Cassian argue, and quickly lead the way out. First he had to get over this, and talk to Rhys about the spell. Talk to Rhys about the spell. He repeated in his head over and over. He repeated it so much he wasn’t even aware he had made it to the town house he used to reside in. The rooms that once held so much warmth and safety now made him anxious. Though he never took it off he still patted around his neck to make sure his amulet was still there, still hidden. The long corridor to where he knew he would encounter Feyre and Rhysand filled him with dread, the shadows warned him of the upcoming interrogation, which truly, he expected. Nonetheless… how much would he be able to say. How much should he reveal?

Feyre greeted him first, enveloping him in a warm hug he felt safe to return, “Azriel…We’re happy you could come see us.”

“I really just wanted to see Nyx, if that’s okay?” He could see the hurt in Feyre’s eyes, he was told how Elain’s face turned into a scowl, he could hear Amren scoffing as she sat on the floor across from Rhys, but he could also feel how Feyre was willing to accept his answer.

“Of course, its not okay.” Rhysand said, “You’ve been missing for months, then you decide to ignore your friends, your duties. Need I remind you that Bryaxis is still out there?” Of course not. Along with his order to stay away from one of the people he was friendly with, the fact he couldn’t find him so easily infuriated him. Nothing had ever stopped his shadows from discovery. It was as if whatever that thing was, the creature that seemed to haunt Cassian every time it was brought up…it terrified even the shadows that kept him company.

“Don’t you dare imply I haven’t been doing everything I can for this court.” No. Stop. Take a breath he told himself,

“I have continued my duties. There is nothing to report. Everything has been silent. I would request you not question my abilities.” Rhysand lips tightened, Feyre glaring at him screaming at him mentally to play nice. He mentally distanced himself, shutting down any emotion threatening to spill over.

“Stop. Please,” Rhysand’s voice softened, “You don’t have to speak so formally. I—we’ve never spoken to each other like that.”

“Right.” Azriel scoffed, “I think it’s best I remember my place. You are my high lord. I am just your spy master, and I will continue to do my duties for the Night Court. As I have been.”

“Rhysand…” Feyre use of his full name caught everyone’s attention but it did not deter her mate. Nesta glared, for someone who always judged how she reacted to others he was always quick to act just the same. Saying things, sometimes hurtful things, to mask his own hurt. Hypocrite. Nesta sneered when Rhysand glared in her direction.

“Very well, then you can tell me exactly where you were for those three months.”

“Rhys. Stop.” Cassian pleaded

“No. We deserve to know. Something happened while he was gone. If he was only doing his duties he should be able to tell us, right?” Amren said with a pinched smile

“He left because obviously someone doesn’t know when to leave things well enough alone.” Nesta glared at Rhysand, “He has never once proved to be disloyal to you or the rest of the Inner Circle you claim is your family.”

“I think I agree with Rhys…” Elain spoke up, “Its just—it does seem strange. And my visions, they couldn’t see you coming back or at all when you left.”

The shadows seemed to grow darker around him, hugging him, enveloping the space around him. No one missed this, everyone watched what he would say next. “I apologize, but I fail to see how that’s my fault. Since the last time you used my blade, you hadn’t used your ability as seer. Even then, I do not report to you.”

“I wasn—”

“Don’t talk to her that way. My abilities aren’t working with you either. Something happened, or you figured out how to protect yourself from daemati, which makes everything rather suspicious, does it not? I don’t need to remind you how delicate everything is right now.”

“No, you remind me very well.” Nesta and Cassian looked between each other. Of course, Feyre knew. In fact, everyone knew because Rhysand had been trying to convince everyone that this was how they could all help their friend.

“You found something.” Rhysand stated, he had yet to move from his seat.

“I found nothing!” Azriel voice rose higher than anyone had ever heard him speak, the shadows circling him, nervous at the amount of doubt aimed towards him.

“Az, could you tell us what happened…please. Whatever happened out there…if its bad we can help.” Rhys returned to pleading, trying to dig his friend out of whatever wall he had built up so strongly. Had he pushed him that far?

Azriel laughed dryly, they were getting nowhere. He was getting nowhere near any answers that could help his own personal quest. “Nothing happened. I was not lying when I say I found nothing. Are you so desperate to find something wrong?”

“You could just show me. Whatever you did to block me out—”

“Was not of my doing. And if I had the ability to block you, I would have done that long ago. Instead of you commanding me when its convenient for you or finding things I likely never wanted you to see.”

“Is that why you left? Because I ordered for you to do something to keep the peace between the autumn court?” Rhysand stood up taking a couple steps toward Azriel who remained immobile. Enough is enough, these kinds of cracks could not begin to unravel at the center of his realm. He did his best dammit. Is doing whats best for everyone around him. Azriel’s stubbornness helped no one.

“It is ironic how you always say we have free will until it is something you deem wrong, is all I’m saying. Lord Rhysand.” There was no expression on Azriels face, no fear. Just more indifference. “I don’t know where I was nor how I got there. I found nothing.”

“Az, you don’t have to…” Nesta reached out, but Azriel shrugged her off.

“He wants to know.” He turned back to face Rhysand and Amren who was now staring him down. “I don’t know how long I flew for, I just kept flying well past the faerie realms that seem to hide from the rest of Prythian. My wings froze after several days and when I woke up…it was in a strange place I have never heard of. It has protection spells similar to our own Velaris, but much stronger. The people there nursed me, fed me and then told me to go home. I traveled back the normal way.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell us about them?” Mor squeaked out, sneaking in after listening into the heated discussion, “You think we would hurt them?”

“We all have things we do not wish to speak about to others, do we not? You still do not talk about some of the events of the Autumn Court, and when Eris contradicts you neither I, nor anyone else question you.” Mor immediately stomps out, muttering about everyone needing to mind their business. No one could argue his point. Every one of them kept something deeply hidden within themselves. Rhysand refuses to talk about what he had to do to appease Amarantha. Nesta still hides why she was so hurt after the battle with Hybern, Elain sees things no one else sees, Amren was an entirely different being who gave them no information. While Azriel mostly wanted to keep Callista and her people safe, it was also better for his friends to know nothing. If something were to happen and they were to encounter more daemati, more people who had the ability to torture peoples thoughts.… they would have no information. And so long as he could somehow keep his amulet hidden he would be safe. Not that anything really contained him anyhow not since he was a child, not again. Never again.

“We would never—”

“I may not be daemati, but I know when someone is lying. Unless you know how to lower centuries of protection spells stronger than Velaris had, theres no point in trying to find them. The people there…they’re stuck. They cant leave and no one whose visited has been able to find it twice.”

“You actually believe that?” Amren snorted, “They told you that so you’d leave them alone.”

Azriel became silent. He wasn’t about to argue any further. A few weeks ago, he might have agreed with Amren, but the people there. They were prisoners, their cell was lovely and they’ve made do with what they could but regardless they were stuck. Never able to leave. Stagnant. He bowed his head and turned to go back to the house of wind. At least there he could get some peace and quiet. Nesta put her hand on his shoulder to stop him for going any farther.

“Did you get your answer or not?” Nesta demanded, Rhys was silent. His eyes landing on all of his friends waiting for an answer, waiting to take a side. A house divided would not stand, and he was only making it worse. He needed to time to think. Maybe listen to his High Lady and just apologize…no. He only need to apologized if he made a mistake, and the original order was not a mistake. Was Feyre right, he thought, is he only trying to preserve his pride? Should he leave his friend alone. How else could he help? Is that what he was doing, helping? Trying to maintain control of something just to keep his family safe? Feyre stared at her mate with both empathy and fury mixing inside of her. She took a deep breath and tried to make up for hurt words.

“Azriel, would you still like to see him? Nyx should be awake from his nap any moment.” Feyre asked

“If that’s okay with you.” Feyre smiled and led Azriel away.

“Well, that went well.” Amren chuckled at the chaos

“Whats your fucking problem Amren?” Cassian spat out

“You don’t think its weird?”

“You think everything is weird. You didn’t like Nestas powers either. But you and Rhys apparently always have the last word, right?” Cassian stared at Rhys daring him to argue. Nesta just grabbed his hand and followed Feyre. When they found her and Azriel they both stared at silently at the interaction between the Ilyrian and Nyx. Silent but so soft, so loving. Azriel sat him on his lap, staring at the boy with eyes that had been cloaked in misery for weeks, the shadows finally growing dimmer around him. The little boy seemed to be playing with how the shadows swirled and danced around him, both completely taken with the other.

“I still cant believe he likes you more.” Cassian joked, finally earning a smile from his friend

“Just wait, once he can fly and run around. He is going to prefer you. He’ll need someone to match his energy.” They all smiled at the thought of it. Feyre looked at the people in this room and her eyes began watering. Not so long ago the group was voting on what to do with Nesta, then they did the same when they were deciding to tell her about Nyx’s wings, now again here they all were voting, debating, on whether or not Azriel could be trusted. Azriel of course, noticed. “You all can agree with him if its easier. I don’t hate him, but right now…I need space and this is easier. You don’t have to fight him for my sake.”

This of course, only solidified who they were standing behind. “Please, I like arguing with Rhys. I’ve been doing it since I was dumped in the cauldron.”

“I’ve learned not to side against Nesta.” Cassian joked, Nesta pushed him and he brought her into him wrapping his arms around her from behind, “Besides, I get it. You cant control who you fall in love with. And the whole Autumn court thing…”

“Well, if it makes everyone feel better, since I’m sure they can hear. I’m leaving Elain alone. I thought I could have been her…but I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I am trying to figure everything out. Whats real and whats a result of me being alone? Thankful someone notices me, maybe? I was made aware of where I stood with Rhys that night. And I cant—I cant get over that right now.”

“You don’t have to.” Nesta says, “And you don’t have to figure out how you feel right now either. If that’s why you needed space then take the space. Let us know if we can help.”

“If Lucian had a choice between Elain and the woman his father killed, he would have chosen the latter. Being mates…it doesn’t always mean the two are a good fit. I mean look at Rhy’s parents.” Feyre says lowly, thinking about the sadness in Lucian’s eyes, the way he remembers how happy he had been. The pain that never left him, the guilt he would always carry over the weight at being the reason the love of his life had died. Now… well she never saw him, he wanted nothing to do with any of them. Probably trying to untangle his own feelings from what the mate bond placed on him. “Did you care for her then? Before you left?”

“Yes. The way she noticed my headaches, even if Nuala and Cerridwen told her.” He took a deep sigh, “I’ve been pining for Mor for centuries, she’s never once thought of that. No one had. She had shown me time and time again, she didn’t reciprocate… and that medicine….That medicine is what shifted things for me. Someone noticed me, but I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“Well. I’m not in love with you.” Nesta shrugged as everyone looked at her, bewildered, “I’m serious. The last solstice we were all together you got me that book light. And it was so simple but that gift meant a lot to me. You didn’t have to do that. But you’re kind. Elain is kind. If no one has shown you kindness like that its bound to bring up some emotions. And Elain is well… anyway shes kind. That’s who she is. I don’t know why she’d side with that guy but…just…just try and figure out what would make you happy.”

“They’re right. Being mates doesn’t mean much, I don’t think Nesta and I particularly liked each other when they forced her into the House of Wind. She became happy long before she came around to me at all, and even then I almost messed everything up.” Cassian thought back to when everyone was meant to keep Nesta’s real power quiet, he wouldn’t be able to do it. Not now. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Azriel smiled at his friend, happy after so many years of suffering plagued him. He could find something similar in Elain, if he wanted. Now that Feyre was on his side. So where did that leave Callista. Why was she still on his mind? Because they had unfinished business. “Nesta, you worked at the library for a bit right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you think theres any way I could find a way to undo a spell like the one we had here?”

“I don’t know… Gwyn would know better than me. I can ask her.”

Azriel can only nod. His energy depleted from the days events. The second Nyx is out of his arms he feels like retreating into himself. Nesta is quick to excuse herself and Cassian as she wants to start looing into the research, bored for something new to read. Feyre nodded ready for sometime alone with her mate, ready to figure out how to compromise without forcing everyone to choose sides again. Not again.

➽───────────────❥

“I forgot how big this place was.” Nesta grumbled, “We haven’t even touched a quarter of all the books having to do with Velaris.”

“Poor Azriel. This must be driving him crazy.” Gwyn said as she quickly scanned through another book before putting it back on the shelf. Nesta and Gwyn were the only ones still allowed to search after Azriel lost it after a couple months of finding nothing. He slammed one book down and Clotho made it clear he wasn’t welcome until the book was found.

“I think it bothers him more that Cassian is the one stuck babysitting.” Nesta joked.

“A lot of sparring I assume.” Nesta exaggeratedly nodded and the two had to stop themselves from laughing too loudly. “Has he told you why he wants to figure out the spell so badly yet?”

“Ugh, no. I mean I know the whole being stuck really you know…resonates with him. But theres something else.”

“You mean someone else?”

“You think so too?”

“So does Emerie. Is she visiting soon?”

“Yes, I asked Azriel to ask her to come today. Her family is still hounding her for the shop. I get worried about her.”

“Me too.” They both work for a couple more hours before they head back to the house of wind to deliver the unfortunate news once again to their friend.”

Nesta’s heart breaks at the small glimmer of hope she sees in Azriel’s eyes dying every time she steps back into the room. She shakes her head and he nods in understanding. Then as always, excuses himself. Cassian and Emerie run to meet them. The reunion momentarily takes precedence.

“I’m helping tomorrow.” Emerie states.

“The three of you at once? Nothing will get done then.” Cassian joked.

Nesta pushes him, “Anything to report?”

“He is going out for a couple hours and then we both go to see Rhys to tell him the same thing, nothing. Its too quiet. Even Eris reached out to see if everything was alright.”

“I guess when you live forever, you have time to wait.” Nesta frowns

“Until then, lets try and have a good time. We can all play some games, get Azriel to participate. Maybe cheer him up.” Gwyn offered

“Sounds like a great idea.” Cassian agreed, “He listens to you, Nesta.”

“Well come with me. You two make yourselves comfortable, okay.” She squeezes her friend’s hands and goes off to find the shadowsinger. She knocks softly at first, “Hey, Az?”

When there was no answer Cassian knocked more urgently, but it pushed open easily. They couldn’t breathe any sigh of relief as they found Azriel standing in front of some kind door made of pure night. He didn’t move. Seemingly entranced by the shadows that he had always followed. A gentle hand startled him, causing him to bring his knife out immediately.

“Its just us.” Nesta whispered

“Put the knife down. Now.” Cassian words were filled with venom. Brother or not, no one was going to do anything to Nesta as long as he was around. But Azriel was quick to sheath his weapon.

“So-sorry. Its just…Sorry.” The shadows dispersed.

“Are you going to go back?” Nesta asked

“I don’t know if I can. I didn’t summon them. It’s like a door that shows up every day. Like something is calling me back but I can’t step through it.” Truth was he was desperate and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Have you tried?” Cassian asked

“I don’t want to be wrong. Or end up somewhere I shouldn’t be.”

“Only one way to find out right?” Nesta asked, “If you end up anywhere else, you should be able to come back right away, right?”

“I guess.” Azriel said, still dazed

“Go find her. Maybe she can figure out how the spell around Velaris works.”

“What?” Azriel asked, not completely shocked but still surprised Nesta had figured anything out.

“You said the spell is strong there, but you were able to travel out your usual way. If all they do is practice magic maybe she can figure it out for herself. I’ll deal with Rhys.” Nesta took a step back, and Cassian nodded moving as close as he possibly could to his mate.

“Go. We’ll come up with something.”

Azriel blinked. Slowly facing the shadows reaching towards him. Pleading with him to step through. He took a deep breath before taking a few steps forward, disappearing from his friends sight. They both looked at each other, hoping he would come back much sooner than the last time he disappeared.

When Azriel opened his eyes, he was back in the room he had woken up in last. It was dark, as if no one had been here since he left, if this place was as difficult to find as Callista had said he supposed it made sense. But the air was cold, immediately he felt something was wrong. The pendant seemed to thrum against his chest. He threw the door open, expecting to find everyone gone or worse, hurt. Perhaps his presence had attracted an unwanted visitor. He suddenly couldn’t breathe and he scrambled to escape the small room that seemed to be shrinking the longer he stayed in there. His could see every breath as he stepped through the frosty air. The tree seemed to light up the otherwise pitch black area. Azriel suddenly remembers Callista telling him about the evenings there and beautiful it was. She was right.

Small orbs of light spread throughout the trees seemed illuminated the intricate design of snow encasing every branch and leaf. The wind seemed to whistle through the ice like crystals, the sound of bells tinkling through the air. The ice swirled around the homes of the faeries living inside, several of them lit up themselves as the people inside moved about, completely unaware of his presence. He looked down to the forest floor, children were having a snowball fight. His heart hurts at the thought of missing his own tradition several months ago. Still wondering if he had made the right choice then, wondering if this was the right choice now? He surveyed the people, the older fae were waving their hands, bending snow into shapes around them.

Azriels eyes stopped when he saw the wings. The pinks that melted into the wing. The softest sunburst gleam that made her stand out. She belonged in the dawn court, he thought. He could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He pressed his eyes shut, forced himself to breathe before he would go down to talk to her. When he opened them again she was gone, he heard the fluttering behind him before his shadows had a chance to warn him of anything.

“Azriel?”

“I did say I would find a way back here.” Callista tackled him into a hug, almost unseating his footing. He found himself burying his head into her hair, breathing in her perfume that brought him a surprising amount of comfort. His arms gently went around her waist, his hands resting on her shoulder blades, so delicate, so careful to not ruin her wings.

“I cant believe you actually did it.” She laughed as she pulled away.

Azriel smiled, trying to hide his disappointment at the distance Callista creates as she pulls away. “How long has it been here?”

“Here? Its been years?”

“Years?” Azriel assumed time would continue to drag here. He wondered how long a day would last here, “I’m sorry. Its only been a few months where I’m from. I was trying to find a way to figure out the spell surrounding this place.”

Callista’s face grew distant. When she could finally look away she cursed whatever was holding them here, “I hate this place.”

“I cant stay. I don’t understand it, but I had been missing several months when I went back the first time. Will you come with me? Maybe we could figure out a way to get everyone else out of here.”

“We do not know if I will be able to leave.”

“That’s true. But we wont know until we try.”

“I suppose not.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face, “Come with me. I need to alert some of others.”

“Syra?”

Callista’s face darkens, “No. Not her. Come on.”

Azriel doesn’t hesitate to grab her hand this time and flies down to where most of the children had gathered. She lets go only to whisper to one of the kids who quickly flew off somewhere Azriel couldn’t find. The second he’s out of sight Callista comes back up next to him and continues to hold his hand.

“Scout is our fastest flier. He likes delivering important messages. Should I get you some warmer clothes?”

Azriel quickly shakes his head, unaware how stiff his fingers are becoming or how the tip of his nose began reddening ever so slightly. In fact, he felt rather warm, his cheeks deepening due to the mix of sharp wind and his own blush at how openly affectionate Callista was. Perhaps it was in her nature. He noticed several other faeries not shying from the touch of the fae around them. Scout was quick to come, followed by several more faeries, all much more weathered than Callista and himself. She squeezed her his hand before letting go to address them.

“What is this we hear of you leaving?” One of the oldest there began

“No one has ever made it back, Tommin. This is a good sign. We could figure out how to get out of here.”

“We are perfectly fine here.”

“It could be better. Its not to say as if we can never come back.” Azriel studied every elder intensely yet only one seemed nervous. The others all strangely stoic, unworried about one of their own. They didn’t believe she could leave. Tommin continued to angrily speak at Callista. For her own part, she seemed indifferent to his ranting. As if shes used to all the irades around here.

“And if you cant leave? What if you get stuck in some kind of limbo in your attempt to leave?”

“That’s better than being a prisoner.”

“If we cant figure out how to lower the shield I can continue teleporting in. I’ll take as many as I can.” Azriel chimed in hoping to help.

“Not all of us feel the need to leave.”

“Great. Then you wont mind letting the ones go that do want to leave, right?”

“Callista. You have to stay, he can try with anyone else first.” Tommin turned to pleading, Azriel could hear his heartrate increase. He was hiding something. The elders eyes the stranger as the shadows seemed to grow around him, circling him in preparation for escape. Callista couldn’t understand the hesitation with her being the one not being allowed to go. No one had ever stopped her from trying before, why now? With so close of a guarantee. With so close of an answer.

“I’m leaving.” Callista walked back until she reached Azriel, she looked at him and he nodded. Wrapping his arm around his waist.

“Hold on tight,--”

“Callista. Stop!”

“Don’t.”

Several voices began to protest, but Azriel ignored them, “Don’t look.”

His voice was suddenly gravely serious. It was not a request, but a demand. AN order not to look at whatever was about to happen. Callista nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and hiding her face in the crook of his head. Azriel had his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against him. The darkness enveloped them, the screams growing fainter by the second. She remained silent, not daring to hope for anything short of a miracle. She could only grip tighter, comforted by Azriel’s reassuring squeeze. The shadow traveling literally took her breath away, it was to induce panic inside of her, her stomach seemed to be sinking deeper into her body. Suddenly, everything stopped. Her hair finally falling back down around her. She didn’t move, afraid that when she opened her eyes she would be right back where she started.

Azriel pressed his lips against her temple, trying his best not to overwhelm her, “We’re here.”

Callista releases the air she was holding back in her lungs. Prying herself off of him in disbelief. She immediately wants to rush to the window but Azriel is quick to grab her arm. “What are you doing?”

“Not yet. You remember the friend I told you about? He’s almost here. You have to wait just a little longer. It will be very overwhelming. Believe me, please.”

She knew he was right. It didn’t make things easier but he was right, “How do you know?”

“I have some help.” He smirked, “Stay here, I will have some friends get you some more comfortable clothes. They will lead you down to meet everyone. I would like to show you around, if that’s okay…”

“I’ll wait to sneak a peek.” She pauses as he begins to exit the room she was left in. Callista begins feeling incomplete. Whatever help she had offered him couldn’t compare to what he had done for her. Nothing would ever compare to this. Freedom. She was finally free. The very air she breathed felt different, lighter. “Azriel!”

He freezes, worried she wants to return already. “Is everything okay.”

“Yes…its just…thank you.”

He offered her a smile and slightly bowed his head. Swallowing the lump in his throat as he readied himself to face his friends. His high lord. This was not going to be easy. Everyone was there. Even Gwyn and Emerie had come back.

They all stared as he entered the room. Before Rhysand could even begin questioning Azriel turned to Cassian. “How long?”

“Only a few days this time.”

He breathed a sigh of relief thanking whatever entity was out there that nothing happened while he was gone. It had only been a few days, no wonder the Valkyries were still here. No war, no deaths. Otherwise, Rhysand would have made his presence known immediately. He was still unhappy, but his curiosity got the better of him. That and he was glad that Azriel decided to come back at all.

“We hear you brought a visitor.” Rhysand starts.

“Yes, she will be joining us soon. She’s getting some new clothes. Nuala and Cerridwen are helping her right now.”

“Good, we want to make our guests feel welcome. Right, Rhys?”

He gritted his teeth but agreed, “Of course, Feyre darling. Of course, we still have some questions for her.”

“Are you planning on interrogating her? She has never known anything outside her home. Do you have to do it now?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Nesta said, “You went to get her to learn more about the spell around Velaris. Right? Shes done nothing to warrant an interrogation. We are simply going to meet her. Shes a guest.”

“Why don’t we all eat dinner? We can just meet eachother.” Feyre agreed

“We should ask why the hell she kept him there for months. She could have enchanted you? Are you seriously that dense?” Amren scoffed, “Why cant Rhys use his abilities on her?”

That was news to Azriel. “I told you her whole kingdom was shielded even more heavily than Velaris. It probably extends to the people there.”

“Then you should take us all there.” Amren glared, trying to get a rise out of Azriel. “To be immune from those powers would be very beneficial to our cause, no?”

“And if when we come back the war has come and gone? I was gone for days and when I returned it had been months. I wasn’t even there a full day this last time, and its been days. Callista said it had been years since I had left. Its too big a risk.”

“And the only way there is through Azriel.” Rhys states, “Unfortunately, he is right. But there’s a chance this Callista knows more than she lets on. We will try and figure out how much she knows.”

“Well, where is she?” Mor asks, very clearly annoyed. “Lets get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” Callista walks into the living area, the presence of her magnificent wings drawing gasps from most everyone, Nesta and Mors eyes widened, Cassians mouths dropped, the only one who maintained an uninterested poker face was Rhysand and Amren. Callista for her part was shocked she was the only one among company with wings at all. She stepped beside Azriel, he noticed she wore a soft, pale pastel green dress. It was adorned with flowers: pinks, yellows, and purples to compliment her wings. It flowed out at the skirt, with the sleeves swooping around her shoulders. Her long hair almost flowed to her waist. No one had so effortlessly been born a High Fae. Azriel couldn’t stop staring. She looked as ethereal as the first day he had seen her.

“What?’

“You look lovely.” Azriel said softly, a small smile growing on Callistas face.

“Thank you.” She turned to face everyone else, she slightly curtsied in their direction. “And thank you for having me. I apologize for dropping in so unexpectedly.”

“Lets eat, theres a lot to discuss.” The high lord stands up, “I apologize if this seems like a lot on your first day here.”

“You must be Rhysand. I don’t mind answering any questions. I have nothing to hide.”

Another scoff from Amren, still sitting on the floor, “Yeah. Right.”

This shakes Nesta out of her daze, “I’m Nesta. Will you please join us?”

Everyone stares at the interaction between Callista and Rhysand. Neither of them backing down from each other. Rhysand had no power to keep the newcomer in place. She was a threat. And almost every person there could agree that they would need to watch her. Nesta’s request brings out a dazzling smile from their unexpected guest.

“I would love to. Can I help in any way?”

“The food will be ready by the time we walk into the dining room.” Nesta assured her, “Can I sit by you?”

“Yes, I think I would feel safer that way actually.” This response gets a good laugh out of Gwyn, Emerie, and Cassian. Azriel moves quietly, suddenly feeling like no longer speaking. Exhausted. He made sure to tell Nuala and Cerridwen to ensure all of the curtains were not drawn. Tired as he was, he was anxious to show his world to Callista. He wondered when he would be able to talk to her alone.

“She seems nice, Az.” Feyre whispers as squeezes her arm before joining hands with her own mate. Azriel can hear the hushed ‘be nice,’ she hisses at Rhysand. Azriel stops when Cassian holds him back behind everyone.

“Don’t let them treat her like Nesta. I failed her. A lot. I’m still trying to make it up to her. But…just—don’t do what I did.”

“I won’t.” He realizes he doesn’t protest at the implications that Callista was his Nesta. This was not the time. Azriel decides to sit next to Rhys after seeing the other seat next to Callista. Amren was across from her, studying or glaring the entire time. Almost unblinking.

“So, Callista. How did you get Azriel to stay away for so long? Did he hurt himself that badly?” Mor asked in her most saccharine voice

“His wings were not in the best shape. He was asleep for several days. We didn’t want to rush the healing process or have it healed in correctly. He left the same day he woke up. But time does move differently where I come from.”

“And how would you know that? If you supposedly cant leave?”

Callista’s eyes seem to water for a split second, “I told Azriel once that we had a man stay with us for years. More than a decade. My friend he…he fell in love with him. One day the man became frantic, worried about his wife. A wife we had no idea existed. He left that day, but my friend demanded he write him. That he respond to a letter that would find him when he was home. According to one of the letters, when he returned only a week has passed. No one had even begun to worry about him. He had aged and his wife doubted he was the same person who had left for whatever battle he had gone to fight. The second time my friend sent a letter, it took him too long. He sent a long confession against our conservations. Three days passed…When we got a reply it was from a man claiming to be the son of the man who had found us. He had died three years prior. We never sent any more letters. I cannot claim to understand how time seems to move so curiously.”

“Did he fall through the sky too?” Amren pouted her lips as she asked, Azriel clenched his fists at her unnecessary cruelness.

“No. He was not fae. He was a human. Washed up in one of the riverbanks. We never know how they get there, nor how they leave. Except Azriel no one has come back to let us know personally. Up until he came back, I half guessed that letter was just a way of letting my friend down easily.” Not once did she seem even slightly bothered by the questions, impressing almost everyone and infuriating the main instigator.

“So, what do you know?” Amren pressed

“Enough.” Azriel voice cut through like a knife, “This is not an interrogation. Let her eat.”

“Its alright. I suppose it all does seem strange. But its all I know. All I’ve known. But if you plan on questioning me, I deserve the same courtesy, correct? Or are the people in this circle you speak of the only ones allowed to speak?”

“Wh—” Amren is about to begin yelling but Callista refuses to be talked over

“I’ll even ask the same questions. Where are you from? How did you get there? What do you know about that world? Please, I’m very curious.” She is only staring at Amren as if she knows exactly what Amren is. She is about to respond but Callista almost immediately turns to Mor, “And you, you claim I enchanted him? Could I not ask you the same? Why have you kept him so close after seeing the pain he was in, keeping him close enough to get his hopes up?”

Mor lips tightens as she suddenly stabs some food on her plate with her fork. Callista shrugs and begins eating. Cassian can only stare in shock, his hand covers his mouth. Hoping it stops him from saying some joke that would get either lady from the inner circle angry at him. Nesta and the Valkyries share a look, Elain is silent, never looking up from her plate.

“Ignore them Callista, I do.” Nesta said as she continued eating. “Emerie, tell me. Hows the business going at the Ilyrian camp? Is your uncle still bothering you? Should we just take care of him?”

“Oh Gods, no. Not yet. They cant do much anymore. What with Cassian constantly checking on the camp and making sure everyone is at least being respectful.” The conversation continues for a while to give the poor girl a chance to recover before more questions inevitably came her way. Soon after everyone introduced themselves and how they met eachother. Callista stored everything to memory, determined to show them that at the very least, she was polite enough to genuinely care. And she asked as many questions as she could. Their stories were interesting and it was nice to hear literally anything new after a lifetime of hearing the same stories over and over. Callista worried she would have to go back. She could never go back, not now that she knew there was so many things that were possible. She hoped Azriel would finally allow her to take a look at the world so far away from her own.

Azriel remained silent. Watching to ensure everything goes smoothly. Rhysand only asks one question, “Callista, Azriel said the magic surrounding your home was stronger than anything he had seen. What kind of magic protects it?”

“If I knew I would have figured out a way to remove it. My magic mainly lies in healing, and I can hide things quite well. Azriel called it a glamour? But I assume you’re asking because you also want to try and figure out why you cannot do the mind reading thing I’ve heard about. I don’t know why something would protect me from that.”

Azriels eyes shoot up at her. The words were deliberate. She was not lying but omitting very key details. She takes another bite of food and smirks at him flipping her hair to one side, a gleam of gold flashes ever so slightly. She had come prepared. Somehow, Syra had given her some kind jewelry to prevent Rhysand from spying on her private thoughts. The silence around them is almost deafening, only the sounds of silverware scraping echoes through the room.

Azriel lightly cleared his throat, “Well. This was great but if you’ll excuse me. I did promise Callista I would show her around for a bit.”

She couldn’t stand up any quicker, “Can we?”

“Az, you should start at the training pad.” Nesta nods in the general direction before standing up herself, “We will have to talk more tomorrow, Callista.”

“I’d like that.” Callista smiled warmly and wrapped her arm around Azriels as they exited the room.

Nesta returned the smile and grabbed Emerie and Gwyn, simply leaving the dinner and the guests that imposed themselves on it. Cassian only cleared his throat, “Well…that’s that.”

“She was nice.” Feyre tried to continue some sort of discussion

“Sure.” Mor scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Because you were so warm and inviting?” Cassian joked

“Wasn’t I?” She rolled her yes but smiled at her friend, she knew she didn’t make it easy on either of the Ilyrians special ‘friends.’ She wondered how long they were all going to ignore how close the two had become acquainted. Or if they were going to bring it up. She still didn’t like the outsider, but she could respect Callista standing up for herself.

“I don’t trust her.” Amren crosses her arms.

“You don’t trust anyone.” Feyre said, “No one can be trusted with information as far as your concerned. I think you’ve been wrong before. With me and Nesta.”

“I wasn’t wrong.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her.” Rhysand stood, “We will give them a couple days before we ask her to try and figure out the spell.”

“What if she wants to stay with him?” Cassian asked a little too seriously

“We will discuss that when it comes to that.”

“He’ll never forgive you if you don’t let her stay. He will leave.” Cassian stared down his brother, and got a nod in response before he headed out with Feyre and Elain. The latter still silent, still analyzing tonights events.

➽───────────────❥

Azriel led Callista to the stairway up to the training pad, stopping right before they headed outside. “You have one?”

“Yes. Syra made one for me right after you left. I haven’t taken it off since.” She pulled hers out, the metal string holding the small circular gem that almost looked too thin. As if touching it would cause it to crumble. The gem also looked completely different. It was a blinding white, that seemed to glow as she held it up. As if a star had been captured in the small circle. Azriel pulled his own out to compare, still pitch black. He could swear something was moving inside of his but quickly put it back. Not wanting to over think anything else right now.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” She takes a deep breath as Azriel opens the door. Her mouth drops at the endless sea of stars. How he ever let her go on about her home being beautiful at night when this is what he fell asleep to should be criminal. She must have looked so foolish. She didn’t care. She would owe him the rest of her existence. Azriel could only stare at her. The stars shining in her eyes, he could only hope she would allow him to be the one who would show her the rest of Prythian.

“Our home is most beautiful at night too.”

“Theres no comparison. I cant believe you kept a straight face.” She laughed and reached for his hand, “They look so close.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, only takes her hand as she walks closer to the edge of the pad. “Have you ever flown with this much space?”

“No.” She says, completely shocked by her own lack of realization, “But I’m about to.” She squeezes his hand before running to the end and jumping off the mountain. Azriel has a moment of panic before she flies back up, laughing at how far free her wings could spread. Not having to worry about the thicket of trees possibly stopping or snagging her wings. She had become quite adept in maneuvering around all of the obstacles in her home. The lack of obstacles made her giddy. Absolutely filled with a joy she could have never imagined.

Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie eventually joined Azriel out on the training pad. Nesta stepped beside him, “Why aren’t you flying with her?” She hissed under her breath.

I don’t want to bother her, Azriel thought before Callista landed before them. “Fly with me! Is there anyway we can take Nesta and Gwyn?”

“Actually I cant.” Emerie said taking a step back.

“I’m sorry, I didn—”

“No! I would love to but… I haven’t been able to for a while.” She turned to show her clipped Ilyrian wings. Callista’s face grew serious

“Who did that to you.”

“My father. Hes gone now, but…”

“But nothing. Do you miss it? The flying?” Nesta was ready to yell at her for pushing her friend but Cassian put his hand on her, gesturing for her to wait.

“Everyday.” Emerie replied

Callista turned to Azriel, “Be ready to catch me, okay?”

She walked up to Emery, placing one of her hands on her wing, and one on her arm. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Callista didn’t answer. She began murmuring under her breath, her own wings glowing a soft pink. Emerie’s own wings seemed to glow. Her head whipped back and forth as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She suddenly let out a gasp, a slight moan leaving her lips as her eyes grew wide.

“Emerie!” Gwyn and Nesta cried

Callista released and took a shaky breath before stepping backwards. Everyone rushed towards Emerie before she spread out her wings. Nesta took a step back as her friend fully stretched her wings, not a hint of pain in sight. Gwyn immediately had her arms wrapped around her friends neck, still in disbelief that her wings felt whole again. Azriel could only stare in shock as everyone inspected Emeries wings. Cassian began asking him how it was even possible. He couldn’t answer. This kind of healing was unheard of. It was impossible to heal clipped wings. It should be impossible. He opened his mouth to ask her how she learned this kind of magic, how long would it last, did she ever have to do this before?

The shadows half whispered half screamed at him to pay attention, his head whipped to see Callista losing consciousness and falling to the ground.

Taglist: @bubybubsters @mich0731 @azziessidehoe @cleverzonkwombatsludge

#acotar #acotar imagine #acotar fic #azriel shadowsinger #Azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #acotar azriel #Azriel acotar imagine #acotar azriel imagine

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crescentmoonlupin · 2 months

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If you need help, I'm here to listen..

There are days that are easier than others. When you have depression, you tend to feel like the world is against you and it just feels like a constant battle that no matter how hard you fight, how much experience you have with it, it just never seems to be enough to throw at the problem. And of course, giving up is never ever an option cause once you do, the monster you are battling just gets bigger. Bigger to the point you just must live with the drooling, foaming beast.

I’ve had depression for a number of years, as of 2024, it’s been about 14 years since I was originally diagnosed, but about 17 since it first manifested itself within my mind. It's never been an easy beast to live with. I’ve tried destroying it by destroying myself. I held it down, but the bubbles never stopped coming up. I tried to drown it in sex, making it seem like the reason I was upset so much was because I was alone and needed the company to get me through, I cut myself so I could hold some sort of “control” over it but, of course that never works. Eventually it becomes an addiction that you don't realize you started, and it takes everything in you to stop. Years even.

To this day, I am still self-destructive. Some days, I wish I could still continue hurting myself, but I know its counterproductive, it’ll never solve anything. It just hurts everyone else who happens to catch it when the wounds are fresh. Cutting myself didn’t make me feel better in the sense I thought it would, it just gave me a false sense of control over something I didn’t have control over. The chemicals in my brain didn’t do what they were supposed to when they were supposed to, and I suffered the consequences.

I wanted to blame everyone else for my problems. My mother, my father, my stepparents. Sisters. Everyone who wasn’t me. “You made me do this!” I’d say, when really, I was the one who put the razor or knife to my skin and pulled. I made it count, I counted every mark, and it’s not a pretty number. Not only did I cut but I carved words into my skin, so I would remember why I did it in the first place. So many initials. Failure. Perfect. HIT ME! I’M NOTHING! Sorry :] Smile. And the list goes on from there. Now it’s just a bunch of scars.

I’m not ashamed of them, and I don’t really regret them, they’re part of me and it was what I thought I needed at the time, ultimately, I was wrong in the end, but teenagers never listen, do they?

I do wish I could go back though, and just talk to myself. Tell myself it does, eventually, gets better. That things do start going right, years down the road. That it’s not worth it to be so angry all the time, and to learn to love myself sooner so I didn’t have t struggle as badly as I am now at almost 30, because yes, we do make it past the age of 18, as surprising as that is for me to even believe to this day. Eventually we meet a man who loves us in his own special way, and we have the most beautiful son to raise together. And he loves that little boy as if he was made from his own blood. He reads him bedtime stories and helps him learn to walk. He teaches him to ride a bike and plays in his sandbox with him, the one he made him for his second birthday.

Things do get better, but you have to fall down so you can get back up, so you can grow up the way you need to, because it is necessary. Because as soon as you heard that little boy’s heartbeat for the first time, you know, you just knew, that everything was going to change and you knew that you would do anything for him, even if it meant changing everything so he could grow up better than you did. So, he can go farther than you ever got. So, you can make sure he is actually stable and doesn’t have to recover from his childhood. Make sure he is okay and knows he is heard.

I just hope I’m doing the right things when it comes to that little boy because I don’t know where I’d be or who I would be without him. There’re days where I struggle and all I want to do is to curl up into a ball and cry till I fall asleep. But I have this little boy watching me every day and I just have to keep going to make sure he has everything he needs to grow into a respectable human and a caring man. Fight for what’s right but know when to step back as well.

#support #self harm #recovery #growing up #im here #ill listen #you are not alone #no matter what #seek help #you are enough #depression #cutting #cutter #you are loved #you matter

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moodymisty · 3 months

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Absolutely DELIGHTFUL Lorgar thoughts Misty!! Just to add on to what you’ve added on about me adding on to what you wrote (wow, that’s a long sentence):

“But when he doesn't, when he listens to you more and more, perhaps he starts even venting to you, walking through what he needs to do next-”

Is… Is Lorgar ever going to tell the reader about what happened during his childhood? Would he ever tell you about the tribe that first found him, and what Kor Phaeron ordered to be done to them? Or about how he grew up in the desert, and what Kor Phaeron made him go through?

Would he??

Would he tell you those things, just in passing conversation? maybe hesitate a little bit when pried for more details. Or if he talked about it, telling you “it was not as bad as you may think, beloved” when he sees the expression of horror on your face. He’s the son of the Emperor, he says. It was done for a reason, he assures you. And yet you don’t feel assured. You feel appalled. I’d even say you feel angry. Terribly, terribly angry. How dare Kor Phaeron even look his son in the eyes after what he did to him?! How dare he even call him his “son”?!!

You hold Lorgar close to you that night, your arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders and his face pressed into your collarbone. You’re glad he trusts you enough to tell you this information. And while you stare into the darkness of the room, you contemplate on the universe you live in.

You’re going to visit Terra soon, you’re going to meet the rest of Lorgar’s family, you’re going to be a far bigger part of the Imperium than you had ever dreamed of.

There are things you don’t yet know about. Of how Lorgar is already planning the wedding, or how Kor Phaeron keeps a picture of you to throw knives at sometimes, or how in the darkest parts of the galaxy, beyond the planets and constellations, in the deepest reaches of space. There are gods that before only focused on Lorgar, that now turn their gaze upon you.

But that isn’t what’s happening right now. Right now your love is asleep in your arms, and every bad thing that will occur is a million lifetimes away. He’s happy, he’s content. And you’ll do everything in your power to keep it that way. Even though you’re just a mortal, even if it may kill you. You just love him far too much to let anything like that happen to him ever again.

(Did anyone else read Lorgar: Bearer Of The Word by Gav Thorpe and imagine beating Kor Phaeron to death with a steel chair WWE style? No?? Just me?? Oh well... *walks away sadly*)

I think Lorgar would tell them a very short and condensed version, and avoids quite a few of the more 'unsavory' parts. He excuses it as trying to spare someone far more starry eyed of horrors, but its also because he refuses to show weakness about it. It's what made him the man he is today, and it's far easier to frame it that way that admit that what Kor Phaeron did to him was pretty unarguably horrid even by the standards of the Primarchs. (Guilliman remarks about it briefly in one of the books)

Talking to him about it is going to be a fruitless effort because of his stalwart view of it, and the way he sees it as molding and creating a man worthy of his stature rather than abuse.

It's far more productive for you to be a comforting place for Lorgar to come to when he needs a soft hand, or an ear. Once that he begins to take solace in more and more as he realizes how it (you) make him feel. That's more than likely the moment he realizes how irrevocably in love with you he is, if he hasn't already.

Kor Phaeron is of course boiling somewhere in private because he planted so much in Lorgar with the intent to reap it and you've been slowly tearing it all down, and cementing yourself as not only his lover, but now his confidant. That was a previously a position held only to Kor Phaeron, and he'd considering doing something personally about this matter if you weren't halfway to Terra.

Lorgar is beaming with happiness and pride, you're in love and happy to see him happy, and Kor Phaeron is in the background creating a negative energy vortex so vast half the chapter has to grab onto something.

#Misty's book club #lorgar x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #anon you don't have a name but i know you sent that new spicy ask in my box i'll answer it soon because it's tasty

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caelyne · 3 months

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on one hand, there IS a problem with people going "you're just hating on ships uwu❀" as a shoddy smokescreen for posting and justifying pedophilia, which is why a lot of people are wary about 'pro-ship' claims. but on the other hand, far too many people are jumping to the conclusion that because of the above, everyone who defends ships is a pedophile. sometimes they're genuinely just against harassing people over "cringe" ships and didn't know about the creeps abusing the term. ...and then some people make it very transparent that they actually don't give a shit about that and just want to use this confusion as an excuse to harass people for an ego trip.

yah i definitely see more of the latter than anything else. maybe i'm just not in the space of witnessing Creeps misusing the term, but I'm starting to think I should be paid a dollar everytime I gotta witness some stupid discourse over someone liking something incorrectly. and If there's anything I've grown to absolutely detest lately is other people telling artists, creatives, or anyone really, what to do or how to enjoy their interests.

its so easy to disengage from something if it makes you uncomfortable. You could block. You could mute. You could turn your computer off. I recommend the last one actually, for people who go around harassing and making other people's lives miserable or difficult. but hey I guess it is just easier to write a long ass DNI that literally no fucking person is ever going to read and blame other people for *Interacting* with your posts. I don't think people realize the absurdity of drawing appealing art and then expecting someone to not like/follow/reblog simply because your dissertation on content/themes that you dislike happens to list something that describes an interest of said individual that is interacting with you.

ill say it again, people spend way too much time thinking about shit that makes them unhappy. free yourself from the toxicity that is the cop in your mind. you dont like someone/something? take responsibility for your own damn self, grow the hell up, and take steps to disengage from stuff that makes you angry enough to HATE people over it. its so fucking ridiculous lmfao

#catte.meow #catte.asks

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reclusivebookslug · 9 months

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Bella Swan is Autistic: An Analysis

(Disclaimers: I enjoy Twilight in spite of its problematic elements, not because of them or in ignorance of them. There are as many different ways to be autistic as there are autistic people. Many allistic people will relate on some level to some aspects of the autistic experience; this does not make them autistic. This is all just my opinion, based on my experience as a late-diagnosed, low-support-needs autistic woman. I am aware this is not a brand-new original idea.)

I reread Twilight (I think for the first time since getting diagnosed 4 years ago) and I found a bunch of things I relate to Bella about. Below the cut is a list of some of her autism-related character traits with quotes for textual evidence. The links lead to articles explaining how these traits relate to autism. The list is ordered chronologically based on page number of the accompanied quotes. Page numbers are based on the paperback edition with ISBN-13: 9780316015844. A backslash in a quote signifies a paragraph break. I’ll update if I read any of the other books or rewatch the movies and anything new comes up.

Bella has trouble regulating her emotional expressions: she has to put conscious effort into how she presents herself

"I'd always been a bad liar" (p. 4). "For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency" (p. 25). "I had never been enormously tactful" (p. 31). "'My face is so easy to read -- my mother always calls me her open book'" (p. 50).

Bella is shy and a bit socially awkward: she avoids attention for fear of embarrassment

"Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him" (p. 7). "Mr. Varner... was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat" (p. 17). "To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of the week" (pp. 68-69).

Bella feels different from other people: she doesn’t know how to connect with others and feels pressure to fit in

"I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain" (pp. 10-11). "I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else" (p. 47). “'My mind doesn't work right? I'm a freak?' The words bothered me more than they should -- probably because his speculation hit home. I'd always suspected as much, and it embarrassed me to have it confirmed" (p. 181).

Bella has a unique sense of humor: other people don’t get her jokes and she doesn’t get other peoples’ jokes

"'You don't look very tan.' / 'My mother is part albino.' / He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm" (p. 16). “Bella was being unintentionally funny” (p. 367).

Bella finds comfort in routine: the change in routine from moving was difficult for her, and she felt better once the new routine became familiar

"I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly" (p. 33).

Bella is academically gifted: she finds assignments easier than her peers do, she has already read the books assigned in her English course

"'Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?' / 'Yes'" (p. 47).

Bella enjoys being alone: she is introverted and enjoys solitary activities

"In a lot of ways, living with Charlie was like having my own place, and I found myself reveling in the aloneness instead of being lonely" (p. 54). "I've never minded being alone" (p. 241).

Bella has motor difficulties: she is clumsy, uncoordinated, accident-prone, and bad at sports

"Possibly my crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic, casting me as a damsel in distress" (p. 55). "My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings" (p. 136).

Bella has special interests: Edward and books

"... no one else was as aware of Edward as I always was. No one else watched him the way I did" (p. 69). "I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me" (p. 135)? "... they didn't know how preoccupied I could get when surrounded by books; it was something that I preferred to do alone" (p. 156).

Bella is perceived as different by others: a history of social exclusion is hinted at, Edward’s mind-reading doesn’t work on her

"'It's better if we're not friends,' he explained. 'Trust me.' / My eyes narrowed. I'd heard that before” (pp. 74-75). "He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped" (p. 83). "'My mom always says I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year'" (p. 106). ".'.. maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM'” (p. 181). "'You're not like anyone I've ever known. ... / ... 'I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you ... you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise'" (p. 245).

Bella has sensory differences: she notices and is bothered by things others don’t and aren’t, she engages in sensory-seeking and sensory-avoiding behavior when stressed

"'People can't smell blood,' he contradicted. / 'Well, I can -- that's what makes me sick. It smells like rust ... and salt" (p. 100). "I put in my headphones, hit Play, and turned up the volume until it hurt my ears. I closed my eyes, but the light still intruded, so I added a pillow over the top of my face" (pp. 129-130). "'You're always crabbier when your eyes are black ... I expect it then' ... 'I have a theory about that'" (p. 171). “For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking” (p. 425).

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noxexistant · 4 months

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Hiii nox, can I please possibly request "that was probably the least sincere apology i've ever received.” (If you could throw a little Skittery in there perhaps)

accidentally dropped the whole skittery in there my b

------

“I’m sorry.”

It’s maybe the eight thousandth time Jack’s said it. Skittery might be sure that Jack’s forgotten how to say anything else, just reduced himself in his entirety to worthless apologies that Skittery can’t do anything with but ignore. But Jack’s a stubborn bastard, and never could deal with the thought that any of his boys were upset with him. He’s a controlling piece of shit, likes to paint himself their patriarch, their leader and king - all of that, and then goes and stabs them in the back for cash anyway.

And he’s explained. Maybe six thousand times to the eight thousand apologies, how it wasn’t really for the money. How it was selfless, really, he’d just wanted to protect them.

Wanted to protect Davey, at least.

But Skittery knows better than ever now that Cowboy’s full of shit. A traitor and a liar who could so easily turn on them again, probably only regrets doing it at all because of how things had turned out. And he never knows how to let nothing go, even when Skittery breaks away from the group all reunited and stumbles outside for a bitter smoke, praying for a moment of peace, maybe the will to calm down so the kids can stop giving him those godawful looks.

“I really am sorry.”

But it’s Jack again.

“I swear, Skits, I…”

He should’ve known Jack would follow him. Jack would follow anyone anywhere to bargain, to talk, to get the last goddamn word in.

“I’m sorry, alright? I’ll be better.”

“Well, that was probably the least sincere apology I’ve ever received,” Skittery spits, the words out of his mouth before he’s had a chance to think better, choke them back like he’s been doing since Jack came back. He knocks his thumb against the butt of his cigarette and watches the ash tumble to the ground, tries to tell himself he’ll be half calm by the time it lands.

It doesn’t even get to before Jack is talking again.

“I just don’t know what you want from me,” he says, splaying his palms in frustration. Something like humility. And he’s back in his pauper clothes now, but all Skittery can see is the one he’d been dressed in for the rally, that fine warm clean new costume of a wealthier man. No more selfish than Jack truly is, but so much easier to identify as such.

He’s even more a liar now, back dressed like he’s one of them again. Like that’s a call he can make.

“I—I’ve said I’m sorry, an’ I am, an’ all the rest of the guys, they’re fine. What is it with you? Why can’t you forgive me?”

Skittery wasn’t done with his smoke, wants the rest of it desperately and can’t afford to waste it regardless, but he’s too angry to keep it. He tosses it down and watches, stomach turning with his fury, as its cherry sparks and spits embers as it rolls across the cobbles, like it’s angry too.

“The fact you’re asking’ forgiveness is one thing,” he says, calmer than he feels. “If you’d jus’ been sorry. Apologised an’ meant it and that’d been it. But no, no, you’re beggin’ forgiveness as quick as you’re sayin’ you’re sorry - it’s about you. Not me. Ain’t never about me.”

“I want you to forgive me,” Jack says, quiet, and Skittery rounds on him.

“Well, I don’t!” he hollers. “You’re a fuckin’ scab! A traitor, an’ you can’t take that back. You fuckin’ grovel an’ beg an’ you can’t take that back.”

“I gave the money back—”

“But you took it. An’ you put the clothes on, an’ you turned your back on us, an’ you went.”

Skittery kicks himself off the wall and drags his hand down his face. Wishes he could soak Jack, break his damn nose, make him sorry in a way that matters. But he’s tired. The kids are all inside and they’re so damn happy to have Cowboy back.

Skittery heads back inside too, but tosses one last statement over his shoulder.

“Wish you ain’t bothered comin’ back.”

#answered #i-didnt-do-1t #my writing #skittery newsies #jack kelly #92sies #uksies

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princeescaluswords · 5 months

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not sure if it was meant to be done elsewhere, but my favorite fic of yours is 'Ten Things That Scott McCall Can't Say'!

Thank you!

I wanted to point out something. In Second Chance at First Line (1x02) Scott gets angry at Stiles while riding in the Jeep because he feels Stiles is treating Scott's transformation and the danger like a quest in a video game:

Scott: I can't find anything about wolfsbane being used for burial. Stiles: Just keep looking. Maybe it's like a ritual or something, like maybe they bury you as a wolf. Or maybe it's like a special skill, you know? Like something you have to learn. Scott: I'll put it on my to - do list, right underneath figuring out how the hell I'm playing this game tonight. Stiles: Maybe it's different for girl werewolves. Scott: Okay! Stop it! Stiles: Stop what? Scott: Stop saying "werewolves"! Stop enjoying this so much.

Now, we're supposed to believe that Scott's agitated mental state is due to the wolfsbane rope concealed in Stiles's backpack, but this scene also marks something else, just as important. This is the last time we see Scott get angry at Stiles because of how Stiles behaves toward Scott. Scott may become exasperated at Stiles's insistence on murder as a solution when it comes to Derek, Jackson, and Liam, but that is in defense of others, and Scott does judge Stiles in Lies of Omission (5x09) when he believes that Stiles kills Donovan to protect his father, but I cannot think of another time when Scott expresses anger or even frustration at Stiles at how Stiles treats him specifically. If you've read my blog know I believe that there were plenty of opportunities for this.

Now, moving forward to the other end of Scott's character development, compare this exchange to the scene in Pressure Test (6x15), where Scott is gathering his things to leave Beacon County after his father negotiates a deal.

Rafael: Look, I know this isn't what you wanted, but it's the right decision. When Stilinski called... Scott: Can you hand me that shirt right there? Rafael: Now, you can be mad at me, but I'd rather watch you leave the state than watch you die. Scott: (SIGHS) I'm not mad. I get why you did it. Rafael: Scott, you're not the only one who gets to protect his family. I'll be downstairs.

We've seen Scott lay into his father before in Insatiable (3x23), but he doesn't in this instance. While the circumstances are different, both scenes have a character making what's happening to Scott about them instead. But now, six seasons have passed, and Scott has learned that there are things he can't say -- or, more precisely, emotions he can't express during a crisis situation.

Teen Wolf made it a point to explore the burdens of leadership. Derek was an incompetent alpha because he made decisions based on his emotional reactions to events -- anger at what had been done to him and his family -- and Scott has managed to mature into someone who can put aside his own emotions in order to do what must be done. Scott has demonstrated this growth, and he will do it again in Season 6 when -- after a harrowing night of listening to his mother struggle to live on the operating table -- he goes to Peter -- Peter! -- and asks him to join the fight against Monroe.

Personally, I literally seethe in reaction to that scene in Eichen House in Werewolves of London (6x17), but the show was relentless in its conviction that a good leader has to put their own emotional responses to the side in order to be effective. I would have loved if Scott had unloaded, verbally or physically, on Peter after that villain enabled a fanatic to point an assault rifle at his own daughter and the man trying to protect his ungrateful ass, but that wouldn't have made stopping Monroe any easier. So Scott didn't.

Fanfiction gives us what canon didn't, and the lesson Scott learn about suppressing his own reasonable emotional responses is what I explored in this story. I suspect that the movie commented on that by having Scott move to Los Angeles -- somewhere he could be free to express himself -- but I wish it had been more explicit.

#scott mccall #scott mccall defense squad #stiles stilinski #rafael mccall #second chance at first line #pressure test #true alpha #my writing

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slainesthrone · 6 months

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Realistically no matter what red team does they will always be a target, yesterday was a fluke that will not happen often in these 2 weeks. Like yesterday despite Blue being the prior winner, those that logged on didn't really bother too much as far as I could tell. And yet, theres this rush against Red because they won Yesterday, Blue and Green - have some sort of uneasy alliance and are looking for reds base to grief/steal (Or at least were - I can't watch two streams at once rn.) Green is angry about the raid yesterday - thats understandable but theres not much reason for Blue to go after Red rn, other than them being easy targets, easy place to get resources from, as they know Red must've gathered a lot the day before.

Blue and Green haven't really gone after each other much - Because it wouldn't be worth it, theres an easier option, theres an easier target.

I think when ever Red claws anything for themselves the other teams will be there to take it and there won't be anything Red can do but try again, while Blue and Green avoid each other except for meetings at the center.

Blue and Green during a lull in activity have approached each other in somewhat friendly ways. But Red hasn't joined in, idk man that just hits different y'know? Its like Red team can't trust the other teams to have good intentions with them, except Quackity because c'mon whats he gonna do.

Red is playing a loosing game and if they end up being cursed the other teams will have no one else to blame but themselves. They can look at Red and ask "WHy didn't you try harder?!" but Red did try but their efforts are only to feed the other teams. Their efforts will only get them pushed down more. Try or not, Red will lose unless they are the only team on the server.

When they get going they WILL go! but, they are an easy soruce of points, and any move to get points is going to put them in more danger than other teams, so they are going to struggle.

#Qsmp #idk just some toughts #i am also very eepy #got up at 3 am today lololol

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spotsupstuff · 8 months

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Does Boreas truly love his family or does he simply see it as a responsibility to take care of them simply because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you have family? How does he react when he loses them in the canon timeline?

well, when Zephyr fell and went dark he was messed up by it so badly he never really got out of it even after he takes up raising and caring for batflies. he's so used to feeling anger all the time and hardly anything else that he doesn't know how to deal with the feelings Zephyr's passing makes him go through. he essentially becomes paralyzed in the grief, which is actually the main thing that destroys Mission Self-preservation

that's what this meme basically addresses-

if he socialized better, wasn't caught only in his tiny little circle and refused any relationship from others like Orion, he could've addressed that crippling emotional agony that comes with passing of a loved one. time won't heal you well without medicine

Boreas is the first one Euros tells about his second Rot

another tragedy he won't be able to cope with. Euros' last broadcast is singing into the frequencies, for anyone still alive and capable to listen to him for the last time. B and some more others come together and answer his calls, sing to him until his power fails and Euros goes dark

if he didn't love the boy, the man who doesn't like to sing much wouldn't come to mourn with a ballad at the funeral

his anger at Notos' blindness is inspired by my parents whenever my disability becomes the topic of a conversation. they are so so angry i've been hurt this way. nobody should have to be disabled, we are supposed to be okay. so Boreas loves Notos unbelievably much and his anger at the injustice done to her is an evidence of it. he doesn't get to call it before it collapses like with Euros because the communications are down and something tells him that it wouldn't really want to see him in its final moments upright either way. after Zephyr's collapse he became even more prickly including to his loved ones since he can't deal with it and that ended with Notos replying in kind. it's his fault that the two drifted away, but he still loves that kid

i dunno where i've seen it but in some film i think there was a scene of an addict dad and his kid, POV the kid. the dad shouted and cursed and blamed the kid for his state and for his grief, probably shattered an alcohol bottle too, then he realized what he just did while the kid cowered in the corner. he was *horrified*. he came to the kid and hugged them softly, crying and apologizing, begging for forgiveness. the child was just scared, wide eyed in confusion. that's what Boreas and Notos' relationship ends up carrying in spirit nearing the end of them all

they still love each other, but the other is doing such horrible dangerous decisions and acting even worse that it's impossible to stand and it hurts So damn much to space away from it. to shoot a fiery glare towards him when on the good days he can be the epitome of safety. so it's complicated but the love Is there, making it hurt that much more

Haboob is the only one who sorts of falls into that "its just my responsibility to take care of you" field. i kind of think of Boreas like a lion. he will stay and protect his kids, play with them, but offspring of others will be killed (ofc he doesn't go That far with fellow Iterators). after Notos, the Anemoi were supposed to be a finished group. that's it. there's only four gods to be named after. so Haboob to him is like a kid he was forced to adopt, by people he absolutely loathes. while Euros learned how to love her, Boreas just learned how to take on the responsibility. being horrible to her was easier than anyone else, but surprisingly to him it still stung when Haboob had enough and essentially slammed the door in his face by leaving the Anemoi chat and blocking his frequency. didn't help that Notos followed soon after too, cuz at this point it loved Haboob more than whatever was Boreas becoming

he took note of the sting n at some point figured out that he did actually love the kid. spent too long with her chatting with Euros and Notos in the back of his mind to not accept her into the family properly. in the off string post-MA au them addressing their relationship is one of the more important plot points

#spot says stuff #rw #oc tag #ask to tag #oc: boreas' blessing #ultimately Orion gets a reaction out of him too. though he doesnt wanna have much to do with him outside of work its hard to completely-#-deny all the time theyve actually spent together. thousands and thousands of years together. working through things no matter how shitty-#-the Ancients were. theyve gone through a War together and Orion was almost Lost in that #Ori is kinda pissy with Boreas over being used like some secretary- unfairly overworked he basically does everything that Boreas or Zeph-#-are meant to do but Zeph is understandable. so thats another relationship B unknowingly has and is treating horrible as a result #boreas is not a good man ill say it again gjksdljlm But it is possible to worm under his plating -looks at Haboob n Sparru-#love me some super complicated mindboggling characters. hes a fucking Individual

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