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zoethebitch · 7 months

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finished the sopranos. really glad I rewatched this I definitely did not understand it 15 years ago. I mean I understood I was not supposed to sympathize with Tony even tho I wanted to I got that part of it but there's a lot that went over my head.

it is a lot more supernatural than I remembered and there are actually ghosts and angels and prophecies hidden in dreams and messages in the wind throughout. i had forgetten about that. maybe a lot of people have it feels like this series and David Chase are a lot more well known for realism. but the real and the surreal play together beautifully through the whole thing. it's never clear if these are meant to be real entities or if they're imaginary but there's a lot in this show that's ambiguous.

none of the characters really grow or change at all I think the sopranos is unique in that. there's one exception, Meadows friend Hunter (played by David Chase's daughter) who shows up frequently in early seasons but then we don't see her for years until the finale. it's clear why bc when we last saw her she was Meadows fuck up friend with bulimia who was in and out of the hospital, always abusing various substances, constantly partying and getting into trouble. in the finale she's got her shit together and is in her second year of med school. we haven't seen her bc she changed and moved on while everyone else in the show has remained stagnant.

you hope they will change. you hope Carmella will actually leave Tony for real you hope Christopher will overcome his addiction and make a real commitment to something in his life you hope Tony will actually seek self improvement thru his therapy and change his life so he doesn't have to subconsciously harbor these deep feelings of shame and guilt and regret around his actions that are causing his depression and anxiety. but by the end it's revealed that he's been using therapy to become a better criminal and to help bury these things further down and steer himself further away from developing empathy toward others this entire time. Carmella starts out trying to only live on Tony's legitimate income and reject his blood money and by the end she's stealing bundles of cash from his stash and accepting a 600k dowry from him in exchange for getting back together with him instead of divorcing him.

the controversial cut to black ending is so much fun in the context of the rest of that final season I don't think it's really about whether Tony lives or dies. like he probably dies but I think that was Chase's way of putting him in Schrodinger's box and keeping him simultaneously alive and dead. both possibilities are true as long as we can't observe it. if we go back to the beginning of season 6 when Tony is in the hospital recovering from his gunshot wound this actually gets brought up. one of the patients he's with was a physicist who talks to Tony about Schrodinger and Heisenberg. they discuss this at length while watching a boxing match, about how reality is affected by our perception of it. just like two episodes before the finale Tony and his therapist are also discussing alternate universes which is also a concept deeply tied to probability waves and uncertainty principle. a cat also shows up in the finale that Tony decides to keep as a bodega cat for the butcher shop and I don't think that's a coincidence.

anyways. really great show but god it got very very dark toward the end and I need some lighter material before I dig in to The Many Saints of Newark so I'm gonna watch Nicky Deuce.

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void-galaxy-shenanigans · 2 years

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We Don’t Talk About Bruno theories

So I can’t get it out of my head & ended up hyperfixating on Bruno (he VERY quickly became a comfort character)....& I have a few theories about each of the “prophecies” Bruno was damned for based on visuals & hints elsewhere in the film.

So this isn’t even a theory but in All Of You near the end, Bruno apologises to Pepa about her wedding by saying “I’m sorry about your wedding, that wasn’t even a prophecy, I could just see you sweating, and I wanted you to know your bro loves you so....let it out, let it rain let it snow, let it go!” ...He was telling her to go ahead & feel/express her true emotions, which she was trying to hide because Abuela would say it isn’t “perfect”. (Abuela was obsessed with what she deemed safe, & that usually meant control over all her kids & pressure to be perfect & appear always happy, so of course a rainy wedding (though more real because Pepa would rain (cry) when she’s happy) would differ from that image.)

& then the other accusations...

7 foot frame: Camilo was very young when Bruno left & it’s likely the only thing he knows about him is from the family tree & the mural in town, where he looks bigger, & to a little kid scarier, so Camilo remembers him differently.

“my fish would die”: This lady had her goldfish in an empty bowl with just water. There are 2 issues with this: no water filter (she would have to dump the water out by hand & refill it regularly, & Bruno might’ve heard her refuse to do that or told her she’d need to & she didn’t), & no stimulation (as in plants & rocks to play around in, & also friends) & a very small tank (which can kill a fish). She may have also been overfeeding her fish, or unknowingly feeding it something poisonous/toxic to fish, & when Bruno said she was gonna kill the fish she didn’t stop & blamed it on him rather than accepting she could’ve done better. Again, keen observation skills. It wasn’t even a prophecy.

“I'd grow a gut”: This guy might’ve eaten unhealthy amounts or types of food, &/or he was just getting older where it’s very natural to gain weight because hunter-gatherer evolution.

“I'd lose all my hair”: This guy is visibly old. He probably had a receding hairline already & Bruno was observant enough to notice it.

“He told me the life of my dreams would be promised & someday be mine”: This....actually comes true. He might have meant Mirabel was going to make this reality safe for her to pursue (by standing up to Abuela), & could be based on the vision he had about Mirabel.

“He told me my powers would grow like grapes that thrive on the vine”: Isabela does actually grow seemingly more powerful when she finds out she can actually create more than just flowers. Her plants are bigger & stronger than ever, because it’s not coming from fear of Abuela but instead her own glee & freedom. But again this may have been him observing that Abuela was suppressing Isabela’s powers to only use the parts that were acceptable & seemed perfect/beautiful, & realizing someday she would break out of that mold.

“He told me the man of my dreams would be just out of reach, betrothed to another”: If I understood the timeline correctly, Isabela & Dolores were both around dating age when he said this. Which means he may have overheard Abuela talking about how she planned to pair up Mariano with Isabela, & when he realized who Dolores was crushing on was the same person he tried to warn her. (He’s shown to be rather agile & able to sneak around unnoticed by Abuela so it’s possible he snuck up & heard something she said.)

The vision of Mirabel & the house: If you read the tablet left to right like a book, it reads as ‘stage one: Mirabel breaks the house’ & then ‘step two: Mirabel fixes/rebuilds the house’...which is exactly how it goes down. She breaks the house by standing up to Abuela, then repairs the house by making Abuela realize she had stopped loving her familia for themselves & needed to see past their powers & actually see the people as themselves first.

It’s made clear when Bruno does the ritual for Maribel that he can’t just pluck prophecies out of thin air. He needs open space, a ritual circle, lots of sand, & fire to even begin, & his tower was a LOT of stairs that would be ridiculous to climb for something as silly & temporary as a receding hairline. It clearly takes him a lot of effort & thought & focus to see the future...there would be no point wasting his effort. But he was so observant & vocal about what he noticed, & none of his siblings needed rituals to use their powers, & it’s likely none of the villagers (maybe even none of his familia) actually saw him use his abilities so they wouldn’t be able to tell that he isn’t actually using his powers...so people just assumed he was able to do prophecies easily & that his observations doomed them even when those observations were of things they might have control to change.

I just. I have a lot of feelings for this guy. I adore Bruno. I want an uncle/father like him. He gets scapegoated & vilified in that song far too harshly.

Also if you, like me, adore Bruno & have feelings about that song....here’s a couple videos you might like.

This one is a rewrite by a fan theorizing why Bruno saw what he did & defending him

& this one is a reprise from Bruno’s perspective if you want more feelings &/or to cry

~Nico

#encanto #bruno madrigal #encanto bruno

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parttimeghost · 2 years

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Hiya Taylor, name's Midnight and nice to meet you!! Please, tell me more about both of your WIPs!

Hi Midnight, it's so nice to meet you! <3

I know you're probably referring to the two WIPs I have in my pinned post so I'll talk about those first. But I've also got a couple of other WIPs that I'm currently working on/thinking about and I just haven't gotten around to updating my pinned post so I'll chuck a little bit about them on the end as well for a bit of fun!

WIP AN ODE TO THE DESTINED (Arthurian WIP)

An Ode to the Destined is my main WIP at the moment; I just started rewrites for the second draft which I'm super excited about! It's an Arthurian-inspired fantasy told from the perspective of Morgan of Avalon, the twin sister of Prince Arthur of Camelot. The story follows Morgan as she attempts to stop King Uther's purge and prevent the veil between the worlds from unravelling, whilst also dealing with the prophecies of Taliesin (who believes she is destined to fall to darkness) and her own seer dreams, the lines between reality and vision blurring as the events of her visions draw nearer.

The magic system of AOTTD has to be one of my favourite things that I've ever come up with! The basic concept is that reality is set out like a weaver's loom, right? The warp is everything that provides the structure to reality, things that cannot be changed (like the rising of the sun, the phases of the moon, and the seasons of the year). Whilst the weft is everything else, everything human. It helps to explain the way Seer visions work in AOTTD, where the future is possibilities (the different ways in which you can weave), whilst the past cannot be changed (as it is already woven).

I'm definitely going to be posting about this story over the next couple of months: here's an excerpt from the opening that I posted for HU7U!

WIP THE SUBTLE ART OF COUNTING CROWS (Superhero WIP)

This is probably the WIP that I've been working on for the longest. I started writing about these characters in 2020 for my HSC English Extension Two major work (basically I elected to take a course for my final year that meant that I got to submit a major work, which in my case was a short story) (they didn't like it very much lol).

It follows the lives of Bran Wren, Clancy Culpa, and Melissa Kennedy (though it's mostly told from Bran's point of view) as they navigate life as newly initiated superhero-vigilantes in the city of Wrenwood.

It's very much a slice-of-life superhero story; it's told in a non-linear fashion where each chapter of the collection is based on that counting crows nursery rhyme (One for Sorrow, One for Mirth, etc.). And I'm thinking about adding a couple of 'bonus stories' in the second draft (shorter stories based on alternate versions of the nursery rhyme, maybe told from Clancy and Melissa's point of view?). It's just really fun to write and the characters are so dear to me. Here's an excerpt from one of my favourite chapters so far.

I'm currently working on the second (?) draft so I'll post some more excerpts as I get into that (and when I finally stop procrastinating).

WIP VIGNETTES OF A LIFE I NEVER LIVED VOL. ONE (Short Story Collection)

I haven't actually posted a lot about this WIP so far so I'll give a brief overview. Vignettes of a Life I Never Lived Vol. One is a collection of short stories I wrote in early 2021/22 about being unsatisfied with the direction my life was heading but being uncertain about where exactly I wanted it to go. It's a work in progress and I'm adding little vignettes every so often when I think about different lives I could've led (some of them are realistic, others less so). I'm currently writing the story in a kind of weird possible-future-tense (I'm not sure how to explain it) but it makes for a really interesting structure and reading experience.

It's more of a love letter to all the people I could have been than anything else; a way to mourn them and say goodbye. I might have to finally get around to writing up a WIP intro for this soon...

WIP DON'T PAY THE FERRYMAN (Afterlife WIP)

Don't Pay the Ferryman is my most recent WIP. I started it for Camp NaNoWriMo back in July, but uni kicked my ass that month, so I only managed to write a little bit. It's about Thea, an Afterlife guide, who ferries unmarked souls (those without religious belief) through the afterlife and is looking for a way to escape, to find her own peace in an afterlife (any afterlife really). The only way for a Ferryman to retire, and that is to get an unmarked soul to take their place by paying them before the journey is over (based on that Chris de Burgh song of the same name). So when Thea receives her first charge, she believes herself willing to do anything to reach retirement. That's when she meets Adriana. So it's a road trip romance novel but with a fantasy (and philosophy) bent.

Thank you for the ask! Have a lovely day (and lmk if you want to know anything more about any WIP in particular)! <3

#wip: an ode to the destined #wip: the subtle art of counting crows #wip: don't pay the ferryman #wip: vignettes of a life i never lived vol. one #writing asks #writeblr #u: midnights-melodiverse

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em-gray · 2 years

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i don’t have much to say about we don’t talk about bruno besides that it absolutely slaps - only that the rest of the film puts isabela’s part in a whole new light. the first time you hear it, you’re kind of along with mirabel, hearing that, when everyone else got bad prophecies, she literally got the life of her dreams predicted, which adds further to her “annoyingly perfect”-ness. but then toward the end of the song, she ends up singing “and i’m fine, i’m fine” looking anything but fine. and then you learn she isn’t happy at all! i’m guessing, when she heard the life of her dreams would be promised and someday be hers, and then she was set up with mariano - she probably thought that was what bruno meant. not the life she wanted to, but a life “perfect” for her, a life she should want, that she was trying to convince herself she wanted. so hearing this prophecy that, on a first view, sounds so good and perfect, in reality probably to isabela felt more like a curse than a blessing

#encanto #disney #encanto meta #isabela madrigal #we don't talk about bruno #i just have some Thoughts #but also!!! in reality the prophecy probably meant the life of her dreams as in the one she'd actually get after breaking free #and that her power would grow could very well mean the events of what else can i do!!!#good for her good for her

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theparanormalperiodical · 3 years

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The REAL Story Behind The Crooked Man And The 7 Other Fairy Tales & Nursery Rhymes With *Even More* Disturbing Backstories

It was 4 years ago that we first met the Crooked Man.

With a *sickening* reveal via rottweiler fit for the latest season of Rupaul’s Drag Race, the suited gentleman staggered his way from The Conjuring 2 (2016) into our nightmares.

But his ashy undertones, gnashing teeth, and general aura of “I’m a demon, or something, which means I have no real motive apart from wanting to kill you” isn’t the only thing that fits the film far too well.

The Conjuring universe is the definition of ‘based on a true story’. And the Crooked Man fits the brief.

In the opening scenes of the film we see lovable and bulliable Billy stutter through a nursery rhyme:

There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile, He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile; He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, And they all liv'd together in a little crooked house.

Accompanied by a totally-cursed-i-mean-just-look-at-it zoetrope (it’s a bit like a mini projector that shows you a moving cartoon), Billy introduces us to one of the handful of extra entities terrorising London’s most haunted house. You can discover more about the true story of 284 Green Street which inspired The Conjuring 2 here.

But Billy also introduces us to a real nursery rhyme inherent in British culture - and British history.

Yes, the nursery rhyme, like many, is based on dark and twisted reality softened for a bedtime story. And amongst this history was a real person. Unfortunately, the Crooked Man is not the only fairy tale monster or nursery rhyme entity that will be haunting your dreams.

Are y’all tucked in?

The Crooked Man

The nursery rhyme was first told sometime in the 17th century during the reign of King Charles I. But the Crooked Man was not the Stuart King - it was allegedly inspired by Scottish general Sir Alexander Leslie and the covenant he signed.

The covenant secured religious and political freedom for Scotland despite prevailing animosity between the English and the Scottish.

The crooked stile is the awkward alliance between the two parliaments and the crooked house refers to the collective union the Scottish and English lived together in. But the ‘crooked’ part works on another level, too.

The great recoinage of late 17th century meant sixpences - which feature in the rhyme - were made of very thin silver and thus easy to bend.

An alternative origins story links it back to Lavenham, a village in Suffolk (England). The half-timbered houses leaned at off angles as if supporting each other, creating a crooked aesthetic that matches the nursery rhyme.

The Pied Piper Of Hamelin

I distinctly remember hearing the story of the Pied Piper when I was about 7 years old. I was there, sat crossed-legged on the wooden floor in assembly and listening to the headteacher tell us the tale of the musical maverick with an overhead projector.

I remember it being far more nostalgic and not so traumatising.

The story goes that sometime in the 13th century a peculiar man dressed in brightly-coloured clothes (pied clothing) was hired by the town to rid them of the rats with his pipe-playing abilities. Hamelin had been suffering from an infestation that would threaten the locals with the plague. The piper was to play his pipe, entice the rats with his magical music, and lead them to a river where they would promptly drown.

He was hired and he did the job - but they didn’t pay up.

The piper couldn’t exactly refund his services. Instead, he sought vengeance, luring away the children of the town with his magical pipe. He waited until Saint John and Paul’s day where the adults would be in the church, dressed in green like a hunter, and played his pipe. The children of the village swarmed to him, all 130 of them, following him out of the town and into a cave. Three were unable to follow due to being blind and deaf and thus told the villagers what had happened.

The real story:

Some versions of the story claimed he made them walk into a river, others claim he returned them after payment. But what we do know for sure is that there is a street in Hamelin called Bungelosenstrasse. On this street - ‘the street without drums’ according to translation - the children were seen last. No music and no dancing is allowed on this road.

Bluebeard

We open on a typical Medieval scene: a powerful and wealthy man is looking for a young wife to replace the last one who mysteriously went missing. Bluebeard’s been through quite a few women, actually, but it’s his latest bae that stars in this story. Bluebeard marries his neighbour’s daughter and goes on a business trip.

He tells her he can stay alone in their house but she cannot open a certain door.

Of course, she opens the door and finds the corpses of his ex-wives. Her and her sisters band together to kill Bluebeard, showering themselves with a wealthy inheritance.

The real story:

This tragic tale of murder and mystery is unfortunately all too true.

There are many alleged origins of the folktale. Let’s start with the Medieval ruler of Brittany, Conomor the Cursed: his new wife agreed to marry him to prevent him from invading her father’s lands but accidentally walked in on a room full of his dead, old wives. She was visited by their ghosts who warn him if she falls pregnant, he will kill her, preventing a prophecy that claims he will be killed by his own son.

She gets knocked up, gives birth, and then she gets her block knocked off.

An alternative inspiration could be a similarly brutal figure: Gilles de Rais (15th century). He was accused of murdering approximately 140 children who suddenly went missing in the Nantes countryside. He was condemned to death and executed in 1440.

Snow White

It’s one of the most popular fairytales of all time.

The story goes that a queen gives birth to a baby girl but dies in childbirth. The king’s new wife is wicked and vain, asking her magic mirror ‘who is the fairest one of all?’ on a daily basis. When the child turns seven, the mirror changes its answer from the queen to the child, Snow White (yeah, that’s weird). The queen hires a huntsman to kill Snow White, but she begs for mercy and says she will live in the woods and he can pretend he killed her.

She finds shelter in a cottage belonging to seven dwarfs who agree to let her stay as a maid until the evil queen asks the mirror her favourite question. It claims Snow White is still alive and the fairest of them all. She goes through several methods of attempting to kill Snow until she falls into a deep coma. The dwarfs host a funeral, a prince comes along, and he, uhhh, kisses what he assumed to be a corpse and she is awakened.

They then get hitched but don’t invite the queen to the wedding. The queen asks the mirror yet again the identity of the fairest, assuming Snow is well and truly deceased but the mirror breaks the bad news to her again. The queen tries to kill her once more but Snow’s hubby forces her to wear red-hot iron slippers and dance in them until she dies.

There’s a lot going on here.

But rather than unpacking everything that's wrong with all of this *gestures to everything*, let’s just get to the dark reality beneath it all.

The real story:

The inspiration is generally deemed to be Margaretha von Walbeck, a young woman who had a terrible relationship with her stepmother. She was forced to move to Brussels and fell in love with Phillip II of Spain, a romance not popular with her parents.

Suddenly, however, Margaretha died. Rumour has it she was poisoned.

Another detail of her life also links her to Snow White: her father’s copper mines were often filled with child labourers whose growth was stunted by working in them, mirroring the ‘dwarves’ in the story.

But Margaretha is not the only contender: Maria Sophia Margaretha Catharina Freifräulein von Erthal *inhale* also hated her stepmother. This - and the fact that her stepmother was given a mirror as a gift by her husband - also ties her to Snow White.

Hansel And Gretel

It’s possibly the most simple fairy tale up for discussion: a brother and sister are sent out to the woods by their father. The mother asked for him to send them away so they can survive a famine. But Hansel uses stones to trace their steps back home. One day, however, he uses crumbs. They get eaten by the local wildlife, so the kids get lost.

They then discover a witch's house, a gingerbread cottage. She lures ‘em in, fattens up Hansel, and prepares to feast on his flesh. The kids plot against her, throw her in the oven, and steal her stuff before heading back to live with their father.

Okay, so maybe this one isn’t based on a true story. It’s based on true stories. Yep - plural.

The real story:

Child abandonment and infanticide was pretty common during plagues, famines, and all other circumstances of poverty. In fact, this particular tale is believed to come from the Great Famine which stretched across Europe from 1315 to 1317. Child abandonment surged during this time.

Rapunzel

Turns out Disney lopped off a lot of Rapunzel’s real story to make it a family friendly movie. Yep, this is a weird one.

A pregnant woman begins to crave a kind of salad leaf (Campanula rapunculus, also called rapunzel) in the garden of the house next door. He goes out to nick it but is caught by the homeowner - a witch. She says he can take the rapunzel, but in return he must give her the child once it is born.

The witch raises Rapunzel as her own but locks her away in a tower when she is 12 to protect her from the outside world.

A prince eventually rocks up and decides to climb her immensely long hair. Unknown, probably PG-13 and probably not consensual acts happen. Still, given it's the medieval era they agree to get hitched after escaping.

The witch discovers her plan, cuts off her hair, exiles Rapunzel, and uses the locks as bait for the prince before throwing him to the briar roses below where he is promptly blinded. Rapunzel gives birth to twins and the prince finds her, identifying her only by her voice. Her tears restore his voice.

The real story:

Being kidnapped or being kept hidden away from the rest of the world is pretty common, well, all of the time. But Saint Barabara, a Greek saint, was the main inspiration for the tale.

She was locked away in a tower in Turkey in the third century by her father in an attempt to protect her Christianity. But her Pagan father’s efforts did not succeed and she discovered the ways of Jesus. She escaped but she was eventually caught by her father who then tortured and beheaded her.

Religious intolerance, y’all.

Beauty And The Beast

Time for another Disney classic with a heavily edited plotline.

The father of a family seeks shelter in a grand palace during a storm. In the morning before he leaves he takes a rose from the garden but is caught by a beast who threatens to kill him for nicking a flower. But the beast agrees not to kill him if his daughter takes his place instead.

The daughter moves to the palace but asks to go see her family for a week. She is then convinced by her sisters to stay at home. A magic mirror then reveals the beast is dying because she isn’t with him. She returns to him and her love breaks the curse that makes him appear so monstrous.

The real story:

Petrus Gonsalvus (1637-1618) was born with hypertrichosis. This meant he had a thick layer of hair all over his body - his physical difference didn’t go down very well. He was kept as a ‘wild man’ in a cage and fed raw meat.

When he was 10 years old he was gifted to the king of france. But he wasn’t kept as a ‘beast’. He was educated like a nobleman and was taught to read, write, and speak three different languages. He was then married off to the daughter of a court servant.

He was married to her for over 40 years and they had seven children together.

(Aww.)

Three Blind Mice

Three blind mice, three blind mice, See how they run, see how they run, They all ran after the farmer’s wife, Who cut off their tails with a carving knife, Did you ever see such a thing in your life, As three blind mice?

The real story:

It's one of those nursery rhymes you grow up with - and 17 years later you realise how traumatic it actually is.

This nursery rhyme can be traced back to the reign of Bloody Mary (16th century) who had a tricky relationship with Protestants. And by that I mean she burnt them alive, hence the nickname.

The three blind mice represented three Protestant bishops who may have been blinded before their execution or spiritually blind for following Catholicism. Another reference to Queen Mary was her as a farmer’s wife.

Her husband, Philip of Spain, owned several estates and thus was technically a farmer.

Welp, there goes your childhood.

If you liked this post go on and like and reblog. Go on, share your love for my amazing talents with the world!

And if you want to read an article about the paranormal every weekend then you best be hitting follow!

See you next week, kiddos. Sleep tight.

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mindmeltonabun-blog · 4 years

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Tale of The Nine Tailed: Analysis and Theories

First and foremost, I would like to give my sincerest praise to the cast and crew of Tale of The Nine Tailed ! It is simply a wonderful and very thought provoking show! I strongly recommend it to everyone!

Now, I’m going to forewarn you all that this post will be very LONG, but hey you might learn a thing or two and be able to draw your own theories and/or conclusions after reading this post! I had previously posted some of these connections/theories on my Twitter, but I figure hey why not post them on Tumblr too !

What Is An Imugi/Imoogi? What Is It’s Goal?

In Korean folklore, Imoogis are lesser dragons that look like big snakes or kind of like a basilisk from Harry Potter.

One of an Imugi/Imoogi’s main goal is obtain a “Yeouiju” or a celestial orb which allows it to become full fledged celestial dragons which can rule the skies. In the context of TOTNT, there is such a type of “Yeouiju” in the form of Lee Yeon’s fox bead. Therefore, I believe that the ultimate goal of the Imugi/Imoogi is get Lee Yeon’s fox bead.

Side note, I kind of think that the Imoogi not only wants to rule the skies, but the ground too. I wouldn't be surprised if he sought to do so by raising an army of zombies (maybe thats who Lee Yeon was seen fighting in the intro credits) !

Why be content with just ruling the skies when you can rule the entire world? Additionally, he could have further ambitions to not only rule the world, but to also rule all realms like the heavens and the Underworld.

The Imoogi is very strategic into getting what he wants. By strategic I mean that he likes to use people as leverage or use their own weaknesses against them.

Therefore, I believe what happened originally during Ah Eum’s time is that the Imoogi had possessed her body in order to get Lee Yoon to hand over his fox bead. The Imoogi knew how much Lee Yoon had loved Ah Eum and would be willing to do anything for her.

However like Voldemort, the Imoogi did not anticipate the power of love and sacrifice. Ah Eum had temporarily gained control of her body long enough to do either two things: ask Lee Yeon to kill her or run into Lee Yeon’s sword thereby killing herself. In either cases, she fulfilled her promise to Lee Yoon which was that she would always protect him.

Now jumping back to the present time, we know that original target of the Imoogi’s plan was Ji Ah. Why? Because his lame self wanted to do what he did in the past and use her again to get Lee Yeon to hand over the fox bead. However, this time around, Ji Ah had Lee Yeon’s fox bead inside of her which offered protection from full possession by the Imoogi. So then the Imoogi’s minion (tv station president) took the next best thing which was Ji Ah’s parents to be used as leverage at a later time so that Ji Ah would hand over the fox bead.

However, things have now changed because Ji A gave away the fox bead to the fortune teller to save Lee Yeon. Now I have mixed feelings about this situation. On one side, I find it romantic that she’s willing to give up anything to save Lee Yeon. On the other side of it, I’m like girl why are you so stupid?! Lee Yeon literally gave up his mountain title in order to give Ah Eum/Ji Ah that fox bead. It’s almost like Lee Yeon’s actions were met in vain. Plus, when Ji Ah said she doesn’t believe in destiny or that sort of stuff, it also got me riled up because it was a contradiction to the whole premise of her character in the first place. From the get go, the writer wrote that Ji Ah believes in the supernatural and mystical. So then why wouldn't she believe in fate and destiny?

Anyways back to more analysis. Without the protective effects of the fox bead, Ji Ah can once again be possessed by the Imoogi.

What the fox bead had done for Ji Ah was that it protected Ji Ah from the effects of the Imoogi piece aka horcrux that was inside of her. The notion that the bead had offered protective effects can be seen when Lee Yeon first gave it to her where a protective shield was erected and this was again seen in ep4 when Ji Ah cried. Also, it was confirmed when Sato said how Lee Yeon’s fox bead was meant to protect all beings, but instead Lee Yeon chose to use it to protect only one person.

The Fortune Teller’s Message

Something of particular interest is what the fortune teller told Ji Ah about the bead. He told her that even without the fox bead or moon, her life is still “blessed”. I think what the fortune teller meant by this is that even without the protective effects of the bead, her life is still “blessed” because she will always have Lee Yeon by her side to protect her.

What I think will happen next is that Lee Yeon will go back to the fortune teller to try and get his bead back. Meaning Ji Ah will probably confess to Lee Yeon later on just what exactly she gave up in order to get him back. And again the fortune teller will ask for something precious to Lee Yeon. There are a few things that are precious to Lee Yeon such as Ji Ah, Lee Rang, and Lee Yeon’s immortality. Now we know that Lee Yeon would never give up Ji Ah, so then this would bring about other two things into play: Lee Rang and Lee Yeon’s immortality. I think its more of a poetic justice if Lee Yeon trades Lee Rang in. However, I could also see Lee Yeon trading in his immortality since his dream has always been to become human. Who knows though!

Only One Will Live: Imoogi Vs Ji Ah and Lee Yeon vs Ji Ah

In Harry Potter, there was a prophecy that “for neither can live, while the other survives”. This same message is conveyed when it comes to the Imoogi & Ji Ah and Lee Yeon & Ji Ah.

We saw what had happened the first go around when the Imoogi had possessed Ah Eum. In the end, Ah Eum chose to sacrificed herself so that both the Imoogi and the piece of him inside of her would die. Thereby, she prevented the Imoogi from using her to get Lee Yeon’s fox bead. Now presently, the same situation is basically happening again. However, if Harry Potter managed to kill the piece of Voldemort in him and still survive then Ji Ah can essentially do the same. So, how you might ask? I think the solution greatly lies in getting the fox bead back in her. If Ji Ah can temporarily die in order to get rid of the Imoogi piece inside of her, then she can be revived by the protective qualities of the fox bead.

Even if Ji Ah survives against the Imoogi, it might be at the cost of losing Lee Yeon. The fortune teller even told our couple this, “If you two keep hanging out, one of you will die”. This same message is again heard in ep 7 preview when Taluipa’s husband tells Lee Yeon, “You or the girl. One must die in the end.” So can there be a situation where the Imoogi is dead and both Ji Ah and Lee Yeon are alive? Yes and it comes in the form of the Lee Rang factor.

The Lee Rang Factor

We all know that our little puppy, Lee Rang, may put up the facade that he hates his brother, but in reality, Lee Rang loves his brother a lot.

There was a clue dropped in ep.4 that hints in the end Lee Rang will be the one that saves both Lee Yeon and Ji Ah.

The hint was in Taluipa’s hand, the movie “A Better Tomorrow”. Briefly, the movie is about two brothers, Ho and Kit, who love each other a lot. However over the years, they began to develop great animosity and resentment towards each other mainly due to their differences in beliefs and professions. Ho was a criminal while Kit was an upstanding police officer. Eventually, Ho does see the error of his ways and seeks to atone for them. In the end, the two brother reconcile and Ho decides to join his brother Kit on a path of righteousness. Similar to Ho, I think Lee Rang will do the same. Lee Rang will atone for his mistakes and thus sacrifice himself to save Lee Yeon and Ji Ah.

What is Ji Ah?

Seems like everyone these days has been wondering what exactly Ji Ah is. Most people seem to think that she is part Imoogi. However, there has been a bunch of clues in the episodes that answers this question.

I believe Ah Eum/Ji Ah is Princess Bari, the first shaman goddess from Korean mythology.

Princess Bari was nicknamed the “Abandoned Princess” because she was the last and 7th daughter of a King who had no sons. Due to her gender, she did not receive any attention from her parents and was thus abandoned.

Eventually, her parents’ lives became endangered and in order to save them she had to travel to the Underworld to get the elixir of life. Such a tedious journey showed her deep commitment to the virtue of “filial piety” or one’s love and respect for one’s parents. She became a role model for many women during this time because she was willing to sacrifice herself for the very parents who had abandoned her.

As a reward for her strong adherence to filial piety, the Gods made her the first shaman goddess who’s job was to help and guide spirits.

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bastardsunlight · 3 years

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My buddy over at @sxvethelastdance is doing some deep dive shit on the subject of Liu Kang’s faith in all his iterations—95, games, 2021—so I decided “hey why don’t I do that too?” because I also desire to be one of The Cool Kids™. This is in no way meant to be taken as gospel truth or whatever. It’s mostly for me own records, headcanons-wise, and just kind of a character-building exercise since Lao has become one of my more active/sought-after muses of late. I’ll hide it under a cut because it’s liable to get long

Like my S C H L O N G [cue pornbot invasion]

PS THIS IS GOING TO BE ABOUT MORE THAN JUST HIS FAITH BECAUSE A LOT OF THAT WILL COME FROM UPBRINGING/FAMILY AND WILL ALSO FOCUS ON HIS PERSONALITY AND THE INS/OUTS OF IT

For our purposes (and like, in reality because I DO respect authorial intent to some extent), Shaolin Monks isn’t canon, like at all. Someone had a fever dream and Liu Kang/Kung Lao were bimbos for a few hours. Okay they’re still kind of like that, god bless ‘em, but you get the idea. AIGHT now that’s out the way, let’s get this cue ball rolling.

Okay for starters, games Lao because well he’s only ever appeared in the games (and we don’t usually talk about Legacy Because OOF middle-aged Liu Kang with a hot topic sweater and anger issues—Liu Kangst. You’re welcome [plays a high G on the nearest piano]).

Kung Lao comes from a long, distinguished family who has always contributed to the order of light—they’re founding members, all that stuff. They did not build the academy itself, but the Order started with the Great Kung Lao. OUR Kung Lao is the fulfillment of a prophecy, some vague old thing that told of an ancestor who would carry the “spirit of the Great Kung Lao”. They figure reincarnation, which is a reasonable assumption. If that’s true or not, only Fire God Liu Kang and Lord Raiden know, because they’re the only ones to have met him in person. Whatever the case, Kung Lao is born with the ability to call spirits and channel their energy, their “pressure” to do a variety of things, including teleport, an ability that thankfully did not come until later—can you imagine a teleporting toddler? Good god.

The entire Kung line is blessed with some spiritual power, here and there. Kung Lao is off the charts. His mother, a short time before his birth, has a dream where the GKL came to her and said “this is the one”. He is reaching out to his ancestor from the Realm of the Honored Dead, knowing full well that the once-a-generation tournament is not far off and feeling the pull to Lao like some kind of magnet or doorway. Kung Lao is the strongest spirit-channeler the Kung family has ever seen. His parents therefore name him Lao and with the name comes a great and terrible burden.

He is, naturally, chosen as the generational tithe to the Wu-Shi academy and, naturally, the Order of Light. This is a case of being raised in the faith, knowing little else, but being sharp enough to question some things. Obviously, as a kid, he doesn’t question—he just learns and obeys, trains under various masters, etc. Sometime during his younger years, an orphan shows up at the temple and, being a charitable organization, the elders of the temple take him in and name the boy Liu Kang. Liu and Lao become fast friends and the elders are, of course, pleased as punch to see the Kung’s legacy being a good influence on someone like Liu Kang who, unbeknownst to anyone but them (and Raiden), is the blood of Onaga and in possession of a terrible power himself. It does not occur to them that Lao will not be chosen by the god of thunder to be Earthrealm’s champion. Everyone at the academy trains for this purpose, but in THIS generation, no one even questions that it will be Lao.

Kung Lao is extremely gifted, rarely has to study, hardly tries on all exams and new techniques and masters the strange and deadly weapon that is his signature with relatively few injuries. Combining that with his abilities to move spiritual force and teleport and he is a shoe-in. His faith in the Elder Gods is more of a background hum, at this point and, though he has met Lord Raiden, his faith there, too, is hardly a thought. It’s just part of his life. As anyone who grows up in a faith could tell you, the routines become like breathing.

Liu Kang and Kung Lao grow side-by-side as best friends, confidants, troublemakers (though Lao is absolutely the one cutting class), and, as they grow older and into themselves, lovers.

The first time Kung Lao’s faith comes to the forefront and really shakes is when Lord Raiden choses Liu Kang to be his champion for Mortal Kombat. There is the initial shock, of course, and then there is fear. Mortal Kombat has killed very Earthrealm champion, without exception, since the Great Kung Lao’s second attempt. The legends of Prince Goro are written in the forbidden texts of the academy’s library and naturally, the shaolin rowdy boys have broken in and read them all. Kung Lao meditates for hours, wondering what he did wrong. He is never, at any point, resentful toward Liu Kang himself, who has always been an unfailingly loyal friend, a humble monk, an excellent student, and has, with hard work and perseverance, excelled in HIS classes as well.

The more he considers it, the more his faith in the Elder Gods is shaken—if it was ever terribly solid in the first place. More than that, he begins to mistrust Raiden. Kung Lao determines that, due to the hopelessness of the situation, the likelihood of Liu Kang’s return is almost zero. He has all the faith in the world in how strong Liu Kang is, of course, but those odds are not good. He begins to deeply resent the idea that Liu was chosen as a lamb for slaughter based on factors other than likelihood to win. This is also when the insecurity starts to REALLY set in.

Kung Lao doesn’t realize that Liu Kang views him as equal or superior, seeing how he has never had to study or work at ANYTHING to just nail whatever it is, every time. Kung Lao is one of those young adults who was a child prodigy and is experiencing some SERIOUS burnout in his early twenties. It isn’t that Kung Lao doesn’t know he’s good—he’s very aware of his skill. It comes out as brazen arrogance. No one but Liu Kang can seem to knock him down ANY pegs. His faith, he realizes, has always been in himself and in Liu, in what they’ve built and shared. There is a depth of intimacy in that friendship that goes beyond even the physical—though there IS that.

He’s kind of in the mode of “what have the Elder Gods ever done for me?” (spoiler alert: nothing) and he questions Raiden’s motivations as he slowly adds shit up. Liu Kang is an orphan, of no family, with great power. He doesn’t know if there’s something else to it, but he sees the reactions of the elders of the temple when Raiden chooses Liu and it isn’t “weird that you didn’t choose the kid we groomed from birth to do this” but an almost insane level of like, understanding, as if this was a possible outcome. There is something else up, but he has no way of knowing it. He hates the way Liu just accepts it and while they are still capable of making jokes about the whole situation, he can sense the turmoil within Liu, as well, who is ALSO wondering why Lao wasn’t chosen.

Kung Lao is now the black sheep, the family failure, the one who was beaten out by an orphan. This really begins his “second banana” status and everyone seems to know it. They equate his brash pride to insecurity, which in a way it is, because part of him will always wonder what he did wrong, but they did not know him before. It goes from being part of his personality to being a shield. If he is arrogant and aloof, untouchable, no one will see the doubt and trepidation within. And STILL the Elder Gods do NOTHING. When he sneaks into the tournament, he’s taking matters into his own hands, where he is convinced they have always been.

See, he had been okay with dying for Earthrealm, though he was certain with this power, he wouldn’t—that he could save the place like the ancestor for which he was named. He is not ready to lose Liu Kang.

Aight so caveat here, most of this above was built with a VERY specific Liu Kang in mind and below is 100% riding on that same writer (heh riding). None of this has to, in any way, reflect on anyone else’s Liu Kang—not that I’ve seen a ton of those.

MK2021 for all its faults, had amazing characterization for the heroes, even if some of the cuts, scenes, and lines were a bit ……. Clunky. Kung Lao is clearly a powerful fighter, confident to the point of arrogance, but with the skill to back it up. Even when Cole puts him in the dirt, he hops back up and summons his hat, like “okay cool, now let’s get real” because Kombat is not like a cage fight. This is a man who knows few limitations, is highly skilled, and has clearly been raised in the faith, much like his counterpart from the games. His Arcana is passed through his bloodline, much like that of the Hasashi clan and a few others who have passed out of living memory, likely done in by previous Outworld assassination coups.

The biggest difference between games and 2021 Lao is that the latter is a man who demands proof at every turn, by force if necessary, AND HE IS AWARE OF THIS. His faith rests not in the Elder Gods—not caring much for them or their lack of involvement—but in Raiden himself and only then because he has challenged the god of thunder and was put down pretty soundly. Kung Lao respects ability. He has it, so he therefore expects everyone around him to hold themselves to that same standard.

He is two or three years older than Kang, the young orphan Master Bo’ Rai Cho brought to the temple when they are still children, probably six and nine, give or take. They have no classes together, initially, but Kung Lao ss instructed to keep an eye on him, to help him adjust. The two become fast friends and Liu Kang admires the bejeezus out of his shi xiong, both because of that age difference and the obvious experience gap, and because Kung Lao will ALWAYS go to bat for him.

Kung Lao is well aware of the stakes of this tournament, knows that it is, for the most part, riding on him. This becomes doubly true when Sub-Zero is sent to Earthrealm to start taking out the other champions, one by one, to halt a prophecy. Someone carrying Hasashi blood will upset the balance of the tournament.

He is a dutiful monk, a competent teacher, a powerful fighter, and, alongside Liu Kang, the best hope humanity has for victory. Kung Lao’s resentment, in this universe, is directed primarily toward the elders who sent Kang out into the world after his graduation from the academy as a student (as must all students, some with specific orders, and some with more vague directions) to find his true path. The elders have essentially forced Kang to relive the darkest time in his life and thence, to feel the rage and resentment that has for so long boiled beneath his skin, channeling it into a killing urge. Kung Lao protects Liu Kang from this as best he can and, more than that, he protects the world from Liu Kang.

#aboutlaometa #both of 'em are in here so

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ibringyouasong89 · 3 years

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Self-Awareness Time, Part One:

So I’m reading this article one day, (see article here: https://psych2go.net/6-signs-youll-be-single-forever/), and realize how some of this is true, but also some of it is bullshit. Spoiler Alert: I haven’t had a boyfriend since I was 18. Is it because I haven’t wanted to be with someone, or be in a relationship, since that one ended? Quite the contrary, actually. I have dreamed, since I was a small child, of a perfect soulmate for me, and that it would be a Disney-movie-ending come true for the rest of my life. Having my first (and since then, only) boyfriend break up with me (so he could go out with my ex-best friend, who in turn, dumped her boyfriend of three years - who was my childhood friend from elementary school - in order to be with him; it was dramatic, stupid, and messy, i.e. we were teenagers who thought they knew themselves but didn’t have a clue) did not, in fact, deter those dreams at all. The problem is that I didn’t learn to love myself. I learned to move on, which is always wonderful, but I didn’t hold myself in any higher esteem than I had before, and while I was with him. It wasn’t a reflection on being with him, but more or less, a reflection of myself and how I saw myself, based on my childhood and certain experiences. Fast forward a couple of years later: my parents are divorced, my father is dead, my childhood friends have disappeared out of my life for the most part, I live with my mother and grandfather (who was close to dying himself), and I am now living in a different state, faraway from everything I know and love and hate everything about this new place. I hated (and still do, for many of these points) the polluted environment, I hated the lack of nature (I moved to a metropolitan-region within the realm of a major city), I hated how crowded it is, I hated how everyone lives on top of one another; I hate the noise, the traffic, and most of all, I hated how alien and out of place I feel. I knew I didn’t belong, but because of finances, and having an ineffective bachelor’s degree (that didn’t come with a lifetime guarantee of having a career, as promised by my parents and elder generations. Though it did come with the nice guarantee of student loans), I was unable to move anywhere else. I was unable to be independent, financially or otherwise, and could do nothing to make my dreams a reality or to improve my life. In short, I was stuck. And hating every minute of it, along with myself. To be fair, I wasn’t an emotionally healthy person to start off with - but I mean, who is by the time they’re 23, 24 years old, and a culminating reflection of time, pressure, past abuse, parental issues, trust issues, abandonment issues, lack of socializing/being ostracized for being different, and self-worth and self-love issues? No one, and I mean, NO ONE, is taught how to love themselves, completely, as a child. I don’t care who raised you or where you grew up. This is a fundamental truth and fact. But I met someone. Lo and behold, there came this divine gift, one day, of someone who was just like me! He didn’t have the same issues as I, but he understood in a general sense (as any individual who has a certain degree of sympathy and empathy can do), and made me feel seen (even if I hated it at times). Someone who, in all honesty, has fundamentally changed me forever. And to think I met him at my job! (i.e. retail). This person...well, I thought he might’ve been THE ONE. I was really, REALLY in love with him. More so than I ever thought I could be with someone. Our connection was real and based on emotional, mental, and spiritual intimacy (there was none of the physical, which was probably for the best, in the end), and I had never loved anybody before, in the entire history of being connected to family and friends, the way I had loved him. I thought he was truly something special - a gift from the universe that not only allowed to experience this once-in-a-lifetime kind of love, but also because of how OBVIOUS it was that we were meant for each other. (I was so arrogant back then and admit it heartily now). Well, suffice to say, it didn’t end in rainbows-and-sunshine-for-years-to-come. He had already been entering a relationship when I met him, while also having his heart broken by another girl. As the saying goes: wrong place and time. While I was busy pining over him and fantasizing about us being together romantically (after building this incredible connection and deep friendship), he was happily living his life and enjoying his relationship...even though, for a time, he went out of his way to spend time with me and deepen our emotional intimacy further. He told me things about himself, and his life, that he swore he had never told another human being before in his life. But it all came to a grinding halt one day - out of the blue - when he severed our connection with all of the swiftness and severity of a well-placed swing from a sharpened blade. Later he would confess that it wasn’t intentional - it was because he was busy cutting other people out of his life and I got caught up in the “crossfires” of it all via social media and the like *insert eyeroll here* - but that he had also been conscious of my burgeoning feelings for him, and felt “flattered” that I had come to regard him so greatly. He promised to re-open the lines of communication between us again and to be a better friend. Spoiler Alert Part Two: None of these promises were fulfilled. Now, some of you (or whoever reads this long-ass personal post) might say “Well, maybe in knowing about your feelings, THAT was why he didn’t bother talking to you anymore. It made him uncomfortable, especially since he was in a relationship with someone else. He just wanted to make a clean break.” To be completely honest, I was aware of that possibility from the get-go. The problem is that he claimed (during this period of seeking me out and spending quality time with me) his relationship with his girlfriend was “casual.” That he was more than aware that he was her first boyfriend, but that he knew it wouldn’t last. In knowing that, he still pursued a relationship with that girl (though his self-prophecy did come to pass...three years later). Now, there were never any promises made about entering a relationship with ME, as some of you may point out as well. I agree. There are, and never will be, any guarantees when it comes to the heart. Someone who learns to love another is quite capable of also learning how to un-love that same individual, at any time. And hatred, as many know, is not the opposite of love; apathy is its true counterpart.

No, what was truly hurtful was that he knew that truth, honesty, compassion, consideration, and genuineness were core values of mine. Values that I thought he shared...but turned out to be lies when he revealed his regard, or lack-there-of, for me in the end. When he did not confront me over my feelings for him and instead played ignorant for the sake of his own happiness. When he promised that this did not interfere with his ability to be my friend, even after confessing said romantic intentions to him, and probably lying about it all the same. He knew of my past, my issues, and had probably guessed at my level of loneliness and knew about my lack of friends since moving away from my hometown...and didn’t think twice of ditching me, nor of how his sudden “ignorance” about our bond would effect my feelings. That being “one of the guys” was my true status - despite the fact that I have breasts, a vagina, lack a penis, and had never acted in a “masculine way” around him (aside from being intelligent, having common sense, being interested in comic books, music, and movies, having a deep appreciation for classic muscle cars, and a biting sense of sarcasm); i.e. no hanging out in bars with him and his male friends, no doing stupid shit for giggles, no running around in the middle of the night to each other’s houses to smoke pot and drink in the basement, not being into sports and wrestling, recalling the same stupid stories from high school and retelling them, over and over again, along with the same stupid jokes, etc...And I’m not judging any female (or person) who does DO this, or enjoy these things! I’m just simply describing how he, and his friends, acted and what their similar interests are. I was “friend-zoned” (which is a ridiculous phrase, but I can’t think of anything else to describe it as), but was NOT treated like a friend any longer. I was treated like a stranger or an acquaintance that you remember vaguely seeing in the hallways and cafeteria when you attend your high school reunion (that guy who makes you go “Oh, *Insert Name Here*! Omg! How are you?! Wow, it’s been a while! Great to see you lost all that weight! So uh...how’s things?”). In short: I was being gas-lit. For anyone who has experienced this, you have my deepest sympathies and my ear and shoulder, whenever you would like. Of course part of the blame falls on me too: for treating romantic love like a drug I couldn’t live without, for depending on someone too much for my happiness, and for allowing myself to be treated as someone who is less than worthy of real love, respect, consideration, kindness, compassion, and honest, open communication.

So, not only did this guy break my heart, but he also threw me, and our friendship, away like it all meant nothing. It became obvious then that I, and our bond, had never mattered to him at all. The worst part is that he continued to flirt with me, stringing me along (unknowingly or not), while also maintaining this enforced distance! (Which is also COMPLETELY WRONG TO DO TO ANYONE!) In truth, I think he’s an unaware narcissist who doesn’t realize, on an unconscious level, how manipulative he can really be. It’s sad. But I know, without wishing for it or egging the universe on, that there is a lesson waiting for him in the wings of the cosmos that will enable him to truly understand the lows, and highs, of true personal awareness (if it should come to pass - anything is possible, in any way, shape, or form). But back to the point: In conclusion, my soul was shattered. My heart was a destroyed. I fell into a depression based, not only on this heartbreak, but also my heart being broken by ME. I was so unhappy with everything going on, and not, in my life and it all felt so hopeless and pointless. I could see no path forward, no future for myself, that didn’t result either in me being unhappy or being unstuck. (Hell, even writing about all of this is allowing the phantom pains to rise from their graves in my heart, which makes me realize how much healing, and self-love, I still have to gain). This, however, was the beginning of my awakening for me.

It dawned on me like the rising sun within me that I really SHOULDN’T put stock into having people depended upon so much to MAKE me happy. I should be making MYSELF happy. But then the deepest question, out of the pit of darkness within my soul, arose: Why WASN’T I happy with myself?

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curious-kittens-ocs · 4 years

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Malfoy’s Ring

Okay I didn’t know how I finished this... I thought it was going to be one of my many onehots never to be written. Its also kinda long. I feel really proud of myself. I even managed to do a bit of rewriting and writing for Dreaming Reality. Anyways, here’s a little one-shot snippet thing. Shoutout to @abbyarcxnes for helping me. Thanks! <3

Ashcroft Tag: @bravelittleflower , @lizziesxltzmxn , @prophecy-grrl , @foxesandmagic Forever tag: @perfectlystiles , @guardiansofheroes (If you want to be added, or taken off of my tag. Just shoot me an ask.)

Draco knew crossing through the Ashcroft portkey would be risky, and no doubt Mr. Ashcroft would know who was coming through. He already thought poorly of Draco. Even though threat of harm from a hit wizard, frightened him. Draco cared more for Skylar’s well being than her father’s wrath. Taking a deep breath composing himself. He pushed opened the side gate to the Ashcroft backyard. The gate closed behind him sealing the portkey shut until activated again.

The aura surrounding the mansion was heavy and somber. Nothing new for the Ashcroft mansion, but as Draco stepped closer, he saw that only one of the lights were lit. It was Nathaniel’s study. It seemed as the dark lords plans began to go into effect the less and less Draco saw of his own father. It probably was similar for Skylar. Off to the side of the house was another light. Mrs. Ashcroft’s greenhouse.

The greenhouse brought a sense of life onto the mansion grounds, the idea of helping something live kept Skylar content. She had stopped receiving letter from her friends, even Harry… and Sebastian no longer tried to reach out to her. It was for their own good and at least they finally decided to take her word for it. Skylar set the watering can down on the table and sat down on the spiral staircase.

Draco caught sight of Skylar sitting on the iron bench. She wore a dark jumper and jeans. As usual her long hair was pulled back in a dark red bow. It made him smile to himself that the red bow was only red to upset Nathaniel. Instead of her being in Slytherin like Sebastian or Nathaniel, she followed in her mother’s footsteps as a Gryffindor. It was not a subject Draco would dare bring up in front of Nathaniel as the loss of Renee was still sore.

Inching closer to see the mark on her arm Draco didn’t notice the toolbox on the floor. The sound of tools shifting in the container startled the two in the greenhouse. Skylar stood and her hand instinctively went to her wand, pointing it towards Draco.

“Draco?! I could have hurt you! What are you doing here?” Skylar lowered her wand and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “If my father catches you-”

“I didn’t mean to scare you; your father is most likely in his study. I’m sure he is focused more on some task.” Draco wove off the vague threat of the hit-wizard. The silence of the Ashcroft property overcame the two of them. As the time passed them by Draco stuck his hands in his pockets to stop fiddling with his hands. He hadn’t known what to say now that he was in front of Skylar. Skylar had mimicked him, but Draco knew that she had stuck her hands in her pockets to avoid seeing parts of Draco. She had been forced to discard her gloves whenever the dark lord wanted to see what was next for fate.

“Are you sure you want to stay Draco?”

“Your father hasn’t stepped foot in the greenhouse in many years Skylar. I think I’ll be alright, besides… this is where I’m meant to be.”

“So, what was the reason you came over here then? If not to see my father that is.” Skylar snapped; her accusation was meant to hurt Draco. He had not seen Skylar in a while. He refused to cross the portkey partially of fear, and the other part because the last time he was there. Their argument had brought up harsh realities.

“He was here, wasn’t he?” Draco’s voice was softer than usual. The two of them shared a pained expression. “I wanted to see you… My father suggested different. That you needed rest.” Draco looked up from his dress shoes when he heard sniffling. The tears had already started to fall. “Skylar,” He went to hold her, only to be met with her shying away from his touch. It was clear she didn’t want to see anything anymore by accident. The look in her eyes showed he had seen too much. Draco’s eyes darted around the greenhouse finding a pair of gardening gloves and picked them up. He hit them against his hands getting off a majority of the mulch and dirt, then gave them to Skylar. Her eyes lit up and she put them on eagerly. Once the gloves were secure on both her hands Draco quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her against his chest.

Skylar’s stiffness soon melted away in Draco’s arms. The waterworks broke free and she grabbed at his shirt. Skylar didn’t care about the dirt that would most likely stain his dress shirt, nor did Draco care. His arms tightened around her shaking frame. “I’m do tired Draco… I don’t want to do this anymore.” Her words pulled at Draco’s heart. “I now understand my mother’s choice to say no… I wish it would all just… be over.”

Draco wasn’t aware he had shed a few tears until he felt a dampness on his cheeks. Quickly he wiped his eyes and returned his grip to Skylar’s embrace. As Skylar calmed down, Draco ushered them over to the bench and sat down. She sat crisscross facing him and he sat with one leg pulled up to his chest. “I’m sorry about the dirt on your shirt.” Skylar took off the gloves to wipe her own eyes. Draco shrugged. Setting the gloves in her lap the two did not meet each other’s eyes. Afraid of what to say next.

“Draco-”

“Skylar-”

The two cut each other off, followed by a short chuckled from either. Replaced by the silence once again. Skylar was the first to look two Draco. Catching sight of his family signet ring. He wished and practically begged to wear it when he was younger. Lucius Malfoy instructed that Draco would get it when he was older and ready for it. Ready. Ready for the burden that comes with it. Looking up more Skylar observed his paler skin and sunken eyes. Was he skinnier? She couldn’t tell, he was always skinny, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he had lost weight. She had done the same, she couldn’t stomach any food made with the horrors she saw. “Finally go dad’s ring hmm?”

Draco looked to her then to the ring, using his other hand to try and hide it. It didn’t work when Skylar grabbed his hand. It was Draco’s turn to try and shy away from her touch. Her grip only tightened on his hand. Her grip relaxed when Draco relaxed his hand. Her hand was soft, fingers trailed along his hand, flipping it to trace the lines on his palm. He could tell she was concentrating on not looking too deeply. “Yeah…”

Skylar held his hand and ran her index finger over the M. “Malfoy…”

“Ashcroft,” Draco snarked back to her. He smirked over to her hoping to raise her spirits. He saw her roll her eyes and smile at his attempt. It worked. “I got it just after I got the other thing.”

“My father took the gloves after I got the other thing,” The two of them knew what the other was talking about, but refused to speak publicly about it, even to each other. “Those were a sense of protection for me...”

“I’ll protect you Skylar.” Skylar dropped Draco’s hand and looked taken back. “I hope you know that… I’ll protect you. And it’s not just because were arranged to be married.” Skylar laughed at the last comment.

“I’m sure by now you realized I don’t need protecting.”

“I’m very much aware of that, but I just wanted you to know that.” Draco put his leg down and turned to fully face Skylar. Taking her hands in his own, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles. “I needed you to know that. You have been my longest friend, the one person whose always been there for me. Listened to me and accepted all of my flaws… you know there are many… the least I can do is protect you. I promise that Skylar…” Abruptly Draco let go of her hands and took off his signet ring. He turned one of her hands palm up and stuck the ring in her hand. He closed her hand with his own and took a deep sigh of relief when he saw her loving gaze meet his eyes.

“Draco Malfoy, you just gave me your ring-” She giggled and took a moment to compose herself for the major conversation. They were in a war and giving a declaration like that one need to be taken seriously. Skylar moved on hand behind her head and pulled loose the red bow. Her hair fell free framing her face. “You have been my longest friend and didn’t care about the differences in my family. And when I told you about this gift I have you did not let it change your opinion of me. I could not have asked anyone to take the risks you have taken for me. This is my promise to you, I will protect you.” Skylar grabbed Draco’s hand once more and rolled up his sleeve. She saw the dark mark staining his skin. Her fingers traced it before she tied her bow around his wrist. “There, now if we are forced apart, we have a part of each other.” Skylar slid the Malfoy signet around ring finger. The ring was charmed to fit the finger it was placed on and it sized to fit Skylar’s digit. Skylar smiled at the ring on her finger, and the bow on Draco’s wrist.

Skylar was the first to move next, shifting on the bench to be closer to Draco. He sat frozen, from both fear and tension. He knew Skylar cared for or still fancied Potter, but when she leaned her forehead against his own. The thought disappeared. The two closed their eyes both of their breaths shaky, waiting for the other to act.

“Thank you,” She whispered to him.

“For what?” He whispered back, his voice low and husky.

“For being you.” She laughed softly, her hand suddenly cupping his cheek to lean in and kissed his warm lips. It was gentle and yet another gift. Pulling apart their eyes met, and their breaths were shallow.

Unable to take it anymore, Draco grabbed Skylar’s head in his hands and pulled her back against his lips. Skylar matched his passion and kissed him back just as hard. For the first time in what seemed forever, Skylar’s every thought was obliterated. Her mind was not locked into the future, but the present. This very second. Everything else disappeared. Draco’s hand found its way around the back of Skylar’s neck urging to deepen the kiss. She followed his lead and moved closer to him one of her hands pressed against his chest. Draco’s arms snaked around her waist pulling her closer. Skylar got his signals and had moved to straddle him.

Suddenly the room was engulfed in light and the door swung open. They broke apart as quick as the room lit up being caught in an awkward situation. Both of them flushed and couldn’t meet the eyes of who walked in.

“Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you take the portkey home before I do something rash,” Skylar decided to be brave and look to see her Father standing in the greenhouse. The lights exposed his own dark circles and age lines. Skylar and Draco stood off the bench their hands intertwined and remained still, in shock that Nathaniel had ventured into the greenhouse. “Now Mr. Malfoy.” Draco realized if he didn’t go then, it would have ended poorly. He walked forward and let Skylar’s hand slip through his fingertips. “Goodnight, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Good evening, sir.” Draco muttered, refusing to meet Nathaniel’s eyesight fear of the scornful look he was no doubt giving him. At the doorway Draco looked back to see Skylar staring at him. He saw a slight scared look in her eyes, for him and for herself. “Goodnight, Skylar.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” Skylar whispered in response, watching Draco leave the greenhouse. Once he was out of sight Skylar looked back to the floor, and for comfort fiddled with the signet ring now adorning her finger.

“Skylar,” Nathaniel said, pointing to the manor. “Get inside the house. Now.” She did not need to be told more than once. She quickly moved passed her father and into their house.

Nathaniel took a deep breath smelling the many plants and flower that grew in the greenhouse. All pulled at his heart, reminding him of Renee. He loved that his children kept them alive- if only he had done the same for Renee. Pulling his wand from his coat pocket Nathaniel took one last breath and look around. “Goodnight, my love… Nox.” Shutting the door behind him the greenhouse darkened slowly. A shadowy figure stood among the flowers. Dark hair cascading down her back and a smile on her lips. She let the tears fall from her eyes, slowly disappearing into the shadows.

#ocappreciation #toalltheocsivelovedbefore #allaboutocs #occentral #fyeahharrypotterocs #oc: skylar ashcroft #oc: nathaniel ashcroft #oc: renee ashcroft #fic: seeing is believing #fic: dreaming reality #fd: harry potter #otp: its always been you

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Last one! - the future’s blurry (but the past is a trap)

Time-Travel fic!!!!! Hmmmm- what fandom what fandom so many lovely choices....

FFXV. Because that’s my mood right now (as ever).

COR.

Cor Time-Travel fic. Cor who lives to see the end of the Long Night, Cor who HOPES and dreams of helping Noctis rebuild the kingdom after he restores the dawn, Cor who is Noctis’s godfather, Cor who PROMISED Regis the first time he held the tiny sleeping infant that is now a brave and wise king that he would PROTECT Regis’s son-.

Cor who stumbles into the throne room to see three brothers sobbing over the lifeless body of their fourth and king.

And Cor ... Cor breaks. He hides in some random, rundown apartment in the empty city and drinks and drinks-

“So this is how you’re going to accept fate? By drowning yourself in a bottle?” Scorns a voice he’s only heard one time in his life but still sends him scrambling for his sword. He whirls, heart in his mouth, blade in hand and sees not a towering suit of armor with glittering eyes, but a ghostly version of a fire-eyed twenty-something adult. A towering man of nearly seven feet, board shouldered and scarred on one side of his face, dark brown hair and piercing amber eyes that mark the Amicitia line, “I had hoped for better.”

“Gilgamesh,” Cor rasps and wonders if he’s lost his mind in his grief, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” says the man with a sneer, “I should be moving on to the afterlife. I have been freed from my prison after all. The Prophecy is fulfilled.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

A pause, and the sneer, the confidence, fades away and leaves behind someone very tired and wrung out, “Because I have regrets, and you are the only one still alive for me to speak of them to. The Last Shield will not listen, he is lost in his grief and surrounded by the living. You are alone and you are open to my voice.”

Cor doesn’t like the sound of that at all, “You are not allowed to possess me.”

Gilgamesh laughs, short and sharp but oddly genuine, more animated than he ever was as a murderous suit of armor, “No. I have no desire for that.” Burning gold eyes lock with his, “I wanted to know if you still meant what you said that day.”

It takes Cor a minute to remember. Even if he knows what “that day” Gilgamesh means, it was years ago and he was an idiot at the time. Then Cor remembers, and his already broken mood sours, “I did. For whatever good it did. I’ve failed. They’re dead. Both of them.” Cor laughs and the sound is poison even to his own ears, “You were right. I am no Shield.”

“No. You are a Sword,” Gilgamesh corrects, “and you should have been treated as such. Instead you were sheltered and lied to, and those lies dulled your edge until you were useless to stop the death of those you cherished.”

Cor throws the bottle at the ghost’s head, listens to the shatter of glass as the ghost lets it phase right through him without a blink, “What do you want?” He roars at the ghost, fragments of his wild temper from his youth coming back to his bones.

“What my brother’s dear Shield is trying to say,” purrs another ghost that Cor hates even more, who also doesn’t blink when Cor draws his blade and tries to behead him, “is that we both feel terribly guilty. More than that, the rest of those who once were in the Ring feel guilty, and angry. We’ve also got a very spiteful and a very remorseful Astral respectively on our side in the matter, now all we need is a living human member of the conspiracy.” Ardyn Lucis Caelum, blue eyed and purified and just as dangerously mischievous as ever, grins at Cor as the human forms of Shiva and Ifrit manifest in his apartment, alongside far too many royal ghosts for Cor’s comfort (he firmly does not look at the ghost of Regis, sagging tiredly in a corner, the only one he recognizes other than Mors now that they are all human looking rather than giant statues with face masks).

“So,” The ghost of Ardyn purrs with a rueful smile, “what do you say to saving the world and your precious kings in one fell swoop and maybe spiting the Draconian along the way?”

And it’s a stupid idea. Cor probably isn’t even seeing any of this. He’s probably lying in the apartment, dying of alcohol poisoning and grief right now, hallucinating all of this as he goes. But if he isn’t.

If he isn’t...

“What do you need me to do?”

Their plan is simple on their end, and painful on Cor’s. They grab him and throw him back through time, drag him with them as one by one they use up the last of their magic and finally vanish, because for all Cor calls them ghosts, they are not. Living souls do not linger after they die, but memories can. Memories given shape and form by magic, and when that magic was used up and given away, the memories are shattered, turned back into the formless nothing they really were.

They carve open Cor’s being and pour their magic into it, Gilgamesh at the fore, leading the way through the howling abyss while each king and queen carves Cor open a little more and pours in the magic keeping him alive and sane as he plummets through time. Regis’s touch lingers longer than the others, a breath of apology on his brow before that memory too, shatters and falls away.

Mors’ fingers wrap around his wrist and Cor struggles for the first time as his blood burns under the king’s touch in a way the others had not, “Hold still,” snarls the man coolly, “I do this as a favor for my son and grandson alone. Hold still and let me work or you will die the moment you reach our destination.” Cor stills and his blood burns until Mors too shatters.

Then it is only Gilgamesh, Cor ... and Ardyn.

“Free me,” he whispers as he presses something into Cor’s hands (or maybe into Cor’s soul, it’s hard to tell where reality ended and magic began in this place), “Find my past self and free me, then give me this.” A chuckle, “Let’s see the Empire grow so strong without it’s Accursed to feed from.”

“What about Prompto?” Cor asks desperately, because he is here to save those he cares about, not condemn the man who was like a son to him to nonexistence.

“Have a little faith,” laughs the former Chancellor, “a King needs his Heart, and Noctis will have his. Now,” hands on his shoulders, a final yank from Gilgamesh, “Go.”

Cor wakes up.

He promptly rolls over and vomits onto the stone.

Gilgamesh, a towering suit of armor once more, watches him gasp and wheeze and shake under the too-sharp sensation of magic living in his veins and reality existing again after so much time falling through time and void without comment. When Cor is done and has staggered upright, Gilgamesh hands him a sword.

Cor leaves the Tempering Grounds unbothered by the things that lurk there and makes straight for the Rock of Ravatogh. He gains the waiting Infernian’s Blessing, then collapses in a caravan for the night after several days and nights spent walking without pause and sleeping on cold Havens without so much as a blanket.

After waking up and showering, he spends a good twenty minutes the next day cursing at a mirror.

He’s fifteen again. He’s fifteen years old when in the original timeline he would have been six (is six, somewhere out there the original Cor Leonis still lives and grows, unaware of an altered future counterpart).

He’s also not Cor anymore. His eyes are the same, icy blue and angry, his face shape is very similar-. His hair is not. His hair is black and thick and wavy, and under his skin, magic coils, deep and effortless and his, not a gift from another.

Those blasted ghosts turned him into a Lucis Caelum.

He thinks of Mors’ cold fingers on his wrist and burning in his blood, Mors’ angry demand he stay still if he wanted to “survive the destination” and swears louder.

Then he picks up his sword and disappears into the wilderness again. Let Shiva come find him. She had a talent for finding Lucis Caelums anyway.

She finds him in the Quay, as Cor steals a boat to make for Angelgard, she Blesses him and disappears, and in her wake is a winter mist that shields Cor’s journey to the isle from prying eyes.

He cracks open the prison with the magic he now has in excess, falters at the sight before him.

Ardyn looks a lot less like evil incarnate and more like a shivering, frightened, half-starved cat this way.

Also who hung up their prisoners on MEATHOOKS like some kind of slasher from a horror film?

Overdramatic Lucis Caelums, that’s who.

Cor hauls Ardyn down from his chains and carries the weak, disorientated Accursed outside. He can hear Ramuh stirring in the clouds as he takes the nameless Thing that Ardyn of the future gave him (magic, pure magic, an orb of it as bright as gold and the dawn) and crushes it against this Ardyn’s chest like he would a potion.

He sidesteps the black bile Ardyn heaves up like a drowning man ejecting water from his lungs, writhing and whimpering on the stone as Scourge smoke recoils off his body like it’s trying to escape, only to be burned clear by golden magic. Well. That was convenient. Pity he doesn’t have enough of those to cure the whole planet.

Ardyn stays silent, dazed and wide-eyed as Cor hauls him back to the mainland, steals some proper clothes and then bundles him in a caravan for the night. The man out of time flinches at every modern amenity, stares at the soup Cor roughly puts in front of him with confused eyes. Finally, tentatively, as if afraid of being struck (and that shouldn’t make Cor angry, it shouldn’t, this man killed both Cor’s kings and threw the world into darkness. He deserved whatever fear he felt, yet looking at him now Cor can feel nothing but pity and anger on the man’s behalf) he speaks, “Who ... who are you? You ... you healed me. I ... do not understand.”

And Cor pauses, because he ... isn’t Cor now is he? There is already a young Cor Leonis out there somewhere, and no one can know that Cor is one and the same person as that youth.

In the end he shrugs, “I don’t have a name.”

“...What?”

“I don’t have a name. I gave it up. It was the price for healing you.”

“Then why,” Ardyn asks incredulously, “did you heal me? I am a stranger to you, a monster.”

Cor scoffed. The Chancellor of his time was a monster. This man? This man was about as monstrous as a starving kitten, “Not anymore you’re not, so stop that.” At the sight of Ardyn’s frown, Cor rolls his eyes and says gruffly, “If it bothers you so much, give me a new one.”

Ardyn gapes, “You ... want me to name you. Just like that.”

“Is that a problem?”

The redhead stays speechless for a while and Cor busies himself polishing his sword and ignoring the fact that he’s now distantly RELATED to this man (and also, if he doesn’t miss his timeline, OLDER than Regis by several years. Thanks a lot Kings of Yore).

“Glaucus.” Cor twitched and looked up sharply, Ardyn shrank in his seat a little, “You don’t like it?”

It sounds too much like Glauca. But he couldn’t say that, and it was better than lots of other names Ardyn could have come up with. Even if he had no idea where Ardyn had come up with that name. Cor forced his shoulders to relax and went back to caring for his blade, “Do as you please.”

“Glaucus,” repeated Ardyn softly and Cor- Glaucus, resigned himself to having a name very similar to that of a traitor and imperial experiment.

Kind of fitting, considering the company he was keeping.

Glaucus set his sword aside and gestured toward the bed, “If you’re done eating, go get some proper sleep. We’ll be leaving once you wake up.”

“Where will we be going?”

Glaucus smirked and knew it was not a nice expression, “A place called the Tempering Grounds. There’s someone who owes you an apology.”

(anyway hi yes I have a new AU to keep. In it “Glaucus” is now an LC, specifically and according to blood test MORS’ kid and he’s about 4 years older than Regis. I shall expand on this new AU another time. Tagging @sparklecryptid @hamelin-born @a-world-in-grey @ean-sovukau @ertrunkenerwassergeist behold my newest insanity).

#SE asks #byakko4 asks #Secret Engima Rambles #title prompt #The Future's Blurry (the Past is Trap) verse #new au #ffxv au #time-travel fixit #cor leonis as an lc

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siennahrobek · 3 years

Text

It had been ten years that Qui-Gon had lived without his padawan.

They were not always a good ten years.

Upon not listening to his apprentice’s plea in the force, in that reactor tucked away past the ships that were rolling off of the platform to fight against the Trade Federation’s blockade, in that humming hate and anger that radiated within the room aside the Naboo palace, in that horrible place that Qui-Gon would vow to never return, there was a tragedy. One that he felt he could have prevented if he had just waited, just listened.

How many times had he reminded his boy to keep his focus and mind on the present? How many times did he dutifully listen as well as he could to his master who in all reality, just did not understand? Qui-Gon would tell the young man over and over and over again and the one time that Qui-Gon didn’t listen to his own advice, it had cost him so much.

Somehow, someway, his padawan had saved his life once last time, slicing through their opponent’s torso with a secure stroke of sai tok. He had done it and done it well and it should have been over. It should have been a victory.

It was, in some ways.

But it wasn’t before the zabrak Sith apprentice they were fighting had impaled Qui-Gon’s apprentice with a devastating and ultimately, fatal, blow.

They had both died that day.

Some would say that three beings did.

The Sith apprentice that screamed, writhing as he fell down the reactor shaft in two pieces, clawing at them, trying to take them down with him in a last act of hate and anger and desperation. The young man, the padawan, that should have been a knight, the beloved boy that Qui-Gon has grown to love so much crumbling to the floor, away from the abyss of the reactor shaft, with no physical strength left to stand. The seasoned maverick master who could only watch in absolute horror at the scene unfurling in front of him.

The boy had smiled, the kind of smile where he believed the outcome to be favorable. Qui-Gon knew that smile and he did not agree. Qui-Gon’s body lived through that day but Qui-Gon himself, a significant part of him, died alongside his padawan. He never says a thing about it, but others will, they will talk about it for years to come. Oh, his body unblemished by the duel and his lungs continued to take in breath, almost against his will. As he held the cooling body of his dead apprentice, his child, sobbing and begging for him back - to take Qui-Gon instead.

Obi-Wan had so much life ahead of him.

He was supposed to have that.

He didn’t deserve this. Not now. Not ever.

They had found him like that, holding Obi-Wan close to himself, tears dripping and his shoulders shuttering. It was some time before he would leave. He didn’t even know who exactly had found him and he didn’t care. The next several days, between the calming of the aftermath of the battle and the travel time back to Coruscant, back to the Temple, it was rather a blur. Qui-Gon just stayed with his apprentice.

The Council knighted Obi-Wan, with honors, with love and care. As if that was some kind of consolation. He would be known as the padawan, the knight, the being that defeated a Sith in over one thousand years. Everyone would know his name with that attached.

He knew Obi-Wan would have hated the attention.

Qui-Gon also knew the boy should have been knighted some time ago. Obi-Wan was self-sufficient and practical and smart. He had done a few solo missions, all passing with flying colors. His ability to survive and his silver tongue had already gained him a bit of a reputation. He had been on his way to become a great jedi knight, a great diplomat. An amazing negotiator. He should have been a knight already, before then. Most of the council had known it too. They didn’t say anything on the matter.

He was dead, it hardly mattered.

In the end, Qui-Gon couldn’t bring himself to train Anakin. If things were bad after Xanatos, this was so much worse. He thought he had done things right; just look at how Obi-Wan had turned out! He had been amazing; people loved him, he was a success on missions, he was good and kind and compassionate! But it didn’t matter. He lost him anyways. He felt bad about going back on his promise but all he could think about the Council meeting before Naboo was how he had barely given Obi-Wan a thought, such a foolish act of rejection in front of the council. As if Obi-Wan hadn’t had enough of that. How difficult that must have been, to back him up, how he must have felt.

Of course, he wanted the Force to be balanced. Any Jedi would. He still believed it was Anakin’s destiny; he was meant to do it. But for Qui-Gon, he couldn’t imagine being able to teach Anakin to a place where he could accomplish such a feat. And even further, it was hard to wrap his head around that he may see that day and Obi-Wan would not. He always told Obi-Wan dreams pass in time, to keep his mind int her present, not get caught up and bogged down by the possibilities of the future.

It seemed rather hypocritical of him, with his love and fascination with prophecies, like his master before him.

How little did he care now?

Anakin would be okay. He was accepted in with little fanfare, nearly right away passed on to a kind and gentle master, a patient one, who could and would help him, Qui-Gon had no doubt. He didn’t know who it was and he did not look for it.

Feemor, Qui-Gon’s first apprentice, had moved on without him, due to Qui-Gon’s pitiful and stupid mistakes of past. He didn’t know now what he was thinking, repudiating anyone with such a ridiculous notion. Feemor was a good knight and he would most likely be best without Qui-Gon sticking his nose back into his life, one that he had made without him. Xanatos had turned to the dark side and got himself killed, rather than get caught by his old master. Where he had gone wrong, he wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps some of it was his fault, perhaps some of it wasn’t. He was gone now. They were all gone now. And Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan was amazing. And dead.

Never before had Qui-Gon so cursed his longer life, being a force sensitive that could easily live well into three hundred years. It was not uncommon for them, for nearly any of them. Beings such as Master Yoda, would live much, much longer, well into the higher hundred numbers, nearly a thousand, if all went well. And Qui-Gon was only in his sixties, not even a third of his possible lifespan.

He had so much time.

The ten years that had passed felt more like ten hundred. Some years he avoided the Temple like a plague, filling his mind and body with missions that helped people, some of which people once believed as lost causes. He visited ancient and abandoned temples of old and history. He looked and searched and learned, discovering old languages and runes. Teaching himself how to read them, learning about as much as he could and becoming so prepared, he could probably take on any mission the Council could ever throw at him.

Obi-Wan would have loved it.

Sometimes, he felt like he could hear the young man at his side, quipping at the right times or popping in with random facts about any sort of civilization or culture or language. It was easy to hear Obi-Wan’s prim and perfect Coruscant accent, smooth to the ears, even with the heavy sighs and sarcastic witticisms and wisecracks. He was funnier than Qui-Gon had often given him credit for. They had some good times in their years, it was easy to think of them in any sort of scenario. He would talk, even when no one was around, expecting Obi-Wan to be listening, to be ready to have some kind of comeback.

It was somewhat of a comfort at times.

It was not unwanted.

Some years he spent much time at the Temple itself, close to home and close to memories. He stayed in the quarters he and Obi-Wan had shared and he just never moved out. No one had asked him too either. There was plenty of room in the Temple, it was not like anyone would need the double room apartment. He never touched his room or got rid of anything, just cleaned it, and kept it nice as his apprentice would have, even if Qui-Gon’s own room was the opposite. He made an effort, as Obi-Wan would be horrified at the state of his room if Qui-Gon let it go. There wasn’t a point to the change, he wasn’t about to take on another padawan. He didn’t think he ever would.

This time, no one even tried.

He was thankful.

He would live and live well. The loss would not shatter him. He would not spiral into his grief and become nothing more of an utter shell of what he was. But he would not forget either. Obi-Wan helped him in more ways than anyone could ever know, probably more than Obi-Wan himself had ever known. He wasn’t broken but perhaps something may have broken in him.

He would spend hours, days, weeks, in the garden, the creche, even the archives. Although Qui-Gon was the one who loved plants and his apprentice always calling them pathetic life forms, he knew more about them than anyone. Obi-Wan always liked to have all the information, even if it was just to show Qui-Gon up. The master had learned a lot from the padawans snarky comments and whether he showed it or not, he near always found them amusing. They had taught each other so much. Qui-Gon may have been the teacher, the master, but Obi-Wan kept up with his own types of teachings, although it wasn’t quite in the conventional sense. He saw things differently and Qui-Gon hadn’t always completely taken advantage of that insight.

The creche duties had started as punishments when Obi-Wan was younger. It was a common thing for most masters and apprentices, as the children were loud and projected even louder, with little shields to speak of. Creche masters were some of the strongest people Qui-Gon had ever known, he had found, even more so than any of those on active mission rosters.

Padawans dreaded two things when it came to it. Dishwashing duty and creche duty.

Some had a knack for it, of course. But even those who loved babies and children often found it exhausting. They often learned their lessons quickly. And therefore, it was a choice punishment for misbehavior in padawans as well as a source of amusement and rest for the creche masters themselves. Obi-Wan tried very hard to be perfect after their disastrous beginning, but even he wasn’t immune to messing up. So Qui-Gon had done what his master had done with him and sent his padawan to the creche to volunteer and work.

But Obi-Wan ended up rather loving going and them in the end. It took Qui-Gon an embarrassingly long time to figure out that sending him to the creche was very much not an effective punishment for any poor behavior. He found their light overwhelmingly beautiful and peaceful. The younglings loved him, as he was calm and kind and oh so patient. He supposed anyone that could deal with Qui-Gon himself had to be pretty patient. There was a young snarky Togruta that had taken to him and he to her. She would hang on him, follow him around, even sneak out to try and find him in the Temple. She was a bit feral and strong with the living force and easily excitable.

They had thought she would be his first padawan.

Volunteering in the creche was rather unlike Qui-Gon, but he could see the effect Obi-Wan had left on the children, how he rubbed off on them - in both good ways, as well as more mischievous ways. He also remembered the effect they had left on his apprentice as well. Spending time in the creche may have been physically exhausting, but Obi-Wan had always found himself refreshed spiritually and psychically afterwards, basking in the innocent light that was youngsters. It gave him new outlooks into life, being with them. As they say, everyone learns from everyone in the Temple. In the jedi. In the Order.

The togruta that loved Obi-Wan was hesitant about him as first, telling him he stunk something horrible and that was rather uncivilized, but she kept coming around to him.

Perhaps impressions of her friend was strong on him.

They never did much together, often just sitting quietly, doing some of Obi-Wan’s favorite things or going to some of Obi-Wan’s favorite places. Qui-Gon didn’t know if it helped her but he was pretty sure it helped him.

Madam Nu in the archives had somewhat of a soft spot for Obi-Wan. He was studious and quiet, and even with her, he could keep up a conversation that rivaled her own ability. With his attitude towards information and learning, as well as his punctuality and cleanliness, Qui-Gon should not have been surprised. His reports were immaculate, as he did them for his master most of the time, and it was a breath of fresh air for her. Qui-Gon tried a little harder now, if only not to see the absolute disappointment and disgust on Madame Nu’s face after any particular mission.

They never really talked but even when he accidently did something wrong, she was abnormally just a little more patient with him. He had found some of Obi-Wan’s favorite places in the archives, some of his favorite books, and read them with fervor, just in an effort to think of him, to be close. On some level, he knew that Obi-Wan had a wide range of interests but Qui-Gon appeared to have underestimated quite how wide it really was.

He would eat at Dex’s quite a bit. The besalisk always brought him something, usually one of Obi-Wan’s favorites, without saying a word. Sometimes he would come to the table and sit down, and they would talk. Dex and Obi-Wan were an unusual and odd pair of friends but it was a friendship that would not die or be forgotten so easily. Dex told him stories that he had never told anyone about him and Obi-Wan, of the few little adventures they had been on, how they had met, the things they talked about. It was a bit enlightening at times.

Qui-Gon saw very little of Anakin Skywalker but heard a great deal of him. He was quite talented and seemed to explode through lightsaber classes. He was a great pilot, although he knew that already, and quite the mechanic. It took him a while to get into other sorts of things, but it appeared he was thriving. He didn’t seem to completely resent Qui-Gon for not training him and as he grew, Qui-Gon was rather glad that he hadn’t. Even if he hadn’t had Obi-Wan’s death hanging over him, Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker would have been a disastrous pair. As the years went by, he could see Anakin’s unwillingness to adhere to the Jedi ways, even in such ways that made Qui-Gon’s maverick tendencies seem dull and decent in comparison. This fueled Anakin’s recklessness and antipathy.

He may not have resented Qui-Gon for not taking him on, but it appeared he quickly resented everyone else.

And it grew. And grew.

Qui-Gon did nothing live to see Anakin’s fall to its fruition. He didn’t survive that.

He had a feeling it had happened anyways.

No, when that sort of thing probably had occurred, the master was in wild space, far, far from other worlds and far from home, on a strange planet that was constantly plagued by storms, covered in water with small white cities just above the ocean waves.

He didn’t even remember what he had been there for. He remembered being soaked to the bone, squinting at the white insides of the buildings. He didn’t know exactly what happened, what led to it. But he fell.

There was nothing he could do.

It was a strange way to die.

He wondered what was next.

Whatever it was, he hoped Obi-Wan was there. He has spent ten years thinking of what he should have done, should have said, should have, should have, should have.

He would like the chance to say those things.

He was going to be okay.

#i know i know #i have other stuff to work on haha #but I had this #and it was short and easy to type #sooooo guess what #i had some feelings about qui-gon #like the whiplash kind #one moment I'm all like Qui-gon cool #and the next I'm just like nope #i have two things about it #we will see if the other sees the light of day #will work on my other stuff #i promise #i just have to type and edit #we are burning stars #chapter 23 is coming #i swear

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shandycandy278 · 4 years

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Swapped Fate- One Shot

A while ago, I asked AVJ if I could write a little snippet about their SwappedFate Dreamtale AU, and they said yes! :D

Basically- instead of Nightmare eating all of the dark apples, Dream eats them. Dream is also egotistical and kinda a jerk, and Nightmare is the humble and proud protector of the dark apples.

AVJ was talking about how everyone (including Nightmare) thought that he was going to fall to darkness instead of Dream, and now that Dream took his place it would leave Nightmare as a hero. They also talked about how Template would probably help Nightmare see that he could actually be that hero, and... well...

Inspiration struck.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!

Dreamtale belongs to @jokublog.

SwappedFate AU and Illusion belongs to @xx-avj-xx.

Template belongs to @unu-nunu-art.

Undertale belongs to @tobyfoxofficial.

————--

It was supposed to be the other way around.

He was the guardian of the Negative Apples for a reason. He was the one who was supposed to slowly succumb to darkness. He knew that everyone had expected it. Everyone had planned on him being the one to partake of the apples.

No one had planned for Dream to do it.

Wounded from a fight with his brother, Nightmare slowly fell to his knees, leaning up against a tree and sucking in a deep, pained breath.

Ever since Dream had eaten all of the negative apples, they had been at ends with each other. They fought almost every time they crossed paths, which was (surprisingly) often.

He kept on trying to talk the other down, but the black apples must have made him crazed to the point that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to calm him. Dream was convinced that Nightmare was the one who fell, not Dream. There was nothing he could do to get the other to see otherwise.

And now that his fate had been taken by his brother, where did that leave him?

The Hero?

“Pff, yeah right.” He grunted to himself.

Him being the hero was a laughable idea. That was why he was supposed to be the bad guy when this happened.

He realized, yet again, that he had no idea who he was now. Something about it reminded him about a warning against planning for your future, because ‘you never know where life is going to take you’, and he almost wished he had listened to that advice. He was left with nothing, now. He didn’t have a home, or a future to go to. Dream had taken that away from him.

Maybe he should have fallen to the Darkness sooner. He had always been proud of the fact that he had guarded the dark apples, but maybe if he hadn’t tried milking every precious moment of sanity left, Dream wouldn’t have fallen.

He let out a pained sigh, closing his eyes. He needed to stop dwelling on this and try to heal himself. Who knew when Dream might decide to actively hunt him down.

“Ow, Owowowowuh-“ He hissed in pain as he stretched his legs out, taking in a deep breath and holding it. When he was done moving he let the air go, relaxing a little. Now it would be easier to heal.

He started with his right arm first- he had a crack that was threatening to split his ulna if he didn’t. His eyes glowed as his lilac magic came to aid him. He placed his left hand on top of the fracture and withheld himself from screaming. His magic slowly wrapped around the wound, the pain ebbing away ever so slowly. When he was done he experimentally moved it around. It didn’t hurt anymore- at least, not as badly as it had been. Now he needed to focus on the rest of his wounds.

At one point while he was working, he heard something. It was a simple snap of a twig, but it had him standing up and summoning his spear. He held it up high, looking around the forest.

“I know you’re there!” He didn’t. “Come out, hands where I can see them!”

“Woah, there!” A glitched voice responded. “I mean you no harm, just wanted to check up on you. You were pretty wounded from whatever fight you came from.”

“I said, come out!”

“Uh, not sure if that’s a good idea. Most people run away from me.”

“Why would they run away from you?” Nightmare asked, warily eyeing the greenery around him.

“They keep on mistaking me for someone else. Don’t know who.” Some bushes to the right moved, and a figure emerged from them.

The first thing he noticed was the bright blue scarf that was wrapped around his neck. He had a red shirt under black suspenders, with a black jacket wrapped around his waist. Much to Nightmare’s surprise, he had Black bones and weird, plus-sign markings by the corner of his eyes.

His forearms were red- the same kind of red that surrounded his eyelights. The said eyelights were interesting- the one on the right was a simple white one, but the left one was a yellow diamond that had a blue diamond in it that had a black diamond in that. Or something like that. His hands were in the air with black gloves on them, and hanging off his back was a black pen with a blue holographic circlet by where an eraser would be on a pencil. Glitches covered his form, flickering to and fro.

“... You don’t look familiar to me.” Nightmare concluded, relaxing a little.

“Oh! Sweet!” The strange skeleton pumped his fist. Then he struck a heroic pose- almost perfectly, actually, and he spoke with a grand wave of his hand. “I’m Template, Guardian of All Universes! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“Guardian?” Nightmare muttered. “Like the one that Dream was supposed to become…”

“Dream?” The skeleton- Template, Nightmare reminded himself- tilted his head. “Who’s that?”

“My brother.” Nightmare hung his shoulders a little, allowing his spear to turn back into a staff. He leaned back against the tree, glancing up at the sky. It was getting light, soon he wouldn’t be able to see the stars.

He had loved star-gazing with his brother, but now…

“It’s... a long story.”

“Oh, don’t worry! I can listen!” Template walked further out of the bushes and sat down. “I want to know everything.”

“Well… okay.” Nightmare cleared his throat as he sat down, bringing up a memory that felt much older than it was, and a story he always told with it. “Once upon a time, there was a woman who sat as Guardian for the tree of feelings. The tree bore two fruits. Both of them granted immortality and the ability to sense what others felt, but were two opposite ends of the spectrum.” He held up his right hand, smiling. “The Golden Apples- the ones that held the positive feelings,” And then the left one, the smile turning bittersweet. “And the Black ones- the ones that held the negative feelings.”

“One day,” He let his arms fall. “The woman lost her life to a greedy people who wished for nothing but immortality. She died pinned to the tree, and slowly being consumed by it’s magic. In her last moments, she used her magic to create two spirits- one for each side of the tree. A human body could not contain them, so she reached out for the closest reality to hers and gave them skeletal ones. She gave them all of the information she could, and just before she was gone forever, she told the two of a prophecy.”

“‘The temptation is high,’ She said. ‘And one day, one of you will fall to darkness. One day, one will take part of the fruit, and when that day comes, the desire for people to come to the tree will be no more’.” Nightmare could almost see the children sitting before him- staring at him in awed horror.

“Don’t worry,” He wanted to say. “I’m the Proud Guardian of The Black Apples. So long as I’m here, you’ll be safe.”

But before him no longer sat a child, but some weird, glitchy skeleton that was clearly capable of taking care of himself. And no longer did he sit at the base of the tree of feelings, for it had withered and died long ago.

So he bit back his tongue, cleared his throat, and continued.

“I, being the Guardian of the Negative side, was expected to fall. I decided that I wouldn’t take any moment that I had for granted- that I’d live life and savor every second of it before that happened. I… don’t know what had gotten into him- he believed that I was supposed to be the one to fall too, but Dream had decided to eat the dark apples first. He fulfilled the role of the prophecy that I was supposed to fill, and now I just… don’t know what to do.” Nightmare raised his hands to his head, running them through non-existent hair.

That was the problem. Whenever he crossed paths with Dream, everything felt so wrong that he didn't know what to do. Even now, in the aftermath of one of their battles, he still couldn’t make heads or tails out of it.

“Doesn’t that make you the hero now, though?” Template asked, confused.

“What?” Nightmare blinked, and then instantly shook his head. “No, I can’t be the hero. I was never meant to be it. Dream was. I can’t fill out a role I wasn’t destined for.”

“What on Earth do you mean?!” Template exclaimed, waving one of his hands in the air. “Anyone can be a hero if they want to!”

“I don’t know-”

“I wasn’t a hero until I wanted to be one.”

They sat in silence after the small confession. Template continued with a small smile.

“I’ve always wanted to be one though, so I understand the confusion.” He laughed as he continued. “You see, I’m not the original guardian of the Universes. I want to be just as good as he is, though. I fight with myself a lot to do it.” He practically beamed, looking off somewhere that didn't seem to hold any specific purpose.

“His name’s Ink, and… and he’s awesome! He does everything so flawlessly and he’s so artistic! Just because I don’t look like a hero doesn’t mean that I can’t be one!” He hummed, bringing his hand to his chin in thought. Then he snapped his fingers. “I know! You need a role-model!”

“A… role model?”

“Yeah!” Template sprang to his feet, mumbling to himself as he drummed his fingers on his large stylus-pen-thingy. “I know! The original Dream!”

“The… original?”

“Well, you said that you were supposed to be the one who fell to darkness, right?” With a nod, Template continued. “That means that somewhere out there, there was a version of you who fell to Darkness! And that means that there must’ve been a Dream that became the hero!”

“Yeah?” Nightmare smiled a little, glad that at least some version of him followed the fate originally set for them.

“Yeah!” Template’s excited smile grew knowing, and he pointed a finger at Nightmare in a positive way that made his hopes rise. “And you know what? I bet that the Original Dream would want you to fight for your brother! I bet that he would be cheering you on and that he’d believe in you no matter what!”

It sounded ridiculous, and he hardly believed that any version of Dream would actually believe that, but…

It actually made him feel good.

He frowned.

“I don’t think I’m fit to try and impersonate him…”

“You’re not impersonating him!” Template huffed, stomping his foot lightly. “You’re looking up to him. You’re never going to actually become him, but you can do the best you can! Be inspired!”

Inspired, huh…?

Nightmare thought for a moment, pondering upon the other skeleton’s words. Then he smiled- bittersweet, but full of hope and a sense of… belonging.

He might not have been inspired by a heroic version of Dream, given that the only one he knew was currently trying to end his life, but…

The skeleton in front of him, Template, was inspiring in his own kind of way. Nightmare liked it.

“Then I don’t want to be called Nightmare anymore.” He decided.

“What?” Template frowned. “But you’re not-”

“I’m not impersonating the Original. I won’t take my brother’s name.” A few seconds later, it clicked in his head.

‘But I can be an illusion.’ He thought. ‘An illusion of the hero he should have become.’

Confused, Template remained quiet. It took a moment longer before Nightmare nodded, confidence flowing through him as he made his choice.

He stood up and walked towards Template, staff disappearing and hand outstretched friendly. “Maybe a proper introduction is in order, then. Hello, Template- I’m Illusion. It’s nice to meet you.”

Template’s fingers twitched at the friendly offer, and Illusion almost took back the hand with a nervous laugh when he moved. Template’s hands were shaking with what was no doubt anxiety as it slowly reached for his. A fear of touch…?

Finally, their hands met in a small and gentle handshake that only lasted three seconds. Template smiled- nervous, but completely overflowing with joy. It made Nightmare want to smile, too.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Illusion.”

So smile he did.

#swappedfate #Dreamtale AU #Template #oneshot #SF!Nightmare- Illusion

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at-the-exd-of-everythixg · 4 years

Note

💍 +][Pascal and Rhys][

@blind-mutant

send me��💍 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they get married

I'm,,,,very soft at Pascal shyly suggesting his old church because fuck it, he wants to make new memories. Better ones where he can look at the building he grew up in and...be happy.

when they get married ( ie what time of day, what month and season etc. )

Mid May! Rhys calls it his early birthday present and welp...he isn't wrong. They get married in the late afternoon since it's a good time for Rhys and Pascal's powers.

what traditions they include ( do they get married under a chuppah and crush a glass, garter toss, ‘something borrowed, something blue,’ etc. )

They don't have any traditions since the boys want something for them! Something new!

what their wedding cake looks like

Funfetti flavour since these boys absolutely just picked one at random and both of them are delighted by a cake that has FUN in it.

….who smashes cake into whose face

Rhys absolutely does but Pascal moves out of the way and smashes it into Rhys's. Full bastard mode.

who proposed to who first

I definitely think Pascal whips out something incredibly sweet, like getting the dogs to have little messages attached to their collars in braille and then having Korra with the marriage one on or Pascal having romantic night of loving Rhys and then proposing after weaving a prophecy he worked on for a few days.

,,,,or Rhys sleep deprives Pascal to surprise purpose him but mostly I think its Pascal who does it.

who walks down the aisle and who waits at the altar ( or neither )

100% I'm using this to toss in the very unlikely chance that Pascal sees his sister again so!! Cassandra walks Pascal down the aisle because "I might as well be your dad with the shitty decisions you always take". Pascal is offended but fair.

what their wedding dresses / suits / other look like

Rhys absolutely gets a beautiful outfit like this and honestly it could be black or a dress pants but I loved the stars and the big star on the chest on it while Pascal plays up the holy look and looks like he's walked out of heaven to hit that marriage up.

what their wedding colour scheme is and what sort of decor they have

O hh I like the idea of them having them a woody theme? Nice gold and black against wood and they absolutely play up the sun and moon theme.

what flowers are in the bouquet ( if applicable. bonus: what do the flowers mean? )

They have begonias, morning glories and red sunflowers since I definitely imagine they would have sunset themed flowers!

what their vows are ( eg poetry, traditional, improvised etc. )

Rhys ends up giving a sweet speech about how things are worth going through and suffering to be here with someone you love. That Pascal is special to him and worth more than anyone he's ever met and he would go through anything to be with him (but absolutely gives a more...possessive version of those vows later that night to Pascal).

Pascal talks about how he had always assumed that people would be happy before him. He would live a life devoted to too many and alone from the one person who understood him. But things are better with Rhys and Pascal wants to be by his side, devoted to him and him alone. That Rhys was something Pascal could never dream of predicting (that gets a groan out of everyone).

if anyone’s late to the wedding

Cassandra is and that's because she got wrapped up in one of her visions of Rhys and Pascal,,,Does Rhys want to know???

who’s in the bridal parties / groomsmen / other

Rhys gets his own dog and there's a small fight about Korra but they agree to share while Pascal gets Cassandra and some of his work friends. Zuko gets a special matching outfit as usual while Korra gets little dress herself.

what their bridal party / groomsmen / other are wearing

Cassandra demands a dress where her eyes can be fully out while the boys MELT over their kids all dressed up for their parents wedding.

who gives speeches at the reception ( bonus: what do they say? recount a sweet memory or two between them? tell an embarrassing story? )

Some of Pascal's co-workers give talks of seeing Rhys and Pascal with the dogs and then Cassandra just whams everyone by talking about how Rhys and Pascal could be pirates, vampires, humans or magic; the men before her are the first to marry and the first to tie their fates together for good (Rhys is S O smug at his other universe self that he got there first,,,,but a witch you say 👀👀)

who catches the bouquet( s )

Korra funs after it and the boys love her for it.

what their wedding photos are like ( are they sweet, with the couple holding hands or kissing or ~gazing into each others eyes~? are they silly, with a snapshot of the ‘cake-smash’ moment? or are they artistic, with one of them facing the sunset or holding their bouquets? )

So many of Rhys emotionally rolling his eyes at Pascal telling an awful joke and a lot more of them kissing and holding each other's hand while beaming so happily. A rather good one of Rhys whispering something to Pascal while Pascal chugs out smoke too.

what sort of food they have at the reception

Honestly Pascal wants anything that's got taste so they get homemade burgers and chips along with salads because Pacsal demands that Rhys eats healthy even on his wedding.

who cries first during the ceremony

Rhys does and Pascal cries emotionally because he refuses to do that gross hitching nosies.

how wild their reception gets ( who dances the best, who gets drunk first, etc. )

I don't think it would since Pascal burns though alcohol quicker and Rhys doesn't want to forget a single moment of this night outside of being gently tipsy. But Cassandra challenges Pascal to a dance off and oh god they're both awful its exactly like B99 of Amy vs her brother.

what their rings are like

200% Rhys will have a sun ring and Pascal a moon ring they both agreed to go all in with the celestial theme or not at all.

what sort of favours they have ( heart shaped sparklers, mini champagne bottles, personalised candy etc. )

They get personalised collars for the pets (and Cass gives one that's human sized??? Cappie whose meant to wear- oh.) And some special Japanese style bath house tickets! (Pascal sweats when he releases that it's a bath,,,,that Rhys can go naked in,,with him,,,,oh god).

where they go for their honeymoon

Probably to that Japanese bath house!! Rhys is a gremlin who needs to take FULL advantage of two weeks with a giant bath, man who can not into alter reality with predictions but,,,his corny husband who sweats when he sees thay Rhys packed the crop and lingerie.

something memorable that happens during the party / ceremony ( do they run out of ice and someone goes to get it in full formal wear on foot, does anyone fall asleep in the middle of the party, etc. )

Pascal slow dances with Korra and everyone gets into an argument about the best breed of dog. Cassandra also tells Rhys that he's been murdered by Pascal in a universe but haha what are the chances of that happening....unless??? (Pacsal reassures Rhys thay she isn't lying and that it's a joke that...he and Cass used to do a lot to people in the cult)

who officiates the ceremony

Cassandra does since she technically has some form of legal power as a cult leader and used in the Dragonfly Corporation for years now.

what song their first dance is to

My funny valentine

who gives who away as they walk down the aisle

Cassandra gives Pascal away and Korra gives Rhys!

#ask #blind-mutant #he speaks of holy fates (pascal)#headcanon #wedding meme #god Pascal would be doomed at a bath house with sexy Rhys completely full raccoon at having a husband ALL to himself #he won't be able to sit for ages sksksks #and i absolutely was not gonna pass up on Cassandra because we needed a babysitter somehow and also Pascal deserves it

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beautifulterriblequeen · 5 years

Text

TDP rewatch: there is only one way to release

So I’ve looked at the layers surrounding Rayla and how they’ve been peeling back, letting her get closer to the truth. It’s a very “changes you don’t expect” process for her, because she is growing up.

But there’s another Moonshadow character who’s having issues with layers, too. Runaan’s gotten more of his own layers stripped away than he wanted, and I’m not just talking about his shirts. What’s left may be more truth than he wants to handle, and he’ll have a journey of a different kind on his hands to deal with it.

Let’s take a look at the layers Runaan comes in with.

Layers of language: Runaan speaks in epithets: "when it is done," "accomplish our goals without sacrifice".

He uses word illusions to hide the truth of what he's doing, even from himself. This is Moonshadow tradition, since Rayla uses terms like “when he fell” later on. She picked that up from Runaan, no doubt. This is standard Moonshadow assassin terminology. But in the dungeon there's very little place for illusion anymore.

Clothing layers: Runaan came to Katolis wearing several pretty, distracting, purposefully chosen layers, each conveying its own meaning.

you’re welcome

But he loses them all by the time he’s in the dungeon. That tunic with its swoopy markings of clan or position? Gone. He has no special status in the dungeon, he’s just an elf--the enemy. The assassin hoodie? Poof. His shelter and protection for his feels when doing the hard jobs is lost. Armored leather vest? Shredded and destroyed. He has no way to protect himself from attacks--of any kind--anymore. Stylish green shirt with the hard-edged neckline? Nope. It doesn’t matter what path he’s chosen in his life, and all past accomplishments mean nothing in this place.

They take his gloves, which protected him from getting his hands dirty--literally. Now he’s gonna get dirt under his fingernails and blood on his hands.

Even his hair cuffs are pulled away, leaving his hair disorganized, loose, able to waft over and get stuck in his mouth like he’s some kind of ordinary person. He’s got a chopped lock of hair front and center, too. He’s not pretty in the dungeon. He’s not calm and composed anymore, either. He’s a very angry elf. He does a lot of glaring. His emotions ride right at the surface, and they’re not pretty ones. Runaan has nowhere to hide his feels anymore. No layers left to hide behind.

With his anger and dishevelment and bruises, Runaan doesn’t symbolize elven perfection anymore.He’s even missing part of one of his horns--a very visible indicator of his elvishness. He’s very imperfect now. And since the elves were designed to represent perfection and the humans to represent imperfection, Runaan is now, dare I say it, nearly human in his imperfections.

I’mma run with that for a moment.

On the balcony, Runaan has a moment where he lets his life go and surrenders to his fate. He lets go of his hopes and dreams, his fears, and the very Moonshadow-ness of his soul. He is Already Dead, and the dead have no need of rituals anymore.

He expects to die, but he doesn’t. So he ends up surviving in a weird purgatory of pain and imperfection, unable to die as quickly as he’d like, unable to be the elf he used to be. He’s not very Moonshadow, and not quite human.

Runaan’s destiny hangs in the balance. And then things get worse.

Viren drags in the mirror, and, among all the other terrible things it brings him, Runaan is forced to study his own reflection. And not just his usual reflection. Oh no. It’s much worse than that. Since Aaravos is watching from the far side, the magic mirror’s reflection is reversed. Meaning that Runaan sees himself as he has literally never seen himself before: he sees himself as everyone else sees him. He sees himself through the eyes of the Other. Stripped down to the angry, disheveled killer he is.

He’s no perfect elf now. And he never has been. He’s a disaster. And once again, there’s literally nowhere to hide from this realization. He’s literally chained in place as he faces the truth of who he is. Runaan, broken down to his most basic elements, is a feral predator.

This is the bare truth that he never wanted to see. This is what he’s been hiding under all those pretty illusions--the clothing, the words, the rituals, the hairstyle. It’s all frippery. Underneath all his illusions is a truth that scares and shames him--Runaan shows fear for the first time when he looks at his own reflection: Because Runaan himself is worse than death.

When he closes his eyes, that’s when it hits him. What he is, who he’s become. Who he’s been all along.

Remember when Viren yelled at the mirror, saying “You were supposed to be something special, something important”? And we all know he was really talking about himself?

This is Runaan’s mirror moment When he tells Viren, “You have found something worse than death,” yes, he means the mirror. But just as Viren’s words reflected his true feelings about himself, so too do Runaan’s.

(This is a fun mirroring effect, isn’t it? Ahaha. People talk about the mirror, and they’re also talking about themselves. Keep an eye on that for later, friends. It’ll probably show up again.)

Runaan literally can’t handle this truth. So he does the only thing he can; he pushes Viren to kill him. Is he running away from his sins, or atoning for them? Maybe he’s still Moonshadow enough to do a little of both.

You’d think by this point that there’s nothing left to peel away, but boy howdy there is. Viren casts a dark spell on Runaan and literally peels his body out of reality and traps him in a coin. Which is also worse than death. Literally nothing of Runaan is left in reality now. His voice is silenced. His clothing is scattered. His physical perfection is damaged. And his utter existence is erased. For most characters, this is the point at which they die. But somehow, Runaan’s not dead.

He’s left purgatory behind. Now he’s in limbo. It remains to be seen whether his journey will carry him to hell--Moonshadow spirit world, perhaps?--or whether he’ll find literal redemption, or both, in that order. Perhaps this is precisely the pattern Runaan’s story arc is meant to take. Perhaps his story will be quite literally about saving his soul.

In any case, Runaan has a chance to be reborn as a different version of himself, if he chooses. And he’s already let go of his former life. He let all that slip away on the balcony--his duty, his expectations, his loyalties, everything. Maybe he won’t pick it all up again. Maybe he won’t pick up any of it. Maybe that’s the price he’ll have to pay, as a character, to move forward.

Because when you’re bound by duty, there is only one way to release:

Kill the target.

Runaan must kill his old self if he wants true release, coin or not. To free his soul from his sins, Runaan will need to bury who he used to be, to let Runaan the Moonshadow Assassin die. Will he still be an assassin? Will he even be a Moonshadow? (did Viren really power the coin spell by burning Runaan’s arcanum? ghghghgh) Or will he somehow find a way to bridge the gap between his feral elven “perfection” and the oh-so-human damage he’s carrying?

There’s no way Old Runaan and New Runaan can peacefully coexist, not after what he’s been through, not after he’s seen who he truly is. Just like the prophecy in Harry Potter, neither can live while the other survives.

There is only one way to release.

#runaan #tdp meta #moonshadow assassins #okay sorry i know this got really long #but i've been mulling over his story arc for a long time #and this is the only way i can see forward for him

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bthump · 5 years

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what do you think about the prophecy? "He is the one who shall bring an age of darkness upon the world" what does this mean? is griffith really going to turn out being the bad guy( I hope not) or guts is going to change this prophecy somehow? (because he should have been a sacrifice but he is alive?) also why does schierke call griffith false?

Ok so I re-read a bunch of scenes relating to the prophecy to try to come up with a decent answer, and honestly I think I might’ve been better off just going “idk probably depends on your pov” lol.

But I came up with some things to say and I’ll try to lay out my thoughts in a somewhat organized way here, so bear with me.

At the end of the Eclipse, Slan is all, now that the fifth angel is here the time of darkness descends. Then she defines exactly what the Age of Darkness will entail:

Soon Farnese shows up and recites the prophecy. This also happens right after the Eclipse, before the Black Swordsman arc will have taken place, two years before the next time we see these guys:

The fifth angel, the Hawk of Darkness, pretty obviously Femto. There’s no mystery here.

And honestly, the Age of Darkess is pretty explicitly discussed during the Conviction Arc. There’s really no mystery there either, at least not yet.

(I’m relatively certain that last line is essentially identical to “they sensed intuitively” from NGriff’s resurrection, and which I’ve also seen translated as “knew,” and so I wouldn’t put too much stock in the word “believed” there as purposefully leaving room for doubt, just fyi.)

Like, this is hammered in over and over. This prophetic dream of plague and natural disasters and war and famine, followed by Laban bemoaning the state of the world as these events come true and he encounters a landslide and a village full of plague, and we see tens of thousands of starving refugees outside the Tower of Conviction, and Kushan war elephans make an early appearance, etc.

Dark shadow, darkness that covers the world, thick darkness, utter darkness, etc etc. It’s not subtle, and it’s pretty clearly the intended follow-through to Slan’s words and Farnese’s prophecy. The Conviction Arc shows us the world that’s shitty enough to motivate humanity to will a saviour into being.

Also while Age of Darkness sounds a little too impressive to be boiled down to a measley 2 years that suck extra hard, I’d argue that this is more like the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Plague and famine etc just draw into sharp relief the divide between the have and the have-nots, which is largely what the Conviction Arc is about. It’s about nobility terrorizing peasants through the Inquisition, and neglecting peasants as Laban muses that the King is too obsessed with trying to find Griffith to allocate resources to relief efforts, and how much this fucks the world up.

The Conviction Arc shows us a pretty good example of a world where darkness, ie wickedness, hatred, hostility, the dead, and illusion (I’d argue Mozgus’ brand of religion, especially with how much fun the narrative has with painting it as super fucked up and hypocritical etc, like God’s love being a torture chamber, fits that bill) covers the light.

And it’s the kind of world that Femto requires in order to be incarnated physically.

So whether the “Hawk of Darkness,” directly caused this “Age of Darkness,” or whether it’s more like, yk, humanity/fate caused it itself because humanity’s negative emotions reaching a critical point allows him to incarnate and change shit up as per humanity’s desires (this is all there in the Lost Chapter), I’d stay it fits the prophecy. Femto = Hawk of Darkness = Age of Darkness = all the darkness of humanity emphasized.

But this gets muddy once NGriff does show up and we get the sequence where his apostle captains meet him etc:

Like okay, so Schierke’s maybe just reciting the old prophecy, since it’s the exact same wording Farnese gave us, so maybe this doesn’t change what we were lead to believe was the Age of Darkness? I mean at this point we’d be still in the midst of it, going by what was stated in the Conviction Arc. The future tense could just be because it’s an old prophecy.

But the future tense is there (and I double checked with a scanlation lol, and it was there in that translation too, so I’m assuming it’s part of the original Japanese wording), and it’s worth considering that this is still meant to be foreshadowing and the Age of Darkness is yet to come. In which case it would presumably be Fantasia.

So one possibility is that the Conviction Arc is either a giant Age of Darkness red herring or it has been retconned out of being the Age of Darkness, and we’re meant to understand Fantasia as the prophecized Age of Darkness brought down by the Hawk of Darkness.

I’m not fully on board with this possibility because a) the Conviction Arc was pretty damn straightforward and made perfect sense as the AoD and I hate retcons, and b) Fantasia is defined by light lol, not darkness. Both literally in that a bright white light envelops the Earth as it changes and it’s often described in terms of light, and figuratively in that I’d suggest every one of Slan’s examples of light up there (love, hope, etc) is illustrated in the nature of Fantasia. Humanity joining together despite differences including apostles, hope, astral planes merging (which I’d argue makes the world more real, not less), the living (NGriff’s funeral services make people more at peace with the idea of death and able to emotionally recover from the loss of loved ones much easier), and I’d also argue that this chill easy going accepting version of organized religion we’ve seen fits the ‘sacred’ bill a lot better than Mozgus’ horrific version.

Admittedly you can argue the opposite for some of these points, like maybe Griffith’s funeral services making people more cool about death is a bad thing and an example of death eclipsing life. Maybe the astral plane is supposed to be more illusion than reality. Maybe we’re eventually going to see hostility and hatred in the world outside Falconia. Hell, maybe the Sea God slog was meant to be indicative of the ~darkness~ (and to be fair I did not re-read much of the sequence to try to find examples of the narrative evoking darkness as a description, so it could be there. But it’s gonna take more than an anon ask to get me to re-read the entire Sea Sea god subplot lol.) But even from Guts’ perspective the joining of the astral plane also includes wholesome Elfhelm-y shit, so it’s still not as simple as evil sea gods and monsters now getting to fuck shit up, we also get helpful mermaids and stuff.

So yeah so far given what we know, the pre-Fantasia world fits the description of the Age of Darkness perfectly and really heavy-handedly lol, with all the references to darkness involved, and Fantasia is a lot less clear-cut.

So the way I’d interpret this prophecy is that Griffith is both the Hawk of Darkness and the Hawk of Light, which imo is likely to be in part an on the nose reference to Femto as his inner darkness vs NGriff who does, in fact, save the world in a way characterized by light lol.

And which one you see him as depends on your point of view. It’s not that Sonia is wrong and being tricked and Schierke is right and sees the truth. It’s that Sonia, living in the Age of Darkness, losing her parents and almost being enslaved etc, and being saved by Griffith, is in a position to see Griffith as a saviour, along with most of the rest of humanity, which was collectively crying out for a change that Griffith’s dream and goals in particular are suited to enacting.

Schierke, distanced from humanity, not actually in danger of being burnt at the stake or starving to death or whatever, and more knowledgeable about the astral plane, sees Griffith as the Femto-y Hawk of Darkness, king of the blind white sheep (his human followers, one presumes), master of the sinful black sheep (apostles one also presumes).

And the fact that this chapter doesn’t end on Schierke’s assessment but on Sonia looking on at Griffith in awe, followed by yk 150 odd chapters of NeoGriffith being portrayed as the protagonist of his half of the story rather than the antagonist of Guts’, followed by seeing those “sinful black sheep” and “blind white sheep” up close as interesting and likeable characters in their own right who go out of their way to help people (Sonia rescuing Kushan children, later apostles helping humanity, eg), make friends with some of Guts’ rpg group including Schierke, at one point join Guts and co in a fight against a greater enemy while being directly paralleled to Guts (Zodd), etc suggests that maybe that particularly harsh description is not fully accurate or fair.

If Fantasia does turn out to be the (an?) Age of Darkness after all, I imagine that would also be depicted as a more dual thing depending on your perspective. For those getting eaten by dragons, yk, maybe Age of Darkness is a fair description. For those living in peace, maybe it’s not.

Also as an aside, to address a counterpoint I just came up with lol, I don’t think the relative tininess of Falconia vs the rest of the world has much bearing on this. Miura’s Berserk is pretty solely focused on this one particular chunk of the world, and there’s virtually no acknowledgement that Midland and the surrounding area is actually just a tiny microcosm of the world. I mean, the Godhand and the Idea of Evil are presumably not solely the manifestations of fantasy Europeans’ negative subconsciousnesses, but it’s their suffering and their inequal society that allows Griffith to manifest physically. No acknowledgement as to whether like, the wildly different societies throughout the world, some of which are probably more equal and less hit by plague and famine, and therefore more content, should counterbalance all the suffering in Midland and area lol.

To me this feels like a pretty typical issue/trope with medieval fantasy that Miura’s just kind of casually playing into bc he doesn’t particularly care about subverting it or making a point about it so much as he cares about using this established structure to tell his own story. Even during the Fantasia montage, we only saw medieval pseudo-Europe. The lone acknowledgement that the world is technically bigger than a stretch of land between Midland and fantasy India (+ Elfhelm) was the page of the bright light spreading across the Earth as seen from space. And like, a secretive conversation between 2 of Guts’ current allies (Magnifico and Roderick) discussing the possibility of colonialism lol.

Again, maybe we’ll see acknowledgement in the future? Maybe eventually the narrative will come out and say that yeah, it’s absolutely absurd to think that a happy kingdom whose residents number in the thousands is a beacon of hope for 99.99% of the world that has no way to get to it lol and is presumably, in theory, stuck with their own dragons and stuff now. Maybe Berserk will ultimately turn out to be a giant thoughtful subversion of European-esque fantasy stories that treat Europe as the centre of the world. But based on what we’ve seen so far I don’t think there’s much reason to assume that lol.

Like even the Elfhelm warlocks don’t point that out when they had the perfect chance to, they just say that it sucks that Griffith made his kingdom the only peaceful place, forcing people to choose between Fantasia and Falconia. They don’t say that the vast majority of the world doesn’t even get access to that choice lol, and so I don’t think it’s meant to be relevant.

I also want to point out that Miura redacted the Lost Chapter because it gave too much away too soon, and has since spent some time hinting about things those of us who’ve already read it probably know.

Like Flora doesn’t know what that something lurking in the abyss is, but we do, and it’s humanity’s dark, painful subconscious itself.

Griffith is essentially the avatar of humanity, hence why he’s humanity’s “desired,” and is remaking the world in humanity’s collective image. And like humanity isn’t all good or all evil but contains both, so does NeoGriffith, imo. Even the “Idea of Evil” isn’t evil itself, it simply fulfills a role humanity desires - the role of villain, essentially. It’s the reason why bad things happen, it’s the scapegoat for humanity.

The Hawk of Darkness is symbolic of the darkness of humanity - and that’s pretty much the point of Femto, I mean just check Slan’s heavy-handed Eclipse commentary of “this is what it means to be evil. This is what it means to be human” - and the Hawk of Light is symbolic of at least the potential humanity has to overcome that darkness, imo.

I’ve always puzzled over pain vs salvation there, and I still do, but hey one possibility is that it’s a suggestion that humanity’s over the Idea of Evil being the scapegoat that brings them pain (fate making bad things happen basically, so humanity has something to blame), and wants it to bring them salvation instead - light. And through NGriff’s transformation of the world, humanity reaches that light themselves by uniting in peace to survive against their own demons. Even outside of Falconia, humans are only going to be able to live in a world full of fantasy monsters by uniting together lol.

And like until I’m conclusively proven wrong I’m going to maintain that

Fantasia being defined through joining humanity together is pretty solidly framed as a positive thing. Maybe humanity working together in peace is light and salvation, love over hate, hope over hostility, reality over illusion (the ultimately meaningless differences that divided people), etc.

SO I guess at the end of the day what I think is that Griffith is simultaneously the Hawk of Darkness and the Hawk of Light, that while Fantasia has some downsides to say the least lol we’re not necessarily supposed to take Elfhelm Warlock dudes’ assessment as the be all end all either. We’re getting 2 sides to this utopia story and we’re probably meant to judge for ourselves whether it seems worth it or not. Schierke would say no and prioritize the darkness of Griffith, ie the Hawk of Darkness, Sonia would say yes and prioritize the light, the Hawk of Light, and neither are wrong. But idk, maybe both might be able to grow from seeing the other’s point of view and incorporating it into their own understanding of the world.

I’m also thinking this dark vs light stuff is going to come into play in a big way when Guts and Griffith confront each other, and I imagine that their relationship is actually going to get the final say in all this. Hate or love, hostility or hope, illusion or reality, the dead or the living, wickedness or sacredness. Does this not to a tee describe them post Eclipse vs pre Eclipse?

Maybe if the Age of Darkness is still to come afterwards, they’ll end up plunging the world back to its original status quo when they conflict and kill each other or whatever, and take Falconia/the world tree/whatever down with them. Maybe NGriff’s unfrozen heart will come into play as the final piece of the thematic puzzle if the Hawk of Light represents the light of humanity, which ofc includes love. Maybe all it will take to conclude the themes in a satisfying way is a moment of understanding of that “true light” between them, discovered in darkness, while they fight.

Like you’ll pry my reading of Berserk’s themes as consistently and thoroughly existing to symbolize Griffith and Guts’ relationship out of my cold dead hands lol.

Fuck sorry this got so long and meandering. What did I say about trying to keep my thoughts organized lol?

Anyway tl;dr I don’t know shit and I don’t think the world of Berserk actually makes much sense, but let me throw out some theories and interpretations of possible contradictions and weird ass world building lol. And I mean, Miura is pretty consistent in interviews about saying Berserk isn’t about plain old good vs evil, so it wouldn’t surprise me at all to get something more complex and interesting than “Griffith is the evil Hawk of Darkness tricking humanity into seeing him as the Hawk of Light, and Guts is going to save the world from him.”

OH SHIT AND I ALMOST FORGOT: I have no idea where Schierke calls Griffith “false,” so you’ll have to point that part out to me, unless it’s just a difference in translations or something. Sorry I can’t address that part, hopefully you’ll at least scroll to the end and see this even if it’s super tl;dr lol.

#Anonymous #ask #a #berserk meta #b #lost chapter spoilers #theme: fate #character: neogriffith #theme: true light #theme: morality #berserk is a lot of things but it's not overly simplistic i'll give it that #theme: spirit world

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fortunatelylori · 5 years

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"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.” The prophecy is obv about Drago returning and by listing all things that are impossible she's basically saying never to his return. Why all of a sudden would the child be a possibility if none of those others are? This is about Drago not a baby. (1/2)

I think the emphasis on the kid aspect of the prophecy was definitely a misdirect in Season 7. Mirri didn’t even say the whole prophecy in s1. The last 2 lines were left out. We’ve really only had it through Danys POV that dragons were the only kids she could have because of the witch’s curse. She didn’t set out to hurt the child or future children. She was warned. Seems like Dany’s womb paid for Drago’s “life” and not specifically that child. (2/3)

And maybe the reason he was in a vegetative state as opposed to full resurrection is because of the womb. I don’t think she had any intentions of harming the baby but then she came in. She probably meant to put him in that state the whole time but by the horse. Unless the mountains start blowing in the wind along w that other stuff she’s not having a baby

Hey, nonnie!

I agree. Mirri’s prophecy, if it’s indeed a prophecy, is in regards to Drogo, as an answer to D*ny’s question:

D*ny: When will he be as he was?

I do think people wrongly assume that Mirri killed D*ny’s baby and, moreover, that she did it intentionally but, considering how events play out, I doubt that, as well.

Mirri warns D*ny not to go into the tent while she is preforming the ritual which D*ny later on assumes is what kills her child. But since Mirri specifically tells her not to go in there, it’s clear she didn’t have the intention of killing the baby.

A lot of people assume it because of Mirri saying that D*ny knew what she was paying in order to have Drogo back, implying that somehow D*ny was willing to pay for Drogo’s life with the life of her child and D*ny herself questions this in her thoughts but then decides not to think about it and instead utilizes her mantra of:

D*ny: If I look back, I’m lost.

Honestly, I’m not sure D*ny’s womb paid for Drogo’s life. I tend to think that her infertility is her payment for the awaking of the dragons from stone. It’s rather the ritual that follows when she enters Drogo’s pyre that renders her infertile and thus becomes the Mother of Dragons.

This is given credence in my mind because during her fever post-Rhaego, she actually reaches for her eggs and she keeps having these very strange dreams that eventually lead her to enact the ritual.

However, the more I think of the baby foreshadowing in season 7, the more I wonder where the writers intend to take this. Because I do think this isn’t just a misdirect and that we will have some sort of pay-off for it. I just don’t think it will come in the form of a baby.

Somehow, I think it’s connected to this scene:

youtube

This is a difficult scene to interpret for two reasons:

1. It isn’t part of the visionsthat D*ny gets in the House of the Undying in the books. And when talking aboutthis scene, D&D said they filmed it because they wanted to work with JasonMomoa again.

Which I’d almost buy if itwasn’t for the fact that in order to reach the tent where Drogo and Rhaego are,D*ny is actually walking through the Wall. They are trying to link the scene ofD*ny seeing her husband and unborn child with the Wall, the location we connectthe most with Jon Snow and the fight against the White Walkers.

So the show does take the timeto foreshadow D*ny and Jon meeting as well as D*ny being involved in the WhiteWalker war in some way. And the issue of motherhood, family and love is alsopresent.

2. This vision is, in part, amanipulation on the part of the Undying who want to keep D*ny prisoner in theirtower in order to control her dragons. So obviously presenting her with thehusband that she loved and the child she almost had, is meant to pull at herheat strings. And it almost works.

What pulls her out of the tentare the distant cries of her dragons. So in a symbolic sense, D*ny once againchooses her dragons over her human family.

I wonder if this is alsoforeshadowing for D*ny doing the same in the future when she has to choosebetween protecting her dragons and continuing to support Jon in the War for theDawn.

In regards to the baby, a whileago I put forth the idea that perhaps D*ny will have a shadow baby, via herrenewed connection with Melisandre. I do think Mel is coming back in season 8and that she will end up doing to D*ny what she did to Stannis.

Stannis became so wrapped up inthe Azor Ahai prophecy that he ended up burning his own daughter at the stake.Mel was wrong in thinking that he was Azor Ahai but I think she will soonrealize that D*ny is, in fact, AA which will lead her to push her fanaticismeven further and attempt to steer D*ny towards whatever she reads in herfires.

So, at some point, I do believethat D*ny will think herself pregnant and this will be justified by Mel insaying that Jon is, somehow, “Drogo come again”. Which will make sense toD*ny because Jon came back from the dead which is something Drogo didn’t manageand also that Jon is, in actuality, the first man after Drogo that she hasfallen in love with (in the show, she states that she never truly cared forDaario).

In addition to that, theUndying vision could be interpreted as D*ny finding love and having a childagain, if looked at on the surface.

However, the fact that D*nyabandons the tent in search of her dragons, that the Wall is essentiallysuperfluous to the entire scene leads me to think that this won’t play outstraight.

Then there’s thedialogue:

D*ny: This is dark magic, like themagic that took you from me.

Incidentally the same magicthat Mel has and that brought Jon back from the dead.

D*ny: Maybe I’m dead and I justdon’t know it yet. Maybe I’m with you in the Night Lands.

Drogo: Or maybe I refused to enterthe Night Lands without you. Maybe I told the Great Stallion to go fuck himselfand came back here to wait for you.

As far as foreshadowing goes,this isn’t all that positive. Drogo essentially says that he’s stuck in someform of purgatory and D*ny thinks maybe she’s dead.

Drogo: Or maybe it’s a dream. Yourdream, my dream … I do not know. […] And if this is a dream, I will kill theman who tries to wake me.

All this talk of dreams reeksof self-delusion, which is exactly what the Undying hope will make D*nystay in the tent. The cries of her dragons give her the strength to pullherself out and leave but will she be able to remain as clear headed movingforward?

Her falling in love with Jonand convincing herself that he’s in love with her as well, followed by herbelief that she’s pregnant, feels like self-delusion to me. A seemingly prettydream with a very dark reality hidden beneath.

Also, it’s interesting thatwhile she is in that tent, she never picks Rhaego up or holds him, while we seeher leaving the House of the Undying like this:

I’m sorry if this answer turned out more jumbled but this aspectisn’t, as of yet, all that clear to me, to be honest. I just feel like thisvision will somehow come into play in regards to the Jon/D*ny romance and thebaby talk. And that it doesn’t really have positive connotations.

If anyone else has furtherthoughts on this, please leave them in the comments section. I’d be verycurious to hear how you think this vision might come into play in season8.

Thanks for the ask!

#anti-daenerys #anti-jonerys

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