#darker. and even though it's a story of her suffering it's still presented as a shiny fun pop song and ajshdhfhfh ok... 6. the lyrics fall

[hyunbunlix]

Ameliorate [white king!Jeongin]

Characters: Jeongin, fem!OC Rating: A/O for Adults Only Content Warnings/Tags: killing/death, blood, blood magic, unprotected sex, switch (sub-leaning) Jeongin, riding, missionary, praise kink (m. receiving), dirty talk, raw male orgasm Word Count: 9,989 Summary: Jeongin has spent years as the king of White Seoul trying to keep the neighboring dimension, Black Seoul, from devouring his home. When his cousin, the queen, is killed, he's forced to take her killer as his new queen and borrow her magic to reinforce the boundary between White Seoul and Black Seoul. Very quickly, though, Jeongin realizes he wants more than a begrudging partnership between them. Note: This story was inspired by the world of A Darker Shade of Magic by V. E. Schwab.

When she killed the queen of White Seoul, she hadn’t been thinking about consequences. She hadn’t been thinking about what role this woman played in the ecosystem, or what seams she was holding together.

            No, when she killed the queen of White Seoul, she had only one goal in mind, and it was not becoming a human sacrifice.

            All things ran on magic in one way or another, but White Seoul was exceptionally ruthless, exceptionally greedy. More often than not, the tithe required to keep the world together was blood, and magical blood, at that. Without it, the rains would dry, the sun would burn, the plants would wither. If the world could not drink blood, then those who dared try to live at its expense would pay.

            But she hadn’t been thinking about that. None of it had crossed her mind for even a moment. Under the threat of kill or be killed, she had chosen to kill White Seoul’s queen.

           And why should she not? Why could the queen’s blood not be what watered the ground, what fed the greedy earth and appeased it for a time? Why should the queen get to live while choosing who among her subjects would suffer?

            She also had not stopped to consider the more immediate consequences. She was seized upon by soldiers and dragged to the palace, directly to the throne room. She had not paused to consider what the king would say, what he would do.

            White Seoul was a strange place, and so its rules about royalty were strange, too. The king and queen had not been married; in fact, they’d been related. Cousins. The pair of them happened to be the present strongest in their family line, and so they were chosen to rule together and keep everyone else under control. It was that simple.

            Until, it seemed, one of them was no longer strong enough.

            The queen-killer was flung onto the hard floor, losing her purchase immediately and putting both hands down to catch herself. Both hands, which were still stained in the queen’s blood, and so, too, stained the marble floor.

            She jerked her gaze up as the captain of the guard announced her name, defiant and angry, to meet the eyes of the king, who looked every bit as furious as she. He was nearly statuesque with his pronounced cheekbones and strong jaw, his hair a white blond that contrasted beautifully with his golden brown skin. Dressed all in white, her blood would have been stark, should he decide to draw it.

            Or, his blood would be stark, should she manage to open his veins first.

           She flung out with her power, emboldened by her first kill, and drove the soldiers back. As quickly as she’d moved, so did the king, coming down off the dais and striking out at her with a short, flat sword. She jumped back; a guard gripped her ankle and tried to pull her down, tried to force her prostrate to make her easier for the king to execute. She sent a current of lightning down her leg to throw him off. Just in time, too, narrowly dodging another blow from the king.

            “She killed the queen!” cried one of the guards near the back wall. The king’s eyes flashed darker, but he hesitated, halting his next strike.

            “Is this true?” he asked, and she was stunned by his voice, soft and sweet and not at all fitting for the ruler of a world as jagged as this one.

            She spread her sticky hands, as though that was all the answer he needed. Still, she answered aloud, “Yes.”

            His jaw clenched, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade.

            “You have no idea what you’ve done,” he said. She glowered at him.

            “I defended myself.”

            “You didn’t have to kill her.”

            “You have no idea what I had to do. You weren’t there.”

            The king regarded her coldly, but didn’t refute the point. To her shock, he sheathed his blade with a metallic snap.

            “Come. There’s something I need to show you.”

            He turned and started for one of the halls perpendicular to the throne. She should have taken the opportunity to strike his unguarded back, but something stayed her hands. She followed.

            “You have no idea what you’ve done,” he repeated, though his voice was less combative than the first time.

            “Enlighten me, then,” she said. He glanced at her. His expression was stormy, but he didn’t read as threatening any longer.

            “Do you know why the palace was built here?” he asked. Her expression creased with confusion.

            “No. What does that have to do with anything?”

            “The palace was built here because this is where the veil between White Seoul and Black Seoul exists in its thinnest state. This is the way between worlds. And Black Seoul has been trying for centuries to get in.”

            She remained silent. She knew of the existence of other worlds, stacked atop one another like the pages of a book, but had never been to one.

            “Do you know why there are always two rulers of White Seoul?” he asked next, looking her hard in the face. They had reached a circular atrium of a room with sigils all over the walls, floor, and ceiling. Things felt . . . wrong within its bounds.

            She worked to steady her breathing, the room itself exerting a pressure upon her that made her want to descend into panic. Through the noise in her head, she tried to think. With everything she knew, surely she could divine this answer.

            A shiver went down her spine as she realized the sigils were all drawn in blood.

            “It takes two to hold it back,” she whispered. The king regarded her evenly. She thought he looked pleased she’d figured it out, but she’d likely imagined it. Compared to the threatening aura of the room, the king seemed docile.

            “With my cousin dead, I need a new queen to help me keep it at bay. You killed the queen, which means you’re at least equal in strength to her. Therefore, this is the punishment for your crime. I’ll have you coronated tomorrow morning,” he said.

            “Just like that?” she asked in disbelief.

            “I don’t have any other choice,” he answered, his voice gaining an edge that reminded her of his blade. “I’ll show you to your rooms.”

It seemed there was a second part to her punishment, and that was being made to live in the chambers of a dead former queen.

            The first night she hardly slept, both out of disquiet at inhabiting the rooms of a ghost and out of nerves for the day ahead. Would the people of White Seoul accept her as the new queen? Did it even matter if they did?

            The questions, unanswered, swarmed her thoughts like gnats until dawn arrived and a pair of attendants came to ready her. Apparently, the king had not been joking when he’d said morning.

            It occurred to her that she didn’t even know his name. The titles had always mattered more than the names. She was fairly certain he was a Yang, but that was all. The rulers all seemed to die relatively quickly. Even when power managed to stay in the same family for more than a generation or two, the names and faces changed far too often to remember them all. At least, she personally had never seen the point in devoting time to the practice.

            The attendants made her presentable, styling her hair simply but elegantly, putting the barest hint of cosmetics on her face. Finally, they dressed her all in white, as the rulers always appeared to their people.

            They led her to the end of the queen’s wing, where the king was waiting to walk with her. He looked every bit as regal as the day before, his blond hair styled back off his forehead, causing one’s full attention to go directly to his sharp fox eyes. He, too, had had cosmetics applied with a subtle hand, which only made his eyes appear fiercer. He looked at her with an unreadable expression, then offered his arm.

            “This shouldn’t take long,” he said as they walked. “I’ll do the talking, since I’m the one with the rapport. There will be time later for the people to know you.”

           “Understood,” she said, relieved. She had no idea how a ruler was supposed to behave, except that she felt the former queen had done a sorry job of it. Probably not the best sentiment to bring forth to a public that would shortly begin grieving.

            As they proceeded out of the palace, she quickly noted the gonfalons that had been unfurled overnight, each one bearing the crest of the house that had ruled for the last few decades, since White Seoul's last toppling and subsequent conquering. She realized she’d been right; the Yangs still held power. The gonfalons had not been there the day before when she’d been detained, so she presumed they only went up as a signal to the public that something was about to happen. As such, she was unsurprised to find the courtyard full of denizens murmuring to one another. When they spied the king, a respectful hush rippled through them.

            “I appreciate your presence this morning,” the king said, his voice projecting well despite his naturally gentle tone. “I bear news both distressing and hopeful. I hope you will keep open hearts and minds as I relay them each to you.”

            The crowd was rapt, watching their king with undivided attention. Naturally, only a fraction of the city’s population could fit within the bordering wall, but it was clear that news of what was said would spread through the rest of the city like wildfire.

            “It is with a heavy heart that I must share with you the death of my cousin, the queen. As many of you know, the throne demands much from us, and her constitution could no longer bear the strain.”

            She fought to keep any expression off her face at his words. How could he lie so boldly, so smoothly, to his own people? So her crime was to be brushed aside, then? What of the people who had seen her do it, the guards who had apprehended her? Could they be expected to keep a secret? Would they be imprisoned? Killed? Would their blood be used to quench the earth?

            “As we grieve,” the king went on, “I ask only that you remember everything in this world meets its end. All things must end so that others may begin. In this way, I have glad tidings to share with you, as well.”

            The king reached for her hand, and she felt innately that something was about to go askew.

            “I feel a bit strange about announcing this now,” the king went on, a bashful hint to his voice, “but we will not be without a queen. I present to you a woman of grace and power equal to my own, a woman I am happy to call our queen not by blood, but by choice. Her decisiveness and tenacity will be a boon to our kingdom, and to our world.”

            And then, without any further explanation, he tugged her hand, causing both of them to turn and face each other. She was hardly able to meet eyes with him before his hands went to her waist and his mouth covered hers. Despite every instinct telling her to stiffen or even push him away, she knew what he was doing, the picture he was trying to paint. So she put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him back.

Behind closed doors, her cooperation was not so docile. He escorted her back to her wing, and she insisted he walk her all the way back to the sitting room adjacent to the bedroom. Being an apparent gentleman, he couldn’t refuse.

            She yanked him inside by the arm and shut the door quickly, pressing her back to it and blocking the exit. She looked at him with wild, incredulous eyes. He looked at her like he’d expected nothing else.

            “What the hell was any of that?” she demanded.

            “It was the path of least resistance.”

            “You couldn’t have warned me in advance?”

            “I only thought of it this morning, there wasn’t time.”

            “Did you really have to kiss me?”

            “It was the fastest and easiest way to convince them. It removes suspicion from you. Why would I kiss my cousin’s murderer?”

            “I don’t know, why would you?”

            “Because it would mean the most peaceful transference of power,” he said, frustration mounting. “If they knew what you did and didn't believe that it was either justified or sanctioned, mobs would be trying to execute you left and right. My cousin was polarizing at best. If I show myself to be unequivocally on your side, then recourse will be minimal. If they tear you to pieces, then where will I be? How would I be able to do what needs to be done if you’re dead and dismembered? You’re the best option I have right now, and I don’t have time to waste looking for another. I’d bleed myself dry trying to hold it back alone.”

            Effectively cowed, she murmured her only remaining objection. “You didn’t even tell me your name first.”

            His eyes widened in surprise, and he looked so boyish then that her heart nearly snapped in two. Ruler of a kingdom, holding back the tide of an encroaching dimension with his own blood, and he couldn’t have been any older than his early twenties. She wanted to take back all the anger that had been in her voice before, though she would never take back the action that had gotten them here.

            “Jeong In,” he said softly, a new side to his voice she hadn’t yet heard and felt she surely hadn’t earned. “I’m Yang Jeong In.”

            “Jeong In,” she said just as quietly, testing it out. She liked the shape of it in her mouth. “I’m not sorry for killing your cousin, but I am sorry for causing you, personally, so much trouble.”

            He looked entirely taken aback, his eyes blinking in conflicted confusion. She laughed quietly. “Don’t worry; I wouldn’t know how to respond to that, either.”

            His gaze darted away from her, as though his composure might be found on the far wall somewhere. When he met her eyes again, he seemed closer to the aloof monarch she expected to see.

            “We’ll eat together in a few hours. After that, I’ll start teaching you about the wards,” he said, a creeping tiredness at the edge of his voice. She nodded and moved away from the door so he could leave.

            “I . . . look forward to seeing you,” she said, feeling it imperative that they part on good terms. He glanced at her with surprise and wariness and something else she couldn’t identify.

            He nodded, holding his silence, and then was gone.

Kissing her had been a mistake. A rash, stupid mistake. He’d been telling it true when he’d given the official reason. He wanted their subjects to think they were in love, and therefore more easily accept her. A transference of the authority he already commanded onto her, his new queen.

            Strategically, the logic was sound. That hadn’t been the mistake. The mistake had been his assumption that he could remain personally unbiased. In other words, he’d liked it, and he couldn’t stop berating himself for it.

            While he could genuinely say that he would mourn his cousin’s death in his own way, she had without question been a cruel queen. He blamed her death as much on her as he did on the actual killer. They’d disagreed on how to deal with the wards. Jeong In had always chosen to use primarily his own blood, while his cousin had used a combination of her own and other people’s. Sometimes she wouldn’t even kill them outright, instead keeping them imprisoned as blood factories until they either figured out a way to off themselves or she grew bored of them. He wasn’t actually surprised that one of her potential hostages had finally fought back with enough force to end her.

            Beyond that, though, was Jeong In’s lack of time to invest in any meaningful companionship. He had a realm to run in all the normal ways, as well as defending it from an encroaching threat the average citizen didn’t even know about. All the public knew was that sometimes the water and magic dried up and made life inhospitable for everyone, and that blood was the only thing that could make it a little better. Jeong In knew the wards were a stopgap, but right now it was the best he could do, the best any of them had ever been able to do. It consumed his waking hours and oftentimes his sleeping ones, too, when night terrors came to plague him.

            He was tired, and he was lonely. A partnership of convenience wasn't his ideal situation, but it was a gamble he would eventually have to take, anyway. His parents' marriage had been one of convenience, and they'd at least grown to like each other. His cousin's parents, on the other hand, had hated each other until the day they died.

            Jeong In wouldn’t delude himself into thinking that he and his new queen would grow to love each other, but if they could grow familiar enough to tolerate each other’s presence, to let their guards down and at least be friendly . . .

            When Jeong In got back to his rooms he immediately put a pillow over his face, as though he could so easily put himself out of his own misery. Who was he kidding? He wanted so desperately to be held, to be loved, and now that he’d kissed her, he would be tormented indefinitely by the thought of it.

The longer she looked at the wards, the more she started to see the patterns. She began to understand why certain sigils went where they did, which parts of the equation had been applied most recently and which needed a new coat of blood.

            “The key, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, is the blood of the caster,” Jeong In was explaining. “We’re able to augment the material cost with the blood of others, as long as it’s both magical and human, but the caster’s own blood has to provide the base. It won’t bind otherwise. At least, not as effectively, which makes the total cost far worse in the end. Past generations attempted it.”

            “The base . . . Then, is that what the blood tithes are for?” she asked, looking away from the wall of sigils in front of her and to her left instead, toward him. He seemed oddly taken aback that she would choose to look at him, though he quickly recovered his composure.

            “Yes. We encourage the citizens to tithe whenever they feel they’re able. We try to compensate them where we can, though it doesn’t always guarantee participation. My cousin used to employ . . . less voluntary means, as some of our ancestors once did,” he said. She snorted. So that would have been her fate if she hadn't taken the late queen's life instead—her blood used like magical paint on a wall.

            “How often do we have to bleed for it?” she asked, letting her indignation pass without verbal acknowledgment.

            “Every couple of days now,” Jeong In said, a grim set to the line of his mouth. “It’s been worse recently.”

            “That explains why the world has felt so . . . brittle,” she said. Everything from the ground to the trees felt like it might crack in two any day. They’d been desperate for rain for some time.

            “Let me show you where we keep it,” Jeong In said, leading her back down the hall to an adjacent room. Within its walls, blood was stored like wine, an unsettling sight. The metallic smell made her stomach curdle.

            “Decades ago, the methods were more barbaric,” Jeong In sighed, nodding towards several storage chests. “Thankfully, we have syringes now. Makes things less gruesome, and the scarring less egregious.”

            “So you’ll have to draw my blood every couple of days?” she asked.

            “For the time being,” he answered. “For as long as the stores hold. When the supply starts to dwindle, the demand on you and me goes up.”

           He looked so incredibly tired as he said that. If she recalled the last upheaval correctly, he’d been king for four or five years now. He’d been offering his blood to their dying world since he’d been a teenager.

            “You’ve given a lot, haven’t you?” she asked softly. He looked at her warily, as though there might be a trap in her words, but his shoulders sagged a little as he gave in and answered.

            “Yes,” he said, his voice as quiet as hers had been. “I’ve never been able to bring myself to use the less savory methods. I’m only comfortable spilling my own blood.”

            She couldn’t resist the call to gamble then, stepping a little closer to him and taking his hand in hers. He looked stunned by the contact but didn’t pull away.

            “You’re a good man,” she said, and knew it in her heart to be true. He lowered his gaze, though whether it was out of shyness or sadness she couldn’t tell.

            “I’m trying,” he said, his voice barely there. She held his hand tighter.

The assassin came during the time when Jeong In and his queen were supposed to be hearing petitioners.

            They sat in their audience room, enthroned side by side, listening to tidings of the rest of the city and offering their help and guidance where they could. This had the double effect of allowing them a glimpse of how bad things were at large. The new queen, having lived outside most of her life, had a knack that Jeong In couldn’t quite replicate. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t leave the palace often, but it still stung him.

            Their next petitioner was a young woman probably around Jeong In’s age. She had a sweet face but wore a severe expression; Jeong In expected her to report another crop failure or perhaps an illness of livestock. His arm itched, knowing he’d have to bleed again later that night.

            Instead, the petitioner opened her mouth and said “Long live the queen.” Ice shot through Jeong In’s blood, and he made to get to his feet, but his queen was already moving. The next few seconds were a blur, and when Jeong In’s brain caught up, he realized what had happened.

            The assassin’s words had been a decoy. She spoke of the queen but flung a dagger end-over-end at Jeong In instead. His queen was faster, moving into the way to intercept. Rather than some act of sacrifice, though, a crackling ball of static electricity leapt to life between her palms, a field of polarity that pulled on the metal of the dagger and trapped it, holding it suspended between her hands.

            “Indeed,” the queen said, and returned the dagger to whence it had come, piercing the assassin’s chest. She crumpled to the floor, gasping. The queen separated her hands, the electricity following her left. She held her charged hand in front of her and the dagger came back, snapping into her grip.

            Their guards, who had all acted much slower, rushed forward now to detain the would-be assassin. “Staunch her bleeding,” the queen ordered. “I have both questions and consequences that I wish to bestow upon her.”

            As the guards moved to do as she commanded, clearing the perpetrator from the room, Jeong In finally finished processing what had happened. The whole event had taken less than twenty seconds, yet he was thoroughly shaken.

            His queen turned to him, and the battlemonger he expected to see didn’t materialize. For one traumatized instant he expected to see his cousin’s murderous intent on his queen’s face, but he found no such thing. Instead, she looked worried, her eyes darting all over him as though there might have been a second attack that she’d missed.

            “Jeong In, are you all right?” she asked, reaching for him with her free right hand. She touched his shoulder, his arm, and he nodded, coming back to himself, her touch grounding him.

            “I’m fine,” he said, feeling oddly short of breath. “You saved my life.” He wasn’t sure why he sounded so surprised.

            “Of course,” she said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You saved mine first.”

            He stared at her, stunned. It was an innocuous enough statement, especially in front of an audience that believed them to be a loving couple, but to him, the meaning felt double-edged. He couldn’t make himself answer.

            His queen, interpreting his hesitation as shock due to the attempt on his life, turned her attention back to the audience chamber. “We will retire early today, in light of what's happened. We will reconvene in two days’ time. You have our sincerest apologies,” she said. Her authoritative voice had gotten a lot better in the last few weeks. She no longer needed Jeong In to speak for her.

            She then turned and took Jeong In’s hand, and they retreated from the room together. She escorted him back to the king's wing in silence, her attention seemingly monopolized by getting him out of the open halls.

            The second they were behind closed doors she put the bloodied dagger down and turned to look at him, concern creasing her features.

            “You’re sure you’re all right? I didn’t detect any magic in the strike but if I missed something—”

            “Why did you do that?” Jeong In interrupted. She looked confused.

            “I don’t understand the question,” she said honestly. “Why wouldn’t I do that?”

            “Why did you act on my behalf? Why didn’t you trust me to handle it myself?”

            Jeong In knew what he was trying to ask, but the second the words left his mouth he knew he’d gone about it all wrong. His queen’s eyes narrowed at him, getting close to hateful in a way he hadn't witnessed since the day they’d first met.

            “Is this about your pride?” she snapped. “Are you upset because you think I made you look weak in front of your people? Because that wasn’t my intention, Your Majesty, and if it really means that much to you, I can assure you, it will never happen again.”

            Jeong In felt like he was going to be sick. It wasn’t often that he misspoke when it counted, but something about her made him think less with his brain and more with his heart, and his heart wasn’t nearly so experienced as his brain.

            “That’s not what I meant,” he said, instantly pleading. Her angry expression shifted slightly, letting confusion back in, but still, she looked so guarded, so closed to him, and it hurt. “I’m terrified,” he blurted. “I’m so incredibly scared that you’re going to think of me as burdensome. I’m so scared you’re going to resent me at best or get rid of me at worst.”

            Her expression changed again, this time wholly to shock. “Jeong In, what are you talking about?”

            “I’ve always been the weaker ruler,” he said quietly. “Everyone can see it. Even the assassin knew that. She knew to target me because I’m the weaker link. I can’t stop the encroachment. I can’t even defend myself from a run-of-the-mill assassination attempt. You can do better. You all can do so much better.”

            She moved closer to him, taking both of his hands in hers. “Jeong In, I’ve never thought that even once,” she said. “Not before today, and not just now in the audience room. I wasn’t thinking anything when I did what I did. Something deep inside me just . . . acted. I had to protect you because you matter to me, and I don’t want to have to do this alone. You said there has to be two, remember? We need each other. I need you at my side, Jeong In.”

            “Black Seoul’s encroachment has only gotten worse,” he murmured. “What if I’m the problem? What if I’m not strong enough? What if this would be easier for you with someone else?”

            “I don’t want someone else,” she said sternly, her hands moving to touch his jaw, ensuring he kept looking at her. “You think I need a stronger king? Then become him. We’ll work together. You told me that for the last couple of generations, the queen has been more militant than the king. So let’s change it. We’ll train your magic. We’ll work on your combat skills. I don’t want anyone else at my side. So let’s make you the best possible Yang Jeong In instead.”

            The words left him breathless. They were everything he wanted to hear, save for one very specific sentiment.

            It was enough. He told himself it was enough.

            He leaned down the slightest bit, resting his forehead to hers.

            “Let’s,” he agreed.

They discovered very quickly that Jeong In’s blood ran in raw power and all it lacked was refinement. His bloodline had always put their focus on the wards first and practical application second. Whether the individual specialized in barriers and wards was inconsequential; it was what they needed to do, so it was the only thing they were officially taught. Nobody had ever bothered to show Jeong In how to hone his magic for combat because that was not the rulers’ first priority. They had guards for that.

            They also discovered his magic had an affinity for ice, similar to the way his queen’s had an affinity for lightning. She taught him how to focus, how to never be without a weapon so long as there was blood in his veins. Finally, she taught him how to apply himself in combat.

            Every spar was friendly, of course, never meant to hurt either of them. The only intention was to sharpen Jeong In, to make him act more on instinct and less on thought and prediction. His queen had been doing this, surviving outside and defending her blood, much longer than he, and she made it look easy. As a result, Jeong In lost often in the beginning. He found he didn’t mind so much, though, because every spar improved him, and loss did not mean failure.

            That, and every spar brought them closer together in more ways than one.

            The only area he consistently outclassed her in was physical strength, but she could usually work out a way to outmaneuver him, either by evading his range or otherwise using her magic to get out of his grip. As he grew more accustomed to her fighting style and the bounds of his own magic, he found himself increasingly able to use his ice to absorb or divert her shocks, giving him more room to maneuver in close quarters with her. Time passed, and the odds evened, making each spar a toss-up that anyone could win.

            Today, she very nearly had the upper hand on him. He’d gotten her into close combat, which was usually his domain, but she'd been learning him, too, and answered his strength with flexibility and speed. She managed to put him off-balance, knocking him down, at which point she dove for him, wrestling one of his arms down and pinning it to the floor, counting on her weight to keep his legs down. That left him one arm, and that was all he needed.

            He twisted his fist into the back of her shirt and yanked. In a real fight, he probably would have gone for the hair, but he had no desire to hurt her. The end result was her pressure letting up on his other arm, giving him both hands back. He grabbed her forearms and pushed her down and to the side, gaining back the advantage as he rolled on top of her, pinning both her wrists down with one of his hands, his free forearm applying pressure to her collarbones. If this had been a real fight, he could have captured her by manacling her hands with ice, or, in a direr situation, slit her throat with a frozen blade.

            She panted beneath him, otherwise motionless, fully aware she was beaten. They had an agreement not to fight dirty with one another; they both understood what qualified as defeat and abided by it.

            “Well done,” she said, and Jeong In wondered if he imagined the way she looked over his body, stretched out above hers. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her wrists just yet.

            “Thanks,” he said, also trying to get his breath. As instinct retreated and conscious thought returned, getting air to stay in his lungs was a lot harder. His hips were digging into hers; she was so warm, her face flushed from exertion.

            “Do you want to let me up?” she asked softly, the barest teasing lilt to her voice.

            He swallowed hard and released her wrists. He stood, offering a hand to help her up. She took it, thanking him. They looked at each other for a little too long as they caught their breath, neither of them saying anything. Jeong In couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Most of his cognizance was wholly devoted to not reaching down to adjust the way his half-hard cock was uncomfortably situated in his pants for fear of calling attention to it.

            “Jeong In?” she said, a note of hesitation in her voice. It was incredibly unlike her.

            “Yes?" he answered.

            “We’re in this for life, right?” she asked. His heart skipped.

            “Yes,” he said again.

            “Which means we’re going to be together until one of us dies, right?” she asked next.

            “That’s generally how it works,” he said, his voice low and quiet, terrified of derailing whatever this was.

            “So it wouldn’t be strange if I asked you to fuck me, right? I mean, since we’re both here, and we’re going to be here for a long time, and it’s a little late to be bringing in new people,” she said, trying very hard to downplay what she was saying.

            It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t need to mean anything. She hadn’t said anything about feelings for him, but they were friends at least and cared about each other, and for Jeong In, right then, it was enough.

            It was a start, and it was enough.

            “It seems like something normal queens ask normal kings to do,” Jeong In said a little bashfully. He was practically drowning in his hope that something, anything about their relationship could be normal.

            “Then I’m asking,” she breathed, staring him in the face with undisguised avarice. “I’m begging. Jeong In, I need to be full so badly.”

            As embarrassing as it was, her words alone made him moan, his cock twitching in his pants. Her attention darted downward, and the motion repeated, his length straining visibly.

            “For how long?” she murmured.

            “What?” he asked, his head empty of everything other than trying to decide the proper order of operations to undress her.

            “How long have you wanted it?” she asked.

            “Months,” he answered honestly.

            “With me?” she asked, looking him in the eyes again.

            “Of course with you,” he answered in a tone of voice that made it known any other answer would have been absolutely ridiculous. “You’re the only one I want. Whenever I think about it, it’s with you.”

            “Me too,” she said.

            It still wasn’t a confession. This could still be nothing more than two bodies and the energy they needed to expel looking for the nearest available outlet.

            It would have to be enough. For right now, it was.

            “Take me back to my room,” she said, the only one of them thinking rationally. Jeong In would have taken her right there on the floor if she’d given him permission. He nodded, pausing to adjust his erection to make it less obvious. Hopefully no one would scrutinize them during the walk back to the queen’s wing.

            It wasn’t a long walk, but it felt like it took an hour. It was a fight to keep his gait normal, to not snatch up her hand and drag her to her bedroom. When they got to the queen’s wing, though, he did exactly that. His brain only started working again when they actually got to the bedroom.

            “Wait a minute—”

            “Don’t worry, that’s not the same bed,” she said. Jeong In blinked owlishly at her. “You were going to say it would be strange to fuck on your dead cousin’s old bed, and you would be correct. That’s not the same bed. I replaced everything that was in here. It felt haunted. Honestly, I hated you for a little while for making me stay in here at all.”

            “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. She smiled gently.

            “It’s all right, that was months ago. And like I said, I got rid of everything. I didn’t want to be wasteful, so most of the furnishings were switched with ones from the guest wing.”

            “You really thought of everything,” he said, gazing at her with such blatant affection that she had to see it. She smiled, the expression turning coy at the end.

            “Now, do you want to clean up first, or just . . . ?”

            “I can’t even think straight right now, and you’re actually considering putting another hurdle in my way?” he asked. She laughed, a bright, pure sound he wanted to hear every day for the rest of his life.

            “And here I thought I was being considerate by not asking you to interact with my sweat,” she said, leaving his side to approach her bed. He scoffed.

            “What’s the point when we’re just going to get sweaty again?” he asked. She grinned.

            “Ah, I like where this is going,” she said, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I would have been disappointed if you were a lazy lover.”

            He bit his lip. That last bit wasn’t necessarily an endearment, but it sure struck his heart as one.

            “Of course I’m not,” he said. “I want you to feel good. I want to make you happy.”

            Her eyes shone as she scooted up on the bed, making room for him. She opened her arms, and he went instantly to her, his mouth finding hers right away. He laid her back, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other balancing his weight on the bed so he wouldn’t crush her. Her hands, contrarily, were exploring his hard-won musculature through his clothes, honed throughout their training. He hadn’t exactly been a slouch before, but he was inarguably in the best shape of his life right now.

            “You have no idea how badly I wanted this to happen,” she murmured against his lips. “Every time your body pinned mine down I hoped it would lead to this.”

            “Of course I know how badly you wanted this,” Jeong In panted back. “I’ve wanted it just as much. I had to take care of myself so many times, wishing I could just do it with you instead.”

            “Now you can,” she purred, moving her mouth to his neck, trailing the sensitive skin with her lips. Jeong In shuddered. “And if you’re good, we can do it again, and again, and again . . .”

            “Fuck,” he hissed, his cock straining anew against his pants. “I want that so badly. I want you so badly. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go without you again after this.”

            She pulled her face away from his neck to look up at him, her expression so tender, like his words had truly moved her. Jeong In leaned down to kiss her again, his mouth eager and earnest on hers. She moaned sweetly, teasing him with her tongue, which he gratefully accepted. Their kisses turned sloppy, their lips damp when he finally pulled away to let her breathe.

            “I want to see you,” he said, trailing the line of her shirt with his hand, a flowing style halfway between a shirt and a dress. It was a wonder that she could fight as well as she did in it, and as good as she looked, he was desperate to get it off of her.

            She dropped her arms from his body, her posture fully open to him. “Go right ahead,” she said, her voice both teasing and eager. “Take off anything you’d like.”

            He started on her buttons immediately, opting to work from the bottom up. She wore a thin undershirt underneath, and she sat up, letting the outer shirt slide off her shoulders, and lifting her arms for Jeong In to relieve her of the undershirt. He obliged, leaving only her bandeau.

            He switched his attention to her pants, unbuttoning them and dragging them down her legs, leaving her in her undergarments. He took a moment to simply sit back on his heels and look, sighing deeply as he drank her in.

            “You’re so beautiful,” he said before he could stop himself. She smiled softly, moving close to him and kissing him again. It started out more chastely than the others but quickly devolved as she pushed him down, straddling his hips and grinding herself onto his still incredibly covered cock. His hands gripped her bare sides, pulling her closer, groaning into her mouth as the friction became unbearable.

            “If you don’t want me to come in my pants and ruin this entire thing, you might want to undress me, too,” he said. She sucked lightly on his lower lip as she pulled away, and he made a soft sound of pure need.

From the moment she’d first laid eyes on Jeong In, she’d thought he was handsome. The effect had only amplified as she got to know him, and now, after weeks upon weeks of watching him hone his body, her attraction to him had finally grown out of control.

            She had not thought he would respond in kind.

            As she undid his shirt, baring his chest and abdomen, she made a pathetic sound halfway between a moan and a whine. Jeong In watched her with rapt attention; the thought of making light of her desperation didn’t even seem to cross his mind. She urged him to sit up with her still in his lap so she could push the shirt all the way off. Her hands moved instantly to his strong arms. Trailing his skin with her fingers, she was unable to close her hands entirely around his upper arms even while they were relaxed.

            “It’s almost shameful,” she mused, a crooked smile on her face, “how much I’ve enjoyed losing to you while grappling.” He flushed.

            Her touch ascended, testing his sturdy shoulders next, and Jeong In, seemingly unable to passively be admired, moved forward to put his lips to her neck. She shivered.

            “I loved knowing that when we fought, you were holding back from your full strength so as not to hurt me,” she sighed.

            “I would never hurt you,” he said, his voice soft and sweet against her skin.

            “I know,” she said, “and I love that most of all.”

            She pushed him back down on the bed, horribly impatient, and he put up no resistance. She dragged her hands down the front of his body, memorizing every ridge of his torso, until she got to his waistband, at which point she promptly undid his pants. She moved out of the way just enough for him to remove them and was stunned as he pulled his pants and underwear down in one motion, his leaking cock springing free, making him sigh in relief.

            She whined, her core giving an insistent throb at the sight.

            “Fuck,” she said shakily. She moved closer to run her fingertips along the smooth skin, and his length instantly twitched to her touch. Despite the lust darkening his eyes, his face was still entirely docile, like he was in awe of her, eager to savor every moment. That gentility was in his fingers, too, when he slipped a hand inside her underwear.

            “You’re soaked,” he observed.

            “Why do you sound surprised?” she teased. He smiled, breathing a soft laugh.

            “I guess I just wanted you so badly, and I couldn’t fathom that you were being driven just as insane as I was,” he said. He slid two fingers inside her easily, her cunt already so warm and wet and greedy that he met no resistance.

            “Can you fathom it now?” she asked in a low voice, wrapping her hand around his shaft and pumping slowly. His eyes rolled up in his head for a moment while he groaned, a throb going through his cock.

            “Yes,” he answered as he pinned her with his gaze again. “Take me. Please.”

            She couldn’t refuse him. She slid her sticky panties off and tugged her bandeau over her head, straddling his hips properly this time. He left it entirely to her, his hands motionless on her hips, watching with single-minded attention as she fit his cockhead to her entrance and gradually sat down onto him. Jeong In’s groans accompanied the whole process. She closed her eyes once he was all the way inside, savoring the feeling of being so deeply full. When his cock throbbed once more, she felt it acutely inside her and squirmed. He groaned again, and she opened her eyes to look at him, only to find him already staring at her.

            She bit her lip, planting her hands on the bed on either side of his head, starting the delicious process of working her cunt over his cock. Her opening rhythm was slow, pulling all the way up to his tip before pushing slowly back down, stimulating all of him with every stroke. Even though it was only the beginning, Jeong In looked positively love-drunk beneath her. He didn’t interfere with her pace at all; from the look of him, he only kept his hands on her hips to ground himself to her body in every way he could.

            “You feel so good, Jeong In,” she praised, and was surprised to see him redden.

            “I’m glad,” he said, a bashful undertone to his voice that made her smile. She put her elbows down on the bed, finding his mouth with hers, speeding her pace a bit while they messily kissed, a desperate exchange of tongues as much as lips. Jeong In did start affecting her rhythm then, his hands gripping her hips more tightly, pushing her down harder and faster with every stroke.

            “Somebody’s excited,” she teased, pushing back up onto her hands to give herself a better angle. All he could manage was a moan in response as she picked up the pace he’d started to set, keeping every glide along his cock quick and sound.

            “You already knew I was excited,” he said breathlessly, one hand reaching for her chest now. She was delighted to find his hand was big enough to squeeze both breasts at the same time, drawing a sigh from her lips.

            “I did,” she crooned, “but it’s a wide gamut, you see. You seem downright desperate for it.”

            “Fuck,” he groaned, looking all the way down now, watching his cock disappear inside her over and over. “Is that really my fault? It’s not often that you get to experience something you’ve only dreamed about, only to have reality be better than the dream.”

            “It feels that good?” she asked. He nodded eagerly, his eyes finding hers again.

            “So good,” he answered, the subtle edge of a whine in his voice.

            “So good that you’ll come for me tonight?” she nudged.

            “Want to,” he gasped out. “Want to so bad.”

            “Me too,” she agreed, her thorough glides along his cock gradually turning into short bucks, doing everything she could to shove him inside her as hard and deep as possible. “I want to come all over that cock. I want to make such a mess of you.”

            The sound he made then was pure desperation, a moan and a whine in one, both hands on her hips again, his own hips twitching up into her, seeing her goal and aiding it any way he could.

            “I want that too,” he gasped. “Please come on me. Please use me to make yourself come.”

            “I will,” she huffed, her body wound so tight she could barely think straight. “I will, my sweet boy. I’ll give us both what we want. I’m so close.”

            It didn’t take long after that; even when she faltered, Jeong In’s frantic bucking from under her wouldn’t let up. It didn’t take any more than another fifteen seconds for her to fall apart, gasping and moaning as she came over his cock, the feeling euphoric while being so completely full.

            “Jeong In,” she whimpered, feeling it absolutely necessary that she say his name, that he know this orgasm was for him, “Jeong In, fuck.”

            “Yes, love,” he moaned, and the endearment made her heart skip. “That’s it. You feel so good.”

            She nodded deliriously. “I want more. I need more, Jeong In.”

            “How do you want it?” he asked, meeting her eyes, their bodies still for the moment, his hard cock still fully embedded in her.

            “Switch with me,” she said, and he nodded immediately. She pulled off his cock, whimpering as his length drew against her hypersensitive walls, then lay down, letting him climb over her. He still looked a little bewildered from feeling her climax on him.

            “This isn’t your first time, is it?” she asked, genuinely curious.

            “It isn’t,” he confirmed. She grinned, her innocent question giving way to the insurmountable urge to tease.

            “Good,” she said. “Then I won’t have to worry about you being unable to give me what I want.”

            He paused from where he had just lined his cockhead up with her entrance. “And what’s that, exactly?” he asked, his voice low, giving the impression of fraying self-control.

            “I want it as hard and as deep as you can give me,” she said. “I want you to leave nothing back. I want all of you.”

            For the second time that day, her words alone were enough to make him moan. This time, however, he also had a method of recourse, and that was to enter her all at once with a single sound thrust. She whined.

           “That’s a good start,” she hummed. It was he who put his elbows down on the bed now, his mouth seeking hers greedily while he thrust in and out of her, each one deep and hard, but not fast. She had no doubt he would get there, but right now, she understood his desire to savor, to commit this to memory forever. Her hands traveled all over him, exploring his back, his chest and abdomen, his thighs. She squeezed his ass, and when he broke the kiss, he was blushing again.

            “Jeong In,” she called softly, and he made himself look at her again. “Do you know that you’re gorgeous?”

            It didn’t do anything to make his blush go away. “I know that you think so,” he answered. She smiled gently and drew him down to kiss her again.

            For right now, that was enough.

            When he broke the kiss to concentrate on fucking her, though, she couldn’t make herself be quiet.

            “I think you’re beautiful, Jeong In. From the moment I first saw you, I thought you had been carved from stone, because a person so perfect surely couldn’t be real.”

            “Stop it,” he whined, though the quickening of his hips said he enjoyed the praise.

            “It’s like every single thing about you was crafted to make me crave you,” she went on, teasing his back with her nails. He made another sound that he tried desperately to trap behind his teeth. “Your voice is lovely. Your soul is so very gentle. And your cock fits my cunt perfectly.”

            He couldn’t trap the sound he made then, a strangled groan as he straightened up, grabbing her hips with his strong hands and pulling her down to meet every thrust of his hips. His every stroke was rough with desperation, and, from the tightness in his muscles, she knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

            “I only hope you feel it, too,” she added.

            “I do,” he gasped. “Fuck, you’re perfect for me.”

            “Perfect enough to wring your cock dry?”

            His eyes went wide, no longer deliriously chasing his high, his gaze locked with hers as she felt the first pump of his cum inside her.

            “Shit, I—”

            “Come here,” she all but demanded, and he laid his body out over hers, little bucks of his hips accompanying each pump of him as he emptied inside her, moaning through his high. She wrapped her arms around his torso, trailed kisses over his shoulder, and he shuddered, his panted breaths hot on her neck.

            When he finished, he pushed up onto his elbows, searching her face. He looked like he was experiencing a dozen emotions simultaneously.

            “I didn’t mean to come inside you,” he blurted out. “We didn’t talk about it beforehand and I have no idea if that was what you wanted. I’m so sorry.”

            “Did it feel good?” she asked him. He hesitated, then nodded, looking embarrassed. She trailed her fingertips along his cheek.

            “Then it’s all right,” she said. He was still for a moment, then nodded again. He buried his face back in her neck and stayed there for at least a whole minute.

He truly hadn’t meant to fill her up like that, yet he was so relieved he didn’t have to take it back. Truthfully, his orgasm had hit him so suddenly that he hadn’t even had enough time to pull out and come on her stomach like he’d originally intended.

            It was her fault, really, though he would never say those words out loud. Receiving only endearments or only dirty talk from her would have been enough to rattle his brains, but having to deal with both commingled like that? He’d never stood a chance. How could she offer him nearly every reassurance he’d ever craved, and then punctuate the sentiments with absolute filth?

            He wanted her to do it again. He wanted to do it all again.

            When he’d finally regained a reasonable amount of composure, he pushed himself off of her, removing his softening cock from her messy cunt. Gods, she looked so gorgeous, sticky with their aftermath.

            He must have stared for too long, because she asked, “See something you like?”

            He tore his eyes away from her heat to look her in the face, giving her a couple of tiny nods. “We look good together,” he said. She smiled, and he couldn’t help mirroring the expression.

            “Can we clean up together . . . ?” she asked softly, as though there was any world in which he would deny her that request, any world in which he would just leave her here alone after all that.

            “Of course,” he said. “We may as well take a bath together, since, as you pointed out earlier, we’re still sweaty from sparring.”

            Her smile turned to a full grin. “You kept your promise, too. We did get sweatier.”

            He laughed, helping her up from the bed. They went to the adjacent bathing room so he could draw them a bath. He’d always felt that the tubs in the royal suites were excessively sized, far too big for one person, but now he was glad of it.

            They soaked for a while, keeping close to one another, never more than a hand’s distance away, and most often less than that. They kept bumping shoulders and legs, and Jeong In wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

            After they’d washed and dressed, Jeong In told one of the attendants to bring their dinner to the queen’s rooms, and another to go to the king’s wing and bring back several sets of his clothes. He wasn’t ready to return to the world as it had been, nor did she seem in any hurry to see him go.

            He dressed in fresh clothes once they’d arrived, and they ate together in yet another of the adjoining rooms. She asked if he would stay the night with her, and he agreed instantly.

            As they wound down their evening and got ready for bed, Jeong In couldn’t keep her eyes off her. It was a struggle to keep his hands off her, which was monumental for him. He’d never before felt such a strong urge to be in constant casual contact with someone. When she asked if she had to wear clothes to bed, he laughed.

            “It’s your bed. Wear whatever you want, or don’t wear whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

            In the end, she climbed into bed almost completely naked, and Jeong In abandoned his shirt in kind. They lay facing one another, her head pillowed on his arm, when her expression turned thoughtful.

            “What is it?” he asked.

            “Who was king before you? Your father?”

            Jeong In shook his head. “No, my father has been gone for a while. It was my older brother.”

            “What happened to him . . . ?”

            “I’m sure by now you’ve felt just how oppressive Black Seoul is as we’ve worked to maintain the wards,” he began. She nodded. “That’s because Black Seoul isn’t just some mindless force trying to eat away at our world. It has a will of its own, and it hates being thwarted. For that, anytime it finds an opening, it seeks to punish us.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “My older brother started to lose his mind. The longer he worked on the wards, the more his sanity was eaten away. Eventually, he was no longer able to maintain the wards, so I took over. I’ve been lucky. So far the only things Black Seoul has done to me are suck the color out of my hair and give me nightmares.”

            She looked a little surprised and unsettled to hear that. He wondered, with equal stabs of worry and grief, what form Black Seoul’s vengeance would have on her.

            “That probably has more to do with the magic in your blood, I’d wager,” she said thoughtfully. “There have been ice savants who applied their talents as barrier masters. In the absence of formal training, your affinity probably manifested in the wards.”

          He frowned a little. Had his family been going about all this incorrectly for generations? Had they been stunting their own efficacy the entire time, measuring purely for power rather than affinity?

            She gently touched his face, as though she could smooth his expression. It worked.

            “Where is your brother now?”

            “I sent him away,” Jeong In said. “I thought the further he was from the veil and the wards, the more his mental state would improve. I sent my younger brother with him, partially to protect him, and partially to motivate myself. I didn’t want to let myself think for a second that I could fall back on him. I don’t want him to suffer.”

            “You’re a good man, Jeong In,” she murmured, moving closer and wrapping an arm around him.

            “You say that a lot,” he muttered, as though he could brush it away.

            “I mean it,” she said. “White Seoul couldn’t ask for a better king, and neither could I.”

            Jeong In held her tightly to him until he fell asleep. No terrors came for him that night.

#kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #jeongin smut #i.n smut #jeongin x oc #i.n x oc #jeongin oneshot #i.n oneshot

[finalfantasyandnerdiness]

The Story of Caius Ballad

Once a seeress receives her first vision, the Guardian will take her away from the tribe and leave civilization behind. From that moment on, taking care of her is his responsibility. No one will hear her prophecies but him, and no matter what she sees, neither of them will try to change history.

She’s rarely older than six when he takes her under his wing.

She’s rarely older than sixteen when he watches her die.

A retelling of Final Fantasy XIII-2 from Caius Ballad’s point of view, taken from a small essay that analyzes his role in the game and whether or not he can be considered an anti-villain. The full analysis: https://bit.ly/3LJa2Ck

The tale of the seeress is as old as humanity itself. Etro, the goddess of death, gave the first human ever created the gift of reincarnation. That gift, however, came with a ruthless side effect. The human–a girl who was always given the name Yeul–was reborn with the ability to see the future, and whenever she had a vision, her lifespan grew shorter. Because of Etro’s blessing, no incarnation of this girl ever reached adulthood. 

The seeresses were protected by Guardians—warriors from the Farseer tribe, turned into l’Cie to make sure they fulfilled their duty. Since there could only be one Guardian at a time, a challenger for the role had to kill the present one to take their place. The last warrior to ever become a Guardian was Caius. 

Like every Guardian before him, Caius protected the seeresses by using his powers as a l’Cie. He was the most powerful warrior in the tribe—but one day, that still wasn’t enough. The Farseers were attacked by enemies, and to protect Yeul, he chose to perform an incarnate summon—a skill that allowed him to become one with his Eidolon at the cost of his own life. Etro, touched by his selflessness and dedication, decided to bestow a blessing on him. When Caius awoke, he was no longer a l’Cie. Etro had infused her own heart into his body, providing him with unfathomable power and the gift of immortality. He would now be able to protect every incarnation of Yeul, from her first vision to her last, forever.

This marks the beginning of the story about Caius Ballad, the immortal Guardian who killed the goddess of death and broke time and fate itself in order to save one single soul.

*

Wherever there’s a Yeul, there’s always war and unrest. She’s hated, she’s feared, and there’s always people who want to abuse her and her gift. Caius can protect her from physical threats, but he can’t stop her suffering. She’s just a child, after all—a lonely child, shunned by those who should have loved her the most. To fulfill his role as a Guardian, Caius is forced to learn a skill that warriors are never taught: How to comfort a crying young girl.

The Farseer laws state that altering the future is forbidden, but there are always people who don’t follow the rules. After one of Yeul’s prophecies causes enough disorder to spark a civil war among the Farseers, a new tradition is born. Once a seeress receives her first vision, the Guardian will take her away from the tribe and leave civilization behind. From that moment on, taking care of her is his responsibility. No one will hear her prophecies but him, and no matter what she sees, neither of them will try to change history.

She’s rarely older than six when he takes her under his wing.

She’s rarely older than sixteen when he watches her die.

*

Whenever the future changes, Yeul receives a vision. The most fatal ones are caused by life-altering changes in the timeline—and more often than not, the culprit behind those changes is the goddess herself. The humans affected by her interventions call them miracles. They have no idea that the cost of those “miracles” is the life of a young girl.

*

Though the incarnations of Yeul all look the same, they all have different personalities. They’re more than just seeresses—they’re individual beings, all unique in their own way. Even as Caius’s own heart grows darker, he never stops protecting these girls—and he never stops mourning them.

Over and over, the cycle repeats itself. Even at her youngest, Yeul always knows what awaits them both at the end of their journey. She will die, and he will live.

*

As a warrior of the Farseer tribe, Caius once worshiped Etro. Never give up, because the goddess Etro watches always, and helps those who help themselves. Just like his peers, he used to think of the goddess’ gifts as blessings. Now, he sees them for what they truly are—curses. The goddess might not think of them as such, but then again, she doesn’t seem to think much at all. Being reborn over and over just to live as an outcast and die before reaching adulthood is not a blessing—and neither is immortality.

*

One day, Cocoon nearly crashes into Pulse. Etro once again decides to use her power to mindlessly change the course of history. She frees six crystalized l’Cie from their stasis, but her act of mercy creates a crack in the veil between the realms. A woman, one of the six, is dragged into Valhalla as chaos seeps into the mortal world, distorting time. Most humans barely notice the changes. Yeul keeps dying.

*

Three years after the fall of Cocoon, Caius and Yeul witness a man and a woman step through their first gate together. It was Yeul’s decision to come to the town called New Bodhum, insisting that she wanted to see the woman from her visions, Serah, in person. Caius doesn’t share her enthusiasm. Considering the number of visions Yeul has had of this woman, she’s bound to be a catalyst of changes in the timeline. Yeul is intrigued by the odd duo, though. The man looks like a Farseer warrior, but no one seems to have taught him the rules about altering history. Serah looks nothing like a woman from the tribe, but she still has the ability to see the future. Their very existence is an anomaly of its own.

By entering the Historia Crux, the two will inevitably create ripples in the timeline. Yeul holds no grudge against them. Caius does.

*

There’s a man, one of the six, who collaborates with the time travelers. He acts according to Noel and Serah’s advice, slowly adjusting the course of mankind to make sure that the “correct” timeline becomes reality. He never follows them on their journeys, though. No matter how hard he tries, the gates won’t open for him. Out of the six, he’s the only one who’s forced to make his way through time the way humans are supposed to. His life is a long, strenuous one-way street—just like Caius’.

*

Two centuries later, Caius finally catches up with the time travelers. The Yeul of this era, just like ones before her, has been plagued with visions of them. Caius has come to understand that he will one day know this man, Noel, but that doesn’t matter. They’ve caused enough death already with their careless changes of the future. Caius has a duty to protect the timeline, to protect Yeul, and they have to be punished for their crimes. It’s the law of the Farseers, and the duty of a Guardian.

The time travelers don’t go down easy, though. Noel is a skilled fighter, and Serah uses magic with the ease of a l’Cie. Monsters appear by their side, following their every command. After an unexpectedly challenging battle, Caius eventually gains the upper hand. He’s just about to give the warrior the punishment he deserves when Yeul tells him to stop. It’s too late, she says. The timeline has already changed. He sheathes his sword and kneels before her. He is her Guardian, her servant, and he follows her command. His battle with the time travelers is far from over, though. They will be punished for their sins.

*

The same Yeul, the same year, asks Caius to let her meet up with the time travelers alone. She says that she trusts them, and that she, too, wants them to find their “correct” timeline. Caius knows what will happen if she helps them, but he is her Guardian, and it’s not his place to stop her.

When he finds her in Augusta Tower, she’s already gone. This time, she was the one who changed history—and just like that, Caius lost another Yeul.

*

The nightmare continues. Every time Caius holds Yeul’s dead body in his arms, a part of him breaks. There’s not much left of him now—just boiling fury, and the knowledge that somehow, someday, he will put an end to all this. His hatred of the goddess has become a part of his very being, just like the cursed heart pounding in his chest.

*

700 years after the fall of Cocoon, Caius meets the final Yeul. The end of humanity is drawing near, and no more children will be born. He once made a promise that he would allow the last Yeul to live a normal life, and now, at the end of all things, he finally gets to see her happy. Everyone in the village knows who she is—what she is—but she still has friends. One of those friends is Noel Kreiss, the boy who will one day cause the death of countless of her earlier incarnations. The boy asks Caius to train him, and he agrees. The puzzle pieces are slowly falling into place. The full picture isn’t quite there yet, but a plan is brewing in the back of his mind. To free Yeul—all incarnations of her—the goddess would have to die. Etro’s heart beats within his chest, but his curse doesn’t allow him to destroy it himself. He already knows how powerful Noel will one day become. Maybe one day, this boy will actually be able to do the one thing Caius cannot do himself.

With Caius’s training, the boy grows into a warrior. He doesn’t understand the old ways, though—he wants the power of a Guardian, but doesn’t want to kill Caius. No matter how many times Caius tries to taunt him into it, Noel refuses to give in. He’s not strong enough. Not yet.

In the end, Caius abandons his original plan. This Noel, the one who has yet to travel space and time, doesn’t have it in him to kill. He is, however, strong enough to protect the final Yeul. On her fifteenth birthday, Caius leaves Yeul in Noel’s care, knowing that the next time he and his protégé meet, it won’t be on friendly terms.

Following the source of the power residing in his chest, he makes his way to Valhalla. It’s time for him to face the goddess himself.

*

In Valhalla, Caius finally figures everything out. He sees the timelines—every single one of them—and he knows what he has to do. He will make sure that the “correct” timeline that Serah and Noel have been chasing will never come to fruition. In a way, he already has. He engineered his own path through time to get to this exact place at this exact moment by creating the paradoxes. Cocoon will fall, and so will the new, manmade replacement, causing enough casualties to force open the gate to Valhalla. That’s when he’ll make sure Noel deals that final blow. That’s when the goddess will finally meet her end. Time and fate will cease to exist, and Yeul’s soul will finally be free. Whatever is left of him when the deed is done will look after her—every version of her—forever.

But first, he has to defeat Etro’s champion—the woman who lost her life in the mortal world when she was sucked into Valhalla, all thanks to one of Etro’s blessings.  

Caius can’t wait for the goddess to die.

*

500 years after the fall of Cocoon, on the day of its final descent, Caius once again faces Noel and Serah. As expected, Noel has gained the strength and skill of a true Guardian. Caius brings them to Valhalla, the place where the finale of his plan has to take place, and their fight continues. Noel defeats him, just like Caius hoped he would, but he stops before dealing the final blow. Just like the boy from the dying village, he refuses to kill.

It doesn’t matter, though. Every piece of Caius’ intricate puzzle has already fallen into place. This is where the goddess dies. This is where his long journey finally ends.

He grabs Noel’s sword and plunges it into his chest.

This is where Yeul’s soul is set free.

#ffxiii #ffxiii-2 #ff13 #ff13-2 #caius ballad #final fantasy xiii-2 #final fantasy 13-2 #fanfiction #serah farron #noel kreiss #paddra nsu yeul #I REPLAYED THE GAME AND IT DROVE ME SLIGHTLY NUTS JUST LIKE THE LAST TIME OKAY

[whentherewerebicycles]

hi jes!! i want to ask you about how you enjoyed the Rings of Power series? i just recently watched it and overall had such a good time!! i really really enjoyed seeing Middle-earth in its prime, before everything fell into the ruins we travel through in the Third Age, i felt like was so cool to see the world at its 'height' you know! i also felt like it had a kinship to the movies in that even though the stories were totally disconnected, i /felt/ like i was in the same world? i think it was mostly the dialogue, the language of the series was so lovely, it felt like Tolkien's words to me. anyway i am really just interested in how you felt when watching it! whether you also enjoyed it or it wasn't quite for you? i remember you said you'd watched it a few months back and i never chased you up about it because i wanted to watch it first lol

hi jamila!!! i miss you friend!!!!! i loved the rings of power as an experience even if i felt like sometimes the plotting and pacing needed some significant work. it was just such a joy to be reimmersed in middle earth and i thought every aspect of the set, cinematography, costuming, etc. was just perfect. i totally agree that it felt aesthetically and tonally consistent with the LOTR movies even though obviously so much has changed (in filmmaking etc) since then and the stories are quite different! i was really relieved by that - i was a bit afraid they would game-of-thrones it and make it significantly Darker and Edgier and Sexier but i felt like they really stayed true to the values of the world & the legacy of the films.

my favorite storylines were the elrond/durin friendship (i didn't totally buy the core conflict there but i LOVED their chemistry as friends/brothers) and the southlands humans storyline, which i thought was such an interesting meditation on like, a people living within the shadow of their ancestors' evil, trying to move beyond it while living with these ever-present reminders of the past (the elves' surveillance/occupation of their lands), and also trying to figure out if you are doomed by the choices others have made before you. it reminded me of that moment in FOTR where arwen tries to tell aragorn that he is not isildur and is not doomed to isildur's fate and aragon is like but doesn't his blood run in my veins? just like that question of, do we get to choose our destinies or are we instruments of fate, fooling ourselves into thinking we're different or stronger or better than the flawed people who came before us, only to discover that we are just as flawed and that our 'choices' are us enacting these storylines that were scripted for us long before we were born. i'm also SO intrigued to discover who the mysterious stranger from the sky is... my brother and i think it might be gandalf but it seems like they'd have to do some reworking of the storylines to make that work. idk! i'm excited to find out.

my handful of criticisms: it felt like they were often dragging out storylines a bit too long or taking us back and forth between storylines too much without much changing since the last time we'd visited those characters. i also think it's still suffering from a bit of a crisis about who its central characters are and what their central conflicts are. galadriel felt like a very interesting, complicated, fully formed character in the beginning episodes to me, but then started to fade a bit into the background as the episodes went on. i loved the southlands storyline characters (especially bronwyn and the elf whose name i forget) but i feel like i don't "know" bronwyn that well - she felt like a secondary character who got briefly elevated to primary character importance but without them doing much backstory work or much fleshing out of her as a person. i'll be interested to see if she has a role beyond the first season. numenor was beautiful to visit and the queen's visions of the destruction of numenor were extremely compelling but again the characters there felt a little two-dimensional to me at times.

i really enjoyed it as a whole though!! i do hope that things sort of pick up a bit in the next season but honestly i would watch four seasons of the slowest plot just to spend more time in middle earth!!

#i love what you said about seeing middle earth at its height too!! #i feel like it drives home a bit more how much the LOTR films are set in a dying world #or an ancient world full of ruins of a more vibrant world #the rings of power

[lize-mary]

What I'm going to do now is a little rant, which I never imagined myself doing, but the pain I'm feeling is so great that it needs to be out.

I've been in the Fate fandom since the first season premiered, but very quiet, not interacting much out of shyness and because I don't think I'm good at anything, not even writing, which I try, while all of you are very talented. Being a fan of the Winx cartoon since I was little, I had as my favorites Griffin, Musa and Flora, and having my attention called right in the first teaser per Farah, going to look on for the character on the internet, most of what I found were lies, but she seemed to me to be a mix between Griffin and Faragonda, drawing my attention even more, as teenagers didn't, I don't deny that I watched the series for her, enchanting me more than I thought possible, not only for the character but also for what it seemed to be happening between her and Silva, turning her into my all-time favorite character. When Dowling was attacked by Rosalind, her return seemed certain, they would not kill the important character that she was, the mentor and who at many times had seemed to be Bloom's biological mother, and even with the darker tone that was warned, she was one of the most powerful fairies, if not the most powerful, as Rosalind had spent 16 years imprisoned while she was free to develop her magic, and it was she who warned the others how dangerous Rosalind was, to turn her back like that without a good plan.

But that's not what happened and since the Friday of the premiere, I literally lost my ground, having my heart in pieces and cried for two hours, I still cry, because it seems like he comes back every moment of the day, it's such a pain big as if she were a real person, even though I know she's a character, and having seen others who were my favorites in other series die, but none destroyed the deepest inside me, that hurts my soul, and I didn't even had the courage to see the scene, knowing only from videos I find, not with it all complete. Maybe I feel that way because the moment that Farah arrived was so sad in my life, when I didn't have the will to live anymore, and she was so solar, amazing, powerful, motherly to the little girls, that in a way she became mine strength and joy to face the chaos, and yes I knew how wrong it was to get attached to a character like that, but I couldn't help it, and I didn't even realize it was on that level until I know about of scene.

The pain became greater when thinking about how she had so much to explore as a character, we don't know her story, we don't know anything about her, her death was in total lack of meaning for what was presented of her, for the couple that they put clues to about it in the official book, and yes I understand that this happened because of Emily in House of the Dragons, but without wanting to give too much spoiler, they could have waited a bit, delayed her return, not killed off one of the most beloved characters in the public, even being a series of teenagers, in all a prominent adult, being family or mentor, as she was to Bloom, needing both her guidance and Muse, whom she would help to make sense of her powers and what she could do catch up. For those reasons and my pain, which destroys me every day, I refuse to believe that this was the ultimate canon ending for Farah Dowling, she really didn't deserve it.

It took me so long to write about this, because with every line I tried, the tears came back, Farah Dowling created a void in my life that was impossible to overcome, and her ending made me lose absolutely everything

Don't mind me, I'm just a person suffering a lot because of Farah, and another one in love with this character, and for everything the fandom created about her, better than the series itself had offered, and it took me so long for that

#farah dowling #I need Farah alive #the Winx need Farah alive to guide them #in mourning for a character

[owilder]

Penguindrum is a story about a terminally ill young girl who, after dying, is granted a second chance at life by a possessed penguin hat that her brothers had purchased for her at the aquarium. In return for this gift of life, the brothers - and the penguins who now follow all three siblings - are tasked with retrieving the titular penguindrum - else the girl will die again.

This summary does not even scratch the surface of what actually transpires in these books. They are the novilisation of an anime; and, while I am familiar with anime luring you in with a somewhat weird premise and cute creatures only to hit you over the head with sad moments and dark themes - I still was unprepared for how bizarre and heavy this series gets.

The series deeply explores the themes of what it means to be family, which ties into its recurring theme of ‘invisible children’ - the children that society tends to ignore, overlook, or straight up toss aside. In this case, it focuses specifically on children whose parents perpetrated the 1995 Sarin Gas Attack, as well as several others who had some connection to one of the victims, and the relationships between all those affected by the attack.

This subject is especially well-handled since, despite never shying away from keeping the awfulness of the parents’ actions in perspective, the series also shows the parents, through flashbacks, as their children saw them - as kind, loving, protective parents. The lens of violence and fear through which the world views their parents is not that through which the children view them because their parents never showed them that side of themselves.

Another common theme is that of childhood trauma at the hands of their guardians and society. Each of the children presented here has suffered in some way, and series explores how that trauma has effected them, pushing some of them, in some cases, to violent extremes. Those extremes can be difficult to read on occasion, but are never romanticised or excused.

Admittedly, this does make the book a dismal read in parts. (Don’t even get me started on San-chan. As if the series wasn’t depressing enough, they had to throw that at me.) However, the lighter and more comedic moments are numerous and warmly welcomed. This does mean that the series periodically gives its reader tonal whiplash which, while I would ordinarily argue is a flaw, actually benefits the story, since the subject matter and themes are so heavy.

I appreciate that the terminally ill Himari is a fully developed character with dreams, doubts, and flaws, as opposed to being the archetypically “pure and perfect fragile child” whose character and illness exist solely to drive the plot forward. While she is introduced as pure, innocent, and childlike, it becomes apparent rather quickly that there is more to her than that and that those characteristics may be a mask she wears for her and her brothers’ sakes. As is typical of many anime, the characters appear simple on the surface only to have it revealed later that they have many deeper (and in this series, often darker) layers.

Of course, there are a few areas in which the series could have been improved. Noticeably in the second book, though more egregiously in the third, the penguins that are constantly present in the background, especially No. 1 and 2, are frequently omitted. While I would ordinarily assume this is intended to by symbolic in some way, I am aware that, in the anime, they’re still present, making their sudden omission feel as though Ikuhara just got bored with describing their background antics and gave up doing so. Similarly, it is a shame that the second penguin hat has almost zero bearing on the story beyond explaining a certain character’s motivation and actions. Himari’s relationship with hers is repeatedly depicted and explored, so it feels like wasted potential to not do so with the second hat even just once. Finally, while I’m aware that the suggested incest in the series is not actually incest (which is all I can say without spoiling anything), I believe the story suffers from its suggestion. The character dynamics work best and service the overall themes of the story best when they’re strictly familial. The story makes it clear that these characters see each other as family and, for that reason alone, will do anything for one another, and even hinting at any romantic interest between any of them cheapens that a little.

Overall, if you are not bothered by a heavy and, at times, outright heartbreaking story, then I recommend reading this series. It offers so much more than its premise promises.

#Books #Reading #Penguindrum #Kunihiko Ikuhara

[dyrewrites]

Weald and Wen - a peculiar passing

The fire crackled, bright and green, spitting burning embers onto Mitra’s wiggling toes as she stretched beside it. Her story long over, the grief of it yet gripped tight, and the little beastie slept deep but fitful on a log bed.

She had told of Mossheart and nostalgic sap, of how the kindly mushrooms stole their blood while they slept under its spell for longer turns than they could count. And, though she had thanked Mitra for informing her of the half cycle of time Sorrow lasted, it did little to soothe her aches.

But, it was not until Faerai told of how she woke, weak and alone. Of how she found Delgrij and ravaged the limbs of the Mossheart to make their escape that Mitra heard the cracks in her tale. More than heard, she felt them, jagged and sharp. With those cracks laid bare Mitra needed no further reason to hold her promise.

Mossheart were once frequent trading partners, fanatical for all the trinkets her brother draped her in, trinkets laced with her crystal and her blood. Yet, even as they accepted her shiny treasures without need for disguise, she only dealt with them in brighter lights…due to their far more accommodating keepers.

Mitra had no need to ask for more of the little beastie’s tale, or beg for reasons to Delgrij’s sour mood; she understood enough. Her friends had suffered scuffs no comfort could buff and so she insisted that Faerai nap, out in the relative safety of open air.

“I’s takes first guards,” Mitra had assured her, “ans burn any shroomies what’s rolls ways.”

Yet the little beastie’s whimpers suggested no comfort was found in sleep and Mitra flickered at the added sight of her shadow—its yellow eyes stuttering with each breath as it pooled darker on her chest.

As her rage began to boil, however, an outlet presented itself. Sweet and easy it gurgled threats through the tall grass, “Said we would have your sap.”

Ten in all shuffled–a full cluster–towards Faerai and Faerai alone. And Mitra grinned as she flared, burning up the spores that rushed after them.

Then she creaked, “Shiny shroomies digs us out,” and, heating her hands until they all but throbbed, she tittered, “Is alls bright ans burny ans itchin’ for stabs.” 

The Mossheart burbled and wriggled from her lunging fingers and burning kicks, but the largest of them slipped clear away. It made not a sound as it snuck beneath fresh clouds of spores and stabbed its tendrils into the sleeping Faerai.

But the little beastie yelped with the touch, despite the clinging sleep, and Mitra met the Mossheart’s cap with a solid kick. It gurgled and swatted as its sponge singed but the remembered droop in Delgrij’s eyes and stiffness of his shoulders flashed in Mitra’s thoughts and drove her for more. She bit into the Mossheart’s tendril, spilling the drops of blood it had stolen, and then she burned.

Hotter and hotter she burned, until the mushroom’s gurgling scream flowed as a wave through the others. They swarmed her then, reaching their thin limbs to grasp for wings, arms, legs and hair. But Mitra only flared brighter and brighter still, searing every tendril that touched until every Mossheart fled in smoking terror.

“Shroomies is scuffed flecks of dross,” Mitra teased their burnt and flailing tendrils, “nots so craggy without yous keepers!” But her bravado flickered as Faerai stirred and continued to flicker until she settled.

Only then did Mitra settle, did she breathe.

Then a new voice whispered, “Iode so sharp.”

Mitra searched in the grass, in the brush, up in the caps, but no Mossheart wriggled or tittered there.

“Not shroomies,” the voice called again, and its creak flickered Mitra faster, familiar as it was, so much like her own, “alls rolls way, but shiny Iode needs snuff her light or more than little shroomies will bite.”

The pale bulb jerked just beyond the bright of the fire, and Mitra snarled as five more ignited to shine around it, “Gormies.”

The Myr tittered their response, floating closer and she squeaked as the green of the firelight illuminated their surfaces. Dark, jagged and deeply scarred, her little forgeries lacked chunks of stonecover, their crystal gleaming all too dull beneath. Mitra dimmed then, at the ragged holes in some of their sockets, and how all of their cores, every one, smoldered near to black. 

“Iode and shiny friends are too smooth,” The least damaged of them warned, “and alls shimmer too bright in firelight. Must snuff or alls will shatter.”

“Iode?” Mitra scoffed, the reverent term slapping at her concern, “Since whens is Is Iode to craggy Gormies?”

They tittered again, as one, their meager cores brightening as the less damaged explained, “Wen has changed since we last peek our Iode. Oh, how scuffed are dull Gormies for daring to snatch Iode’s shinies and chase from our glow.”

“Dross is we, dross!” a one-armed Myr cracked, tittering as Mitra backed from her reaching hand.

“Iode is so warm and bright and oh so shiny,” creaked another, a single eye flickering in her dark face.

“Let us pile as one,” All six spoke together, circling tighter, “If only for a beat, let us hold some fleck of Iode’s gloss, a single glimmer of shiny glow—so warm, so bright.”

Mitra flared and they gasped. Then they moaned, keeping close to her light, their eyes closed as the intact one said, “We are so cold now in these stalks, beneath these spongy caps,” flitting closer to rest her icy hands on Mitra’s shoulders, she moaned at her heat, “So wet, so dark, so cold. Alls is crooked now. Light shines ins beastie’s paws, our light. It shimmers as shining gems and cracks and carves as we reach for snatch.”

“Those cracked beasties!” The one-eyed Myr added, “They hunt in low lights, chomping for our shine and these beasties are cracked deep. So empty are they now, their shiny eyes so dull, so cold.”

“Cold,” they repeated as one.

A One-armed Myr flickered then, presenting her fresh stump, the crystal still jagged and bleeding, “Their edges are sharp, teeth gleaming but bellies ever empty.”

Mitra flicked her eyes toward her beastie and found her and her shadow yet sleeping, fitful but undisturbed. Then, turning full around, sure to latch her eyes on each of the Myr, she dropped out of their floating circle and onto her rock.

The Myr followed, alighting on the moist moss around her and Mitra asked them, “How beasties chomp Gormies? Teeth too thin to breaks surface...”

“Theys holds tools!” A Myr with a missing leg cracked.

“Shh!” Mitra hissed, waving her voice down and motioning to her own beastie. 

“Beasties hold craggy weapons...and sharp tricks. Play with thoughts then stab and crack and snatch our cores for lamps,” the intact Myr explained and then she eyed Faerai, “Why Iode have beastie?”

Cutting her off as she made to poke the little beastie, Mitra pushed the intact Myr back toward the rock and said, “This beastie is me friend, nots cracked.” Then she sighed and motioned for the Myr to settle their dull flickers, “Is holds treats. Shiny treats Is share with Gormies ifs yous rolls way from me beastie.”

They creaked and bobbed, whispering careful and quiet to one another, but then one by one they nodded.

And Mitra’s throbbing core settled with each one of those nods before she guided them back to the rock.

The sight of the glittering black treats sent flashes through every core that spied them, burning them ever brighter as the crystal flecks cracked between their teeth and burnt up in their cores.

But the intact Myr had warnings still to share.

Around spilled bites she creaked, “Treats is shiny, but fire too bright. Snuffs now or Iode and friends peeks for selfs how cold and sharp beasties are.” 

Mitra sighed but motioned for the other Myr to join her as she dug handfuls of moss and dirt and tossed them onto the flames. Then, with the fire doused, the Myr crunched the last of their shared meal and huddled around their Iode in the center of the scorched pile of stalks and moss.

And despite the strangeness of their compassion, their stone burned too sweet on Mitra’s surface and she nuzzled closer, tighter. She soaked up the scratches and tinks of rock and crystal and soon the Myr’s warning of the Auru, the pain of the past turns, even the dread of what surely waited for them on the Rim melted.

#writeblr #snippet #novel #writing #nonhuman #darkfantasy #weald and wen #i clearly lied about not sharing more snips #it is important to know that myr do not talk like mitra #but they are still largely incomprehensible

[alexandrinav0605]

Battle

ONE-SHOT LINK AO3

When he found a 5-year-old on his front porch with a heavy British accent and a folder in her hand that said that she was his daughter, he didn’t believe it. When Mary came, by the time Penny was 11, he realized something. These 6 years he had taken care of his daughter, Mary saw him as nothing more than a babysitter.

or

Tony Stark loves his daughter, and she loves him. What will happen when after six years, Penny's long lost mother appears wanting her daughter back.

______________

Tony Stark was tired of his daughter’s mom's bullshit.

When he found a 5-year-old on his front porch with a heavy British accent and a folder in her hand that said that she was his daughter, he didn’t believe it. Even though the exams in the folder could be fake, there wasn’t any way to deny it, the girl looked just like him, but in a female way.

It was weird at the beginning; Penny was borderline depressed over her mother basically abandoning her, and she was smart, so she knew the reason her mother stopped loving her, as the toddler put it. Tony found the story months later, and he couldn’t believe it. What mother hates their child for being something they can’t control? He knew many mutant children were abandoned, but still.

With time, they grew close. Penny was just as smart as he was and even smarter than he was at her age. The girl was a little genius. He couldn’t understand how Mary could leave her. Then it happened…

When Mary came, by the time Penny was 11, he realized something. These 6 years he had taken care of his daughter, Mary saw him as nothing more than a babysitter. That’s when he told her that he wouldn’t renounce custody of Penny, and that he would fight if he had to. She didn’t take it kindly, but that was her problem. No judge would grant her custody, Tony had video evidence of Penny being left at his house without even knocking, but Mary didn’t give up, so the battle began.

On the first hearing she tried to use his past addiction and his absence during the first five years of Penny’s life. His lawyer then gave proof of him being sober since the moment he knew about Penny and said that he couldn’t be present in Penny’s life when the mother didn’t even bother to tell him.  Just like that, every argument Mary gave was destroyed by Tony’s lawyers. In the end the judge favoured Tony's side. Tony could go back to his daughter, and he allowed Mary to visit. He was happy.

That wouldn’t last long.

______________

Mary Fitzpatrick had to admit that all this was out of spite. She knew no sane judge would give her custody of Penny and, if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want it. Mary hated her daughter’s father and she wanted to see him suffer.

At the beginning she hoped to make an easy win, considering Tony’s past, but her past was even darker. After her second loss, she decided to call for help. If she played wisely, she would have what she wanted.

There was no way Director Fury would give her the resources to make Tony Stark mad. He could say anything he wanted, but SHIELD still needed Stark’s help, both in the hero stuff and the technology. Her plan was simple, Fury knew she had a daughter she left for work but didn’t know about the father. With that she just had to ask for the money to bribe the judge and do it before Fury found out that the man he is helping defeat in court is Tony Stark. The only way it could fail is if he decided to look deep into it, but besides that everything was all right.

“Listen Director, I had to leave my daughter for SHIELD and now the father doesn’t want to let me see her.”  The lie came out easy. If she felt guilty or not, that's another subject.

“All I’m asking is for you to help me get my daughter back. I left quickly and they see it as neglect. The judge won’t let me get custody of her, not without a bonus.” She finished and looked at Fury, waiting for an answer.

In the end he agreed, ordered a few agents to do the job and dismissed her.

Everything was going well.

______________

Everything was going not well.

Tony knew the moment he stepped in that something was wrong. For starters, the smug grin on Mary’s face. Then he saw something, the little nod from the judge to Mary. In that moment he knew Mary had bribed the judge.

“She did it.” He thought, as the judge made the verdict. She had won, he had one week to say goodbye to his little girl, his little spider. Visitation would be allowed only if Mary wanted, and he could see she wouldn’t have the same consideration he had. He barely felt when the judge dismissed them. He did feel Rhodey’s arms, making stand up. He saw how Rhodey tried to hold the tears, trying to be strong with Pepper and Happy for him. That didn’t matter, he was destroyed.  Mary was beside him talking.

“What a little money can do is amazing, isn’t it Stark? Fury was more than happy to help when I explained the situation to him.” Her audacity made Tony’s blood boil. How dare she? And Fury? Had he been a part of this? It didn’t matter, he was going to make everyone pay.

Pepper, Rhodey and Happy guide him to the car. Already inside, the car didn’t move. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen.

For Tony, being relatedly alone was enough to break. It was slow, his eyes began to fill with tears, he started trembling, and finally sobs started to come out of his mouth. He tried to hold them, but gave up, the pain was too much. Tears wouldn’t stop falling from his eyes. Never in his life had he felt this vulnerable. Pepper tried to hold him, tried to show her support.

“God, my little girl, she took away my little girl.” He looked at Rhodey.

“She gave money to the judge, that bastard let himself be bought. And Fury knew, the fucking pirate knew, he gave her the money.” Everyone was watching him, just as devastated as Tony.

“He is gonna pay for it.”

That was right, but for now, he was going to spend his last days with Penny.

______________

When her papa, aunt, and uncles arrived at the tower, she knew her mother had won.

Firstly, her papa had been crying a lot, it was obvious. Second, he had hugged her like there was no tomorrow, which there probably wasn’t.

“She won, didn’t she?” There was no need for him to answer that, but he nodded anyway.

“Everything will be all right, bambina. I will fix this.” She didn’t question it, she trusted him.

Her last week at the Tower was spent doing everything with her papa. The only time they separated was when they went to the bathroom. She slept in his room because she had nightmares. It was just like when she was little, when he would let her crawl into his bed after a bad dream. For moments she would allow herself to think that nothing was wrong, that she would stay with her papa forever. She knew her father was sad too, so they were sad together.

When the moment of her departure came, she wasn’t ready. She knew her mother wouldn’t allow her to contact her father, and he knew that too, apparently. Tony gave her a new phone that she was supposed to hide from her mother, he told her to call whenever she needed. At first, she thought her father was a little paranoid. Her mother wasn’t going to destroy her phone, was she? The answer to that question was yes, because she did, in front of her father, to deliver a message. She said her last goodbyes to her father, Aunt Pepper, Uncles Happy and Rhodey before leaving with her mother directly to the airport. Her father was going to fix this, he promised, and her papa never broke a promise.

If she saw tears falling out of her papa's eyes, she didn´t point it out, her own were falling after all.

______________

Tony felt that it was impossible to concentrate in the next Avengers meeting. Fury was talking and talking, but all he could think about was how he couldn’t see his daughter anymore because of eyepatch. He exploded when he started talking about Stark Technology and SHIELD.

“I’m gonna have to stop you there, eye patch, because Stark Industries will not be doing any agreements with SHIELD anymore.” Tony sounded unconcerned for all the others, but for Rhodey, who was sitting at his side, he sounded like the mad papa bear he was.

“Stark, what are you talking about? You can’t just decide that.” Obviously, it had to be Cap who talked. Tony didn’t really blame him. For everyone who didn’t know the whole story, which was just Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, his lawyer and Tony himself, this decision sounded like a tantrum on Tony’s part, but it wasn’t. Tony had every right to be mad.

“Oh, but I can, Rogers, this is my company, after all. I decide with whom I make deals and if we don’t continue those deals.” Because of course it was his decision, that he sometimes just didn’t care was another thing.

“Calm down, Steve, Pepper will clear this out.” Okay, that hurt a little, but was understandable. Pepper did manage the company, and their relationship, but she agreed with him. She is just as ready to punish Fury as he is. He told them that, without the punishing part.

Fury stopped everyone from commenting.

“Can we know what prompted this decision, Stark?” He was calm, but Tony knew he was mad. Stark Tech was especially important for SHIELD business.

“Does the name Mary Fitzpatrick make any bell ring, Fury?” And of course, the bell rang, the realization immediate. So was Natasha’s, who looked at him shocked. Obviously, she was, no one on the team knew about Penny. She probably knew of Fury’s favor towards Mary.

“Stark…” Tony had never seen Fury so nervous, he screwed up, and he knew it. He would lose an important investor.

“No, listen to me, Stark Industries will no longer have a contract with SHIELD, Stark Industries will not make any deals with SHIELD. The only thing I will talk about with any of you morons, is about Avengers’ business and count yourselves lucky I did not decide to make it worse.” Tony looked at Fury with all the hate he had for the man.

“You know what you did, and if you think that I will ever forget it or that this “tantrum” will pass you are completely wrong. Don’t try to do anything to fix this, there’s nothing you can do,” he then whispered to Fury, making it impossible for the others to hear. “Don’t fire her.” And with that he left the conference room.

______________

The next years were bearable. With the secret phone Penny was able to communicate with her father whenever her mother wasn’t around, which was most of the time. She wouldn’t lie, sometimes it was nice to not have your parents restricting you to things like curfews and other things, but it was lonely. She missed her life in New York, even if London was familiar and, at least to her, a better place to live compared to NY, she wanted her father back. It had only been 4 years, she was 16 now, yet of those 16 years she had only spent 7 with her dad, to her that seemed unfair.

She rarely saw her mother, as Mary insisted she called her, and when she saw her, all she heard were complaints. How she ruined her life, how she should have terminated the pregnancy and many other hurtful comments towards Penny. One of those times, Penny was in a mood. It had been 6 months since she came to London, and she simply wasn’t having a good day, and Mary was making it worse. So, when Mary began her hateful speech, Penny snapped.

“If you hated me so much, why couldn’t you leave me with dad? Why couldn’t you let us live our lives? We were so happy before you appeared. Honestly, Pepper was a much better mom than you ever were.”

Yes, that probably wasn’t her best moment or her best idea. Normally, she could take it, but it was a bad day. What she didn’t expect was for Mary to look at her, raise her hand and slap her so hard that she fell on the floor. Never in her life had she been hit. Her father had never used physical methods as punishment when she was little. It was weird when he scolded her, and when he did, he couldn’t go for long before he felt bad. Pepper then proceeded to scold him for being so soft with her.

She felt betrayed. She wanted to go back in time, be at the Tower or at the Malibu Mansion. She wanted to be able to go to her dad’s room where she could sleep if she was afraid. Her dad was always there for her and until then it had not really sunk in how far he was and how he really was gone.

She ran from her house. Later she would wonder why Mary didn’t follow, after all it was dark outside, but she realized she simply didn’t care. She stopped running when she reached the park that was 10 blocks away from her house. There were 2 parks that were closer, but she didn’t want her mother to find her, not that she tried, so she probably ran 10 blocks for nothing. Even considering that, the running was therapeutic. She just stood there for a moment debating between the grass and the swings, before heading for the swings. It was all alone, not even addicts were in sight.

After she had calmed down a little, she took out her phone. It wasn’t the one her mother bought her 6 months ago, the one that was constantly checked in order to avoid any communication with someone from New York or that could contact her father. No, that was the phone her dad had given her, when she was packing. It felt like a century ago, another life. A life where she was happy, a loved niece, but mostly, a loved daughter. Today wasn't a call day, and even if it were, she couldn’t call him at this hour.

Part of her was telling her it was ridiculous; in NY it was even earlier than in London and her father barely got any hours of sleep. With her gone, he probably never slept. Her Aunt and Uncles probably tried to make him, but the reality was that only Penny managed to make him sleep. Maybe he was sleeping, and she didn’t want to interrupt the little sleep he could get, but he did tell her to call him whenever she needed.

And she needed him now.

She called, it rang one time and he answered. They talk a lot. They also cried a lot. It was hard, even if she hasn’t spent most of her life with him, but with her mother, being apart was heart-breaking. They needed each other; they were each other's stake.

It was nice talking to someone that really understands her. For Penny, school was boring, and her dad got that, he got her.

And so, they talked.

Without them noticing in London it was 2:00 am, and they needed to hang up. They said their goodbyes and hung up. Penny hid the phone on her and began walking the 10 blocks home in silence. She was feeling better, but she knew nothing would be alright until she was with her dad, wherever the place was.

When she got home, it was dark, she heard the light snoring coming from her mother’s room, and she felt sad. It was around 10:00 that they fought, and she didn’t even worry a little. For a moment she considered just running, but she knew that would only cause problems for her dad, so she put on her pajamas and went to sleep.

Like that moment, there were many. Penny’s relationship with her mother was nothing but awful. They hated each other, deeply. Penny just couldn’t bring herself to forgive that woman and Mary couldn’t forgive Penny for being born. Yes, it didn’t make sense, but the day something that Mary did made sense, was the day Penny hated her dad, so never.

Right now, there was a battle going on in the living room. After years of separation and fighting, the judge had finally given full custody to Tony. Naturally, that made Mary go mad. The problem was that when Mary got made with Tony, Penny was the one affected. Thankfully, Penny was immune to her mom’s tactics. Mary had gone from shouting and cursing her to crying and weeping about how much she was going to miss her. After telling her to cut it out she ran to the same park from 4 years ago. It hadn’t changed, but now it was full of kids playing with their parents.

For a moment Penny felt bitter, she never got to enjoy the last years of her childhood, she was a teenager now. She quickly pushed away those thoughts; she was going back, and she needed to call her dad.

As always, the phone rang one time and he answered it.

“I can assume that Mary already told you.” The cheerful voice of her father came from the other side of the line.

“Between screaming and crying, yes, she told me. You know how dramatic she gets.” Her response was as cheerful as his, it was a happy day after all.

“I can’t believe she told you. I wanted to tell you.” Her response was a laugh, her father could also be dramatic at times. “But that doesn’t matter, what does is that you are going to live with me, and you won’t have to see her ever again.”

“That is a relief.” And it was, if Mary wanted Penny to love her, she could begin respecting her. “How are we gonna do this?”

Her father was going to fly from NY to London to pick her up next Friday with Rhodey, Pepper and Happy. From there they would stay for a week before heading back to NY. In her father’s words, “this family needs some vacations”. She couldn’t agree more with him.

Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

______________

Tony had almost lost hope about this day coming. He couldn’t find enough evidence concerning Mary’s bribe, (that wasn’t illegally obtained) and the fight was hard. Apparently, Mary could sue him all she wanted, 3 times total, but he couldn’t manage for the case to go to court. With Penny in England, the matter was from two countries, three if you counted Italy. Mary has British and Italian citizenships, while he had American and Italian citizenships, Penny got all of them. Now it was all a disaster, but he managed to do it. After years, Tony managed to get the case reopened and from then it was pretty straight forward. Mary didn’t have Fury’s support anymore, so a bribe, which was the only way she could win, was out of the question.

Thinking back now, it was all worth it. Nothing could go wrong.

If it wasn’t for nosy Rogers and his nosy group.

______________

He honestly thought that the Avengers were going to disappear. The “Civil War”, as the media calls it, was disastrous. The Rogues were on the loose for months until Tony managed to get them pardoned. That he helped them didn’t mean he liked them. For starters since his fight with Fury nothing was the same. He and Steve got into a shouting match. Most of the team support Cap, except Natasha. She was the only one that knew why he broke ties with Fury, being honest he didn’t tell her, but she was smart. Maybe Fury told her more deeply, but he didn’t care.

Back to the nosy Avengers, right now they were trying to get Tony to go to a group bounding or something.

“I already told you, Rogers, I have things to do.” And he did, his flight was supposed to depart in 30 minutes.

“You really think that we buy that, Tony? It is always the same. You make excuses that don’t really exist.” Okay, that was true. Tony always found an excuse to avoid going, but this time was real.

They argued for 15 more minutes, and Tony wasn’t having it. He needed to go now.

“I am supposed to be on my plane in 10, Rogers. If you want to do your precious team bonding, we can do it in the plane, but I recommend you pack for a week in less than 5 minutes because I am not sending you back until I do what I must do.” To be fair, Tony thought that he would back down and let him go, so when dear Cap agreed and ordered everyone to pack and meet them in 5, he was surprised.

Put it on Rogers to ruin his incredibly happy day.

So, there he was, with Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey, as planned, and as not planned, with Rogers, Wilson, Romanoff, Barton, Barnes, and Bruce, who was literally dragged here by the others.

“Where are we going?” Tony answered with the truth, he was already tired only thinking that he will have to endure a 7-hour flight with them. “And what are you going to do in London?” That was none of his business and Tony told him that.

They spend the rest of the flight in silence.

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

Steve could understand why Tony wouldn’t trust them. He just wanted to fix that, so when Tony offered to take them with him, he quickly packed his stuff. Now he was regretting it. Maybe he should leave Tony and let him come to them. Anyways, they were already in London, driving to Lord knows where. Pepper, Rhodey, Tony and Happy seem to know where they are going.

Happy, who for once wasn’t driving, probably because he found it hard to drive from the other side, seemed nervous. The others did too, just not as much as Happy, that normally was stoic, which made Steve wonder what they were doing.

They arrived at a nice neighbourhood. There were children playing on the streets and in the park. When they finally stopped, they did it in front of a two-story house. Compared with the others this one seems almost forgotten. It wasn’t ugly, but it lacked the feeling of a home. For a moment he wondered if it was Tony’s, and he barely came, as it seemed abandoned. Steve was going to ask when he saw the moving boxes in front of the house. In big, almost unnecessarily, black letters, the word 'FITZPATRICK' was written.

“Fitzpatrick?” It sounded familiar, but he could remember when he had heard it.

Recognition flashed through Natasha’s face, as if she knew something, which she probably did. She turned her face so she could see Tony.

“Really? Her? Why do you want to see her, Tony?” She knew something. Steve was going to ask when Tony interrupted him.

“I don’t want to see her. I will just pick someone up.” Someone? Who was so important that Tony came all the way to London in order to pick them up?

“No way.” Natasha apparently knew who that someone was. Again, before Steve could ask what the hell was going on, someone interrupted him.

“Come on, Tones, you waited enough.” That was Rhodey. Steve couldn’t be more confused. What had Tony waited for? Who were they picking up? Who was Fitzpatrick? Bruce had an idea.

“Fitzpatrick? Like in Mary Fitzpatrick? Wasn’t Fitzpatrick someone you mentioned that time you fought with Fury?” Now it was coming back to Steve.

Tony didn’t answer any of the questions. He looked at Pepper and she gave him a smile and an encouraging push. Apparently, that was enough to do whatever he wanted to do because he climbed down from the car with Happy, Rhodey and Pepper behind. They didn’t ask the others to stay so they also exited the car.

Before Tony could knock, a teenager came out. She seemed around 15 and had a strange look on her face. Steve thought that it could be because they were the Avengers, but she had barely looked at them, just Tony. She looked familiar, and Steve was hating how he found everything, yet he never knew what it was. He was confused, and he wasn’t the only one.

Then it happened.

“Papa.” The girl murmured, as if she couldn’t believe it. Before Steve could process the word that came out of her mouth, the girl had thrown herself to Tony’s arms. He hugged her, hard, like he was expecting her to turn into dust. Both of them were crying. After a moment they separated, she then turned to Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. She hugged all of them, and they also let some tears fall.

The others were shocked, because that girl just called Tony “papa”, and they have never seen their teammate crying that much. The only one that seemed to be no surprised was Natasha, as always.

Before they asked themselves, Tony answered all their doubts. “Guys, this is my daughter, her name is Penny.” he was smiling, but then he looked at them seriously. “If any of you do anything to her, I will personally kill you.”

No one laughed, it didn’t seem like a joke.

Then they heard a snore. They turned to a door and there was a woman. She seemed bitter, and disgusted.

“Fitzpatrick.” Tony acknowledged her. “I would say that it is a pleasure to see you, but it really isn’t.” The girl, Penny, laughed. Now that Steve knew that truth, he noticed how similar she was to Tony. Apparently, they also had the same sense of humor.

Who Steve thought was Mary, ignored him, looking, and talking to Penny. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your mother, Penelope?” She had an accent and to Steve she seemed like a bitch.

Penny didn’t seem comfortable with her. Steve wondered if the fact that Penny seemed to love her father so much, but apparently lived with her, was the reason for the obvious fracture in their relationship.

Regardless of that, Penny walked to her, just as Happy began carrying the many bags to the car.

Penny’s voice was cold when she said, “You were the worst mother I could have asked for.” Mary didn’t take that kindly; it was obvious by her body language.

“And you are an ungrateful brat.” Tony took a step when the comment was spoken, but Penny stopped him.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, Mary.” So, it was Mary. “I wish you had let us live peacefully. I just want to know why you did it.” To Steve, it seemed that Penny had many things to say, even if he didn’t know the whole story. “You didn’t want me, why did you have to fight for me?”

Mary didn’t answer. While the two women look at each other, Tony moves closer to them.

“Mary asked SHIELD for a loan to bribe a judge,” Oh, boy, Steve knew where this was going. “The judge,” Tony continued. “Of the custody battle. Fury didn’t know the custody was against me when she asked for it, but I was so mad. I didn’t realize until it was too late for me to give him something.” Tony the custody was against me laughed, ironically. “I would have given him everything I had if I could make it possible for me to take back these 4 years.”

Steve now understood everything, why Tony fought with Fury, why Natasha knew, why even Pepper supported him. He could see the 3 three of them loved Penny.

Penny came back, a little sad, but she smiled when she looked at her father.

“Are you ready, Bambina?” Steve had never seen Tony this happy. “I know you said you would give me a tour, but the jet lag is killing us.” She snorted.

“You are getting old.” She said teasingly.

Tony acted offended. In the end all of them got in the car, Penny never leaving her father’s side, in the direction of the hotel.

______________

And with his daughter in his arms, Tony couldn’t think of anything else he needed.

#peter parker #penny parker #tony stark #female peter parker #peterparkeristonystarkbiologicalchild #Avengers #spiderman #spider man #MCU #marvel #custody #custody battle

[feralphoenix]

SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS: The Mechanics of the Infection

welcome back to feral’s essay tag where the hot takes don’t stop from keep being hot!

this particular meta has a Lot of citations from canon, and my plan is to have them as actual footnotes in the dreamwidth mirror when that goes up (as i always crosspost my meta there in case my layout text is too small for any folks accessing these from computer and not mobile).

CONTENT WARNING FOR TONIGHT’S PROGRAM: This essay contains discussion of body horror, cancer, and many of the darker aspects of Hallownest’s society.

ALSO, AS USUAL: I read Hollow Knight as anti-colonialist fiction and all of my meta approaches the text from that angle. This essay is strongly critical of the Pale King and Hallownest, and affords sympathy to pre-Hallownest societies & native characters, including Radiance. If you come from a Christian cultural background (regardless of whether you currently practice the religion or not), some of the concepts I am going to discuss may be challenging for you. Please be responsible in your choice whether to engage with this content, and also, be respectful here or wherever else you’re discussing this essay. Thanks.

SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS: The Mechanics of the Infection

If you’ve ever looked through my Hollow Knight tags, you have probably seen me joke about the Infection like a lot, usually along the lines of Radiance casting Level 9 Inflict Tang on Hallownest, or “(radi voice) the End of EVA will continue until you Let My People Go” or some such. In addition to being some of the most beautiful body horror I’ve yet seen in fiction, its appearance also makes it a veritable meme factory.

It is also something that inspires a lot of very wild theorizing amongst fans, because canon tells us WHY the Infection exists but doesn’t ever directly explain WHAT it is. To name just a few of the guesses I’ve seen, people have posited that it could be some sort of pupa juice, or maybe some type of parasitic fungus.

I have my own guess, though, and it’s based on hints we can find in-game. I would like to share it with the class today, so let’s take a quick look through the sauce, starting with what we already know!

WHY

We learn why the Infection happened from Seer and Moss Prophet, and this is also summed up more directly in Team Cherry’s dev notes attached to Seer.

The Pale King wanted to be the only god of light in the crater,* so he tried to kill Radiance by thralling her children - attracting the moths with his light and making them forget about her,** assimilating them into Hallownest. Radiance survived because some moths still remembered and tried to preserve what they could of their original culture,*** and eventually she attempted to reassert her existence and communicate with the bugs of the crater by speaking to them through their dreams. However, the Pale King realized what was happening and ordered his worshippers to shut her out.****

Radiance did not give up, and continued to broadcast her message through dreams. This unstoppable force VS immovable object conflict could not last forever - something eventually had to give, and what gave was the mortals.***** The Infection was an accident that Radiance did not initially intend, but presumably chose to weaponize after the fact as a way to attempt to pressure TPK into releasing the moths and leaving her alone (or, barring that, a way to thoroughly destroy his kingdom at the very least).

SOURCES:

* “No blazing kin. Only one light shall shine against the dark.” - Lore tablet hidden beside the Pale King’s throne in the White Palace.

** “None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters.” - Seer’s 1200 Essence dialogue.

*** “But the memories of that ancient light still lingered, hush whispers of faith... Until all of Hallownest began to dream of that forgotten light.” - Seer’s 2400 Essence dialogue.

**** “The King and the bugs of hallownest resisted this memory/power and it started to manifest as the infection.” - from Team Cherry’s dev notes attached to Seer.

***** “Light is life, beaming, pure, brilliant. To stifle that light is to suppress nature. Nature suppressed distorts, plagues us.” - Moss Prophet's dialogue.

HOW

Now that we’ve recapped why the Infection exists, let’s examine the process of how the Infection works. We see some examples of this with various characters in-game, and the Hunter also shares his observations of the Infection’s mechanics in his commentary on the Infected Crossroads entries.

Since we’ll be bringing up the Hunter's Journal here, I want to first examine three entries to establish its dual authorship and how trustworthy it is: The Shade’s entry, the Lightseed’s, and Radiance’s.

We know that the bottom section of the Hunter’s Journal is the Hunter’s personal notes on each creature because the game itself tells us so. So who writes the notes on top that give a brief explanation of what each creature is? It’s a common fan theory that Ghost writes these, which I believe is indeed the case.

First let’s look at the Shade, which is automatically unlocked when we receive the Hunter's Journal in-game regardless of whether we have died and fought the Shade or not. Mechanically this is important because if the Shade weren’t unlocked by default it would be impossible to attain the Hunter achievements without dying at least once - this would REALLY suck for anybody who likes to suffer enough to try to complete the journal in Steel Soul mode.

The Shade’s entry reads:

Echo of a previous life. Defeat it to retake its power and become whole.

-

Each of us leaves an imprint of something when we die. A stain on the world. I don’t know how much longer this kingdom can bear the weight of so many past lives...

Notice that the top text knows exactly what the Shade is and how it works. In story terms, this would imply that Ghost has died and come back enough pre-game to understand the mechanics of how their revivals work.

The Lightseed’s entry reads:

A single-celled organism, completely infected. Scurries about simple-mindedly.

-

Strange air has been seeping down from above for years. Some of the air became liquid, and some of that liquid became flesh, and some of that flesh came to life. I don’t know what to make of it.

In this entry, the top text assumes that Lightseeds are a Lifeseed-like creature that has been infected, and the Hunter’s notes reveal that this is incorrect and the Lightseeds were actually born from the Infection itself. From this we learn that the top text isn’t omniscient and can be mistaken: It’s written from a limited perspective.

And here’s Radi’s entry:

The light,* forgotten.

-

The plague, the infection, the madness that haunts the corpses of Hallownest... the light that screams out from the eyes of this dead Kingdom. What is the source? I suppose mere mortals like myself will never understand.

Here, the top text has information that the Hunter doesn’t, and which only a handful of bugs are privy to anymore.

From these three examples, I believe it is safe to say that Ghost is in fact the author of the journal entries’ top segments.

It’s important to remember that the observations these characters make can be not wholly correct, and I’ll bring that up when I believe it to be relevant, but for now let’s build a picture of how a case of the Infection generally progresses by looking at the Hunter’s commentary on Infected Crossroads enemies, and at a handful of characters whose Infection we directly observe: Bretta, Sly, Myla, and Moss Prophet.

The Hunter describes the broad arc of Infection progression in the Violent Husk's entry: “First [the bugs of Hallownest] fell into deep slumber, then they awoke with broken minds, and then their bodies started to deform...”

The two NPCs who we can save from becoming Infected, Bretta and Sly, are initially found emitting orange fog and mumbling to themselves. In Bretta’s case, when listened to, she initially talks about being left behind and forgotten** as she assumes that all people will treat her this way even though she craves affection and attention; Dream Nailed either before or after being listened to, she mentions a “shining figure”.***

Meanwhile, Sly speaks about his pupil Oro and someone named Esmy, and when his symptoms subside he identifies that he was led to the Crossroads village ruins by a dream.****

Listening to Bretta and Sly completely brings them back to reality, after which they leave the underground area entirely to return to Dirtmouth. However, when the player encounters Myla after defeating Soul Master and obtaining Descending Dive, listening to her does not cause any change in her condition despite that she is not yet hostile.

During these encounters, Bretta is surrounded by orange fog, Sly is surrounded by orange fog and his eyes have also begun to turn orange, and Myla's eyes are glowing but there is no fog around her. So, we can deduce that for as long as the orange fog is present, a bug may still be awoken and cured (Bretta and Sly both show no signs of relapse over the course of the game), but once the fog disappears the bug can no longer be saved by external means.

The "deformation" that the Hunter mentions in the Violent Husk entry refers to the large blobs of Infection that develop on the bodies of creatures that have been infected for a long period of time. We observe these upon the Infected Crossroads enemies, as well as on Hollow and the Moss Prophet. We also see that these Infection tumors can eventually kill bugs once they grow too large and impede bodily functions, just like real cancer: The Moss Prophet and Mossy Vagabonds are all discovered in this state after the Crossroads become infected, as are the Husk Guards in the Crossroads.

So, the progression we can see here is that bugs become infected through their dreams, and while they can initially be woken, if left alone they will fall into too deep a sleep to wake up. Some time after this they will start to move around again but will be hostile to any creatures that are not infected. And, if left in this state for a very long period of time, they will develop tumorous growths which are potentially fatal.

Potentially fatal. This is an interesting contradiction to a basic assumption that most players - and even Ghost and the Hunter - seem to hold about the Infection: That is, that the Infection functions like a pop-culture zombie plague, and infected creatures are all undead (reanimated dead things that can't be killed); thus that the enemies that respawn after resting or going offscreen are the same ones that Ghost just murdered, and have simply been reanimated by the Infection once again.

But infected creatures can die of the Infection. What’s more, bosses and unique instances of generic enemies (such as Myla and the Moss Knight at the pier of Unn’s lake) do not respawn once killed. And it’s definitely not that Ghost killed them that counts: Traitor Lord dies whether Ghost fights him solo or whether Cloth is brought along, in which case she always gets the final blow. This creates the argument that the respawning generics are NOT in fact the same individuals reanimated over and over, but different individuals of the same enemy class, and that their different respawn rates speak to how plentiful those creatures are - small animals respawning faster because a new one will arrive in the recently killed one’s territory sooner, for instance.

Ghost and the Hunter both seem to assume that infected enemies are all undead - many creatures are identified as “husks” or “the remains of [whatever specific bug]” in the Hunter's Journal. But we’ve already established that sometimes Ghost and the Hunter are wrong.

So, if infected creatures aren’t undead, then what are they?

SOURCES:

* I find it a very interesting tidbit of characterization for Ghost that they refer to Radiance as the Light, as native bugs do, rather than calling her the Old Light, as Hallownest bugs did. This has some fascinating implications for where Ghost feels their allegiances to be, but that's neither here nor there right now lol.

** “Ohhh... please... don’t leave me behind! You... forgot about me...? I knew you would... everyone always forgets about me...” - Bretta’s dialogue, Fungal Wastes encounter

*** “...Shining figure...So bright...” - Bretta’s Dream Nail dialogue, Fungal Wastes encounter

**** “...ugghh, Oro you oaf.... You wield your nail... like a club... ...Esmy... how much deeper do we have to go... Oh! What?! Who are you?! ...I see. This old village. What a strange dream, to have led me down here! If you hadn’t found me, I don’t think I would’ve ever woken.” - Sly’s dialogue, Crossroads village encounter

WHAT

In a move very on-brand for Hollow Knight, there’s actually a line from Seer that gives the whole game away - and I mean this incredibly literally, she declares her loyalty to Radiance and says Fuck Hallownest and also hints at what she hopes for from Ghost all in two breaths!! - except that most players are never going to see this line because Seer only says this if you screw up platforming in the Forgotten Dream and yeet yourself off a platform before picking up the Dream Nail.

I do not doubt that I could wring a whole essay out of this one line by itself (and Seer deserves an essay from me so maybe I will), but today the part we’re concerned with is the third line of this dialogue, i.e. how she describes the Dream Nail to Ghost: “The power to wake this world from its slumber[.]”

Its slumber.

The Infection doesn’t only spread through dreams. It is a dream.

To put it in a more meta/video game mechanics sort of way, the Infection is a status ailment. Sleep exists as a common status ailment in RPGs, strategy games, and even some adventure games and platformers. Usually the status ailment of sleep is a mild nuisance that wears off after time, when a character is struck, or if the requisite curative is used; in comparison the Infection is Sleep But Bass Boosted. Appropriate, for a glorified status ailment that’s inflicted by the literal actual god of dreams.

The Infection can only be cured in the very early stages. Once an infected creature has fallen into a coma, there’s no longer any hope of a third party breaking the curse... and also, infected creatures sleepwalk. Violently.

This may also provide an explanation for why mummified bugs in the catacombs have been infected, too: If they were freshly dead and their lingering spirit was still attached enough to their corpses, and that lingering spirit retained enough of a mind to dream...

Aside from those mummified bugs, though, I believe it likely that most if not all of the infected enemies in-game are very, very much alive.

Beyond all the dialogue and lore crumbs pointing to the Infection simply being a cursed sleep, this explanation makes the most sense when thinking about Radiance as a character. She is the literal embodiment of dreams as well as the sun, so inflicting eternal slumber with bonus malignant sleepwalking is a natural extension of her power and a way to use it offensively without being directly violent.

(I've written about this at length elsewhere, but signs point to Radiance having been a pacifist prior to the Pale King’s invasion. Short version: The Moth Tribe were pacifists and Radiance was the center of their culture so it would be odd if she were an exception; she is incapable of inflicting any physical harm whatsoever in a game where lack of contact damage from an active enemy indicates helplessness and such enemies always flee from Ghost unless they have a tool they can use to fight with; her behavior in her boss battles indicates a lack of combat experience, and her nail-generating spells seem to be based on Hollow’s abilities. Real-life adult moths cannot fight - they defend themselves with flight, camouflage, mimicry, and I’m Poisonous So Fuck Off coloring.)

Now, I don’t want to downplay the harm the Infection causes - it doesn’t have to turn bugs into literal undead zombies to be devastating. What we can glean of Hallownest’s ruins suggests that as a state it was heavily dependent on labor to run its industry, so incapacitating the laborers would have turned the whole country on its head, especially because those laborers cannot be woken. The Infection also created an intense atmosphere of terror throughout Hallownest as bugs tried to discover ways to cure it or at least protect themselves. And as the Hunter observes,* because of how the Infection is caused, the harder you try to block Radiance out, the worse the Infection will get.

(A sidebar: Interestingly, the Infection's progress seems to be very slow when a creature willingly accepts it; Moss Prophet has Infection tumors when met but doesn’t die of them until the Crossroads is infected, though many Crossroads bugs are found dead of tumors immediately. Traitor Lord and his followers opted in to the Infection long ago, but Traitor Lord is still at the “orange fog” stage and could theoretically be cured, if he wanted to be. Both Traitor Lord and Moss Prophet are still completely lucid, too.)

Radiance may not have committed any direct violence against Hallownest, but the Infection does incite violence: infected creatures become hostile to and will attack the uninfected. And as we’ve discussed, the Infection itself can become fatal once it’s progressed far enough for tumorous growths to form.

A god smiting the shit out of her people’s oppressors by nonviolently but thoroughly disrupting their kingdom, Especially if that kingdom is a genocidal colonialist slave state,** as a Let My People Go And Leave Me Alone :) ultimatum is not unreasonable. (And Moss Prophet tells us point-blank that literally just listening to Radiance in the first place would have prevented the Infection before it began!) But despite that Hallownest as an institution is unambiguously awful, Hallownest bugs victimized by their own state (such as the maggot slaves and other menial workers) probably saw much less benefit from Hallownest’s genocides than the rich and nobility, and likely deserved the smiting way less than said rich and nobility.

Meanwhile Hallownest’s neighbors - all native nations who are just as much victims of TPK’s bullshit as the Moth Tribe - did not deserve to get caught up in the smiting at all.

Lateral harm in Hollow Knight is another topic that deserves its own essay - and more than that, lots of in-depth conversation! - but, again, that’s not the topic we want to focus on today. I do want to make it clear, though, that infected creatures being alive and theoretically wakeable if the curse should end doesn’t suddenly mean the Infection was actually no big deal. If you want your jimmies rustled, try Dream Nailing enemies that pull from the generic Dream Nail dialogue pool: They are on some level aware that they’re dreaming and can’t wake.***

Clues that the Infection is literally a dream are littered all over the game, from Elderbug’s initial dialogue**** to the name of ending 3, Dream No More - not only named that because that’s the ending where Ghost sacrifices Radiance’s life as well as their own to end Hollow’s suffering rather than only sacrificing their freedom.

Some of what Bardoon and Moss Prophet have to say about the Infection is suggestive of the nature of this dream, though. Moss Prophet appeals to their audience to find unity through the Infection,***** and Bardoon also remarks on this, though he cautions that this comes at the cost of being reduced to instinct.****** Dreaming does tend to come hand in hand with lack of inhibition and suggestibility, but I’m more interested in what Moss Prophet and Bardoon mean by unity, since infected creatures’ thoughts are different depending on what they are and what they were already doing while awake.

There's less specific hard evidence for this aside from how we can observe that Infection blobs are connected to Radiance, transmitting her heartbeat and birthing the Lightseeds, her unintended creations. But given that those blobs do originate from Infection fluid according to the Hunter... Radiance is not just the embodiment of dreams but the heart of THE Dream. So could the Infection be a forcible pseudo-immersion into that capital-D Dream, the Dream Realm itself?

Whether my hunch here is right or not, I can’t in good faith end this essay without bringing all y’all’s attention to absolutely my favorite bit of The Infection Is A Dream foreshadowing: The way multiple parties mention the fact that the Infection smells and tastes sweet.*******

You know... it’s sweet... it’s a sweet dream... get it.........

And now that you can no longer unsee that brilliantly awful pun, I think I'll see myself out!

SOURCES:

* “The infection that swept through Hallownest so long ago... they say that the harder you struggled against it, the more it consumed you.” - Hunter’s commentary, Slobbering Husk Hunter’s Journal entry.

** I’m referring, of course, to the maggots. See: “Weakest members of the kingdom of Hallownest. Generally looked down upon and forced to do menial labour.” (Ghost’s commentary) and “If they try to bargain for their life, just ignore them. They have nothing to offer.” (Hunter’s commentary) from the Maggot Hunter's Journal entry as well as False Knight/Failed Champion’s backstory. Remember also that maggots are the larval form of flies like Sly (you’ll see the resemblance if you compare Sly’s features to the maggot siblings’), meaning Hallownest employs child slavery. In more cheerful news Sly’s backstory must be absolutely goddamn wild.

*** “I’m not...Dead..” “Am I...Sleeping?” “I can’t....Wake up...” - Dream Nail dialogue from generic Hallownest bugs (Wandering Husk, Leaping Husk, Horned Husk, Husk Bully, Husk Warrior) and from God Tamer for some reason

**** “Perhaps dreams aren't such great things after all...” - Elderbug’s initial dialogue

***** “Embrace light! Achieve union!” - Moss Prophet’s dialogue

****** “Theirs is a different kind of unity. Rejection of the Wyrm’s attempt at order. I resist the light’s allure. Union it may offer, but also a mind bereft of thought... To instinct alone a bug is reduced...Hrrm...” - Bardoon’s dialogue (Listen four times, not counting other dialogue flags)

******* “A thick orange mist fills these walking corpses. It has a sweet, sickly taste to it. I find it foul. After you kill these creatures, I suggest you do not eat them.” - Hunter’s commentary, Husk Bully Hunter’s Journal entry, just for one example.

#hollow knight #hollow knight spoilers #hollow knight meta #long post under cut - #essay

[nonbinaryhatboxghost]

So, I finished watching Star Trek: Voyager. (spoilers throughout)

I started watching the show a couple of years ago, and I remember being impressed at how solid its pilot was. Star Trek shows (in my experience) have a history of starting out a bit rough before figuring themselves out, and it felt like Voyager had a pretty solid identity figured out right from the get-go.

But while I have loved watching the show as a whole, it felt like it went through multiple identity crises along the way.

It’s frustrating because the show contains the best depiction of the weight of being in the captain’s chair out of any Star Trek story I have ever seen. Janeway herself is just a great character in general, but getting moments like the finale of “Tuvix” or literally any scene in “Year of Hell” go much further in depicting the effect of leadership on our lead character than one would expect in a Trek show.

Over the course of my viewing of Voyager, I noticed that I tended to respond more to darker episodes than others. “Meld”, in which Tuvok mind-melds with a serial killer Betazoid played by the great Brad Dourif, is one example. “Mortal Coil”, in which Neelix experiences a crisis of faith after a death experience, is another favorite. And while I am indeed a sucker for a quality dark Trek story, the main reason that I believe I favored these kinds of episodes was because they felt like they had an impact on the characters.

Most of the blockbuster two-parters over the course of the show didn’t really stick with me, despite some very fun premises. And it’s because, with the exception of “Scorpion”, most of these two-parters tended to resolve in a way that completely undid any semblance of consequence on future episodes.

The most egregious example of this is the ending of “Year of Hell”, a two-parter that began development as a premise for the entirety of Season 4, but was rejected by producer Rick Berman and downgraded to two-parter instead. While I had pacing issues with the episodes due to sensing the abbreviated nature of a lot of the subplots, I overall really liked the story and seeing the crew of Voyager having to endure so much. Not because I wanted to see them suffer, but because I wanted to see stories that conveyed their journey home would have an impact on them. So when “Year of Hell” ends with a timeline reset that completely eradicates all of the events of the two-parter, I felt cheated. Because it is a cheat.

When Voyager did a similar time travel reset for their 100th episode, “Timeless”, in which a future Chakotay and Harry pull some shenanigans to prevent Voyager from crashing into an ice planet, that story successfully had its cake and ate it by having our present-day crew be aware of the future Harry and Chakotay’s actions. The episode ends with a shocked present-day Harry watching a video message from his now-dead future self.

When I finally got around to the series finale, “Endgame”, all I knew to expect was another time travel story. I have no issues with time travel in Star Trek. It’s possibly overused, but I never get tired of it because more often than not, Trek knows how to find the fun in whichever story they use that device in. I enjoyed the first half of “Endgame” and its depiction of our crew’s future lives back on Earth. I liked seeing Admiral Janeway go rogue in order to time travel back to the Voyager crew that we’ve been following throughout most of the show. And as purposely-but-still-strangely jarring as it was to see Admiral Janeway try to prioritize Captain Janeway and the crew over defeating the Borg, I really liked their scenes together as well as Admiral Janeway’s confrontation, defeat, and death with the Borg Queen. (who is suddenly played by Alice Krige again in the finale after being played by Susanna Thompson in previous Voyager episodes. I was happy to see her but a bit confused after the show seemed to indicate that Thompson was meant to be Borg Queen 2.0, only to have our original Queen from First Contact return)

Then the last few minutes happen. The Borg are quickly dispatched, Voyager makes it back to the Alpha Quadrant, and the show ends with them blowing up a Borg Sphere and saying “hello” to the Starfleet ships waiting for them. There is barely any time devoted to the impact of arriving home on the crew because it happens so suddenly. And as much as Mulgrew does to sell “Set a course for home” as the final line... it falls flat.

I suspect that the reasoning for the abrupt ending is that the writers thought depicting the future older versions of the crew on Earth would serve as closure for our cast of characters. But it doesn’t work because the whole premise of the finale centers on Admiral Janeway undoing that future so she can save the lives of Seven of Nine and Chakotay, who are dead in this depicted future.

During one of Admiral and Captain Janeways’ scenes together, they are debating whether to use the Borg space tunnels to get home faster, or if they should destroy the tunnels to keep the Borg from being able to get around space. Then Captain Janeway proposes that there’s a way for them to “have our cake and eat it, too.”

Despite the convenience of this final plot, one that is explicitly identified as such by that line, the finale could still have stuck the landing if we saw or felt the impact of arriving home on the Voyager crew that we have been following for seven seasons. As messy as the show sometimes got, and as underserved as some characters became after the show introduced Seven of Nine (which confuses me because the writers did such a good initial job of utilizing that character to create new dynamics with the cast), this cast had earned and deserved a depiction of their arrival home. And we never got that.

Tom Paris is my least favorite character on the show. It has nothing to do with Robert Duncan McNeill’s performance, it’s just that the character never felt particularly developed beyond his initial characterization for me. His best material, in my opinion, was in “Lineage” when Tom comforts and assures B’Elanna that he will never leave her and that he wants their children to inherit their mother’s Klingon heritage. But one thread throughout the course of the show that seemed so straightforward of a payoff to save for the finale was Tom’s reunion with his father.

Tom talks frequently over the course of the show about his strained relationship with his Admiral dad. Then once Voyager is able to establish contact with the Alpha Quadrant (another development I had mixed feelings on because it diminishes the premise of the show by minimizing the ship’s isolation), we get introduced to Admiral Paris and he becomes a recurring character. We even get a moment where he expresses his love for Tom and how much he misses him. And while we do see Tom’s reaction to this, this huge character moment isn’t a direct interaction between these two characters. So naturally you would assume that their reunion, and likely reconciliation as father and son, would be shown once Voyager returns to Earth in the finale.

But that doesn’t happen.

Even though Admiral Paris is in the finale, that reunion setup is just not payed off in any way.

We also don’t get to see Tuvok reunited with his family.

Or Seven of Nine’s first impressions of Earth or her meeting any of her relatives.

Or any indication of what our former Maquis crewmembers’ reception by Starfleet would be.

Strangely, the only satisfying character sendoff of the show is Neelix, who in an earlier episode leaves to be with a colony of his own people and serve as Starfleet’s Delta Quadrant ambassador. His goodbye to the crew is a beautifully simple scene of him walking to his ship and passing by the entire crew, who are assembled along the hallway to see him off. And we even get a payoff to his friendship with Tuvok when Tuvok briefly taps his toes as a farewell gesture to Neelix.

Neelix started as the show’s most grating character, irritatingly cheerful and toxically possessive of Kes. By the time the show ended, he had become a well-rounded and essential presence. His traumas of losing his faith and family, as well as his insecurities around his role in the crew, were well developed over the course of the show.

In a way, the finale was a perfect example of the show. The premise was solid, and the cast was totally game and performed it to the best of their ability. But when it came down to conveying any impact that this episode, or the series in its entirety, would have on its characters... the finale just sidesteps that and ends abruptly.

Janeway, Seven of Nine, Chakotay, B’Elanna, Tuvok, Harry, Tom, Kes, and The Doctor all deserved better.

#kyle rants #star trek: voyager #star trek voyager #star trek

[robbyrobinson]

My Favorite Sad Songs

1) Remember You (Adventure Time): Really, one thing I liked about Adventure Time was how it depicted mental illnesses with the best episode of the show IMO being "I Remember You" where we learn that the Ice King looked after Marceline while he was still suffering from the effects of the crown's powers. Calls to mind those who have aging parents or grandparents who develop Alzheimer's. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBm6nemYcNA

2) Remember Me and You Will Be Okay (Coco & Helluva Boss): Both are placed together because of similar themes: a father who promises to always be with their child even if they cannot physically be there. Remember Me is especially sad once you find out that Ernesto stole that song from Hector and perverted it. The latter song is sweet, but also sad with Stolas lamenting on how he thought he was bold and that love would be fun, but it becomes beautiful if you hear the extended version of the song (The Day that you arrived/the Sun went black/An artificial night/you came and stole away the light/And put it in your eyes). It's just cute how in awe he is of his daughter. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KP_XkN2v7OM and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74xgpkEC7cA

3) You Are Not Alone/Little Susie (History: Past, Present, and Future Book 1): Michael Jackson when alive was a polarizing figure, but these two songs in particular hit more emotional sides. The first song, much like number 2, is a promise to always be there to comfort you even if they were far away. Little Susie, the darker of the two, is a morbid tale about someone killing Little Susie, the girl with the tune, who sings in the daytime at noon. No one cared for the poor girl. Worse is the idea that the song was based on a true story...not that I can actually find the source citing it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAyKJAtDNCw and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVrNK870EzA

4) Naraku no Hana (Higurashi: When They Cry): The opening theme for the second season of the anime. It is very emotional. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHr3g1c11yw

5) My Heart Will Go On (Titanic): Pretty much just someone showing strength that they can go on in life after the death of someone they cherished. The one they love still exists, however, even though they live as memories in their hearts. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3gK_2XdjOdY

6) You Will Be Found (Dear Evan Hansen): Again a whole "you are not alone" aesthetic, but anyone who knew someone who took their own lives or has suicidal tendencies, the song comes off as very relatable and assuring that you do matter. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSfH2AuhXfw

7) My Soul, Your Beats! (Angel Beats): Again, a very emotional song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIFV8UUs1-c

8) Kimi ni Furete (Bloom into You): From a yuri I watched, the opening theme. It is very, very touching. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kRdNI4XAxRw

9) Worthless (The Brave Little Toaster): A depressing song befitting a dark animated film. It is all about the discarded automobiles going over their lives and what they did prior to getting trashed and can only look forward to their ends. One green truck even drives itself on the conveyor belt leading to the crusher. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UfsEj7AOGI

10) Question (Assassination Classroom): What makes the song pretty tragic is that, from what I have gathered, the song is really about the one who inspired Koro-sensei to teach. Also, the song that played during Koro-sensei's death scene is also saddening. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oq_4hj9RrGg

11) Drift Away (Steven Universe: The Movie): Spinel is a pretty good villain with her jester attire and all. This one is basically her recounting how she remembered playing with Pink Diamond/Rose Quartz who had her stay in this one spot. Spinel hoped she'd come back...but she never did, and she remained there waiting and waiting as the thousands of years go by.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRS2ciJ5rOk

12) Daddy (Korn): The story behind it is that the singer was violated by a family friend for a long time and when he tried to tell his parents about his abuse, they did not believe him. The song then dives into the poor guy raging and sobbing wildly as he lets his emotions flow. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=me6krWVfN8I

#korn #songs #adventure time #i remember you #the brave little toaster #tblt #higurashi #higurashi: when they cry #michael jackson #little susie #dear evan hansen #helluva boss #you will be okay #pixar #steven universe #spinel #assassination classroom #bloom into you #anime

[missroserose]

Fic Writer Question Meme!

Thanks for the tag, @venhedish—I love stuff like this! I'd apologize in advance for how long this is likely to be, but I suspect we share that tendency, haha.

How many works do you have on AO3?

20 total. I've been publishing there since late 2018, so about three years now. That sounds right for me—I'm way too perfectionist to ever be prolific.

What's your total AO3 word count?

125,744! Apparently it takes me three years to write a novel's worth of words I feel are worth publishing...which also sounds right.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Three, primarily: The Lost Boys, Stranger Things, and Supernatural. Mostly Stranger Things, since I was pretty enmeshed in the Harringrove community for about a year and a half, though these days I'm hanging out more with the SPN crowd. We'll see if that translates to more fics.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1.) Sunflower (524) 2.) Quickly, look away (506) 3.) We'll Become Who We Meant To Be (383) 4.) Too Young To Fall In Love (333) 5.) When the Waters Start to Cross (283)

First, what's not surprising: all are Stranger Things/Harringrove works. I'm a little surprised to see that "Sunflower" had edged out "Quickly" as my most-kudosed story, for years it was the other way around—but maybe that's actually not that surprising—part of the reason I haven't been as active in the fandom is that I really love the darker and more complex renditions of Billy Hargrove's character (a la "Quickly") and since S3 aired it seems like the fashion has moved more towards more lighthearted fluff (a la "Sunflower"). Still, both are pretty undemanding smut, so it makes sense that they're on top; similarly, I'm not surprised to see "Too Young To Fall In Love" in the top five either.

I am a little surprised that "We'll Become Who We Meant To Be" is #3—it's honestly close to genfic, there's only the tiniest moment of hinted-at attraction in there. I'm not mad about it, I honestly feel like it's one of my better efforts; on the other hand, "Wake Me Up" was in a similar vein and it's close to the bottom. I guess there's just no telling what's going to catch on...in fairness, a 25K outsider POV novella is a much bigger ask than a 3K short story.

Honestly, I'm probably most surprised at "When the Waters Start to Cross" cracking the top five—it's a 52K+ WIP and a profoundly complex atmospheric existential horror/romance, which is, like, five strikes against it. I'm not mad about it, though—I love that fic, even if it is a huge time and energy suck, and it definitely contains some of my best writing.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! Sometimes it takes me a while, but I genuinely appreciate people taking the time to leave feedback (even if it's just a string of emoji!). And every once in a while I'll get really thoughtful or incisive comments that spark whole conversations—that's one of the best reasons to write fic!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Hmm...to be honest, nothing immediately comes to mind; I love angst but tend to want it to serve a purpose, i.e. it gets a character closer to who they want to be. So most of my endings are at least hopeful. *checks list* It looks like probably my angstiest ending is also my first fic posted, "Blue Masquerade". Poor Michael.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've written?

I don't currently write crossovers; I wouldn't rule it out, but frankly I haven't come across an idea that appeals to me. Waaaaaay back in the mists of time I had a Daria/Harry Potter crossover that I was actually pretty proud of, but I got about as far as getting them to Hogwarts and then kinda ran out of ideas, so I never posted it.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not that I can think of? I'm not big-time enough to get hate, haha. Worst I ever got was some rando asking for top or bottom tags, which I just ignored, and one person on "We'll Become" who was like "I don't like this pairing but you did a good job", which kinda had me like ??? thanks, I guess? I did get one comment on "Quickly, look away" from someone who felt like it was in a different headspace from the fic I wrote it as a sequel to, but that didn't strike me as hate, it's a perfectly fair observation.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

So first off, yes, and second...I recently came across this great Garth Greenwell quote that really gets at what I'm trying to do when I write smut:

In America in 2019 we are inundated with images of bodies to an absolutely unprecedented degree—images of eroticized bodies, images of sexual bodies; the Internet makes all our fantasies visible, and it trains us in new fantasies. And yet it also seems to me that our culture suffers from a dearth of representations of embodiedness, by which I mean of bodies imbued with consciousness. I’m not at all antiporn, but sometimes pornography (maybe especially Internet pornography, with its arms race of extremity) seems to want to evacuate bodies of personhood, to present them as objects. I think literature is the best technology we have for representing consciousness, and so I think there’s a kind of intervention that literature can perform in representing sex explicitly: it can reclaim the sexual body as a site of consciousness.

"Embodied porn" is probably the best description I can come up with—I love writing sex precisely because it's such a charged form of communication (Greenwell's words again), because there are things a character can do and say in that context that they never would normally. Like, sex acts are great and all, but what really does it for me is what's going on in their head, what's the history that brought the character to this point, how're they handling the inherent vulnerability and intimacy of this incredibly risky but potentially rewarding moment. Kink (whether through roleplaying, props, costumes, or whatever) is really just another way of adding to that personal meaning, since without the characters' reactions any trappings are meaningless.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, although I'd love to work with a translator someday (whether with fic or another context)—I'm fascinated by the inherent puzzles in translating between languages, especially with informal speech and its many idioms and cultural references.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet! I'd be open to the idea, but it definitely has to be with the right person...

What's your all time favorite ship?

Isn't that basically like asking a mom to choose her favorite kid? Seriously, I like different things about all of them...which one's getting the most attention depends entirely on mood and headspace and other effectively random variables.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I don't have any I've given up on entirely, yet. Even Waters, as beastly complicated as it is, I've been ruminating on and adding to and arranging in my head lately...

What are your writing strengths?

Atmosphere, character, dialogue. I've said it before, I'm a capital-R Romantic at heart: I love writing settings that reflect and reinforce a character's headspace—while also implying what said character might be missing in their viewpoint.

Something I've noticed—my husband worked for years as a penetration tester, which meant he would regularly have to talk his way past people on a moment's notice. So, unsurprisingly, we both notice people, but he tends to observe their presentation (clothing, accessories, especially ones that're markers of social class and group belonging that allow him to tailor his approach), whereas I notice what they say and how they say it—and, often, what they don't say.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I suddenly feel like I'm in a job interview, haha. Perfectionism is a big one—I have a tendency to feel hopeless and quit if something's taking too long, rather than persisting until I get it sorted, even though some of my best work is stuff where I persisted. Also, I'm big on emotional intensity—which isn't a bad thing, necessarily, but I sometimes read back over my stuff and I'm like "geez, Ambrosia, ease up a bit"...I could definitely use some comic relief in my writing sometimes, but I think I'm often too insecure to try it.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don't have any in particular—I rarely do it myself, because I don't trust myself to do it properly. (Perfectionism again!)

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Daria, way back in the day. My work is still up on FF.net...sometimes I wonder if anyone's ever going to dig it up and confront me with it, haha. (I doubt anyone will ever care that much...I guess I'm more just curious if my style from twenty years ago is recognizably me.)

What's your favorite fic you've written?

If we're talking about finished fics, probably either "Wake Me Up" or "Young At Heart"—they're both pretty oddball, but both required a fuckton of work and both came out pretty close to what I wanted. But "Waters" is my biggest baby...maybe I'll open up Act III to work on today...

Thanks again for the tag, Ven! I'm going to tag @ihni, @redmyeyes, @twobrokenwyngs, @skybound2, @sambrosia, @shewritesdirty, @introvertia, @coffeeandchemicals, and @anarchist-billy—if you're up for some rumination, I'd love to hear your thoughts on your writing!

#author stuff #my writing #fanfic culture #about me #tag games

[slimy-eye]

The Truth About Sanguine

A conversation on Discord about Sanguine sparked the lorebeard in me sooo, I want to ramble a bit here. My love of lore gives me more than just the perspective offered by the Elder Scrolls games themselves. Oblivion, and Skyrim, portray Sanguine as a prankster, a lovable guy with hardly any ill intent. He’s just a daedra who wants his mortal followers to indulge in their passions and enjoy life. Right?

That’s where you’d be wrong. At least by a lore perspective. Headcanons, of course, are a whole different thing that I wholly encourage. But I’m here to ramble about canon lore, not my fancy headcanons. So let me tell you about Sanguine, the real daedra behind the mug of beer, the glass of wine, the spoon-full of fine moon sugar. Known on his lore page as The Lord of Revelry, the  Daedric Prince of Lust, Perversity, and Unnatural Sexual Relations.

Quick trigger warnings, because Sanguine is actually quite disturbing lore-wise. We have TWs for mentions of alcoholism, drugs, abuse, light mentions of sex, and torture.

Sanguine isn’t indulgence in your passion. He is overindulgence in your passion. He is ‘drink until you beat you partner and pass out in the backyard.’ He is ‘pass out and die from an overdose, alone in an alleyway.’ He is ‘torture innocent people to fulfil your sadistic desires.’ He is ‘take what you want, even if you don’t have consent’. And his realm is potentially hell for many.

What is Sanguine’s realm like?  The Myriad Realms of Revelry are a collection of thousands of tiny pocket dimensions within the oblivion realm that Sanguine calls home. Many of these realms are likely beautiful, and perhaps even paradise to some. But consider this. It never stops. Sanguine’s realm is quite literally hell for the many that seek an escape, for those that don’t want to suffer the effects of alcohol poisoning every day, for those that are tortured and tormented by the sadists that seek pleasure from their pain, by those that lost their entire lives and families to drug use, and are now trapped eternally in an endless loop that they can never escape from.

There isn’t a whole lot of evidence in game of just how dangerous and terrifying Sanguine is in lore, but we do see some hints about it in Skyrim. In the quest ‘A Night to Remember’, we visit the ruin of  Morvunskar. This ancient ruin is heavily populated by rogue mages and dark conjurors who seek to hide their lives from the world. It’s easy to run through the ruin and disregard the visual story telling, the hints that litter the rooms of the old fortress. Take the room filled with bedrolls and leather strips for example, sitting next to a potion of invisibility. What do you think that implies? The shrine to Dibella might suggest consensual acts, but this is a ruin perverted by the presence of Sanguine, the Prince of Hedonism. Can we really be so sure?

And just a stone’s throw away, a locked door. An expert lockpicker will have no trouble with picking the lock, but what they find inside may scar them eternally. Naris the Wicked finds a sickening amount of pleasure in burning his victims alive. You can hear his frightening commentary as he murders a woman without remorse, cooking her alive above an open firepit. Of course, it’s easy to claim that none of these conjurors are worshipers of Sanguine. After all, there’s not a single shrine to him (or in all of Skyrim for that matter) within the ruin. But consider this.

Most side quests will provide a randomized dungeon location. But A Night to Remember never changes. You will always meet Sanguine within the depths of  Morvunskar. 

Daedric Princes are hardly random in their endeavors. They are drawn to places that provide power and influence, or to places that heavily reflect their own sphere. Even if these rogue mages are not cultists of Sanguine, we must consider the fact that Sanguine is still drawn to this location. This means that even if you’re willing to dismiss the conjurors as simply ‘sadistic rogues with no real godly affiliation’, you still have to consider the fact that what they’re doing, what they’re indulging in (which is not good, judging by the visual storytelling of the fort) has drawn the Prince of Hedonism to their location, so much so that there’s even a portal to his realm inside.

Now consider Sanguine’s ESO appearance. This game might have actually done his darker nature a bit more justice. Though Sanguine himself is not present in ESO, a shrine (called Sanguine's Demesne) full of his cultists is. This everlasting party is full of violent daedra that torture the trapped guests, guests that came for a good time, and are now tormented for eternity, because you see, Sanguine doesn’t just represent the desires of mortals, but also the desires of daedra. The desire to torture. To kill. To torment. He represents more than just ‘a good time’. He represents ‘too much of a good time.’ A good time that never stops, that eventually becomes a bad time, because to Sanguine, there’s no such thing as rehab and recovery. The party is never ending.

And you will never be able to escape.

#the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #sanguine #daedra #lore #my ramblings #myramblings

[imnotwolverine]

The Accidental Family - Chapter 4

Henry Cavill x OFC - multi-chapter

< Chap 3 | Chap 4 The First Date night | Chap 5 >

Disclaimer: fluff, mild smuttiness, some strong language

Word count: 2.303

Author’s note: I had so much food the past couple of days 😂So yea, despite the Christmas days having been weird at best, me and my bf had quite a bit of fun - and a whole lot of romantic dinners to kill the time. And ..now we’re talking romantic dinners..

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

‘Black or purple, what do you think?’ Henry held up the two ties before Kal, the dog tilting his head left and right, as if deciding which one was better. The answer was apparently quite simple according to Henry’s dog; with an excited huff the Akita jumped right up in Henry’s face, licking him all over.

‘Yea, yea, hahahah - that’s the goal. Hahahah. You got me there. So..no tie, then?’ He pushed the dog back down and ruffled him through his thick fur. Kal borked softly and Henry agreed. ‘Very well, a little less formal is probably better, you’re right. We’re having a date at home, anyways.’

Henry breathed in deeply and looked in the direction of the kitchen, his stew simmering on a low fire as he heard Phoebe rummage upstairs, some closet cabinets opening and closing in a mildly hasty manner.

With Henry still in full recovery, it was decided that it would be best to just stick to a cute home dinner for their first dinner date since his memory loss - just to avoid any overzealous fans that would disturb him in a restaurant after the news had been released that he had suffered a serious head injury in a motorcycle accident.

The accident had left many scars. Both physical and mental. It was weird to be here at home now more people lived here, the kids on a prolonged stay with the grandparents while Henry and his wife recuperated from the shake-up his - their - life had had.

In the past days Henry had seen about every specialist and doctor in the book. He went from lengthy couch sessions with a psychologist - the story of the introduction of his kids having been received with mild horror - to the keeping of sleep and medication schedules with his doctor to make sure he got enough recovery and rest in between re-learning the basics of his new life.

The fact that a good many people surviving such head trauma would never be the same, troubled Henry greatly, and so whenever he was allowed to search the internet, which was sparingly, he scoured it like a starved man, the printer in the living room doing over-time to print all the articles and research he had found.

But, all that research would have to wait for the moment. First he’d have to get reacquainted with another part of his life: his wife. And even now as he heard her rummage around the master bedroom, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter with nerves.

What if she didn’t like the new Henry? What if he couldn’t fall in love with her. Or the sex would be awful, or..

NO! Stop those thoughts.

Looking back in the hallway mirror, he unbuttoned his blouse a little further, a little peek of chest hair popping out over the sleek white fabric.

‘Button up or down?’ Henry looked over at Kal, but the dog thought his human dad was being ridiculous, his body turning around to trod back to the kitchen to slobber up some water.

‘..Very well then.’

--

It was near surprising how easy dinner went by. Which of course, shouldn’t be too much of a surprise; Henry and Phoebe had several dinners at home before this one, though they never had been quite so romantic. Henry had turned the lights down low and lit some candles, the kitchen radio playing some soft jazzy music playing in the background.

With dinner over and the dirty plates returned to the dishwasher - the dance of moving around the kitchen together now quite well practised, they ended up on the couch, the both of them sipping on some tea, since it was strongly advised not to consume alcohol after Henry’s brain injury.

‘So...’ Henry finished the last sip of his tea and placed it on the side table next to his right elbow, his blue eyes searching for his wife’s slightly dazed expression - she did have a wine or two with his stew.

‘Hmm?’

‘Are you falling asleep on me, wife?’

‘Hahaha you wish.’

‘I do wish.’

‘Oh stop it!’ Her cheeks burned a bright pink, making Henry chuckle - at least he still got some of his charms.

‘I WAS actually wondering about what you mentioned earlier. When I asked you on this date..remember?’

‘Yea…’ She lifted her legs and crossed them, snuggling herself more comfortable in her nook on the couch, lips blowing over her slowly cooling tea.

‘What did you mean by “we never really dated”?’ Henry quoted the last words with his fingers.

‘Oh!’ She quickly looked away, her hands deciding it was best to put her tea away on the side table on her side of the couch. ‘Yea….’ She looked back at Henry. ‘That’s a funny story..’

‘Mmm?’

‘Okay, okay. So, I’m just curious. How do you think we met?’ Her eyebrows rose in expectation, her body fully turning towards him, legs still crossed before her chest. Henry also turned slightly, his arm stretching out over the back of the couch, his fingertips just about able to reach her knees.

‘Hmm. I’ve actually thought about that. Though of course I don’t know. But ehh..’ He squinted his eyes a little, as if playfully wanting to guess. ‘I think I met you on set.’

‘How’s that?’

‘I don’t know. Just a feeling.’

‘Well. It’s not. Try again.’

‘Okay..Ehm, then I totally met you at the grocery store and hit on you so hard that you thought I was some weird creep?’

She laughed. ‘That has happened. Not with you though.’

‘Shame.’

Phoebe laughed and shook her head. ‘Dork.’

‘OH! A comic book store?! A Comic Con? A..’

‘No, and.. no.’

‘Alright, I don’t know. Spill the beans, wife-dear.’

She shot him an exasperated look, before clicking her tongue. ‘We shagged at an after party.’

Henry’s face blanked. ‘I’m sorry, say that again: AT an after party?’

‘Yea..we definitely did it AT the after party.’

‘Was I drunk?’

Phoebe laughed. ‘Shit Henry. Of course we were. We both were. I wouldn’t for the life of me shag anyone on any party, but there we were, fumbling hands and tearing expensive dress shirts in a toilet stall.’ 

Henry’s eyes widened at her words.

‘Yea..classy, right? And you left me a little present too.’

‘We’re not talking about just a phone number here, huh?’

‘Nope. You knocked me up with our ray of sunshine, Sam. Funny thing was that I lost my phone that night, and with it your number. I then contacted your assistant, Aunt Lea, whom TOTALLY didn’t believe you’d do anything of the sort, so it took me a good three months to get in contact with you.’

‘Holy crap.’

Phoebe sighed deeply and turned away again, as if wishing to shut out Henry from her thoughts. ‘Yea, it’s been a wild ride.’

‘Wait.’ Henry pushed himself a little closer so he could brush a hand over her shoulder, his eyes searching the curve of her nose and the pull of her lips. ‘Do you regret it? It’s okay if you do. I mean, we’re all out, bums out - besides I can’t remember a thing of the things you just said.’

Phoebe shook her head. ‘No.’ She finally looked back up at Henry, her eyes a lot more warm and welcoming than he had expected. ‘I was already smitten with you before I rang this doorbell to give you the happy news you were about to become a dad...and I’d have kept sweetheart Sam either way the wind would have blown.’

‘Sam..Fixing his dad and all.’ Henry smiled.

‘Gods.’ Phoebe chuckled. ‘That was bad.’

‘Kinda. I’ll need some help with managing that rowdy bunch.’ Henry sighed, feeling Phoebe’s hand reaching out to brush through his curls again - he liked it.

‘I had a good night.’ She said.

Henry looked at her and instantly felt his heart flutter, his stomach dropping and palms going sweaty. It was quite obvious that IF he wanted to make a move, he’d have to do it now. And so, with perhaps a bit too awkward a hastiness, he scooted closer to Phoebe, his black burning eyes staring down into her expecting dark blues.

‘I liked it too. I like YOU..too.’ He breathed, making her eyes also grow darker by the second.

‘Good,’ She whispered, switching her focus between his left and right eye, noses slowly crawling closer to one another until their lips were but a breath away from touching.

‘Can I kiss y..-?’

His words lingered somewhere in between the crashing of their two bodies, Phoebe’s arms eagerly pulling him towards her, her lips savouring the taste of mint tea and musk on his tongue. And as eagerly as they started, so eagerly it to-tal-ly escalated. In moments Henry had flipped her flat onto the couch, his hands scorching the skin on her neck and chest, fingertips teasing and touching whatever piece of flesh her simple black dress revealed.

‘FUCK.’ She whined, turning her head to offer him more neck for him to bite down into.  

Henry growled and lowered his hip, making her feel the eagerness he felt in the tightness of his dress pants, the fabric strained around his crotch.

‘Oh gods,’ Her breath hiccuped and were it not for Henry’s attentiveness, he wouldn’t have picked up on the tears that had started to spill from her eyes, his body immediately pushing back up before he wiped the stray hairs in her face away, worried eyes studying her trembling lips and blurry gaze.

‘I-I’m so sorry.’ She mumbled, turning her head into the couch pillow, wishing to hide from his penetrative gaze.

‘No, no. It’s okay. Sshhh.’ He sat up on his haunches and pulled her with ease onto his lap, his chin pressing down onto her head as she cried into the open V of his shirt, his chest hair wetting with her agony - yep he kept it buttoned down. ‘Sshhh.’ He hushed, pressing more and more kisses into her golden hair. ‘I’ve got you.’

‘I’ve missed you so much.’ She whimpered, and it was in that moment Henry hated himself for the way his erection twitched beneath the plush of her thighs, his mind having to focus on anything but her scent and warmth - and failed. Henry failed miserably, Bee’s head starting to shake “no” as she pushed herself off his lap.

‘Fwooo…’ She breathed, focusing on slowing her breath before she looked back at Henry with watery eyes, their bodies separated by the magic of opposing magnetic energy; if Henry tried to come closer, she leaned back and vice versa.

‘Maybe we should give THAT a little more time.’ She chuckled through her tears, the back of her hand wiping away the smudge of mascara that was running down her cheek.

‘I’m sorry about that.’ Henry muttered, feeling like he had failed completely, though thankfully Phoebe could only see the hilarity of it:

‘Guess nothing much has changed in that department.’ She sighed and turned her body back towards him. ‘Is it okay if we sleep apart for a little bit? Just to..-’

‘Calm down?’

‘Yea.’ Her lips curled in a smile.

‘I’m not really used to sleeping with women on the first date anyways.’

Phoebe laughed, poking him in the bicep. ‘OH PLEASE, don’t tell me I was the only one you ever..’

Henry laughed along and shrugged with boyish innocence: ‘Can’t remember, but from what I know, I ...never..’

‘Will you go on another date with me though?’

Henry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He was pleased with her gentle plea, his hand catching hers to press a sweet and tender promise of a kiss onto the back of her hand. ‘Absolutely.’

--

That night Henry found himself bunking up with a bed full of stuffies, the bed of his 4-year old the only one he could somewhat fit into.

Turning towards the stuffies, he remembered the notes his wife had given him in the past days: Sam had a stuffy named Mr. Stinky, which he had left behind to watch over his other friends while he was away. 

Henry studied the line up of rabbits, elephants, bears and foxes. Which one was Stinky anyways? His wife had said it in between a avalanche of other information, so Henry hadn’t quite managed to catch on like he so wished.

‘Oh..There’s a LOT to learn huh..Mr Stinky? Or ..were you Mr Stinky?’ He looked from stuffy to stuffy, the large beady eyes looking back at him in silence. With a slight smirk on his face Henry pushed his nose into their fluffy bellies, inhaling deeply to find out which one would be Mr. Stinky. But, apparently it was just a name; they all smelled fine.

Rolling onto his back, he switched off the Mario mushroom shaped night light, the ceiling above glowing up with a hundred small stars that had been put up to keep the nightmares at bay.

‘Woa..’ He breathed, feeling his heart flip at the idea that everything about this was real. He had kids. He had..a wife. A family life. And now all he needed to learn was how to fit into his new role. This new ..Henry. And, for the fuck of sakes: if he wasn’t going to jerk off soon, he’d jump his wife before the night was through. It was quite clear how they had never made it to a first date; she simply made his heart and loin ache in a way he had never quite felt before.

Sighing deeply he looked back at the dark row of judgmental beady eyes next to him. He chuckled.

‘Yea...let’s not do that here.’

--

Chap 5 >

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira​ @tillthelandslide @elinesama​

@ceilingfann @do-youseeme

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x ofc #memory loss #the accidental family #date night #mild smut #only mild #more like a tiny smidge #but more to come later

[thenightling]

The Sandman / Locke & Key crossover review

I just read The Sandman / Locke & Key crossover issue 2 and though the artwork is beautiful some of the continuity issues really start to bother me very quickly

Warning, there are some spoilers below.

Continuity problems on the first few pages.  What's with Gilbert's dark humor about Lucien being blinded?  I know he has some quirky moments but that seems a bit much, like mocking Rose for nearly being raped in the alley.  The Corinthian being banished.  In Overture he fled.  He went on the run to avoid being uncreated. Since when is The Corinthian sexist? He's many things but "You're just a woman."  That didn't quite fit him.   He's an asshole but for many other reasons.  The title of the book Mary asked for to trick The Corinthian was a parody on "How to make  friends and influence people."  That book wasn't published until 1936.  The year this is set in is 1927...   They still keep calling him Shaper.  Only the fae called him shaper, it's a direct translation of Morpheus.   They should be calling him Dream or Morpheus in The Dreaming or in the case of Cain and Abel "Prince of stories."   They claim only "The shaper" can uncreate his dream folk.  Okay but... holding The Dreaming from 2018  Lucien uncreated Merv's friends...

And that’s just in the first five pages.

One thing that really felt wrong to me is when Gilbert and Lucien find out that their master is being held in a cage in The Waking World they decide NOT to rescue him because it would “humiliate” him.  And he can be “dangerous if he resents you.”  So you let your world deteriorate for a century because it might bruise his ego.   

By that reasoning in issue 2 of The Sandman when Morpheus ended up at The House of Mystery Cain and Abel should have left him on the doorstep.

(Mocking scenario:   Abel: “Should we help him?” / Cain: “Naw, don’t want to embarrass him. Just leave him on the doorstep.”

Seriously, it would have been better to just not let them know their king is caged- rather than “We left him there because it would bruise his ego to be rescued.”  That’s so... stupid.

Also, no, Lucien.  His last lover did not suffer in Hell for ten thousand years.  He had lovers after Nada including Titania. YOU would know this.  

She literally says fuck him and none of his subjects say otherwise?!

Ha... ha?

Also why does Gilbert know who Rose Walker is already?   He says “You remind me of someone I haven’t met yet” and then name drops her.  Did Joe Hill completely misunderstand what was going on in Soft Places?  That though Morpheus was fresh from Captivity, for Gilbert it was the 1990s?

The characterizations in here are so terrible. Lucifer is portrayed as more of a traditional Devil and for some reason not just resembling Bowie but specifically 1997 Bowie including 1997 clothing for some reason.  And his behavior was more traditional maniacal villain.  

There are so many continuity errors.   Etrigan isn’t a rhymer yet.  Hell somehow already seems to have its triumvirate.  Azazel was eating Choronzon but somehow he’s fine when The Sandman starts.

Even the bonus article about a massive fire at Fawny Rig is a current canon contradiction.  Fawny Rig is in tact in The Dreaming (2018) comics.   

 I had trouble reading it simply after she woke from The Dreaming knowing Gilbert AND Lucien voted to leave Morpheus caged.  

 I can’t believe Neil was okay with Gilbert and Lucien deciding it’s better to leave Morpheus caged for the next century.

Yet again, the art is lovely but the characterizations and continuity errors are just so terrible, it made it an unpleasant read.  The first volume wasn’t as bad even with mysteriously de-aged Alexander Burgess...

I feel like Joe Hill wasn’t trying to emulate Neil Gaiman and his universe but rather the continuity created by Caitlin R. Kiernan during the era of The Sandman presents and I ...I am not a fan of that era of Sandman writing. I doubt many people are.  I disliked Caitlin R. Kiernan’s Sandman content so much it almost made me lose interest in The Sandman all together and doubt the quality of the original Sandman.  This had nearly the same effect.   I sat here thinking “How could Neil Gaiman approve Lucien and Gilbert literally voting to leave Morpheus caged and bad mouthing him worse than Merv Pumpkinhead?”�� 

This is harder to ignore than Caitlin R. Kiernan's Dreaming because this was written by Joe Hill as part of his Locke & Key comics.  That means it'll forever BE canon to Lock & Key.  There's no de-canonizing this...

I think I liked it better when it looked like Joe Hill was just going to stepstep The dream folk asking about where Morpheus is but instead... they really opt to leave him a cage for a century and let their world crumble around them as a result all because it might bruise his ego.   It made a lot more sense when they did not know where he was at all. I know Morpheus was a jerk in this era but it makes me feel extra sorry for him that his own subjects would treat him this way, especially Lucien.

I can’t get over their reaction to Mary suggesting they rescue Morpheus.  Honestly, it would have made more sense for them to try to save him, fail, and somehow lose the memory of the effort.  It would have been frustrating but it would not have character-assassinated Lucien like this, that he LET his library be destroyed because he didn’t want to free his master from his cage.  Seriously, this makes no sense.

Based on one of the variant covers of issue 2 of this crossover it does look like they originally planned to have a subplot of Mary trying to rescue Morpheus, perhaps with Gilbert and Lucien’s help, but maybe Roderick caught them and erased their memories of seeing Morpheus there, via magick spell. That would have made more sense than what is actually inhere.  It’s like at the last second someone decided they shouldn’t do that so now you have Gilbert and Lucien going very out-of-character and literally voting to leave Morpheus caged indefinitely and talking Mary out of trying to save him.

I am unnerved that Neil was okay with how poor Gilbert and Lucien were treated to accommodate plot convenience.  Raising Morpheus from the dead is forbidden but having Lucien and Gilbert vote to leave Morpheus caged and destroy their own world- AND The Dreaming Library- that's fine?!

Mary’s story ends okay but the portrayal of the dream folk and how they act about Morpheus, even during his darker phase of his existence, is pretty terrible. 

#The sandman #Locke & Key / The Sandman Universe #Locke & Key / The Sandman: Hell and Gone #Neil Gaiman's The Sandman Universe #Locke & Key #Joe Hill #Neil Gaiman

[thebluelemontree]

I know GRRM has previously stated that ADwD!Tyrion is at his lowest point, but I find it very hard to see how he will ever redeem himself given what he has done and what he has participated in. Do you believe readers gloss over the tragedies he faces i.e. slavery, the Tysha revelation, and do you see path for redemption?

I think with the fandom in general there does seem to be a proportional relationship to the amount of careful consideration people give their problematic favs versus how little they give to a character that is decidedly not their fav. Full disclosure: Tyrion is not one of my favs. There are moments I don’t like him and I don’t personally connect with him. He’s deliberately written to be someone most readers will wrestle with. Out of all the POVs, he’s probably the most psychologically complex and fraught with a minefield of trauma-induced hot buttons. As we know, profound trauma and horrific family dynamics rarely produce saintly victims who suffer beautifully, quietly, and always behave magnanimously. I am by no means an expert on Tyrion; however, I do know he definitely started out as a good person. Early AGOT Tyrion is a pretty decent fellow who validated Jon’s feelings of anger and resentment and designed a saddle to accommodate Bran’s disability for no other reason than he just empathized with them both. Even later on, he does stand up for Sansa against Joffrey’s cruelty, even though their marriage was a miserable farce and act of war against her family. Sansa seems to bear no personal ill-will toward him despite it. I think we should leave room for the possibility the impression he made with small kindnesses in the beginning could come back around to foster peace and mutual forgiveness between the Starks and Lannisters toward the end. 

But before that he was a sweet, loving kid until he was brutally disabused of the notion that anyone could possibly love him. I can’t imagine anything worse than your own father violently raping by proxy two innocent kids for the crime of his son being happy and believing for one single second that he was loved for himself. He’s experienced a lifetime of continuous physical, sexual, mental, and verbal abuse on top of ableist bigotry and repeated scapegoating that nearly cost him his life more than once. For all his dark gray, unlikable moments, it’s actually kind of a miracle that Tyrion still retains what goodness he does have when he could have been totally fucked up beyond repair, without any pity or compassion left in him, and hating all of humanity with every fiber of his being.   

GRRM does a good job of delivering blow after intensifying blow leading up to the moment he snaps and murders Tywin and Shae.There’s the overwhelming stress of the trial for the regicide he was framed for, one where his guilt and conviction is a foregone conclusion. The public humiliation and betrayal of Shae’s false testimony where his sexuality is served up for mockery. The people of KL are literally bloodthirsty and cheering for his death. There’s the momentary hope and crushing defeat of Oberyn Martell championing him in the trial by combat. Then finally Jaime drops the Tysha bomb. I mean, wow... it’s a lot. It’s totally understandable why he goes to the Hand’s tower to confront his father instead of escaping immediately. Personally, I don’t think he has to be sorry about killing Tywin at all. That pile of excrement had it coming and deserved a painful, ignoble death on the shitter at minimum. Shae is the only one there that has enough mitigating factors to say she definitely didn’t deserve to be strangled to death, though I get how it happened in the heat of the moment under intense mental duress. I think he needs to atone for that one, and I say that as someone who thinks Shae is a callous, conniving, greedy, low-level bloodsucker without any redeeming qualities. Yet, killing either of them, especially Tywin, didn’t bring Tyrion any peace or satisfaction whatsoever. Kinslaying is still up there with the most cursed of transgressions. It’s major part of his spiral into the tormented abyss we see in ADWD.  

It’s been a long time since I read ADWD as it’s not my favorite part of the series, so my memory of all the details is not the best. And like I said, I am not an expert on Tyrion. The general impression I get is that Tyrion thinks that he thinks he hates humanity and he’s finally become the monster everyone believed him to be. So he rages against practically everything and everyone. He certainly harbors a hatred for the people of KL and the sister sitting on the throne. There is a high probability he acts upon those feelings and helps usher in a catastrophic tragedy out of vengeance. Just as an example, he is aware of the wildfire cache sitting under KL and that knowledge can be used in a really bad way. Might be that crossing a point of no return, which may feel glorious in the moment, is ironically the thing that causes him to recoil in horror and regret after the dust settles. Consider Tyrion’s dream about the duality of himself: 

That night Tyrion Lannister dreamed of a battle that turned the hills of Westeros as red as blood. He was in the midst of it, dealing death with an axe as big as he was, fighting side by side with Barristan the Bold and Bittersteel as dragons wheeled across the sky above them. In the dream he had two heads, both noseless. His father led the enemy, so he slew him once again. Then he killed his brother, Jaime, hacking at his face until it was a red ruin, laughing every time he struck a blow. Only when the fight was finished did he realize that his second head was weeping.

If the two heads are both noseless, then they are both present day Tyrion. There are two sides of him right now that are equally capable of reveling in bloody vengeance and weeping for someone he still loves even though they wounded him deeply. 

Then what? Well, the thing about hitting your lowest point is that you can either dwell there until you fatally self-destruct or you can find your way back up. Granted, ADWD Tyrion is in a dark place, but there’s still space to get even darker for at least a little while in TWOW. It is possible Tyrion spends the rest of his life atoning for his worst actions during this period, using his intellectual gifts (even the parts that are Tywin writ small) to serve the needs of the people he has harmed. And it does make good story sense for someone who grew to hate humanity for very understandable reasons still found it in himself to care about it enough to save it. Even sacrifice himself for it if necessary since there’s a strong possibility he is a dragon rider. Since all signs seem to point to him ultimately playing a heroic role against the Others, we can rule out the idea that he just says good riddance to bad rubbish and laughs while the world ends. That has to mean something, right? 

There is always a path for redemption for anyone who sees the wrong of what they’ve done, has heartfelt remorse, and commits themselves to meaningful and lasting change. It’s not really about forgiveness at all, although that sometimes happens alongside redemption and it’s certainly easier for people to forgive once they see change. Redemption is work the character must do themselves for the right reasons. It’s not a status granted to them by other people. In fact, it’s probably more sincere when someone decides to do right anyway even if no one ever thinks better of them. If Tyrion (or any other character) is unforgivable to you, then the best worst thing that could happen is that they have to live a long life and spend all of it repaying their karmic debt. Even if he’s not my fav or your fav, a lot of people out there still do relate to him and the things he’s been through. A lot of people are not okay and not good victims from the trauma they’ve suffered. Fiction with redemption that is possible for anyone gives people hope that they could be better too, and there’s no other instance in the books that makes me think GRRM is cynical about redemption. The only way redemption isn’t happening for Tyrion is if he choses not pursue it. 

#Anonymous #valyrianscrolls #tyrion lannister #asoiaf meta #redemption in asoiaf #not my area of expertise but I'm trying my best here #my meta

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 301 Spoiler Thoughts: Pain, More Pain, Extra Pain, EVERYTHING HURTS

I had to wait until the summary for this chapter came out to get my thoughts across and holy shit, my dudes...  This chapter is so, so deep and adds a lot more to the Todoroki family than I thought possible.  I’m still thinking about all of it as I’m typing this.  But, writing is how I process things sometimes, so I hope this helps all of us:

The chapter starts off with a flashback to when Enji (I’m calling Endeavor by his real name here so long as we’re dealing with his family) proposing to marry Rei to Rei and her family.  Rei is aware of the whole “Quirk Marriage” thing, but she accepts the proposal much to her family’s delight.  What’s surprising here is that it’s implied that Enji expected Rei to say “No”.  I’m honestly kind of shocked here too.  

One, I thought because of the whole eugenics thing that Rei and her family would be taken aback by this.  Back in the Sports Fest. Arc, I believe Shoto implied the that Endeavor bought Rei’s hand in marriage with money (it’s been a LONG time, so please correct me on this if I’m wrong).  But they were actually ok with the idea of having Rei be married to a top hero like Endeavor.  Rei seemed more reluctant though the fact that she said “Yes” maybe implies that she had legitimate feelings of love for Enji before shit hit the fan.

Edit: Ok, the fan translations are out.  It’s said that Rei did this for the sake of her family.  I still think she at least started to have legit feelings of love for Enji at some point.

Two, Enji didn’t expect Rei to accept his proposal.  We all know that Enji’s intention was to have a kid that had a Quirk that possessed both fire and ice so that the kid could surpass All Might.  Maybe Enji was looking for other women with ice Quirks before Rei and all of them before her turned him down.  So when Rei accepted, Enji was shocked that someone agreed to what was basically his plan for the future.

The next page shows Enji and Rei on a walk in the park Rei looks at her favorite flowers and Enji asks if she likes them to which Rei says “yes”.  Enji comments on how strong yet fragile Rei is.  It’s such a small scene, but it tells the story so well visually.  I can’t explain it well here, but I think this is where Enji started to see Rei as more of a person to love than something that can help achieve his goal.  

Back to the present real quick, we go back to Rei confronting Enji.  She came to see him because things are not okay and they need to face their family’s tragedy head on.  At the same time, Dabi is reflecting on his life and doing his iconic monologuing about how he loved seeing Enji suffer.  He wants the rest of his family to see how he suffered too.  This further establishes how much Dabi wants to see his father be destroyed mentally.  He wants him to reap everything he sewed.  I’ll be damned if Dabi’s plan didn’t work.  Also, Dabi is shown crying blood again as the panel transitions to the Todoroki household with the blood tear seeping into the next panel.  God, I love Horikoshi’s panel structuring A+ stuff.

Back to the past, Enji stopped training little Touya.  His fire Quirk was getting stronger, but so was the ice part of his body.  Touya’s body was meant for the cold, but his fire Quirk counteracts that.  So, Touya’s ultimately harming himself.  This reveals to us that Enji didn’t really stop training Touya because he wasn’t the “perfect specimen” for his plan.  It was mainly because Enji cared about Touya enough that he didn’t want his son to harm himself anymore than he already has.  Enji abused his kids and wife, sure, but he wasn’t always a bad man.  He did love his family before something snapped.

Also, real quick, but there’s a panel that shows Touya’s hair getting progressively whiter.  Specifically the left side of his head.  He looks like the opposite of Shoto actually and I bet you money that that was done on purpose.  Symbolism, my friends.

The next panels shows little Touya and Fuyumi (AWWW 🤍) talking a bit.  Touya’s upset that their dad won’t train him anymore while Fuyumi just doesn’t want her brother to get hurt.  Touya says that girls wouldn’t understand (he’s a kid here, so I’ll let this slide).  It hurts to see how Touya misunderstand the situation here.  I think he ultimately wanted to have love and acceptance from his father via training to make Enji proud.  But training only caused Touya pain.  Pushing Touya away for his own safety ended up making things worse.

I actually can’t describe what happens next (I've seen the panel, but it hasn’t been translated fully yet), but it has something to do with Rei trying to convince Enji not to do something in particular because it would be too cruel.  Touya continued to train alone and he kept getting scars on his skin every day because his ambitions are just as strong as Enji’s.  He didn’t know when to give up.  In the end, Enji knew that Touya couldn’t surpass All Might and he tried to get Touya to give up his ambitions so that he would stop hurting himself.  I think this is where Enji’s drive to have a kid to surpass All Might started to take over his love for his family.  I want to comment more on this part, but I think I’ll have to wait until the full chapter comes out.  I’ll add an edit when I read it.  It’s a painful, sad page regardless and I want to cry 😢.

Edit: Ok, I’ve read the translations for this page and it’s still not entirely clear what “cruel idea” Rei and Enji are talking about here.  The best I can take I can think from this is that Enji did think that having more kids would solve the problem; it would help Touya give up the idea of surpassing All Might.  The panels get darker and darker too, which shows how dark all this has become.  

Next, Natsuo is born and he was so ADORABLE!!! 💙  Fuyumi looked so happy to have a little brother ❤️  But, Touya looks devastated; like he’s been replaced again.  My heart hurts so bad for this kid.  All he wanted was his father’s attention, but Enji seemed to have moved on from him and had more kids instead.  Almost like having more kids would solve the problem... ugh...

As time goes on, Enji gets angrier at All Might’s success (btw, seeing All Might drawn in his buff form again makes me nostalgic) and Rei becomes more fearful.  The summary states that Rei stopped “looking” at Enji at some point.  I think this is the point where Enji drive to create a perfect child completely took over his life and his family’s lives.  Even so, I think we need an explanation of when exactly Enji snapped and changed into the abusive man we all knew and how that exactly came to be.  We got hints in this chapter, but I think we need a full explanation.

AND SHOTO WAS BORN HE WAS BABY 💙🥺😭 Crying into the world he came into like most newborns do.  I want to love him and take care of him 💙💙💙 Look, Shoto’s my favorite character in the series and we need some good vibes in this depressing chapter, so please let me have this.

But, my god.  The faces on Enji, Rei, and Touya are haunting.  I honestly can’t really describe it.  It’s just so unsettling.  Enji looks like he’s glad he’s finally “created” the perfect child, Rei looks exhausted, and Touya is even more devastated than before.  The panel lines are all distorted too which drives the mood home.

Touya continues to train on his own to prove himself to his father.  He’s burning himself more and he looks like he’s loosing his mind.  I’m not exaggerating; Touya actually looks like he’s going crazy.  Enji is tying to convince Touya that they’re more to the world than being a hero like playing with his siblings and making friends at school.  But, Touya can’t because, as he says, “I’m your son”.  Despite Enji probably focusing primarily on getting ready to train Shoto at this point, he still cared enough about Touya to where he wanted him to have a life outside of heroism.  Though that could also be because, again, he’s turned his focus on Shoto instead (this family is a mess).  And Touya being so driven to have his father pay attention to him is heartbreaking.  No kid should have to go through this.

And then he activates his Quirk to attack baby Shoto.  Lil’ Fuyumi’s protecting Lil’ Natsuo and Rei is holding onto Lil’ Shoto 😭.  Rei wants to help cool him down with her Quirk, but Touya “fire” Enji lit can’t be put out.  Touya’s too far gone.  He even stops calling Enji “father”; he says “look at me, Endeavor” instead.  Everything about this makes me sad, man.  Touya’s love for his father turned into what he thought was abandonment, which turned into mad jealousy for his baby brother.  Though Enji did light Touya’s fire, it was Touya himself who ultimately drove himself insane.  Touya helped create Dabi, it wasn’t all Enji Todoroki’s doing.

And finally, the flashback ends with Rei stating that Enji isn’t the only who’s suffered, but he’s also not the only one who didn’t look at Touya.  This implies that Rei shares the blame for letting Touya turn into Dabi.  I do wonder what Rei didn’t do that helped Touya’s transformation.  I doubt she neglected him entirely, but maybe she wasn’t paying attention to him as much because of her other kids and her declining mental state. I can’t comment on this very much with the lack of details, but i do hope things get answered soon.

Edit: I’ve thought about this a bit more.  Rei was/is a good mother and she’s a badass in her own right.  She never meant to harm her kids.  But, based on that dark panel before about Enji thinking of a way to get Touya to give up the idea of being  a hero, Rei did agree to Enji’s plan in the end.  She decided to have more kids with him until they got the perfect child in Shoto.  Why did she agree, we don’t know.  That detail isn’t there just yet.  I bet we’ll get it in Pt. 2.  Again, Rei isn’t a bad person, but she did play a part in Touya’s downfall.  Which, of course, makes things all the more sad. 

Lastly, it’s stated that Rei came from a prestigious and noble family called Himura.  It’s a small detail, but it’s shows that Shoto and his siblings basically came from royalty.  Ha, Shoto really is a prince 👑!  It would explain those damn good Todoroki genes 😳😍.  Oh, and the kanji for “Hi” in Himura means icicle, ice, hail, freeze, etc. so Horikoshi’s playing with names again.  

Quick Edit: Turns out this part with Rei’s maiden name is actually at the VERY BEGINNING of the chapter LOL.  Either the image leaks got scrambled or the summary found this panel last.  Whoops...

Hoo boy, I think that’s it.  Really heavy chapter full of more layers and details about the Todoroki family that we didn’t get before.  This is honestly one of the best storylines in the series and I’m so glad to see it come back to the forefront again.  Horikoshi has handled this particular story so, so damn well I can’t help but be impressed.  I think, ultimately, the Todoroki family fell apart and became more and more tragic over time.  Amazingly, it wasn’t entirely Enji’s fault like we originally thought.  Yes, he was a big reason as to why everything happened the way it did.  His redemption does not excuse his years of abuse and neglect towards Shoto, Rei, and Touya especially.  But, Touya and maybe even Rei had a part in this.  I hope whatever Rei did or didn’t do isn’t so bad that we immediately put her into a bad light.  I hope it boils down to “she’s human”.  Though, Touya did ultimately drive himself to insanity.  He didn’t accept his father’s suggestion to stop training.  He only pushed himself further to the point of jealousy.  God, he tried to kill baby Shoto at one point.  We can dissect this family’s story for months and still find something new.  This chapter was called “Mischief of Fire - Part 1″ which means we’re definitely getting more.  I’m going to sit here and process all this in the meantime.  Anyone got any ice cream to go with my tears and pain from BNHA angst?

#My Hero Academia Spoilers #Boku No Hero Academia Spoilers #MHA Spoilers #BNHA Spoilers #MHA 301 #Rei Todoroki #Enji Todoroki #Endeavor #Touya Todoroki #Toya Todoroki #Dabi #Fuyumi Todoroki #Natsuo Todoroki #Shoto Todoroki #Shouto Todoroki #will the pain ever stop #this family is a mess #i'm so sad for them #none of them deserve this #yes even Endeavor #but he should still reap what he sowed #I love this story #I want to go home #i hate it here #i also love it here #imma go back to crying #BNHA 301 #pain and angst #301 #spoiler