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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year

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Changing Shadows (Part 20)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel set off on a mission in the Illyrian camps. But what happens when your past gets the better of you?

Lot’s of fluff and angst in this mission/fighting based chapter, I think the reader and Az work so well as a team! Hope you enjoy 💕

Image by koike9023

Warnings: Violence, PTSD, swearing, blood

Word count: 1,588

Part 20:

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Cold air wrapped around you as you gripped firmly to an icy branch.

You were waiting for Azriel’s signal from the tall trees that backed the Illyrian war camps. Scanning the paths below you, you saw a few males walking about, fires dimming as they made their way to and from their tents.

You kept a close eye on the lieutenant’s office, an old brick building at the centre of the camp. That was where the records were, and where Azriel was currently getting rid of security one by one, his stealth making him untraceable.

One signal was all you needed, and you would winnow inside the building to infiltrate the records room. And not a moment later, you saw dark shadows seep from the hollow windows, beckoning you.

That was it. You stood on the branch, taking a deep breath before willing yourself inside.

You felt Azriel’s strong hands on your shoulders before the rest of the room fell into place. He held you firmly, facing you down a long corridor.

“Two from the east, and I’ve got two from the west.” he whispered in your ear. A shiver ran down your spine at his instruction.

Nodding, you braced yourself for a fight. Sure enough, two Illyrian males reached the corridor, spotting you and withdrawing their blades. You ran at them, not giving them a chance to gain on you.

You spun gracefully around their attacks, using your night magic to throw their weapons against the wall. Their eyes went wide when they realised your strength, but they didn’t give up.

A fist came careening towards your face, but years of training to counter Illyrian style fighting meant you knew it was coming. You held out a strong arm in defence, kicking out the males legs and using the palm of your hand to push his nose from the bottom up with all your strength.

You heard a crack as the male cried out, his face pouring with blood. You had definitely broken his nose. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

Your eye caught Azriel fighting the other two males near the entrance to the records room. You couldn’t help but admire him. He was a smart fighter, always more collected than his opponents.

The other male reached from behind you, pulling two strong arms around your body and squeezing tight. You gritted your teeth, calling your night magic to enter his body. The male roared in pain, but did not let go. Stubborn bastard.

The male continued to thrash, his grip tightening before he did the unspeakable and bit into your wing. He sunk his teeth into the bone and membrane as hard as he could, and you screamed in pain. It was the most savage move an Illyrian could make to another.

Something in you snapped. Anger so dark, so deep that it wasn’t red that you saw, it was black. Magic pierced from you, releasing his grip as you spun around, the male now whimpering on his knees.

“H-High Fae b-bitch,” he stuttered, jerking in pain.

Your face was one of pure disgust as your ears rang, unable to see or hear anything but the pathetic male in front of you. You would end him now, end any male you dared harm your wings again. This was for the young girl in you, who couldn’t save herself at the time.

You felt magic and anger boil inside you, black night filling your eyes as you raised your palm at the Illyrian on the floor. Your skin crawled with heat as magic encompassed you, unable to feel anything but the pure hatred for the male and his kind.

Magic banked at your palm, building into a dark sphere. But before you could let go, a cool voice cut through the roaring in your head.

“Y/N,” Azriel said calmly from behind you. You blinked, your arm still raised at the male as you snapped your head to him, eyes still black.

“You don’t have to do this.” Azriel looked at you, eyes pleading. You saw the two males he had fought unconscious on the floor behind him.

You blinked again, as if trying to find some light in the darkness that swirled in your head. Your mission was not to kill, Rhys’s orders had been clear. You could feel the violet returning to your eyes as you took a shaky breath.

“That’s it,” Azriel encouraged, a hand now gently placed on your back.

The magic in you simmered as you lowered your arm.

The male on the floor panted, pain easing as your magic levelled. “I’d rather you killed me, you soul-sucking bi-,”

You did not need to raise your arm to shoot a burst of night magic at him, rendering him unconscious alongside his counterparts. You knew it wouldn’t kill him, but would take many days of rest to recover from.

You turned back to Azriel, collecting yourself with another quick breath. His face was relieved.

You tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Azriel grabbed your shoulders again, levelling a calm look at you. “Let’s get those records.”

The rest of the mission went smoothly, thank the Cauldron.

You located the records quickly as Azriel kept watch. Once you had the book, you both winnowed to an agreed location – a less frequented clearing in the outskirts of the camps. From there you would fly, unable to winnow all the way back to Velaris.

As you landed in the clearing, a set of four guards broke through the tents, charging at you.

Azriel smirked, elbowing you as he nodded to the group of males. “You seem like you could blow off some steam.”

You grinned at the challenge. The open air of the clearing meant you could fly, it would be easy work. “Yes please,” you practically growled.

Az held his smirk as he asked “You sure I can’t help?”

“They’re mine,” you joked, playfully shoving him aside.

Azriel laughed as he flexed his wings. “I’ll be watching,” he said, before winnowing to a silent place to enjoy the show.

You spun to a great height before tackling one of the males to the ground. You launched yourself in the air again, the other three males leaping to the skies to catch you in a race they could not win. Az watched as each of them dropped from the sky, one by one, before winnowing to meet you in the air.

You soared silently together for a few minutes, panting from your victory against the Illyrians and allowing mind catching up on the adrenaline. But you knew you needed to address what had happened to you in that corridor.

“Azriel, I-“

“Don’t.” He cut you short, knowing exactly what you were going to say. “Don’t apologise. You were amazing.”

You blinked. “What?” you asked, shock written on your face.

“You would have killed that male in seconds, and anything else in a twenty-foot radius for that matter.”

You gulped. That’s what you were afraid of.

“It was incredibly impressive,” he chuckled, flying closer and reaching for your hand.

You reached back, fingers lacing together. Azriel looked at you in admiration.

“You’ve become so strong Y/N. I am always impressed by your work, but tonight you reminded me why Velaris is in the safest of hands.”

You blinked at him, shocked at his words. You had always tried to show Azriel that you were not a waste of his efforts, tried to show him his years of personal coaching and training and support had been worth it.

Your eyes brimmed with the tears, the wind drying them faster than they could spill. “It’s all thanks to you,” you said softly.

Azriel shook his head. “Not a chance, Y/N. That was all you. You are so strong, it makes me fear for my own safety.”

You laughed loudly. What a ridiculous thought, that a Shadowsinger could fear your power.

“I’m being truthful,” Azriel said, smiling back at you. You let go of his hand, giving him a playful shove. He went to shove you back, which you skilfully dogged.

Soaring ahead, you did a playful loop around Azriel as he chuckled.

You glowed at his words, at the strength he saw in you. You had waited years to hear something like that, and you hadn't even known it.

Azriel’s smile was broad, as if he himself glowed at your happiness, at how far you had come.

He reached for your hands again, wings flapping as he spun you both around and around, your laugh filling the night sky.

“I have never heard or seen anything more beautiful,” he said softly, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked deep into your eyes.

Your heart fluttered, blushing at his words. Oh, this male. You could die right here.

“You, Azriel, are the most truehearted male I know,” you said, thumbs rubbing his hands as he held yours. You could have sworn he blushed.

But it had to end, you had to get the book to Rhys. And your heart hurt at the thought of you losing this connection the moment you walked through those doors. So you closed your eyes, willing yourself to forever remember the moment in the skies with Azriel, the moment he made you feel so complete.

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Part 21 >>>

AN: I hope you liked the character development for our reader in this chapter!! Plenty more angst to come tbh, so hold on tight :) <3 Comment to join the tag list!

Tags: @slvtherinseeker @judig92 @kennedy-brooke @hyacinthoideshispanica @brekkershadowsinger @its-me-meg @acotar-thirst @5moremin @honeyrydernot @azzydaddy @lucyysthings @highladyofillyria @paasrin @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @littleshopofwhoress @blurredlamplight @hanasakr @bookish-dream @fall-myriad @aistheamazing @jazmin2211

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dgrailwar · 4 days

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Round 8, Day 4 - All Teams (Quiz Answers)

I see you've finished the quiz! Let's go through the answers, shall we?

Question 1: The Fairy King Oberon, while often record as a king of the faeries, is also conflated as a ruler of…

Answer: Dwarves! In many French tales, Oberon (or rather Aubéron) is noted as being dwarfish, both in height and in heritage. He is also considered to be a parallel to Alberich, a Germanic king of supernatural beings such as elves, dwarves, and fae.

I can see many of you, based on recent events, decided to go with 'Dragons'. However, Oberon has little to no ties to dragons historically. Additionally, due to 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' taking place in a Greek-inspired setting, I can understand how some may have thought he ruled over dryads as well as faeries.

Question 2: Jeanne d'Arc, the famed Holy Maiden that participated in the Hundred Years' War, was born where?

Answer: Domrémy! Many of you seemed to get this one, very good!

Jeanne d'Arc, despite what one may assume from her attributed name (and the anglicized version 'Joan of Arc'), did not come from a place called 'Arc'. Rather 'd'Arc' is considered corruption of her father's name.

Additionally, while Orléans was a major location in Jeanne's military career, it was not her hometown. Though you could consider it possibly where the legend of 'Jeanne d'Arc' was etched into human history.

Question 3: The great sea beast Leviathan is often thought to represent what deadly sin…?

Answer: Envy! Once again, the majority of you seemed to get this one correct.

The Leviathan is noted to be an ancient primordial chaos-beast, ever changing and constantly consuming. While 'wrath' and 'greed' may be good fits for such a creature, ultimately he is representative of the sin of 'envy'.

Question 4: The Shimonoseki War, of which Takasugi Shinsaku participated, began in what year?

Answer: 1863! It seems we have quite a few historians within our midst!

It lasted for several weeks in 1863, and had a brief resurgence in 1864.

Question 5: What type of animal is Ganesha's mount, Mushika?

Answer: A mouse! It seems as if this one tripped up a considerable amount of you.

While Ganesha is known as an elephant-headed god of massive stature, he's known to travel around on a rodent named Mushika, or the 'little hoarder'. Some may have found the idea of an elephant riding a mouse a bit curious, but the gods aren't as limited in their choices as humans, and they often pick their mounts for a reason- and there are a few stories relating to how and why Ganesha and Mushika came to be allies.

Keen-eyed players may have realized that Mushika has been accompanying his master this entire time!

Question 6: What was the name of the ship Edmond Dantes sailed on before he was falsely arrested for treason?

Answer: The Pharaon!

Charon, while known as a boatman of the dead, may have seemed like a correct answer for potential thematic purposes, the actual name of the ship was slightly different.

Edmond Dantès served as the first mate of the ship, briefly taking over for the captain's duties when the captain had passed away. He was charismatic, kind-hearted, and had a promising future, which made his arrest and betrayal all the more devastating.

Question 7: When the Voyager 1 launched in 1977, it carried the Golden Record with it. What was the Golden Record made of?

Answer: Gold-Plated Copper!

While records are often made of vinyl, such a material would decay quickly while out in space. Copper, on the other hand, would last for much longer and be less prone to chemical processes breaking it down. The gold-plated copper would be stable for a much longer amount of time, keeping it relatively intact as the Voyager continued its journey through the stars.

I would have accepted 'Humanity's Dreams' as an answer if you had felt like being cheeky.

#loading screen quiz #overseer post

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honestlydarkprincess · 9 months

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First Line/Last Line

Rules: Pick your 5 most recent fics and list the first and last lines, no context.

tagged by @spotsandsocks, @wikiangela 💖

of fruit baskets and grocery store kisses

“Oi, Buckley! There’s a delivery here for you.” Chimney called out to Buck. He had been the closest so the delivery person went up to him to ask where one Evan Buckley could be found.

“Yeah. I was thinking a fruit basket.”

on the tip of my tongue

Natalia sat at the bar, chasing an ice cube with the straw in her drink and sighed. She had been hoping that she wouldn’t be here again, at least not for a little while. Things with Buck had ended— on a happy note, but still, they had ended.

“We’d have gotten here eventually,” Natalia replied, tangling their fingers together. “But for the record, I’m glad you talked to me tonight too.”

let me take care of you

Stiles roused from a cold-induced hibernation to the sound of someone banging on the door of his apartment. He groaned, trying to cover his ears against the harsh sound. Maybe if he ignored it, it would go away.

“Well, good,” Stiles echoed Derek’s earlier words. “Now I think you mentioned something about soup?”

a father's day misunderstanding

Buck and Christopher were in the middle of having breakfast one morning while Eddie was finishing up a 24 hour shift when Buck asked, “So, what do you want to do today, buddy? I was thinking we could start on Eddie’s father’s day card?”

They settled down for breakfast, everyone laughing and enjoying themselves— and it was the best damn meal Buck had ever had.

(mis)understanding the assignment

Eddie shut his locker with a sigh. It had been a long day, call after call keeping them busy and he was ready to get home, grab a beer and relax.

And Eddie got his wish, that date was the last first date either of them ever went on.

tagging: @bigfootsmom, @lovebuck, @devirnis, @housewifebuck, @buddierights, @forthewolves, @cowboy-buddie, @loserdiaz, @monsterrae1, @prettyboybuckley, @folk-fae, @oliverstaark, @useramor, @roy-kents, @princessfbi, @lover-of-mine, @thosetwofirefighters, @paranoidbean, @transbuck, @diazass, and @diazblunt

#jess.writes #my fics #buddie #buddie fic #lutalia #lutalia fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #natalia dollenmeyer #lucy donato #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #sterek fic #911 #911 fox #911 abc #teen wolf #tag games

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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 1 year

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A Year Without (8/10)

Summary: After the curse returns Killian to the Enchanted Forest, he struggles to acclimate to his old life and his old ways. When a bird with a letter and memory potion arrives on his ship, he accepts the challenge to find Emma and help her save her family. Getting to Emma won't be easy and will cost him dearly, but what choice does he have when he cannot go a day without memories of her haunting him?

A03 | CH 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | CUTS

Day 235

A grin broke across Hook’s face as he stared at the elaborate wooden chest on his main deck, they’d done it. He’d uncovered the legendary treasure of Captain Sparrow. Being the man who’d actually unearthed the horde was something that he’d be remembered for. It was something that perhaps would be recorded in those storybooks in the realm without magic. A story in which he would not be recorded as a villain, but as a hero. A wickedly clever, dashing hero.

The fae creature's words directed him to Atlantis. He’d discovered the city of mermaids long ago, when a mermaid who was particularly fond of him showed him the hidden city. His return to the city in hunt of the treasure revealed that the city hadn’t changed in all the years he’d been in Neverland. It was hauntingly beautiful. Buildings of coral and stone that had been bleached and smoothed by salt over the centuries stood tall. Mermaids were rare - even in the Enchanted Forest - which left the city mostly empty. Since the tides claimed the city every day and revealed it for short hours during the late night, they had to get into the city and search quickly.

They’d found a large fountain in the city centre. Swan statues carved in various positions, as if dancing, were placed on pedestals that held them above the sea water captured in the fountain’s pool. One of the swans captured his eye, it did not appear to be dancing as the others were, it was looking off into the distance. Perhaps trying to decide where to fly to next, maybe looking for its dancing partner, or perhaps just on alert for any potential danger. He was so drawn to that statue, he’d reached out to it.

His hand connected with the swan’s neck and the ground beneath the statue became to rumble. He pulled back as a staircase leading below the fountain was revealed. Once he’d discovered a way into the tunnel, the treasure was his for the taking.

Although the riches were beyond what the stories had foretold, he was most interested in the unassuming black wooden box accented with faded white paint. The brass ring and chain, the bright verdigris of decay. Killian had removed it from the chest prior to loading the treasure aboard the ship, but he had yet to find the courage to open the artefact.

He’d spent well over two months grasping at the hope that his Swan was at the other end of his little adventure. If this magical compass wasn’t all it was rumoured to be, he was out of ideas. The tender flicker of hope that he’d been breathing life into would be lost, with no flint to reignite it.

He pulled it from his coat carefully, before tucking it safely back in the same pocket. He had repeated this several times in the last few moments and an innumerable number of times since removing it from the horde.

“Smee! The finest rum for the crew!" a few of the men whooped and shouted their appreciation for the captain's generosity.

"You keep her true. I am not to be disturbed,” he commanded before disappearing below deck to his quarters.

Once again he pulled the compass from the folds of his coat, his hand shaking and heart drumming on his ribs. He looked at it, closed and sat on his desk for a long moment.

He let out a long sigh in an attempt to steady himself but felt no relief. Scoffing at how a simple wooden box could have such an effect on him, Killian decided he required a generous pour of rum to face his fate.

Killian settled into the chair, drink in hand, and continued to stare at the compass. He took a long sip, that emptied the glass, never shifting his gaze from the bloody thing. He slammed the empty glass to the table - Right, enough of that.

He cracked open the compass, his palm sweaty and hand still unsteady, and peered at the needle.

He let out a relieved laugh when he noted it absolutely did not point North. His heart took off with excited energy that spread through his exhausted limbs, the rumours were true! The compass did not point North, rather it would point to his heart’s desire.

He’d done it!

The needle started to shift and Killian watched it eagerly. Swan was so close, he could almost hear her laugh, feel the heat of her beside him. A foolish grin took over his face, his cheeks aching, as he poured out another glass of rum to celebrate this turn of events. After a sip of rum, he looked back to the compass to see where it has settled.

The needle still shifted wildly, refusing to provide him with a heading. He watched it desperately, stomach dropping. He stood up and paced, suddenly filled with anxious energy, he needed to move. He paced his cabin and closed his eyes. His muscles started shaking with a realisation that Killian refused to accept.

He pictured Swan, Emma, her wavy, golden hair, the deep green eyes that allowed him to read everything she tried to hide, her smile that almost always turned down into a frown, and those warm, soft lips. He held tightly to that image and looked again at the compass. The compass needle continued to spin; the walls erected by the curse too strong to be brought down by an old pirate relic.

For the second time in his long life, Killian Jones crumpled onto the floor of this cabin, tears ripping from him, but this time he did not cling to the body of a lost loved one while he grieved - for even that kindness was denied him. Killian emptied his soul, grieving his lost love and the last flicker of his foolish hope until he fell asleep on the creaking wooden boards.

New York Ten Months

Walsh walked into the flat, coffee in one hand and a bag of bagels in the other.

“Good morning,” Emma beamed. She reached up to kiss his cheek, removing a coffee from the drink carrier and the bag of bagels from his hand.

“You know I like when you surprise me, but what is the occasion?” Emma asked over her shoulder as she crossed over to the table.

Walsh shook his head and smiled a bit sheepishly, “I know that you hate being surprised, but I thought the food would buy me some leniency.”

“It has,” Emma admitted, digging through the bag for an asiago bagel, saving the cinnamon raisin for Henry.

“Happy six months, Emma,” Walsh said from behind her. He pulled her into him, arms wrapping around her waist and pressed a kiss behind her ear.

“Six months, huh?” Emma said, between bites. Had it really been six months? Emma supposed some people found relationship milestones something to be celebrated and this was her longest relationship in over a decade, certainly the most stable boyfriend she could recall having.

“Yes, pet.” Walsh stepped from behind her to sit at the table. “But, we don’t need to do anything special, I was just looking for an excuse to see you this morning.”

They had only made it this far because he was more than willing to step up when she got too busy in her life or Henry’s school assignments make any effort. It also helped that Walsh was always so understanding. When Walsh told her that he loved her last month, her chest has seized completely and she felt the need to run. But, he had quickly grounded her, explaining that he hadn’t expected her to reciprocate, but merely needed her to know that she was loved.

She still hadn’t been able to speak the words “I love you” back to him. She’d playfully hinted that she cared for him; but, those words in that exact order would get stuck on her tongue and something deep in her being felt askew whenever she attempted to speak them. Neal really did some lasting damage.

Fortunately, Walsh didn’t mind her past and was not deterred by her difficulty in meeting him even a quarter of the way in relationship things. It made their relationship comfortable and easy for her.

Even if her soul whispered to her that there should be more to it, more than a quiet acceptance with a touch of indifference.

New York Eleven Months

Water rocked the wooden boards under her feet, the air was salty and crisp, gulls cried in the air, and canvas sails rippled in the wind. Emma was most definitely on a boat. As she turned to take in her surroundings, she noted that this was more like the grand boats that featured in adventure stories and pirate movies that Henry could not get enough of when he was younger, than the sleek yachts or fishing boats she’d seen during her own travels.

She could hear accented words in the air, the voice sounded broken and desperate, “Swan, please?”

She tried to find the source of the words. The male voice was unfamiliar, but so filled with pain, that she was drawn to it, to help in any way she was able.

“Hello? Where are you?” She called, looking for anyone on the boat. She tried to walk, to explore, but the deck seemed to extend with every step she took.

She was determined to reach whoever had called out, no - pleaded, for her, she tried to move faster, eventually breaking out in a sprint. She was finally making progress, getting closer to a set of stairs leading to the ship’s wheel.

“Swan, return to me, love.”

She called out, again. This time waiting for a response, standing still so that her movements would not drown out any response that may come. She listened for a lifetime, holding her breath, waiting for a response.

The only sound that answered was the rhythmic water lapping against the boat.

Day 305

Hook watched as clouds of dark, unnatural purple raced across the sky. Another bloody curse?

“Open the sails, we’re running,” Hook commanded Smee, as he marched quickly to the quarterdeck. Smee shouted out orders, preparing the crew for a hasty escape. Ordered chaos broke out on deck as sails were manoeuvred to best capture the wind that would carry them further out to sea.

As the wind filled her sails, Hook looked back to the coast behind him. The dark magic swirled furiously as the sea battled the curse back. Hook focused his attention back on the till and barked orders to his crew. He would not allow this curse to take the crew or the Jolly Roger from him. He would never give her up without a bloody fight.

She was all he had.

All he would ever have.

TAGGING: @cosette141 @kazoosandfannypacks @kmomof4

#A Year Without #cs ff #killian jones #captain hook #ouat s3 #ouat s3 fanfiction #writes by Jas #fic by Jas

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grailfinders · 2 years

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Fate and Phantasms Viewer's Choice #3: #309, Morgan Le Fay

On the exact opposite side of the equation, we have Morgan le Fay. Where Ophelia has complications in her build due to how little we see her fight, Morgan was tough because of the sheer amount of shit she can pull off. Obviously, I won’t get into details here bc of LB6 spoilers, but… prepare for some fireworks.

Morgan is a Clockwork Soul Sorcerer to make sure everything goes smoothly in her kingdom, and a War Magic Wizard to come back time and time again.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut or her character sheet over here, but be sure to watch out for Lostbelt 6 spoilers! I had to spoil the ending of LB 5 and a big chunk of LB 6 for this build, y’all better appreciate that.

Race and Background

Morgan le Fay is, obviously, a fae, but she’s not small, and making things bigger doesn’t really matter for this build. Instead, we’re going with a Hexblood for +2 Dexterity and +1 Intelligence. That lets you keep your medium size, plus you get an Ancestral Legacy for two skills. Grab proficiency in Insight and Performance. You’ve been stabbed in the back enough to know what to look for, and the whole faerie kingdom is one big play, you just rule it. You get 60’ of Darkvision, and can create an Eerie Token from your body once a day that lasts for a day, letting you send telepathic messages to whoever holds it within 10 miles, and you can also see through the token up to 10 miles away for one minute. Doing the latter destroys the token, but that’s a small price to pay for info. All the lostbelt kings seem to know exactly who we are and where we’re going, yet they keep losing. Ain’t that weird? I’m sure Morgan will be the exception though. On top of all that, you can cast Hex Magic with your Intelligence, casting disguise self and hex once a day for free, or with your spell slots. Cursing her foes and sneaking around are definitely Morgan’s cup of tea.

We’re going with the standard Variant Noble background here, History and Intimidation. You’ve lived through most of recorded history, plus you’re the fucking king of lostbelt 6.

Ability Scores

Once again, we’re power building. Set Constitution, Intelligence, and Charisma at 15, Strength, Dexterity, and Wisdom at 8. You’re a schemer with the kind of longevity that would give Heracles a run for his money, but being a caster and a berserker is a dangerous combination.

Class Levels

Sorcerer 1: As a Clockwork soul, you gain extra Clockwork Magic, either from the list given or replacing one spell a level with any abjuration or transmutation spell from the sorcerer, warlock, or wizard list. We’ll go into detail about what you get when you get it. You can also Restore Balance proficiency times a day, negating advantage or disadvantage on a d20 roll within 60’ of you as a reaction. Faeries love to play tricks, but they don’t work on you. You can cast Spells using your Charisma, and I’m just going to say this here- you have a truly massive spell list, and going through every spell would take ages. So- we’re just covering the highlights in this article. Check the character sheet for a full build. From your clockwork magic, you can Absorb Elements instead of casting Alarm, and you gain Protection from Evil and Good. I know your NP is anti-faerie, but sadly this is the best we can do in 5e. They just don’t have the specificity to target faeries in particular. Anyways, the former lets you cut down on elemental damage and return it as part of your next attack, while the latter gives faeries and other extra-planar beings disadvantage to hit you, and they can’t charm, frighten, or possess you either. That’s the kind of stuff you do to them. Finally, you get more proficiencies. Constitution and Charisma saves, as well as Arcana and Deception. You’re a millenia old mage, and you’re good enough to pull the wool on the other Crypter’s eyes, at least.

Sorcerer 2: A second level sorcerer is a Font of Magic, giving you Sorcery Points equal to your sorcerer level, which you can turn into spell slots or vice-versa. You also pick up the spell Witch Bolt. No fancy reason for it, but damage is damage, and dealing damage while concentrating will be a great boon to you in a bit.

Sorcerer 3: Third level sorcerers get two Metamagic options to gain more control over their sorcery. A twinned spell turns the target of your spell into a voodoo doll of another creature nearby, forcing them under the effects of the same spell. Quickened spells are just good. Turn an action cast spell into a bonus action, with the limitation that you can only cast one leveled spell per turn. For example, quicken a witch bolt, then use your action to activate the current witch bolt for double the damage. For new spells, Aid will give you and your puppets more HP, and instead of Lesser Restoration we’re picking up Alter Self. It’s another disguise, and while the natural weapons and waterbreathing aren’t necessarily canon compliant, I’m pretty confident you could do them if you wanted to.

Wizard 1: Your magic might be innate, but god knows you’ve spent plenty of time honing it. Bouncing over to wizard gets you a second, much larger Spell list, which you prep from and cast using your Intelligence. You also gain an Arcane Recovery, so you can get a couple spell slots back on a short rest once a day. Most faeries are resistant, if not outright immune, to charming effects, but maybe if you Cause Fear, that’ll break through their thick skulls. It forces a wisdom save, and if they fail they’re frightened for up to a minute, though they can reroll the save each turn. That gives them disadvantage on skill checks and attacks while they can see you, can they can’t willingly get closer to you.

Wizard 2: At second level, you specialize in War Magic. Right off the bat, your Arcane Deflection lets you add +2 to your AC or +4 to a saving throw as a reaction, with the caveat that you can’t cast leveled spells for the round. Again, witchbolt is great since it gets around this restriction. You also have a Tactical Wit, adding your intelligence modifier to your initiative rolls. You got the first punch in before we even got to your lostbelt. There’s no way you should have a +0 to initiative. For your spell, Find Familiar is pretty useful. It’s a ritual spell that you can use to get an animal buddy that can’t attack. While it’s within 100’, you can talk to it with your mind, and even see through its eyes. You can even cast touch-range spells through the familiar to extend your reach.

Wizard 3: Third level wizards get second level spells like Magic Weapon, which should help you turn just about any faerie bumpkin into a proper knight of the round table. We’ll get a more thorough transformation later, but shockingly a lostbelt king needs a lot of high level stuff.

Wizard 4: Use this Ability Score Improvement to round out your Constitution and Charisma for some stronger spells and an extra 7 HP this level. Remember, HP scales retroactively! If you need to deliver the entire history of your country in a hurry, try using Encode Thoughts to solidify your memories and pass them on to someone else.

Wizard 5: Fifth level wizards get third level spells, like Bestow Curse. This one’s pretty open ended, but basically it makes a bad thing happen to someone for a certain amount of time, with that time lengthening as you cast with higher spell slots. I think “kill this fool if they can’t pay their existence tax” is a bit much for a third level spell, but it’s a start!

Wizard 6: At sixth level, war mages can invoke a Power Surge when they use a damaging spell. You can store up to Intelligence Modifier surges at a time, always having one at the end of a long rest. You can add one to your repertoire by using counterspell or dispel magic, or by taking a short rest with 0 surges. Once a turn, you can spend a power surge to deal half your wizard level in force damage to a target you damaged with your spell. A +8 by the end of the build isn’t much, but if you’re tearing down a tree of emptiness, every bit counts.

Wizard 7: Seventh level wizards get fourth level spells like Raulothim’s Psychic Lance. TBH we’re mostly picking this because Rhongomyniad is a lance, but it’s still a good damage spell. Name a creature to slap that creature. If they fail an Intelligence save, they take the full slappage, plus they’re incapacitated for a round. Fun fact: exactly 0 fey are immune to incapacitation. In fact damn near nothing is outside of CR 20+ monsters.

Wizard 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Intelligence for better spells. Spells like Control Water, letting you flood areas, part water to keep your dress dry, redirect water to flood the bastards who need flooding, and create whirlpools. It’s a shame none of these options let you create a giant magic storm that can send your mind back in time, but… that’s more of a “level 9” kinda thing.

Wizard 9: Ninth level wizards can Dominate Person, bending the fey to your will with the frightful curse of command spells. ..I’m assuming the “fey” here are also hexbloods- this doesn’t actually work on faeries since they’re not humanoid.

Wizard 10: Tenth level war mages have Durable Magic, giving you a +2 to your AC and all saves while concentrating on spells. That includes your concentration saves, which you already have proficiency on. And you have a +3 from being so dang healthy, so that’s an automatic +10 for a minimum of 11 on every concentration roll. That means you automatically save against any sort of damage unless you get hit by 24 damage or more. And you can use Arcane Deflection here, so that’s actually a minimum of 32 damage. This is Dantes level concentration, and this is just a side benefit! Also, this brings your pitiful AC from a 12 all the way to the dizzying heights of a… 14. Yeesh. For your spell, Enervation is like Witch Bolt but for eating people’s souls. If they fail a dexterity save they take the full damage, and you heal for half the amount they take. Then you can use your action every turn to deal that damage without a save. This isn’t quite the save or die curse you put on the fey who can’t pay their taxes, but it does make you even tankier for basically no reason.

Wizard 11: Eleventh level wizards get sixth level spells like Create Homunculus. It’s a tiny creature that you can feed your hit points into for a limited time boost to its power. I know it’s small right now, but Mordred’s just a baby, cut him some slack.

Wizard 12: Use this ASI to max out your Intelligence. Wizards love that shit. You also get Tenser’s Transformation so you can come back strong from the brink of death. While transformed for up to 10 minutes, you can’t cast spells, but in return you gain 50 temporary HP, have advantage and proficiency with weapon attacks, deal extra damage on a hit, gain proficiency in strength saves, and can attack twice per action. You also have to make a constitution save after the spell ends or you’ll get messed up, but… you have a +13 to a dc 15 save if you use your deflection, so you’re probably gonna make it. The other big issue is that your best melee attacking stat is dexterity, which is a +0. Advantage is good, but it’s not that good.

Wizard 13: Thirteenth level wizards get seventh level spells. If you don’t want all that hullaballoo about temporary HP an actual weapons, Mordenkainen’s Sword might be more your speed. You create a floating sword that hangs out with you for up to a minute, and you can attack with it every bonus action. It says it’s a sword-shaped plane of force, but your weapon shapeshifts, so do what you want with it.

Wizard 14: Fourteenth level war mages have a Deflecting Shroud. Now every time you use Arcane Deflection you can hit up to 3 creatures near you for half your wizard level in force damage. By the end of this that’s 24 free damage per round just for getting hit! You can also make a Simulacrum- it’s basically you, but it can’t regain spell slots, and it has half your HP. You know how we made infinite Osakabehimes to cheese out a paper army? That’s actually a canonical ability Morgan has. We are so fucked.

Wizard 15: Fifteenth level wizards get eighth level spells. The fey love using magic, so put them in their place with an Antimagic Field. Just… just no. Also, you can make Clones now! These can’t be turned into an army like simulacrum, but they’re effectively the best guts in town. It costs 3,000 GP to make one, and it takes 120 days to reach maturity, but after that, you will instantly pop into one of these bad boys when you die. If you’ve killed a high-level wizard, no you haven’t.

Wizard 16: We’re using our last ASI to become a Metamagic Adept for 2 more sorcery points and two more metamagic options. Heightened spell forces disadvantage on a save against a spell you cast. Your best spells only have one save before you wail on them for tons of damage. Also, pick up Distant spell to double a spell’s range. You’ve got to have one hell of an arm on you to hit something in another lostbelt. You can Dominate Monster now. Kind of a waste of an eighth level spell slot, but if you’re dealing with true fey nothing else will do.

Wizard 17: Your final level grants you the ultimate power of ninth level spells. Power Word Kill: Collect enough life energy or die- it’s literally how your taxes work. With True Polymorph, you can now permanently warp a creature’s spirit origin, turning fey of your choosing into knights of the round table. Turning one creature into another is simple: the new form has to have a CR lower or equal to the original form’s CR or its level. It lasts for an hour: if they stay in their form the whole time, it lasts until dispelled. You can also turn objects into creatures CR 9 or lower, or a creature into an object. A death knight is CR 17, and I assume your faerie knights have been leveling up with you, right?

Pros and Cons

Pros:

For a caster, you have ridiculous amounts of HP. You’re still low enough that a particularly dedicated Sanson could get you down in a single turn, but he’d still have to reach you first. Past your massive spell radius, magic-enhanced initiative, advantage-negation, and literal army of yous. But yeah, once all that’s taken care of, you’re in trouble.

The only way your spell list could get more bonkers is wish, and you’re a wizard. That means you can just… copy wish down if you find it. And cast it as much as you want.

One thing I didn’t touch one with true polymorph: Simulacra + Polymorph is dumb. Why? Because Simulacra have the same level as you do. So, you can True Polymorph one into a real-ass copy of you which can regain spell slots, has all your health, and can do the same combo. One Morgan becomes two becomes four, and they all have clone backups. Wizards are stupid powerful.

Cons:

It’s a good thing your concentration saves are fantastic, because your AC is… less spectacular. It’s 14, unless you use your reaction and chance for a leveled spell to raise it to 16. Or use a spell slot for shield. Either way, you’re at a disadvantage. You also have zero ways to heal yourself outside of rests, so once that HP is gone it’s not coming back without a cleric.

It takes a lot of time to build up that infinite army, and also it’s kind of DM fiat as to whether or not that even works. Your great and powerful immortality engine doesn’t come online until level 20, and most campaigns never reach that point. So you’re either playing this character in a campaign that never gets to see level 20, or in a oneshot that won’t give you the time to set up.

Your Concentration is amazing, so of course a lot of your spells capitalize on it. But that also means you can’t cast two of them at the same time. Kind of a rough deal, picking and choosing what you have to get done. Also, quite a few of your spells have limitations requiring your target to stay within range, which can be a problem. If only you knew someone who was really good at slowing people down… ah well.

#fgo #fate grand order #D&D 5e #DND #Morgan le Fay #Wizard #Sorcerer

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algumaideia · 3 years

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The ableism in the Acotar series

I was thinking about all the problematic aspects of the Acotar books, and I realized that they are pretty ableist. I don’t know if someone have already talked about it, but just in case I’ll do it. But before I start, I need to say some things:

1. I haven’t read the series for a while, and I don’t remember some stuff. So, I might write something that is wrong.

2. I’m not disabled myself. This post is based on my research about disabilities and how disabled people are represented in the media. I have a lot of interest in the subject, and I also researched about it because I’m writing a story with several disabled characters. I also did a school project about assistive technologies.

3. English is not my mother language and I’m still learning it. There are gonna be spelling and grammar mistakes. I’m sorry about it, but it is life.

4. I haven’t read the acosf book, so maybe SJM changed the story or some character in this book and therefore my post will be incorrect.

5. Besides the fact that I consider Emerie to be disabled, I won’t talk about her in the post. Because as I said I didn’t read acosf and I think that her appearance in the acofas has the same purpose that the other female Illyrians (since Idk how to write Illyrians this will be write wrong in the entire post, I’m sorry).

6. I forget the name of some characters and I don’t want to search it, so I’ll just give them new names.

Now let’s begin.

I’ll analyze the following characters in this post: Papa Acheron, Lucien, Cassian and Ianthe, the woman from the library and the female Illyrians, the female creature from the forest, the Illyrian soldiers that came back from the war and the girl who couldn’t fly. I think I forgot someone, but patience. In the end of the post I’ll talk about disabilities, ableism and worldbuilding.

I also would like to say that almost all her characters got their disability as a punishment, and the problem with this is that it always links disability with something bad.

Papa Acheron:

As I said Papa Acheron got his disability as a punishment, since he didn’t pay his debts, some people went in this house and broke his leg. I might be wrong, but I think that it didn’t healed well and because of that he has chronic pain. So, to better analyze him I’ll compare him to two other characters with chronic pain, Kaz Brekker and Melissa, one of my main characters.

Papa Acheron became useless after he became disabled. He thought he was useless and by extension Feyre thought it too. I’m not saying that internalized ableism doesn’t exist, but the narrative never calls it out. Feyre accepts this excuse, it is kind of implied that if he weren’t disabled, he would be able to help his family and get money. Now let’s look to Kaz (I haven’t read the second book of the duology, please no spoilers). He accepts his disability, not only that but he uses his cane as one of his symbols. He goes against the idea that a disabled person is stuck with a cane or a wheelchair or whatever. He feels free with his cane. Now, this doesn’t mean that every disabled character needs to feel okay with his disability. My character, Melissa, feels a lot of anger because of her chronic pain. It hurts her, it disrupts her plans, it makes her suffer. However, it didn’t stop her to live her life and she also is not seeking anyone’s pity, which is very different from the Papa Acheron situation. Mel has friends, a social life, she studies, she will have a job, she will date, get married and have children. She doesn’t feel mad because she is disabled, she is also autistic, and she loves that part of herself. What bothers her is that her disability makes her feels a lot of pain. Papa Acheron is just someone to you feel bad and angry about. He doesn’t do anything because he is disabled and believes that this makes his useless and the narrative kind of agrees with him.

Lucien:

Lucien doesn’t have one eye, and that’s what makes him disabled. He became disabled as a punishment for falling in love with a lesser fae and not only that, but he is only without his mechanic/magic eye when he is on his worse. He was without his eye when his family was torturing and banishing him. And then when he was UTM. Again, disability being connected with bad things. Now about his mechanic eye. The first time that Feyre describes his eye she says it is creepy. Which is bad. But also, why it had to be magic and give him the ability to see spells or something like that (this was never brought back btw)? Why can’t he have a normal mechanical eye? Why he needs a mechanical eye? Why does his mechanical eye need to compensate the fact he is disabled? He is as much complete with and without his eye.

Cassin and Ianthe:

I put this two together for one reason, their disabilities were cured. I’ll talk about Cassian first. When they invaded Hybrein (I also don’t know how to write the name of the country) they hurt his wings badly. And considering that to Illyrians the wings are as much a limb as an arm or a leg, he was disabled for a while. (I’m aware that to something be considered a disability it needs to be long lasting. But I think that the fact that it was cured is ableist, if I’m not wrong the text said it was a miracle he was healed.)Then we had Cassian in the floor with his wings all damaged, suffering a lot, what a horrible scene. But don’t worry! The next time he’ll appear completely cured, because being disabled is such a horrible thing and SJM never used deus ex machina to save her characters. So, this injured made him disabled for a while, and it could be interesting. The wings are the Illyrian symbol, the symbol of their toxic masculinity and their sexism. Cassian being disabled because of his wings would make him revalue his culture and his own idea of masculinity and it would be so amazing. But he was cured. I think that this makes Cassian falls in the disabled for one day trope. Just like Ianthe. First the way she became disabled was disgusting. Feyre invading her mind was such a horrible thing to do. I’m not denying that Ianthe is a terrible person/fae but that doesn’t change the fact that it was a horrible scene. I really dislike characters with telepathic powers, because for me their powers are crossing a line. They invade and control someone’s mind. They take off the person free will. They basically turn the person in a robot. If I remember correctly when Feyre made Ianthe broke her hand it was with the purpose to make it useless. And when she appeared again in all her glory she was, surprise, surprise, cured.

The woman from the library and the female Illyrians:

I put they together because their disabilities are used for the same two purposes. The first is that they became disabled as a punishment for being female, and the second it to show how FEMINIST Rhysand is. He isn’t feminist, so all these women suffered for nothing. Again, disability being linked with bad things. The symbol of the female Illyrians suffering is they becoming disabled. NOT GOOD AT ALL. About the woman from the library, she was there to also show how good Feyre is. She is there so we can feel pity of her. She didn’t deserve it.

The female creature who couldn’t see:

My problem with her is that it is implied/said that she has better senses because she is blind. And that’s not how it works?? People just pay more attention in what they hear, touch or smell when they are blind/visually impaired.

The girl who couldn’t fly:

I'm gonna call her Anna. First Anna is like the only character who just have a disability. No trauma, no war, no punishment. She just has. Then she is a great disabled character, right? Wrong. She has inspirational porn written all over her story. She is there to make Feyre feel better about herself and make other abled people/fae feel inspired. She is there so we can say: ohhh poor thing, but at least she overcame her disability and now can fly. So ableist. Anna is also only valued after proving herself useful. That is wrong. Disabled people should be valued because they are people. They don’t need to be amazing in anything to be treated with respect.

The Illyrian soldiers:

My problem with them is how their disability is used to reinforce sexism and make Cassian and Rhysand feel bad. But what about the Illyrian soldiers? How are they feeling? It seems this is not important. They also bother me because of worldbuilding questions.

Disabilities, ableism and worldbuilding:

First, why humans and fae feel the same about disabled people? Feyre has the same opinion the IC have. And the humans and fae were separated for 500 years. This doesn’t make sense. Every court think the same thing about disabled fae? Does something change if the disabled fae is a lesser or a higher fae? It should make a difference. A real world example of how social class affects the way disabled people are treated: the first school for deaf people created only taught children of the nobles.

And why the way people look to disabled fae didn’t change after the war? What about the assistive technology? You know what, it is unrealistic the fact that we don’t have any assistive technology in this world. But this happen in the antient times, how could there be any assistive technology? First, assistive technology is everything that helps a disabled person, a cane, a screen reader, a scooter. Everything can be an assistive technology. Second, assistive technologies exist since the antiente times. One of the oldest prothesis were found in a mummy. There is a painting of Hephaestus using a wheelchair. And considering that this series happens in what was supposed to be the Middle ages, it was supposed to have assistive technologies. Wheelchairs during this time were heavy and the user couldn’t use it by himself, but they existed. There are records of a king using a wheelchair during the middle ages. And I mean with the war something was supposed to change. The first place to blind people in the France was created because 300 soldiers came back from the crusades without their eyes. It was in the century 20 that disabled people started to be more included in the society. And one of the reasons were the soldiers that came back from WW1 and WW2 disabled. Not only that but in war times the technology improves, so a lot of new assistive technologies and materials were created during this time. The first record of guide dogs comes from 1819 in school in Vienna, but it didn’t work. Only after WW1 that guide dogs appeared again. And you know with what purpose? Help veterans that were blind due to the war. Braille was a system used for the French army during battles. Louis Braille only made it simpler. The war should change something.

Why is the world ableist? The excuse that this is an antient society doesn’t work my friend. The Egypt was a very including country. Blind people could be part of any social class. Dwarfs were part of the society since they had a dwarf god. In antient Japan blind people were expected to be independent. They could work with music, religion, telling stories etc. And the work of telling stories was very important since it made the Japanese tradition to continue. The excuse that this is an antient society is just this, an excuse. Now she could have used to say something. Leigh Bardugo used the ableism of her world to criticize the ableism of our world. I’m doing the same thing with my story. SJM made an ableist world just because.

That was my analysis. I’m sorry this was very long. I know this was a little confusing, but it was very difficult to put all the stuff that was in my mind in text. In my mind everythig made sense, but when I was writing it I realized I wasn’t following a logical argument. If that makes sense. Anyway, thank you for reading it.

If you read the books and realized I wrote something wrong, please tell me. If you are disabled and think I said something offensive, I’d love to hear you. If you are non-disabled and want to comment and give your opinion, feel free. And if you don’t want to comment, don’t do it. You can do whatever you want.

Best regards,

Me.

Ps. This is my first post in Tumblr, so I don’t know if I tagged it right, if you want to help, I would be really grateful.

#anti sjm #sjm critical #anti rhysand #anti feyre #anti acotar #anti acowar #anti acomaf #ableism #six of crows #kaz brekker #disablity representation #disabled characters #lucien vanserra #cassian

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kara-knuckles · 3 years

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The announcement of GudaGuda 5 rerun with Case Files still being in Limbo reinforces my theory that they are waiting for the second season, which was supposed to be ready earlier, but got screwed by Covid. And the reason they will wait for the anime is because they plan to add a character from the next arc as a limited Servant.

I think there are currently four candidates in Case Files series that can be used in FGO without being a Pseudo-Servant shoehorn (or, well, two of them can be pseudos, but they actually have reasons for that).

I consider Ergo the least likely option, because a). he is too recent and we know it takes a long time to create a Servant; b). not all identities of the Gods inside of him are known, which also means that c). our knowledge of his abilities is limited; and d). unlike Meteo, Sanda isn't a part of FGO regular writting team, so his series doesn't have the same benefits as Requiem.

Faker somewhat has the same problem in that the anime watchers won't know the full scope of her powers until the last arc. However, her series is finished and she is female, so I can see her being implemented... But that won't explain the rerun delay, unless they plan to make her a Pretender (I doubt that) and the reason we haven't gotten the rerun is due to Avalon Le Fae.

My second most likely guess is actually something I have been joking for a while about, namely Zepia as an Oberon pseudo. "But we just got Oberon!", no, hear me out. First of all, the Oberon we got isn't quite the actual Oberon. Of course, the writers may pull some retroactive bullshit, but let's not think about it right now. Next, Case Files Material teases some sort of connection between Zepia and Oberon. He took the name of the fairy king, and it is specifically pointed out that this is a serious business in the world of magecraft. You know where else the same plot point plays a major role? In Lostbelt 6, with Vortigern. Finally, there is the last Servant teased back in February, whose silhouette looks suspiciously like Zepia. So, if we presume that Zepia is being added, the delay is easily explained because you need Avalon Le Fae to be out to know the other Oberon, the Atlas arc of Case Files to be announced to know he is a part of that series, and, hell, you can even speculate that he will be a DLC in Melty Blood and there will be some lore tying Fate and Tsukihime backstories together, somehow. No wonder they would delay things so much, it's like waiting for the stars to align! "But why would we need two Oberons in the first place?" Because it would be funny to get two Oberons who aren't actually Oberons, and we all know that the jokes are the deepest lore.

But, of course, the most likely option at this point is Kay. He is already mentioned several times in FGO, and they could have recorded his lines alongside Add's. I always thought that he would be less likely to appear than Faker, but, as I mentioned before, with the current situation he seems to fit the bill the most.

Now watch the new Servant actually be the Corpse King...

And here is a bit of a bonus speculation that is more like wishful thinking on my part. You know how the past Halloween events are presented as something like flashbacks in the current one? It will be really cool if Mnemosyne is used as a framing device to rerun Case Files alongside some other events (Accel Zero Order and Da Vinci's event would probably make the most sense).

#Fate/Grand Order #Lord El-Melloi II Case Files #Zepia Eltnam Oberon #Sir Kay (Fate)#Faker (Fate)#Ergo (Fate)#theories and headcanons #typing and tagging on mobile is hell

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kcnnarys · 2 years

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what would your ranking be of the upcoming 5 vip books we know about, in how interested you are in them?

oh this is a good one .... hm let me think for a second .... it's tricky bc as far as i know we don't have descriptions for everything yet so im just kind of basing on titles and initial art

1. muder at homecoming - most of y'all know i love a mystery/thriller and also if we play as a detective that i fall victim to interactive story copaganda extremely easily so this one has to take top spot methinks.

2. guinevere - this one is very much subject to change but i am just intrigued by the name of this. it is soooo different than any other series so im excited to see what that's about. a risky move putting this here but it's not set in stone just a first thoughts kind of thing

3. immortal desires LET ME SPEAK FOR A MOMENT .... so this one sounds so sexy and i think it has a lot of potential in the name and the initial logo design. however know thyself and i know that while i adore a vampire romance i don't have a good track record for enjoying vampire romance stories on any interactive story app. so she could very easily go #1 if im impressed but we have yet to see. kind of bored of good guy vampires but i will not pass any judgement just yet.

4. the phantom agent um spy book i guess? im very indifferent atm. could be a lot of fun but also could very easily be a flop i fear so for now im leaving it towards the bottom.

5. cursed heart - HOLD UP LET ME SAY THIS. the cover is sooooo gorgeous it's unreal i have heart palpitations just thinking about it and if we can romance someone a little evil then this will go straight to the top. but i am pretty indifferent towards the idea of a fae book so i will be waiting for my attention to be caught and wait for my vip mutuals takes to get excited about that one

#im still waiting for my witch coven book but this will do for now. tbh i think it is a pretty good looking line up and im hopeful that they #will all turn out to be slays so i will be waiting for that.#asks #anon

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princessofmerchants · 3 years

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Thoughts on A Court of Frost and Starlight, Chapter 5: Feyre — Menstrual Cycles and Ruthless Rhysand (not in a good way)

(I’m recording my thoughts on each chapter of ACOFAS ahead of ACOSF. This is my third time reading ACOFAS. The rest can be found here.)

This is a long one folks. Buckle up...

So this is where we learn about the Fae menstrual cycle. Some important tidbits here while in Feyre's POV: Feyre describes the immense pain that accompanies it, more than a human cycle. We also learn (through her reflective thoughts) that she shared about what a Fae period is like with both of her sisters. Nesta and Elain are approaching six months since being Made. I forget if it's confirmed later in this book or in the teaser of the next, but I am assuming that Nesta's lack of healthy care for her body including not eating enough leads to a delay in the onset of her first cycle.

But other things that will matter when we get to ACOSF and likely her first period: Feyre says inside her thoughts here that she won't let Nesta face the pain and agony of this experience alone. That signals that maybe an occasion for Nesta and Feyre to have scenes together (and perhaps make progress toward bridging the distance between them) will be when Nesta starts her period. I wouldn't be surprised if Feyre instructs Cassian to send word when it happens.

Also, Feyre mentions Elain and Lucien in the context of sharing a mating bond (neutral though they are regarding it), and how she can't imagine Elain being impolite to Lucien and sending him away when she has her first period if he wants to help (in whatever way makes sense for them). Feyre also notes Rhys's hands-on, mother hen approach to helping her through hers. I'm surmising here that there is an instinct that kicks in for a mated male who is mated to a female who is on her cycle. It feels implied anyway.

So, yea, Cassian will likely also be involved, I'm thinking, when Nesta eventually gets hers... I wonder if we'll get to see those instincts in action firsthand.

The other thing about this chapter is Rhys. Rhys Rhys Rhys. This is when he says "Elain is Elain" while "Nesta is...Nesta" and because of that he finds it hard to forgive Nesta for what he percieves as her poor, ongoing behavior towards Feyre.

But Feyre says, which is so important IMO: “She more than made up for it this summer, Rhys.” And then a moment later she says: “They’re my family. You have to forgive Nesta at some point.” This tells me that because Feyre and Rhys are such a unified partnership and couple, I believe his feelings rub off on her actions way more than I initially realized. Feyre has forgiven Nesta. I find it the height of arrogance that her mate cannot also forgive Nesta, and Lucien for that matter, for his mate whom he loves.

I definitely see a version of Rhys in this book that disappoints me so much. He says: “I cannot forgive anyone who made you suffer.” He idolizes Feyre in a way where he is damaging other relationships in their life because of it. I don't like it. I don't know to what extent we will see this blatant (and harmful, when considering the damage to relationships around him) ruthlessness of his addressed, with him learning from someone (I would love it to be Cassian but it will probably be Feyre) that it's unacceptable in the current form it takes, and him taking that to heart and doing the work to fix his attitude and biases. It's such a tall order for this next book to accomplish, in addition to the things I hope will happen with Nessian, Nesta's healing, and Nesta and her sisters, not to mention that pesky thing called plot (lol).

I love the Rhysand we meet in ACOMAF. I will be sad if this ACOFAS version of him is the last and final version we get to interact with. And that doesn't mean I want more Feysand books: no thank you there, they have their arc, it's epic, they don't need to star in any more stories. I just hope SJM weaves Rhys mellowing out under the good, and hopefully in the future more assertive influence of his better half, and atoning for his hard line against some of the worthy people in his orbit (Nesta and Lucien), into the upcoming stories where appropriate, including possibly ACOSF.

(And yes, I'm aware and fully acknowledge that just about every one of them has something to atone for; in my commentary on this chapter, I'm focusing on Rhys. There are plenty of other opportunities when they come up in the text to comment on other characters' poor treatment of others. And I don't view poor treatment as a zero sum game where because you treat me poorly it gives me leave to treat you poorly. It's just not how emotionally and mentally healthy relationships to each other and the world work. I'd like to see Rhys learn this someday. He has a lot of power, both magically and in terms of social capital in this family the sisters find themselves a part of, and with that power comes responsibility to model healthy and functional ways of moving through the world, which is maybe why I feel inclined to challenge Rhys on this aspect of his choices and beliefs.)

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prettywarriors · 3 years

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Fate The Winx Commentary

Good morning internet! Today is the drop of Winx: Riverdale edition! I sure hope you're ready for my aggressive and unnecessary commentary, because it is coming for you either way!

The netflix landing page lets us know:

Fate The Winx Saga

6 episodes, 48-53 minutes each

"Genres: Fantasy TV Shows, Teen TV Shows, Italian TV Shows"

"This show is: Emotional"

As mentioned elsewhere, my Winx knowledge is limited, so I will be coming into this fairly fresh and will try to be unbiased. As I have seen trailers, the keyword here is Try.

Episode 1

'To the Waters and the Wild'

CW: Animal Death, Swears, Implied Child Death, Blood, Implied Teen Sex, Burns, Weed, Fatphobia, Whatever the term pussie falls under

Episode 1 TL;DR: We meet everyone, learn their dynamics, have the basics of the magic system beat into us, meet our monsters, and name drop Harry Potter. Standard first episode stuff.

I do want it on record before we start that I got about halfway into the first season of Riverdale, and the first season of Netflix Sabrina. They were, well, bland and boring imo? I did get through a few seasons of Teen Wolf, but that's because it was capable of Fun and Jokes. My current expectations are a few unintentionally funny lines, maybe some almost decent magic effects, and because it's 2021, one whole gay character (I did hear one of the boys (there are boys?) is bi, but also an asshole so I'm hoping for some wlw)

TV-MA LANGUAGE AND SMOKING OH FUCKING BOY Almost full moon (waxing) in opening shot- I Will be tracking moon inconsistencies if it keeps showing up that is a pet peeve but hey look a bunch of sheep That's a good start (it's ominous though. don't hurt the sheep) Swears count: Feckin' 2 Mystical portal barrier. Oh yeah s5 of the magicians is on netflix now WELP THOSE ARE SHEEP GUTS RIGHT OUT THE GATE HUH For CW it's up a tree, and the dripping blood is a good warning of what's about to be seen :( oh and then the man who was looking for the sheep dies offscreen save for a spray of blood. THIS ISN'T YOUR CHILD'S WINX CLUB it seems to say. I assume. How much blood was in the original winx because this is already at least a full cup. (Also the monster noises for whatever was chasing the man (werewolf it was a werewolf trailers are bad guys) were not very good)

Opening credit scene is 5-6 different blooming elemental wings. They're pretty, but it's unclear if the last one is secret 6th member wings (because the second to last ones are fire which is the main character's element right?) so maybe we'll get a late 6th addition? (I am in I.T. please give me the most relatable character you cowards)

KIDS IN THE CORNER BY AMBER VAN DAY PLAYING I like where they shot this but that might just be european woods pretty. The opening location was nice and mossy save for the sheep blood Fancy big stone school establishing shots (it's nice, and huge) and we land on a red head who seems less than pleased to be here Courtyard shot of... whatever the name of the replacment plant girl is, holding a tray of various potted plants for an older man (father? first day of school send off maybe?) Aisha(?) walks by, not talking to anyone, Stella(?) is taking Magical!Selfies with at least 3 other girls, Musa(?) has a suitcase and headphones and smiles at a passing girl Oh boy a boy with a pocketknife doing little tricks with it! Nothing says edgy like an actual knife edge. Gonna take this moment to point out I have some level of face blindness and while the girls all look fairly different from one another, if there is more than one tall blonde white boy as I fear there may be, I WILL NOT be able to tell them apart. Not through maliciousness, just general incompetence, so anything I say about the boy characters (I want to say they're the knights to the girl's faeries? is that right? this whole thing smacks of gender) should be taken with a heap of salt I've come to accept tv just. displaying text messages on screen as a storytelling method. It's never my favorite but it just Is a modern story element. Also Bloom needs to meet stella at the alfea gates Alfea I presume is the school- does the name mean something? It sure feels like the word elf and therefore fae but I don't feel like googling anything this early in Oh look two more blondish tall white boys. Pocketknife was wearing something else i think, one guy has a brown jacket and pink shirt (bad combo), the other looks old even by tv highschool/college standards and his jacket has a jock vibe. Jock jacket also has an earring? Is this the bi character who is an asshole? From this one second of him, only in profile, I will assume yes, he is an asshole I like Bloom's backpack Pink shirt looks at Bloom from across the quad. I am already tired of this romance Cool he walks up to someone he has identified as lost, and is 'impressed with [her] confidence in the face of complete ignorance' COMING OUT OF THE GATE WITH A NEGG HUH PINKY He even states he wasn't offering help Then Why Are You Talking To Her Jackass Subs are going with the fairy spelling, and Bloom confirms she is a fairy and we confirm this is College. Unless this is a european thing where they call schools different things. I think that's just for public and private? And maybe just england? I'm American all they teach us is 1492-ww1 over and over for like. 10 years sorry Rest of the World 'What Realm are you from?' 'California' Speaking of ameri-centric, I'm gonna Guess that original Winx, the italian cartoon, didn't have their main character be from cali usa? I am presuming this is a side effect of making this property for a more global distribution than I'm guessing winx was originally conceived as back in the early 00s The Otherworld. I assume this is the fairy realm and whatnot? And the magic school. Seems to be located behind a magical barrier in the earth realm?? If that's right it seems weird if basically everyone who goes to the school is from the otherworld Pinky doubles down on his rudeness but in a Fun and Cute way because :/ and the Specialist hall is Very Pretty, oh and there's a fairy hall. Are specialists the boy...things? magi knights? bros of the blade? guys who wear those 'here come a special boy' sneakers from that one comic? Stella sees this conversation which is great because they drop the term mansplain. why would otherworlders know that term even??? Edgey(?) sees Pinky and they hug it out Stella knows Americans are the type to wander off so I guess there's a lot of inter-world connections?

Miss Dowling- is this teacher going to be like the pedo in riverdale who got *checks notes* killed off by one of multiple serial killers later on? Dowling is the headmistress, gotta keep the otherworld a secret from earthers, time and place for portal making. all standard fantasy stuff so far, nothing to make this stand out Stella has a gateway ring, and frankly isn't too nice? all the backgrounders clothing is Bland and very normal 7 realms of the otherworld, Solaria is where Alfea is, i like magic globe Incase you forgot this was a modern tale, people update their insta stories here. 'I was kindof bummed I didn't see a single pair of wings' YOU AND ME BOTH BLOOM 'We had wings in the past, transformation was lost, tinkerbell was an air fairy' This is either a cop out for your glittery cowardice, or a set up for the main girls re-finding transformation magic later. I did like the Tink bit Bloom is a fire fairy and the subtext of this conversation is that bloom's magic did Something bad. I hope it was burn down her old school's gym a la buffy movie I like miss Dowling but in the I wouldn't Be Surprised if you turned out to be Evil way, and I guess Alfea is a very privileged upper crust school. What types of college do normal fairies go to then huh? damn privileged fairies 'our students have gone on to do amazing things like re-discover long lost magics' We Get It. You will give me Wings, but Only If I'm Patient Dowling throws a jab at Bloom about power control, but I like her necklace so It's Fine

Bloom video calls her parents while unpacking in the dorm, which may have come pre-fit with a heck ton of board games? Love it. Or new plant girl brought them along with her many plants Stella has a fancy mirror and lots of jewelry and fashion photos and makeup, Musa has a laptop and apparently not much else, gotta get those establishing personalities down I guess 'Ladies of the Flies honey don't be sexist' Bloom's dad for feminist of the year (these jokes are bad but i guess we can call it a dad joke as justification) Asiha gives Bloom a look and saves her from the call with her parents- yay friendship step one achieved Blooms parents think she's in the alps because magic secrets and what not Aisha asks bloom if she's never read harry potter and I guess Bloom is a potterhead (that's the term right?). Is this self awareness that all magical school fantasy series have the same basic bricks? Bloom is a ravenclaw sometimes slytherin, Aisha is a Gryffindor Stella is changing because she's the fashion one and has a fun pastel rainbow skirt, and uses magic to make a real aggressive lamp. She's also a mentor (maybe older than the others by a bit?) I am assuming Stella here is something along the lines of a diplomats daughter the way she talks about appearances. She better get down and dirty later on to show her growth about how some things are more important than looks yada yada Fairy magic powered by strong emotions, i am waiting for bloom's backstory to be movie x-men rogue style tragedy Terra! Which. Of course is the Plant Fairy's name. Stella is a little mean to her about the plants and she takes it with a smile and some subtle snark back using classic literature Oh that's fun Terra points out the name-plant thing, and name drops her cousin Flora. That's. The one they replaced with Terra right? Terra's dad works in the greenhouse at the school which explains earlier (and her mum is named rose) Stella is indeed a second year and Musa's eyes change for. Lie detecting magic? and loves her headphones (Overstimulation?) Aisha wants somewhere to swim and we cut to a 'pond' by specialist training. Assuming she wants to sim because she's a water fairy, why Don't they have a pool? also this pond looks. Unpleasant for swimming

Girl specialist! Does that mean we have boy fairies? Boys. Fighting. Talking about girls. All gingers are nuts. Thanks edgelord AMAZING SHAGS THOUGH 'I didn't realize your hand was a red-head' it's not truly edge if we don't talk about sex every 10 minutes Subtitles earlier only said boy 1 boy 2 but now pinky or edgy is Riv Edgy smokes weed, and pinky is a big brother figure to him, and the head? of the special boys doesn't like edgy. Me neither older guy Bit of swordplay, more girls, every specialist has black training outfits, very military Pinky is Sky who is son of Guy of Place. an important lad. without context this is meaningless to me There's a giggly boy who laughs at the idea of a war in the future and gets a talking to. I suspect this boy will be re-occurring enough to die- he has those tertiary character elements with his intro and such (and he's black so I am prepared for your standard racist murder choices) Burned Ones exist outside the barrier, which makes me wonder if dead shepard was in the otherworld? There was nothing establishing that he was in any type of Other place but :/ Oh look edgey is having a smoke cross the barrier while we learn about the creatures that live beyond it. Time to find out these creatures no one young has ever seen are still kicking Specialist leader had to kill his own pa after a burned one got him. They also. Used a shotgun when trying to fight it. Do specialists even have powers or are they just good with weapons? Edgey finds the shepards corpse. Mostly blood 'it's been 16 years since the last sighting' 'Rosalind killed all the burned ones' ahh magical creature genocide hey when is abarat 4 coming out. and is rosalind hot?

School, gossip, Aisha and Musa are snarking at Tera for thinking the guy died of natural causes because we need to have these characters not actually like each other to make it stand out when they do Aisha talks about how she eats a lot and if she didn't swim she'd be massive and we cut to the plus sized tera looking uncomfortable are we really doing this? Tera points out that Musa was ignoring her earlier and it's all just uncomfortable and not great character conflict (but I thought I saw Musa holding an honest to god ipod? it's blue but it could be a phone case. Her hand is in the way) tera and dad interaction is nice, i'm also convinced they couldn't afford more than 3 magic adults

Girl with braids and metal in her hair! There were witches in winx right? Like 3 minor antagonist girls? I assume this is one of them. Because she has alternative fashion and is therefore evil /s Beatrix. Names in this series leave something to be desired (that something is subtly. I get it, they're carry overs from a series for a younger audience, she-ra had the same issue, but i can still poke fun) Swear count: Arsehole 2 Bollocks 1 Shit 1 She's a weird ass kissing with clearly ulterior motives

Bloom is Studying and her notebook is just FAIRY MAGIC POWER = EMOTIONS LOVE FEAR? HARTED? FIRE FAIRY CONTROL? in case you weren't paying attention Oh a flashback already to the magic triggering event? Her mother had pointed out she's an introvert, and past!Bloom doesn't Party. She goes Antiquing and is a Weird Loner (her 'basic bitch' of a mom's words) Swear count: Bitch 1 Bad daughter count: 1 Bad mother count: 1 Magic glowy eyes for Bloom: 1

Bloom Hates Parties and asks Pinky I mean Sky where she can be Away from People and he fears he'll be Mansplaing to her to. vague that it's dangerous outside instead of saying 'hey there's monsters and someone was just killed by possible one of them stay in the barrier' Stella wants to talk to Sky because they have History. I did hear there was a love triangle between these three. I am bored and everyone at this party is a nosey bitch who is watching their tense conversation. Also Something? Happens when Stella gets upset [mystical warbling] Random magic effects in the (very pretty) forest Bloom is trying to practice her magic on her own, and to do that she's gotta look at sad teen pics. And look, her burnt bedroom from her first power usage The fire magic is pretty good. I think fire is like. the opposite of water when it comes to cg where it almost always looks pretty good, while I swear i've seen the actual ocean look like a shitty render Magic out of control, bloom can't control her emotions, Aisha can stop her with water magic which makes some nice steam Bloom is angry at aisha for saving her. So far 3 of the 5 girls are abrasive at best remember when people made characters likeable? Swear count: Shit 1 (but it doubles as the literal meaning because of flooded toilets) Swear count: Bitch 1 Ass 1 Taking away your teen's door is. Really shitty. Not almost burn down your house worthy but damn cheerleader mom I do not understand sleep shirts with buttons. That seems painful if you lie the wrong way? Her mom was seriously burnt by first magic usage that's a backstory Shit count +1 Main character aspect time: dormant fairy blood line? awfully strong magic for that. baby who died day after it was born and now she's here? ...I was going to say changeling thanks aisha A Barbaric practice loving hints at long term world lore Hell is a bad word for kids!! Cutting to headmistress and her secret passage after finding out bloom is secret pureblood? this really is a harry potter thing

edgelord offers giggly some booze, and says pussies twice because he's Edgey and does peer pressure Tera calls him out and knows he's a sad nerd in disguise not a 'badass' and he says she's 'three people in disguise' because fatphobia shit +1 arehole +1 tera. chokes out edgelord with a vine because she's had enough of this shit. good for her edgelord is Riv, and he lived

OBLIGATORY GOOGLE SEARCH FOR THE TERM CHANGELING REMEMBER BELLA'S VAMPIRE GOOGLE GOD I LOVE TEEN FANTASY AND THEIR INSTANCE ON GOOGLING COMMON FANTASY TERMS OH hey the lamp bloom brought with her is the one she was fixing at home that's a nice touch Stella bonds with Bloom about homesickness, and the takes a selfie Musa is a mind fairy. So she. Is a telepath with purple eye magic? Oh there's types of 'connections' Memory, thought (others but i am cut off from the lore) Stella did Something to someone who Talked To Her Man last year and now lent Bloom her teleportation ring to send her some because miss mentor really cares more about her shitty man then helping the girls she's in charge of First World- earth Old Cemetery? Very Sexy. and bloom sweetie don't leave a mystical gateway open, and how will you explain to your parents how you're back so fast Wait she's only 16? SO this really is some european college where that's a funny way of saying High School Fire guilt, bad feelings about life shattering revelations, better connection with mother. I gotta say I have low expectations of this show carrying the family connection through the rest of this. That conversation felt more like a Hey We Made These Movements Onto Other Stuff Now

Lighting choices are interesting, with green, orange and purple for creepy warehouse. THE Creepy Warehouse where she would sleep without her parent's knowledge wow right that GIRL DROPS THE DAMN RING AT THE FIRST SIGN OF burned one looked more alien than werewolf-y here Decent Horror movie looks, and dude stole her ring. Rude. Saved by the headmistress, and tera/aisha/musa are here to great her Stella can't be here though because she has to greet a half naked freshly showered sky because life is suffering and producers insist people like to see teens half naked (who. Who?) shit +1 and she dumped him. pity part of one and using it to try to get your bone on. HEY A SONG I KNOW. IT'S WHATSITCALLED FROM THE BAYONETTA COMMERCIALS WAY BACK WHEN. in for the kill la roux. I do wish netflix would either commit to telling you what song was playing or didn't tell you at all

Riv offers Beatrix a hit from his joint because what Is a Bad Kid hasn't changed in like 70 years Blowing pot smoke into someone's mouth isn't as sexy as ya'll seem to think it is Musa has cute sleep socks with little pom poms, and I love Tera's floral jammies Tera offers a bluetooth speaker so they can listen to music together Musa also calls out Tera's fake happiness this is the good shit character interaction i live for Musa Empath Mind Fairy 'somber indie music'

If you kill a burned one in the human world Something? Extra bad happens? So the headmistress knows Bloom's a changeling, and ohhh that's the last time a burned one was spotted. Is Rosalind the famed Monster Slayer the birth mother of Bloom? Tera text flirts with Giggly who IS NAMED DANE and has a thing for. Sky? Riv? I told you these boys all look the same to me so if it's a half naked pic on fairy insta i'm out of context clues. Crymeariv is the insta name that answers that. Is this the slow burn enemies to lover mlm i can't finish this sentence i don't care riv is a dick Stella and Sky are in a bed and she doesn't seem to have a top on so Implied sexy times? MYSTERIOUS HOODED AND ROBED FIGURE CROSSES THROUGH THE BARRIAR AND SHOOTS THE BURNED ONE WITH LIGHTNING MAGIC OH IT'S beatrix

alt-J – Adeline as an ending song

#fate the winx saga #text #commentary #hey tumblr thanks for deleting all my text because I resized this window #we're off to a great start #fate episode 1

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first-and-last-neocount · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 7

Round seven of “let’s make up reasons for Damien to be Even More Fucking Miserable” will now commence! *ding, ding*

Seriously though, posting these to Tumblr is making me realize just how imbalanced this whole thing is. Day 2 is really the only one so far that focused on Gerald as the whumpee, and Day 3 was kinda aimed at Jenseny, but the rest of this is just the Damien Vryce Suffering Fest 2021. I don’t think that’s changing any time soon, either. XD

This is another Escape!AU fic, set in the gap between Day 4 and Day 5. I am aware that this is most likely not how hysterical blindness works, but since actual medical doctors can’t really explain that one yet, I’m taking my artistic license where I like. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Day 7 - Theme Chosen: Blindness

The quake came the second night after they fled the Forest.

They had ridden that first night until dawn forced them to take shelter, taking advantage of the Crusade's preoccupation with the Forest to beat them back to Jaggonath; despite the fact that Damien was seriously pushing the limits of his very human stamina, and Gerald was still profoundly shaken from his newfound freedom from his pact with the Unnamed and their brush with death in the Forest, there were things they needed from that city and it would never be safer to return than when the majority of the Church's warriors were elsewhere.

After years of working with Karril and Ciani, Senzei had accumulated more notes than any other living human on the nature of the Iezu. Though they had salvaged all they could from the Hunter's Keep, it wouldn't be enough on its own, and no one else knew the significance of what Senzei might have recorded. The sorcerer's notes would be an invaluable addition to the knowledge base of their own work, trying to bridge the gap between the Iezu and humanity, and this was the best chance they had to get them.

They were still travelling at night; though sunlight was no longer fatal for Gerald, his powers still drew primarily upon the dark fae, and the deluge of the solar fae was enough to seriously impede or even cripple his Workings. Knowing that discovery of their survival would launch a manhunt across most of colonized Erna, neither he nor Damien were keen to push their luck during that time of weakness, so they maintained their nocturnal schedule and quite literally went to ground while the sun was in the sky. They emerged from the cave that Gerald had located for their shelter shortly after sundown the next evening, and the Core stars were still glimmering soft gold at the horizon when Damien paused halfway through saddling his horse.

He was still getting used to his borrowed Sight – his ability to tap into Gerald's adept vision had not failed after leaving Shaitan, as the Hunter had thought it might, but was apparently instead a permanent consequence of the deepened bond between their souls. Often, Damien would notice some new permutation of the currents that he had never seen before, and would point it out to Gerald. The adept had been more than happy to explain each one to the Knight, his natural pedantic tendencies bolstered by the novel pleasure of getting to explain an adept's perception of the world to someone who could actually understand, but they certainly hadn't covered this peculiarity yet.

The currents running by their temporary camp site were suddenly coursing faster, but also somehow thinner; if the fae truly followed the same rules as the water that was so frequently used as a metaphor for its behaviour, it would have been suddenly shallow, a raging river abruptly drying down to only a splashing trickle. Damien stared at the ground in bafflement. Although strange, it was at least somewhat familiar; it wasn't entirely different from what he'd seen when he first arrived in Jaggonath, when he'd invoked a Seeing in the moments before an earthquake hit, though with a sorcerer's normal Sight the difference had been far harder to detect.

“Is that-”

“Quake!” Gerald's tone was sharp with alarm, and Damien jerked around to stare at his companion. After all they had been through, an earthquake was hardly a new or particularly pressing threat, and they both knew better than to try to Work – but the Hunter's face had gone pale, and there was real urgency in his eyes as he held out one slender hand to Damien in a beckoning gesture.

“Stay close to me, and close your-”

The quake hit, and with it came a conflagration of earth-fae.

If Shaitan's valley had glowed like a blazing hearth with the wild fae that stirred through it, this was a wildfire, raging unchecked through a forest dry as kindling. As the ground rumbled and the earth shifted, the fae boiled up, coursing over the world and everything in it. A regular sorcerer could never see an earthquake's peak; the very act of Working to do so would fry them in an instant. An adept didn't have to Work to be able to See the currents, though, and Damien had been wildly unprepared for what he was now witnessing.

It was overwhelming, all-consuming, a visual input so vast and effulgent that his brain couldn't process it. As if every object around him, living or otherwise, had itself become fire; some dim as embers, some brilliant as the sun itself, blazing a thousand different colours and drenched with power and meaning and past and future. Damien was barely aware of having fallen to his knees, or the cry of pain that tore out of his throat. He was aware of a cool hand that seized his own in an iron grip, anchoring him again the storm, and the stern command that resonated within his very mind.

Close your eyes.

Damien did so reflexively, reacting to the order in a way he couldn't have reacted on his own; in that moment, his own thoughts were too scattered to do much of anything, but that crystal-clear directive was easy enough to obey. Even with his eyes shut, the afterimage was seared against the backs of his eyelids, painting outlines of rainbow fire in the darkness. As the moments passed with the earth shuddering beneath them, however, those outlines gradually faded; the haze of shock faded, and Damien realized that he'd been kneeling on the hard ground for minutes on end, breathing like a winded racehorse as his mind reeled with the aftermath of what he'd seen.

Gerald was still kneeling next to him, left hand wound tightly with Damien's right, silent but steadying.

Breathing deeply and trying to slow his frantic heart, Damien chuckled hoarsely. “Damn. That was a lot more intense than I was expecting. I can see why you tried to warn me.”

“I need you not to panic.”

Those words, despite the deliberate levelness of Gerald's tone, immediately spiked Damien's heart rate right back up to where it had been during the earthquake. He could feel something that felt a lot like trepidation emanating from Gerald's end of the link, and the combination gave him the unsettling feeling that Gerald was worried but trying not to show it. Swallowing against a suddenly bone-dry throat, Damien replied wryly.

“That's not a great way to go about it, then. I don't think most people find being told not to panic particularly reassuring, you know.”

He opened his eyes, wanting to see the Hunter's face, hoping it would help him better read the severity of the situation – but opening his eyes didn't make the darkness go away.

Oh, God.

“It should be temporary,” Gerald said immediately, obviously feeling the rush of absolute terror that had just poured through Damien like ice water. “Mere Sight can't actually damage your eyes, it's not real light and it can't actually blind you. You can't see right now because your brain wasn't designed to process that kind of input, and it's trying to protect itself.”

Damien reminded himself forcefully that he did, in fact, need to keep breathing; crushed by fear, it felt as if his lungs had momentarily forgotten that fact. He turned until he figured he should be looking at about where the adept's face was, heart lodged in his throat as he blinked repeatedly and found only inky blackness whether his eyes were open or shut.

“How sure are you?”

Gerald hesitated.

“Ninety percent,” he said finally, and Damien could feel the honesty in those words. “I know this is deeply alarming, and nothing like this has happened before so I cannot be entirely certain, but everything I know about the interaction of the fae and the human mind tells me this is temporary. A physical reaction to a psychological injury. As soon as your subconscious grasps that you weren't actually injured, your vision will be fine.”

“What if it can't figure that out on its own?” Damien could hear the tremor in his own voice; he hated it, but he couldn't seem to stop it, and it wasn't as if it really mattered anyway. Gerald was hardly going to judge him for his fear. “I think you forget I'm a Healer. I know damn well that plenty of psychosomatic conditions don't resolve themselves and require outside intervention.”

A moment of silence. Then, a soft murmur.

“Let me try something.”

Cool fingers touched his other hand, and Damien let himself be gently guided to turn toward the Hunter; kneeling face to face now, Gerald wove the fingers of both their hands together, his grip tight and grounding as he spoke in that steady, subtle cadence that Damien had come to associate with him Working.

“Shut your eyes again, and focus on the link.”

Damien exhaled heavily, doing as he was told. When they had first strengthened the bond between them, that desperate day as they braced themselves for the final showdown against Calesta, the feel of the link had sickened Damien; it had felt alien and wrong, the Hunter's nature too dark and predatory to ever be comfortable against his own. Whether it was whatever the Mother of the Iezu had done in creating one of her children from Gerald's mind, though, or perhaps simply the breaking of his compact with the Unnamed, that had changed; he could still feel the darkness of the adept's soul, nine centuries of cruelty and ruthlessness leaving their mark – but it was no longer painful, no longer jarring or terrifying. It was a familiar darkness, still eerie but also comforting, and it felt far more natural than Damien would ever have believed possible to let it envelop him.

He felt the Hunter's power wrap around him – and suddenly, he was seeing himself. With a jolt of shock, Damien realized that he was seeing through Gerald's eyes, looking at his own kneeling form from Gerald's perspective. Like the 'echo' in that cave on Shaitan, when he'd heard his own words in Gerald's ears, he could still tap into the Hunter's senses – and with his own eyes shut, there was no confusing doubling of input, just Gerald's own vision feeding smoothly into Damien's mind.

It got a little more confusing when he felt his mouth move to speak, but could see that his own mouth was still, and it was Gerald's voice that he heard.

“I'm not sure if I should be intrigued or concerned at the rate with which we're accomplishing new and impossible feats, Vryce. I thought that this might be possible, or I wouldn't have tried it, but we're breaking at least three natural laws at this very moment.”

Damien felt a prickle of indignation break through his barely-restrained panic; he opened his eyes, ready to give Gerald a stern retort about focusing on the priorities of the moment – but the words died in his throat, unspoken and forgotten, as he took in the sight of the adept kneeling before him. Gerald just gazed back at him, a tiny half-smile on his lips, clearly aware that Damien was actually seeing him. Finally, Damien blinked, and managed to marshal his thoughts into a question.

“How the vulk did that fix me?”

Gerald chuckled softly, and let go of him, rising smoothly to his feet; Damien stood as well, his legs still feeling a little shaky, telling himself firmly that he was definitely not mourning the loss of the adept's hands entwined with his own.

“As I said, the issue was with your mind, not your eyes. A brief glimpse through my eyes was enough to assure your subconscious that the danger of the quake had passed, and that it was safe enough to allow visual input again.”

Damien shook his head, disbelieving. “And... is it always like that, for you? Is that what you normally See during a quake?”

Gerald sighed, a little of the smugness falling from his expression. “Yes. One of the many, many reasons that a fair portion of adepts do not reach adulthood sane – even though our minds are better equipped to handle constant input from the fae, that kind of deluge is still overwhelming, and if the disorientation and panic is strong enough to drive us to Work instinctively...”

“Game over.” A chill ran through Damien, and he folded his arms across his chest, bracing himself against the night breeze that suddenly felt just a little too biting. “That's why you tried to warn me. You realized at the last second that I'd be getting the full brunt of that too, instead of just the filtered version I've seen before.”

“Just so. It wasn't a consequence that had occurred to me before, when I was considering the side effects of our... enhanced connection.” Gerald confirmed. “It wasn't until you reacted to the first thinning of the currents that I realized what might happen.”

“We're going to be talking about that later, by the way,” Damien warned him, finally turning back to his bewildered horse to finish strapping down his saddle. “I don't think I've ever heard anyone discuss it, but I want to know what causes that 'thinning' right before the quake surge, and I'm sure you have plenty of theories even if they're not confirmed.”

Gerald smiled faintly. “As you like,” he murmured.

Only a short time later, they had finished breaking camp and were on their way once more. As their horses picked their way down the road they were following toward Jaggonath, a fairly well-travelled thoroughfare during the day but utterly deserted during the night, Damien listened to Gerald's theories about quakes and watched the night around them. Dangerous as it could be to the average member of Erna's populace, lit by dancing blue and violet fae, the night was truly beautiful. Glancing over at his companion and watching that subtle light glimmer off the adept's Core-golden hair, Damien found himself smiling.

Unexpected risks or not, he wouldn't have given up this new, impossible Sight for the world.

#whumptober2021 #no.7 #Blindness #coldfire trilogy #fic #temporary blindness #evil is what you make of it #gerald tarrant #damien vryce #the neocount writes

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talkfantasytome · 3 years

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Part of my attempt to re-post answers I've given, without the context of specific links to posts based on this feedback and advice.

Anon Ask: Linked me to a few posts about E\ain, her possible story, and the Fourth item of the Dread Trove. My thoughts on that item possibly being "unmade" and E\ain being able to "remade" them. Thought on how Koschei was preparing for Az, and how the item being cloaked in shadow could be a link to Az and the item. And how E\ain relates to the hounds of the Night Court, which were used by the Daglan. How the greeting the Book of Breathings gave Feyre in ACOMAF is actually foreshadowing E\ain and her connection there.

If I may, my first suggestion would be to block certain tags. That might help calm you. <3 I tend to avoid E\ain-Azriel theories, because they anger me at times. Especially ones like these where they try to take what some other character has and give it to E\ain. I'm seeing it all over the place and it's infuriating me. Not because I hate E\ain. No.

Because I actually want E\ain to be a good character.

And, I'm sorry, but giving E\ain other people's stories, powers, etc. that we've already seen is not making her a good character. It's making her a repeat.

So, let me start with this:

Nesta wasn't able to "unmade" Briallyn because she was made by the Cauldron. Nesta didn't create those made weapons because she was made by the Cauldron.

Those came from the power she TORE from the Cauldron, literally. Nesta had this "made" power because she TOOK it. E\ain did not take that power. E\ain was gifted the power to be a Seer because the Cauldron found her so lovely. And the Cauldron still found her lovely after it made her, which means she didn't steal anything from it at all.

So, any theory that has anything to do with E\ain having powers like what Nesta displayed are completely inaccurate and ignore the fact that Nesta's powers did not come from her being made but from what she took from the Cauldron.

Yes, E\ain might have a connection with made objects, she might be able to find them as Nesta did. But she would not be able to create them herself. Or "unmade" someone. (I really don't know if I can use the term unmake here. 😂) She may be able to wield the Dread Trove, but that's also a big MAYBE. And I say that not because I think E\ain isn't powerful or strong enough, but because no one really thought or talked about E\ain being able to wield them as Nesta did. Maybe it's because they just forget about her, or maybe it's because they're not sure she'd be able to considering her power is different.

IDK.

Basically, I don't believe that first concept can be right, because while maybe E\ain can wield the Dread Trove, she wouldn't be able to "made" or "unmade" objects. That, to the best of our knowledge, is a power that Nesta got in her blessed thievery.

And no, that's not a power the Cauldron would have just given E\ain, because that power was part of the essence of the Cauldron. In stealing that power, Nesta broke it a bit. So the Cauldron would have had to break itself to give that power to E\ain...which means Nesta would not have become Fae the way she did.

Also, for the record, Nesta didn't "unmade" Briallyn and then kill her. She killed her by "unmading" her. Because Nesta's power was DEATH. And that sure as hell ain't E\ain's.

That second argument, on the other hand, was just incredibly focused on Azriel incorrectly. I talked about that earlier. Because Koschei wasn't preparing for Az. They were laying the trap for Cassian. Why do you think Briallyn had been so silent for those months between Solstice and then? And even before then. Emerie's cousin was influenced by Briallyn by the second time Nesta met Emerie. They were laying that trap for well over half a year. THAT's what Koschei was talking about.

You can tell he was preparing for Cassian, because Cassian's the one he froze. It's not about Az. It just feels that way if you're so focused on one character you don't take the time to actually read and see what's happening in the book. While I'm all about critical reading, that also means taking the time to see if those questions are actually already answered in the book, and they are. But if you're only thinking about Az, you might miss the answers placed at your feet about Cassian and Nesta - the main characters of the book.

It is absolutely possible that Az has a tie in to the fourth item, some way. I think in one they suggested that maybe it was hidden by a shadowshinger, so a shadowsinger must find it. I could see it potentially happening. It could be how they tie the next book into the larger, Koschei plot, which is going to be an overarching plot in books 4 and 5 before becoming the main plot in book 6. Since we will be seeing more Valkyrie stuff, and likely more Illyrian stuff too. So, like, this could happen, but that would likely bring more Nesta in. She's the one that noticed there might be a fourth Trove item. Why would that plot point then go to E\ain? Other than to give E\ain another character's plot points and journey? And SJM's not going to do that. She's going to give E\ain her own arc, her own powers and plot.

As for using what the Book of Breathings said to Feyre as a foreshadowing of E\ain being able to become a fanged beast, that's almost going way too far with that stuff, considering the fact that I doubt Sarah had planned that far ahead with that much detail these later books when she was writing ACOMAF. I don't mean that in a way to degrade Sarah. It's just that she was focused on the original trilogy, and while she likely had ideas and thoughts about everyone's journeys, she did have to first and foremost focus on the books she was actually contracted for. She didn't have the contract for the next three yet when she was writing ACOMAF (I think?).

Also, and I've said this before, anything in ACOMAF that people claim is foreshadowing for Azriel and E\ain, isn't. When Sarah was writing ACOMAF she was still planning on Mor and Azriel being endgame. She made that change when she was writing ACOWAR. So, literally, nothing in ACOMAF foreshadows E\ain and Azriel, not purposefully. And, if it's not purposeful, it's not actually foreshadowing.

That being said, that's also not how I would interpret that message and, not going to lie, I could interpret it in a way that's likely a better prediction of E\ain and Az, not that I believe it is one because, again, it was done in ACOMAF. But, let me show you anyway:

“Life and death and rebirth. Sun and moon and dark. Rot and bloom and bones. Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn. Love me, touch me, sing me.” (ACOMAF - Chapter 57)

So, first of all, this is in Chapter 57. That's well before Nesta and E\ain became Fae. So, the book was only talking to Feyre. HOWEVER, you could argue that this line is actually foreshadowing what will happen to Nesta and E\ain:

Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn.

Think about it. Feyre is "Lady of night, princess of decay." That's clearly one person, as there's just a comma. In the next line it says "hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn". That could easily mean Nesta and E\ain. Fanged beast = Nesta. Trembling fawn = E\ain. It may not. BUT IT COULD. So this line literally could be foreshadowing that they are about the be made.

Now, IF I didn't know that SJM at that point was planning on Mor an Az to be endgame, I'd be more worried about the next line.

Love me, touch me, sing me.

Mind you, I don't think that the Book's words would be foreshadowing for endgame couples, either. But, if it was - love me = Feyre & Rhys. Touch me = Nesta & Cassian - I mean, think about how important touch is to both of them and in their relationship. Sing me, then, could mean E\ain's love interest, and obvs that would sound like Az.

Now, as I said, we know this isn't the case, cause at that point, Moriel was the plan. Also, more than that, the Book of Breathings is heavily linked to the Cauldron. So, even if it was doing that, it would be foreshadowing mates, not endgame (if there's a difference), because mates are determined by the Cauldron.

So, yeah, it's not doing that. But, like, is that not a fairly decent argument? (This is why my dad wanted me to be a lawyer. I'm pretty good at debating from either side. 😂)

And, even if no one fully believes me about any of that, then tell me this - how is it that multiple lines refer to E\ain, but nothing is referring to Nesta in that? This argument basically says that this greeting from the Book of Breathings is entirely E\ain foreshadowing. Before E\ain was even made Fae.

That doesn't make sense. Why would there be so much focus on E\ain at that point that it's foreshadowing stuff that Sarah may or may not have known yet, but none about Nesta? When both were turned Fae at the same time, and we ended up with Nesta's book first.

For now, I'm going to guess that, IF that quote was foreshadowing anything about the sisters, it was that they were going to be Made into Fae. But, in the end, that quote is focused on Feyre first. So the foreshadowing of them turning Fae makes sense. But that paragraph is not E\ain-centric, it's Feyre-centric.

Don't get me wrong. I do think the fact that E\ain is Made is important. And maybe she will end up being the one to find the fourth Trove item, but I'm not yet convinced. And I don't think the fact that it's in shadow means it has something to do with Az as much as, like Nesta suggested, it's just that it's been glamoured like the others.

One other thing, but I noticed there's also an argument that E\ain is obvious for book five because of her vision about Koschei's box. But, we know that Koschei, being the large, overarching plot, is going to come to a head in book 6. So why would that make E\ain book 5?

These arguments align E\ain so much with Koschei, and then say it means she's got book 5, but Koschei's end is book 6. Book 5, like with ACOSF, is going to have it's own plot, and Koschei is going to be tied into it as the larger, overarching plot. But there's nothing about what the main plot for an Az-E\ain book would be. Because, for E\ain, her plot will be heavily linked with Koschei.

We have to remember that Sarah has said all three books are "standalone" books. What that means is that, while there is an overarching plot (Koschei), each book will also have it's own plot, with a climax surrounding that plot. For Nesta, it was the Dread Trove and Briallyn. And Koschei was tied into it, to show he was pulling strings. That's what's going to happen with book 5. And then book 6, it'll be more of a Koschei centered plot.

If E\ain is book 5, then that's two Koschei centered plots, and book 5 and book 6 are not standalones. They are a duology.

Lastly, to talk about chapter 20 from ACOSF, which was briefly mentioned - the one where E\ain says she'll find the Trove. Some believe that scene was foreshadowing E\ain and Az. It wasn't. It may have been foreshadowing some involvement E\ain will have with the Trove. But that doesn't automatically mean it'll be E\ain and Az. It literally just means she could have involvement with it.

However, considering the timing of that scene, being the literal day after that fight E\ain and Nesta had, where Nesta basically pointed out how E\ain dos nothing, I think that that scene was also a sign of who E\ain truly is.

Because E\ain didn't do shit about the Trove. She offered and then did nothing. My guess: because she didn't actually want to do something. All she wanted to do was prove Nesta wrong. Be like "look, see, I'm doing more, I'm better than you". E\ain started to show some true colors in ACOSF, and they're not all sunshine and flowers and rainbows.

However, in the end, I'm not saying anyone is wrong about E\ain and the fourth Dread Trove object. I hope they are, because I truly hope that E\ain will get her own stuff and her own plot. But E\ain and Nesta are not the same, and that's VERY important to remember. E\ain cannot create Made objects, she can not "Unmade" someone or something. Because that's something that came from Nesta stealing the Cauldron's power. And, on top of that, even if E\ain does get the fourth Dread Trove item, that doesn't automatically mean it's an Az-E\ain book. There's actually no reason to believe that. And, remember, any time you see an argument that there's Az-E\ain foreshadowing in ACOMAF, you'll know they're wrong, because at that point Sarah had a different endgame in mind, and she had that endgame in mind until after she finished writing that book. :)

That being said, I'm still thinking that E\ain is getting Swan Lake/Vasilisa the Beautiful.

I very much hope that calmed you. Sorry it's long. I'm glad to hear you consider me not in the middle of the ship war. I very much try not to be, though I'm sure these posts may not fully be helping. LOL. But I do stay out of other people's posts, and I try to consider everything outside of the relationships as well.

#ask box #acotar thoughts #antielriel #anti elriel #elain archeron

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spartanguard · 4 years

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even death won’t part us now (5/?)

Summary: Two covens, both alike in dignity, / In fair New York, where we lay our scene, / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes / A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life; / Whole misadventured piteous overthrows / Do with their death bury their sires’ strife. (Captain Swan + West Side Story + vampires. But not as sad. Probably.)

A/N: Brace yourself for some feelz, friends; that’s all I can say about this chapter. (There’s just...a LOT of emotion. You’ll see ;) ) Eternal thanks, as always, to @optomisticgirl for being an awesome beta; to @thesschesthair for her amazing art (LOOK AT THAT AHHHHHHH); and to @kmomof4 and @cssns for putting this event on and pushing me to continue this story!

if you’ve ever seen AVPM/S, I’d like you to imagine Draco Malfoy singing the Anita part and that’s what my high school’s production of West Side Story was like

part five: tonight, there will be no morning star

The skyscraper was a wonderful invention; a marvel of modern engineering. The ability to construct a building all the way into the clouds was one of the many things Gold was glad he had lived long enough to see. He’d been impressed enough when the Equitable Life Building opened in 1870; the balcony he stood on now was at least five times higher in the sky.

It was a good thing his sense of vertigo was long-dead, else he might not be able to spend as much time out here, looking down on the city, as he did. It made him feel like some modern monarch, surveying his kingdom from on high. In reality, it was much more complicated than that, though he’d spent long enough building his empire that it wasn’t far-fetched to call it a dynasty.

He sometimes lamented that his efforts would never be documented in history books; how he’d spent centuries working away right under the noses of the mortals, and they remained oblivious. Maybe he’d make that his next project. Surely there was some suffering, underappreciated writer he could bribe with immortality...ah, but not tonight. There’d be time for that later. First, he had to weather whatever was coming.

He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but something in the air was different tonight; a sense of anticipation was floating on the wind, carried along by the brine of the ocean. He tapped his fingers on the rail of the balcony but was unable to tap down on what it was precisely.

“Hello, Rumple,” a voice he’d never be able to forget said from somewhere above.

Ah, perhaps that was it then; he always had a sense for when she was around. “I thought I smelled betrayal and cheap wine on the breeze. Good evening, Cora.”

The woman dropped from the roof above, landing gracefully on the terrace without even wrinkling her pantsuit. Her style had always edged on sharp, though this seemed surprisingly simple for her; he recalled bigger shoulder pads the last time he’d seen her—what was it, ‘85?

“You seem awfully calm considering what’s about to happen tonight,” she said, ignoring the jibe. Ah well, it was worth a shot; he hadn’t been able to get a rise out of her since 1621, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

He scoffed. “What, a minor scuffle? Two lads having it out over a couple blocks of territory? Seems to me it’s far more personal than anything that would actually mean something.” He’d had to restrain himself from chuckling when Jones told him about the fight; they had no idea.

“Don’t tell me you’ve grown so dense that you don’t realize what this means,” she preened.

He wanted to call her bluff, but if there was one thing he’d learned in over 400 years of dealing with Cora, is that she rarely did. “Enlighten me.”

“It means your underlings are growing restless and tired of this. Mine too. And I’d rather not have this end the way it did last time that happened.” ‘Last time’ being a bloody war; they were able to hide it from the mortals within the confines of the American Revolution but it was a near miss. He’d began rebuilding his ranks immediately; she’d taken her time. And here they were now.

“Chaos has always been my friend, dearie; I can’t say I’d be too upset if it broke out now.”

“While I wouldn't mind it either, I’d be watching your back a bit more closely. Didn’t Jones bring up something...rather interesting earlier?”

Somehow, a chill ran down his unfeeling spine—not just at what Jones had asked about, but the fact that she seemed to know about it as well. “It’s nothing; just a myth. It’s not possible.”

“Please. Think of everything we’ve seen, everything we’ve been through together. Nothing is impossible.”

“I’ve made sure of it.”

“Have you?”

She was always good at poking his buttons. And he was done with it.

“Go. And never come back.”

She had to obey, at least, and he took a small thrill in the way she involuntarily started to climb over the balcony’s railing. “Fine. I just thought I was doing you a favor, but I see it’s not wanted. See you in another 30 years, Rumple.”

She let go and fell back; he didn’t watch to see what happened when she hit the ground. He wouldn’t put it past her to frame him for murder, but she had a different angle this time.

Even though she’d left, that sense of apprehension lingered. Something was indeed coming, something that would change things in his world—but what?

And why did he get the sense Jones was involved?

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

The sun wasn’t even below the horizon before Emma left home, shouting a quick “goodbye and good luck” over her shoulder as she headed out into the evening. If she were in her normal skip-tracing clothes (aka her normal clothes), she’d be running across rooftops to get to Granny’s in no time flat. But no, this was a honeypot, so she had to walk, lest she break the only pair of heels she could actually move in without pain. (That was one thing she’d been dismayed to discover: heels still hurt, even if she recovered faster.)

Still, she powerwalked to Granny’s in record time. “Evening, Emma,” the old wolf called out. “The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, slipping onto her normal stool at the fairly empty counter. It was weird—for a place known to so many, it always seemed to be fairly empty. She had to guess that last night’s meeting was the most crowded it had been in ages. Or maybe that was just part of the magic of the diner.

If she had to guess, the guy at the booth on the other side of the room was a werewolf, based on scent alone; and there was what looked like a fairy bachelorette party at the large booth in the corner. (Not to be confused with fae—she made that mistake once and only once.) Being the only vampire, it was kind of nice to feel like the odd person out for a change. Though she hoped that changed soon.

“Order up!” Granny was suddenly in front of her with a plate of one of the few things on the menu Emma could eat: onion rings. (Onions that had been soaked in blood overnight, mind you, but that was enough for her to be able to stomach them.)

“Thank you so much, Granny,” she effused, and then moaned as she bit into one. “Have I ever told you you’re a genius?”

“It’s been mentioned once or twice. When does lover boy get here?”

As incredible as it was, Emma almost spat out the bite. “Excuse me?”

“Girl, you think I didn’t smell you all over him last night? He covered it up well enough for the others not to notice, but I know better.”

First Zelena, now Granny; they were both going to have to invest in industrial-strength body spray if they were going to keep this under wraps for the time being.

“Calm down; I won’t tell.” But she leaned in across the counter and lowered her voice. “But if you need a place to meet in secret, you know I have rooms upstairs. And I promise not to listen too close.”

“Thanks; I’ll, uh, keep it in mind,” Emma stammered, then hid her embarrassment in another bloody onion ring. Granny, unsurprisingly, cackled and walked away.

It would take more than a voyeuristic wolf to keep her from enjoying fried deliciousness, though, and she savored every bite—being glad she was wearing a red dress in case of drips (Deadpool totally stole that from her, as far as she was concerned)—until there were just two left: the most perfect, juicy, crispiest ones of the bunch. But suddenly, there was only one. And she also wasn’t alone at the counter anymore.

Two seats away, Killian sat with one of her onion rings, taking a slow bite that had her mouth watering in other ways; the way his tongue swiped away the bit of blood that escaped his lips was almost arousing enough to overlook the theft. Almost.

“All those manners and no one taught you to ask nicely?”

“I told you I was a pirate,” he tossed back, taking another bite. “Not a whole lot of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ going on there.”

“I highly doubt you ever pillaged anything as precious as those, though.” She started to stand up to close the distance between them, but he threw her a warning look out of the corner of his eye that made her pause.

“We’re in public,” he muttered with his mouth full. Damn, he was right; even if no one from either coven was here now, that could easily change. Which was really annoying because as good as his rum-flavored kisses tasted last night, she liked onion rings even more. And, you know, they probably had some business to discuss—like whatever Zelena had been talking about.

As if on cue, Granny slipped past again, but this time tossing a key (with a rather ostentatious keyring) onto the counter in front of her as she went to address her new customer. There was a room number written on it in Sharpie; Emma memorized the number and slipped the key into her lap as she sat back down. (While also making a mental note to try to find some sexy dresses with pockets.)

The appeal of her last onion ring waned given that there was something far more delicious-smelling a few feet away, so she scarfed it down, threw some cash on the counter, and then headed to the hallway that led upstairs. Granny definitely did better business in the diner than her inn, and it wasn’t anything special, but it was clean, which Emma couldn’t say about a lot of other places she’d been; her skps really loved the city’s roach motels. (Something told Emma the very nature of her host kept most vermin far from the premises.)

Room 305 was simple, sparse, but had a decent-sized mattress with a sturdy frame, and a clean bathroom. All she needed was the privacy, though.

She’d hardly tossed her purse and the key on the room’s table when a soft knock fell on the door; she wouldn’t have heard it if she was still human. She turned back and, out of habit, glanced through the room’s peephole; she was already getting a whiff of spicy and salty air through the door, but this was still the city and you couldn’t be too careful. But of course it was Killian on the other side, peering up at the door through his crazy long lashes.

She didn’t wait any longer to pull it open, and nearly as soon as she had, he was on top of her, claiming her lips with his and damn, she was right—onion rings tasted as good on his lips as they did on her tongue. (But his tongue tasted even better.)

Somehow, the door was shut behind them and while she wasn’t quite sure who was leading, they pressed together from tip to toe until they fell against the plush—and noisy—mattress, sinking in with a loud squeak of ancient steel.

“Should have known Granny would want to hear something like that,” he chuckled. “Saucy old wolf.”

“Eh, let her listen.” Emma’s own arousal was climbing too fast for her to care, and she pounced on Killian again, wrapping a leg around him and pressing her core against his. He was definitely eager, too, she could tell; it was kind of funny how, out of all the bodily functions that ended when a person transitioned to a vampire, arousal was the one that remained unchanged. She’d had her fair share of flings in her afterlife, but no one had her as keyed up as Killian did with so little effort.

His hand wandered down her side, squeezing her waist and then pulling her rear impossibly closer, before toying with the hem of her dress. “I thought last night’s dress was rather demure for you,” he said between kisses, “but this one is positively sinful.”

“Good. Means work will go fast tonight. Horny bond skips usually fall for it pretty fast.”

“I can see why. I’d tell you to be careful, but I feel like it would be better to warn your prey.”

“Emma Swan always gets her man.”

“What a lovely motto.”

“True so far. And that includes right now.” She sucked a line of kisses down his sharp jaw to the juncture of his neck, drawing a delicious moan from him. “Do you have one?”

“Aye,” he breathed, eyes squinted shut as if trying to regain his thoughts. “A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.”

“And what is it you want?”

He opened his eyes—clear blue even in the dingy yellow light. “You, love. Just you.”

How could she do anything but kiss him within an inch of his afterlife?

Everything that followed was a rush of sensation rather than any coherent thought:

The brush of his beard against her neck, the firmness of his chest beneath her hands (as well as that of his ass), each graze of his fingers against her thigh as they moved her dress up.

The way his weight settled above her in a way that was both oppressive and comforting, the dance of fingers as they undid his fly (she wasn’t even sure whose all were involved in that), the bob of his cock as it sprang free from denim confines.

How something so hard could feel so soft in her hand—nearly enough to make him come undone on touch alone, but she’d be damned if she let that happen. (Or, well, damned more than she probably already was going to be.) How, for the first time in 15 years, she genuinely felt flushed.

It was all she could do to shove her lace panties aside and guide him home, and oh—she didn’t have the words for what that felt like: to be filled so perfectly it could have brought tears to her eyes (you know, if her tear ducts still worked).

And then he moved and—holy shit. Her fangs dropped down on their own accord again but she couldn’t be bothered to care this time; hell, all she wanted to do was sink her teeth into him, but she’d have to settle with using a heel to press him back in.

“You feel incredible, darling,” he murmured, slightly lisping—his fangs had dropped too. Maybe she hadn’t learned all there was to know about vampire biology. But that could be dealt with later; right now, she just needed him, and to find the release that was inching closer painfully slowly.

“So do you,” she whispered. “But it feels amazing when you move.”

“As you wish,” he said into her ear, his breath somehow feeling hot on it, and he complied. They started slow, careful presses in and out to find their rhythm, then picking up speed and power. She really hoped the bed frame would hold up (Twilight did get that part right) and was sure Granny was getting a good show, but she put any other wonderings into finding his lips again, the play of teeth and tongues and lips coinciding with the meeting of other body parts.

It felt like a slow climb—something she was used to in post-mortem relations—but then the precipice came out of nowhere and she was suddenly falling, gasping into Killian’s mouth as her release carried her away, though she held his shoulders with an iron grip to keep from floating too far.

He wasn’t far behind, she felt, and his fingers would have left imprints on her side were they still capable of being bruised. She felt his release spill inside her as his movements stuttered until he was done, slipping out and falling next to her on his back.

It was probably some long-buried instinct that left them feeling out of breath after sex, but Emma was pretty sure she was sweating. Dead or alive, that had been one of the greatest orgasms of her life—and, honestly, sex was so much easier while undead, what with the whole not needing birth control or being worried about STIs. But this—this was something else.

“I do have to admit, that wasn’t my initial aim in following you up here,” Killian said, pulling her into his side. “But I’m not complaining.”

“I think we’d have some issues if you were. You seemed very enthusiastic about it.”

“And how could I not be?” he smirked, turning to look at her. But then his smile fell, and he pressed his thumb against her lips; it came back red. “Apologies, love; did I hurt you?”

She licked her lips and tasted the copper. “No; I hadn’t even noticed. It might have been self-inflicted,” she said, pressing her tongue against her own still-exposed canines. “I wish I knew why that kept happening.”

“It’s just the effect I have on you.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her normal MO when flirting was to refute a statement like that, but...why lie? “I’ve been waiting to see you all day.”

“I can tell.” She lightly slapped his shoulder, and he chuckled at the reaction. “I felt the same way; I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“A day is a lot less than 15 years. It dragged but I managed. Thank you for not murdering my dad last night.”

“That wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly. And if anyone was going to do any assassination last night, it would have been Graham killing me.”

Ugh, of course he would; she groaned. “Sorry; he can’t take a hint. You make out with a guy once twelve years ago and apparently he keeps a flame lit for the next decade.”

“I can hardly blame him, especially knowing how you kiss.” His thumb again traced her lips, which had healed by now, and god, the reverence in that gentle gesture was nearly as overwhelming as her orgasm. But then his brow furrowed. “You don’t suppose true love’s kiss is real, do you?”

Emma blinked, confused; where had that come from? “No, probably not, though I wouldn't dare say that around my mom—she most likely believes in it. Why?”

“Granny mentioned something to me last night after the meeting, and I did some research today...were you also aware the prophecies were real?”

“No, I was not.” Though surprised, she listened as Killian told her about Gold and his powers—actual, honest-to-god, dark magical powers—and the prophecy that spelled his end. She wasn’t too surprised that it was kept under wraps, especially given what she’d learned from Zelena last night (which Killian somehow did not know, which made her feel like less of a newb for once).

But most shocking was the fact that Kililan thought she was the one the prophecy talked about. “Fuck.”

“That’s a succinct way of putting it.”

“I don’t word good, so the fewer, the better.” Quips aside, she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the whole thing. “So I might be the only person that can kill Gold and end this whole feud? That’s….a lot.”

“I know, but I want you to know it’s not a burden you carry alone.”

And then the other half hit her: true love. Did that mean…? “So...that’s us? That means we’re—”

“Maybe,” he said softly, probably sensing her panic. She couldn’t deny that she had deep feelings for Killian, but true love? That was...that was her parents, that was fairy tales; that didn’t happen to her.

“I don’t want all that,” she whispered. “I just want to be with you; I don’t want to be responsible for ending some centuries-long feud.”

“I know, love,” he murmured, and pulled her close; she was nestled into the crook of his neck and other than her dad’s patented hugs, she’s never felt so safe. “It’s not for certain; just a theory, and you’re under no obligation to act on it. But if you choose to, know that I’m here beside you each step of the way.”

“Or we can just run off; go hide in the woods upstate or something. Or Maine—or even Canada; they’d never find us there.”

“Not likely, no,” he chuckled; she could feel the vibration of it through his collarbone onto her cheek. “Maybe a cottage by the seaside somewhere? Some remote little beach?”

“Mm, sounds perfect.” Her parents would understand, right? And even if they didn’t….well, they could deal. “Let’s just do that right now. Let me go catch this skip, and then I’ll pack my bags and we can go.”

She felt more than saw his smile. “As much as I’d love that, I’m afraid I have some other things to attend to this evening.”

Oh right, the fight—how could she forget? “I guess that brawl is kind of pointless then, isn’t it?”

“Aye; perhaps why Gold seemed unperturbed by the idea.”

“Then what’s the point in letting it happen? Do you think you can stop it?” It was probably because she was fairly young and hadn’t been fully indoctrinated to the cause, but the thought of an inconsequential fight that had even a slight chance of becoming something worse—because, with the way tensions ran, that was alway a possibility—made her really nervous.

“I’ll certainly try; I agree, I don’t like the thought of unnecessary fighting, either.” And he’d probably seen more than his fair share of it. “Whatever happens, I’ll come find you when it’s all done—I promise.”

“I will hunt you down if you don’t.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.”

She kissed him again, slower and sweeter than before. “Ugh, I don’t want to go, but this skip will pay rent for a month.”

“I don’t want you to go, but it’d be ungentlemanly to make you late for work.”

“Do you always have to be one?”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

Thankfully, they had enough time for one more make out, and she was already making a mental note to hit a drug store later for some perfume; his scent was probably embedded in her pores at this point. (She also mentioned he might want to do the same; he said he’d stop by his apartment before heading to the fight.)

Eventually, they righted themselves and made their way out of the room, pausing for one last, slow kiss in the hallway after locking the door.

“Not a moment will go by I don’t think of you,” Killian murmured, but he may as well have shouted it for as hard as it hit her.

“Good,” she replied, hoping he heard how much she meant the same thing back.

With one final peck, she dashed out the back door and into the night, off to whatever seedy bar she was finding the scumbag-of-the-week. Hopefully, this would be a quick one—she already missed Killian.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

For a moment after Emma left, Killian stood stock still in the hallway, Emma’s scent lingering around him as his fingers traced the feel of her lips on his. That was not at all how he anticipated this encounter to go—he was fairly old fashioned in some senses, especially when it came to someone he wanted to court properly—but any complaint had died before he could give it voice. In a way, they were just making up for lost time, he supposed.

And he would see to it that they weren’t limited in that regard ahead.

Granny gave a lascivious wink when he placed the key on the counter in the diner, and he was sure she’d have more to say were the evening crowd (as it were) not filling up the place. He used that to his advantage and took his leave, even though he still had a few hours until he was due anywhere.

He spent a bit of time at the docks, mulling over how they’d changed over the years (and eyeing the ships for sale; he’d had to sell his last one and was in the market for something new, especially if a quick getaway might be needed at some point), before keeping his promise to Emma and stopping at his apartment for some fresh cologne to cover her scent. How no one had noticed it the night before was a mild miracle, but adrenaline would be running strong tonight and senses would be on high alert.

(He so loathed to erase the evidence of her on his person, though.)

There was still time to kill, so he walked slowly (well, for him) in the direction of the lot, even patiently waiting for crossing lights to indicate the all clear rather than dart out early like most New Yorkers did. He should probably find a snack, since he didn’t get to finish his drink at Granny’s; a hunger-like pang was stirring within, but there wasn’t enough time for that now.

The lot was mostly empty when he arrived, and the street oddly quiet; at least that boded well for this rendezvous—and perhaps he’d be able to maintain the peace.

As he got closer, a pinprick of light burned out of the darkness; it took but a millisecond for his eyes to adjust and see that Robin was waiting, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers.

“You’ll smoke yourself into an early grave,” Killian scolded lightly, as he’d done many times before.

“Tis a pity I never got the chance, then, aye?” Robin tossed back. He and his wife had been emigrating to America in the mid-1800s when scarlet fever broke out on their ship; his wife and unborn child didn’t make it, but somehow, Gold had been aboard, and turned Robin before the disease claimed him as well.

In life, Robin had never had the money to maintain a tobacco habit, but once he found himself with unlimited time—and lungs that would never damage—he’d taken it up with gusto.

“Just don’t let me catch you vaporizing, or whatever it is,” Killian teased.

“Vaping, and no, never.”

They waited in companionable silence as Robin finished his cigarette and started on another. That caught Killian’s interest; while smoking might be a favored hobby for Robin, he’d never been known to indulge in chain smoking—unless he was nervous.

Footsteps on the other end of the lot drew their attention; David, Graham, and the others (though thankfully not Zelena) stepped from the shadows. At the sight, the twisting in his gut coiled again, and an ancient feeling washed over him: trepidation. He hadn’t felt that since...god, not since Yorktown.

And that clearly ended well. (He thought to himself, sarcastically.)

He couldn’t pinpoint a reason for his sense of dread; it was certainly not the first time the two teams had gone head-to-head (even if he hoped it might be the last). He couldn’t count the number of lives lost to the feud over the centuries—thankfully few innocent ones, but the number of siblings-in-arms sacrificed to the cause was far too high.

He’d never been nervous before any of those encounters. So why was this one giving him anxiety?

(Because so much was riding on this. Because he didn’t want to let Emma down.)

Will and Henry appeared out of nowhere, suddenly behind them, and if it was possible for the scene to get even more silent, it did. The men were lined up shoulder to shoulder in two opposing lines; it was like the standoff in a terrible spaghetti western, but without the benefit of a Morricone score.

The tension was palpable as they all stood stone-still, waiting for the other side to make any sort of move. It would have been the perfect time for Killian to intervene—convince them all to back down—but he was too worried that even so much as a pin drop would make waves.

In the end, it turned out to be the drop of cigarette ash that sent things into motion; Robin’s burnt end had barely hit the ground before he and Graham were on top of each other, snarling and slashing in the middle of the carpark.

An outsider would have thought it was some strange dance, or possibly performance art, with the way they clamored at each other but never seemed to land any blows. But Killian’s keen eyes could see each dodge of a body from a clawing limb, their extended fangs thirsting for blood, and the way Graham curled inward when Robin landed a first, firm punch on the other man’s stomach; that finally drew Killian from his stupor.

“No; that’s enough!” he shouted, then put himself between them. “We don’t need to do this.”

Despite his advanced age, he didn’t have as much an advantage over the two of them as he thought he did; they simply jumped away and continued. Before he could step in again, a firm hand had him by the shoulder.

“Hey, this was your idea; what kind of power grab is this?” David growled; his other hand was curled into a fist. Should have known he’d be itching for a fight, too.

“You really think this will solve anything?” Killian spat. “Our bosses don’t care; this goes way beyond us, mate.”

Killian threw him off and made for the other two, who were now wrapped in what he guessed was some sort of wrestling move, arms gripped on the other’s shoulders. But before he got all the way there, David jumped in front of him.

“I’m not your mate.” David was glaring and trying to use his height advantage to intimidate, but Killian wouldn’t dare hurt the father of his love, even if he was his opponent at the moment.

“Fine, but I’m not your enemy either; you don’t even know what you’re fighting for.”

“You think I don’t know?” Now he was moving toward Killian—though, over his shoulder, he could see that Robin had landed another punch, this time on Graham’s chest. “Aurum turned me and my wife against our will. Aurum made our daughter grow up without her parents. You just take and take, and do whatever you want without facing the consequences. And now, what—you think you can get out of them because you might lose?” The irony in that statement, of course, being that Robin had now hit Graham in the jaw, who had paused to cradle his sore chin.

“But you have her now; doesn’t that count for anything?” Killian pleaded.

He realized as soon as he said it that he’d made a grave error. David stopped, taken aback. “How did you know that?” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Killian didn’t take the time to answer; with any luck, that would be explained later. He jumped on the opportunity presented and dashed toward Robin and Graham again, pushing Robin away as he was about to make what would likely be the winning blow.

“Bloody hell, mate,” Robin sputtered, and Killian was about to reply, except he was suddenly face down on the pavement after something that felt vaguely like a foot hit him in the back.

“What game are you playing, Jones?” David yelled from above, giving Killian a good idea of who had attacked him. He was back on his feet in an instant, and so were the rest of the gangs, all around them. Fuck; so much for not bringing anyone else in.

It was Robin’s turn to step in front of Killian. “Are you trying to start a rumble, Nolan?”

“I didn’t start anything, but I will if that’s what you want.” Next to him, Graham pulled a suspiciously long, slender object from a pocket, and the subsequent swish of the weapon confirmed: he had a switchblade.

And a second later, Robin had pulled his own out.

They were immediately back on top of each other, with the others egging them on— “Right in the heart, Robin!” “Go for the neck, Graham!”

Killian’s lone attempt to pull Graham back (he was the closest to him at the time) ended with him also being pulled away by Jefferson; he and David restrained Killian and while he might have been able to shake off one of them, the two of them together were too much. He had to watch helplessly as the two in the center continued to swipe at each other, blades glinting dangerously in the murky streetlights.

It was still only until first blood, right? And that was bound to happen faster now that sharp edges were involved.

Almost in slow motion, he watched as the tip of Robin’s blade sliced at Graham’s cheek, leaving behind a thin line of red. He sighed in relief, little as he needed that breath; that was it—it was done.

David and Jefferson loosened their grip on him and he shook them off, not withholding a glare in David’s direction. He then turned to face Robin, to get him—all of them—out of there as quickly as possible, but his voice got stuck in his throat.

While Robin had barely relaxed, let down his guard for the briefest of seconds, Graham lunged at him and sank his blade into Robin’s chest.

Into Robin’s heart.

The world stood still for a moment as everyone stared in shock, and the reality of what just happened washed over Killian. It wasn’t until Graham jerked the blade free, dripping blood—Robin’s blood—on the ground, that he was jolted enough from his stupor to move.

“No!” Killian screamed, then ran to his friend just as he collapsed. “No, no, no,” he muttered, pressing a hand against Robin’s wound, but there was no use for it—a vampire was just as susceptible to that kind of stabbing as a mortal was.

Robin was gasping for air, useless as it was, as his lifeblood spilled out onto the asphalt below him, quite literally draining the life from him; little would be left in a few moments but ash and memories. If Killian could cry, he’d have been sobbing.

“Tell—tell ‘gina—” Robin stammered, but was quickly losing energy.

He knew what he was asking, anyways. “I’ll tell Regina,” he promised.

With his last bit of strength, Robin wrapped his hand around Killian’s and squeezed, smiling, as death finally came for him. It was fast—too fast, but wounds like that always led to a quick death. It wasn’t the first time Killian had held another person as they disintegrated in his hold, but it was by far the most painful. And the most unwarranted.

The dust that had been Robin settled in the air around him, landing on his hand where blood was still fresh. In more ways than one, Killian began to see red.

Without thinking, he grabbed Robin’s abandoned switchblade and in one swift moment, stood and shoved it at Graham, instinctively finding his most vulnerable spot.

Graham stammered back, pulling the weapon out—and hastening his own demise. All too quickly, he collapsed on his knees, his team gathering around him, and a moment later, he too was ash.

A sharp wind off the ocean blew Graham’s remains toward Killian, bringing with them the realization of what he had done:

He’d killed a member of Emma’s coven—practically her family.

And he’d done nothing to end the feud; if anything, he escalated it.

Bloody fuck, what had he done?

And what could he do now?

He stared in horror at the blood around him, trying to formulate a plan, when Will blessedly broke the fragile silence.

“Rozzers!” he shouted, then began to run, only to see no one else move. “Cops?” he translated into American English, which got the reaction he was looking for; everyone hopped to their feet and ran. No one wanted to explain this scene to mortal police.

Everyone but Killian. He wondered if his feet had become concrete, he was so rooted in place. It wasn’t until Will was in his face, urging him to move, that he did.

“Do you have somewhere to lay low? I don’t think Coroza is gonna let this one go,” he asked as they dashed from the lot.

His thoughts immediately turned to Emma, suicidal as that likely was. Could he drag her into this? Or would that be the least likely place they’d look?

He’d have to risk it. “Aye, I do.”

“Alright, then go; the less I know the better. Good luck, mate,” Will told him, then ran in another direction; belatedly, Killian realized, headed toward where Belle lived.

There was no time to dwell on that, though, and he changed course to head uptown. He had no idea what lay ahead, but he knew one thing: whatever it was, he wanted Emma at his side.

(Assuming, that is, she forgave him.)

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading, friends! let me know if you want/don’t want a tag! @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @profdanglaisstuff @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda

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signofwolf · 3 years

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Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas – book review

Series: Throne of Glass #7 Genre: YA, Fantasy Theme: Fae, magic users, war Warnings: mentions of torture, imprisonment Star rating: 0,5/10

Why did I pick this up?: I wanted to end this horrible series once and for all.

[Heavy spoilers ahead]

To make myself clear, before this book I quite liked this series. It wouldn’t place in my top 100 books, not even close, but it was a pleasant pageturner to listen to in audiobooks when working.

Language

Let’s start slow. I lack the words to express how much I hate the words ‘male’, ‘female’ and ‘mate’ after this series. Not even gonna try to express my trauma. But these 3 gems aside, Sarah J. Maas needs a dictionary. Or compress her work to a manageable size. Everything sang, Everyone melted, Every man roared, Every woman trembled, Everyone was unleashing themselves at least once a chapter (number of chapters: 122) ). And now I know definitely too much about Yrene’s ‘womb’. I know so much…

Dynamism

I thought that was a book about a war with heavy action content. Oh boy, I was wrong. This 984-pages monstrosity has maybe 5 pages of action. If you squint.

Every sequence, where by design action should take place was followed by one of two scripts:

Few sentences of action and then a few pages long internal monologue. Often repeated with the same character after the next few sentences of action, or with the next character and then the next (sometimes the first character made a second appearance and then everything would go all over again). And the word ‘character’ used in these sentences is not because I’m rambling. This book is written that way!

Few sentences of action and then action stops, and we are graced by a few pages long conversation. In the middle of a battle. Or spying. Or in Erawan’s chambers, when his castle is going down, and he is running up the stairs...

Time

Leaving alone the fact that apparently all series took less than a year (till this book I estimated the plot for about 3 years, Wiki told me it was 2, but Maas knows best), because that is a can of worms in itself. Time in this one? I honestly have no idea. There were many ‘few weeks of travel’ parts with two main groups of POVs. Personally my only time indicator was ‘Orynth won’t fall till Aelin gets here’. But nothing just fit. And I saw Lost Song when in the last episode we as the audience realized that our two POVs parallel storylines are in reality millennia apart. Lost Song made sense.

Emotional loading

… there wasn’t any. Really, it was like reading a milk label. Every time the scene was potentially emotionally impactful, Maas went ahead to overexplaining EVERY. GOD. DAMMED. THING. And it was abso-fucking-lutely everything. ‘Emotional dilemma? Let’s current POV explain it! 2 pages should be enough… Damn maybe it wasn’t enough. I know! I’ll switch POVs and explain it through the other character!’ <= My impression of Maas’ thought process. I’m fairly sure that the record was 7 POVs explaining the same thing in the row, but I was blacking out a little, so I cannot be sure.

And if that wasn’t enough, this book had a second way to defuse tension: random-plastic-repetitive-badly_written-smut. Really badly written and really repetitive. How could you not feel the spicy bits, when Manon (cruel, self assured 100+years old witch-queen) reacts the same in bed as Elide (20years old, virgin, ex-slave). And the rest of them were the same, there weren’t ANY distinctions.Just copy-paste.

The next point in current case: Someone died, it was impactful, I really liked the character, so I got sad. But then 2 of our characters came out of the room with a body, and after a paragraph of grieving they started making out, and then I was regaled with 2-pages-long description of melting cores. That was the place then this book stopped being badly written, and started being distasteful.

Characters

Remember when I was writing about switching POVs (which is 15(!!!) In the whole book. Oh and an omniscient narrator in places when our current POV was grieving too much to overthink something, but Maas still wanted to inform us about something)? They were all savagely murdered in the worst way: character mutilation. Somewhere between books our maybe-not-that-original but colorful and interesting characters became carbon copies of each other. I have no idea how many times I didn’t realise there was a POV switch. The only indicator was a change of pronoun, or when Maas was telling us the name of a current narrator. These were the only ways. And if you can't distinguish if you are in Dorian’s head or in Manon’s, that is the sign of a really BAD writing.

Romance

…there wasn't any. In all this book there wasn't any naturally progressing romantic scene. There were Maas’ endgame pairings which were sexing or pinning. As the author Maas loves to write about soulmates. And it’s not a bad thing itself. When I want some fluffy story I often tag ‘soulmates’ in AO3 and voila, +10 to good mood. But God above, it is not cute when every pair you write about are ‘true mates’ just BECAUSE. It is the only way Maas sees a relationship, as a fated pairing, written in the wake of the universe by the God himself. There is no choice, nor the work to put in it. They are the author's OTP and that means that they are perfect and they should have children right now. Point in case:

Guy was treating a girl like a shit on his sole, including throwing her naked out of tent, on a snow, with their friends present, all the while abusing her verbally in a worst way. But it’s okay, because when she almost died he realised his mistakes and apologised. Two scenes later, he was forgiven, because... fated mates?

The pathos

I know that many people don't like this type of scenes, but it's not my case. I’m reading by picturing images and not repeating words. I like sequences that I can imagine to be grand and glorious, even if they are a little corny. That said, the pathos scenes were the most disappointing ones for me. Maas likes to write parts that are more picturesquely exalted than logically possible [point in case: meeting of 5 armies/forces in the random patch of sand in Empire of Storms, and it being painted as ‘an Aelin’s great plan’. I laughed myself silly at that. But not taking logic and all the plot holes into consideration that was a nicely looking scene. In Kingdom of Ash that wasn’t the case. I would say that the author wanted to paint us a renaissance painting every 20 pages or so. In my opinion, every time she failed miserably. Each and every of those scenes was or to farfetched to be even remotely realistic, and evidently written only for a sake of the picture, or just plainly stupid.

Example, and it’s so priceless a scene, that I just need to share it: Battle of Orynth, 25th day or so (time in this book doesn’t exist), the 13. sacrificed themselves (like thousands before them but hush). And then, time stops: grieving Manon is going through the city, they open the gates for her (yes, the siege is still on), she goes to the place where they died, after her come out all of our main heroes, and half the city itself with ‘flowers, rocks and precious possessions’ and they lay it there in a tribute to these brave (evil till 2 months ago) witches. I honestly can’t remember when was the last time I saw such an abstract scene. It’s a material for an essay in itself. No, I could not take it seriously.

Additionally, it's hard to make an impact as every damn sentence is grand and lofty. In the end it became truly pathetic, Aelin vs Maeve was unreadable.

Character deaths:

Let's make a quick count: main characters in a series at the start of KoA: 12 secondary characters in a series at the start of KoA: 20ish minor and total background: a lot more

Death count: main: 0 secondary: 3 minor: 2 (11 if we try very hard)

Resurrections: 1 (possibly 3, but not gonna analyze it)

Did you feel emotions of this impossible war against this all-encompassing, all-powerful, invincible, immortal, cunning Evil with armies from 3 continents and 2 worlds? No? Me neither.

Oh well, but there were a lot of deaths of ordinary soldiers. I’m quite certain that all of Terrasen’s army was at least twice brought back to life for them to die in these numbers.

Logic or lack thereof

Oh, and let’s not forget about the Deus ex machina army of unbeatable, magical elves on wolves, from legends, living for the past thousands of years in the unreachable lands of the north, because they managed to run from the surprise attack 10 years earlier. Did I mention that they came from portals, which the whole book was telling us were impossible to make in this scenario? After the previous saviour army was already fighting there for a day? And that Aelin didn’t know they would come for sure (how did she contact them again?)? Even though they were waiting in the full armours for these portals? Ah, and also: that army didn’t do anything. They just came and fought for maybe 4 minutes. And there were just so many things like that!

And if we’re on the topic of armies I present you: ‘My favourite absurd-list in the series: allied armies’.

(As a comparison, in A Song of Ice and Fire by J.R.R Martin, in 7 kingdoms of Westeros, at the peak of war there were 7 forces present, but not all were even engaged in a war.)

First the ones that made sense:

Armies of Terrasen’s Lords (counted as one, not gonna nitpick)

The Khaganate army (also counted as one)

Galan Ashryver’s armada

Whitethorn fraction

Rebel Ironteeth witches

…should Dorian be counted as an ‘army’?

And there were some that did not:

Ansel of Briarcliff’s army

The Silent Assassins

Mycenians

Wild Men of the Fangs

Army of magical elves on wolves

And the ‘I don’t even know’ category:

Crochan witches

Overpowering and overreaching

Section title tells it all. The stakes were too high. I was honestly waiting for Aelin to become Super Saiyan and start to throw planets at Maeve and Erawan. I won’t spoil if this happened.

In my opinion it could be a really great series, if our list of villains ended with Arobynn and King of Adarlan, and the list of Aelin titles with an assassin and a princess. We could have had two main fight plots: one emotional with Arobynn, when Aelin would have to face a damage he had done to her, and overcome it. And the second one, with freeing Terrasen from Adarlan’s rule. That’s it. There was an asshole, power hungry king, who feared magic and wanted to rule the East part of a continent. A lot of plot, but not so much that we stopped to care, or didn’t have time to cover everything. We could really get to know what Terrasen and his people were like and not JUST GET TOLD that it was ‘the greatest place in the world’ every damn 20 pages.

Plus…should Dorian be counted as an ‘army’? It's a REALLY valid question.

Climaxes

IIf I have to write a list of things that disappointed me in this book, this review would be thrice its current size, but one of the worst grievances I have is the complete lack of acknowledging the plotlines that had been started. This book series has overall 4 372 pages (not counting novellas) and 12 main characters (still not gonna address this). All of them had their storylines and arcs but if they weren't tied up in the previous instalments they wouldn’t be in this one. I get it, Maeve and Erawan got beaten (in an extremely unsatisfactory way) but they were only a background in this series' plots.

Aelin Well, Aelin was one of 3 people (+2 paragraf-long insertion from Nesryn and Chaol) who got their own POV’s after the battle (second was technically Rowan, who was ‘Aelin’s POV outside of Aelin’.The third Dorian, who got almost a full two pages). And from this we got that: she got crowned, Aedion got his bond and that Maas have no idea how the city looks after weeks of siege. In her case what angered me the most was ‘Terrasen is my home’ subplot. Only in this tome we read at least 3 times that Aelin will be okay with dying, if only she gets to see Terrasen one last time, or if she get to die on Terrassen soil. But you know what? Maas forgot to write the scene where Aelin actually ‘comes in’.

Mannon Didn't get her own POV after the battle, but here’s what we’ve got: She is going to the Wastes with Croachans and Ironteeth. Whait. What? Yes, that was the ending of this 500+ years of feud. They fought together and they decided to unite their two species, completely forgetting more than half a millenia of slaughter. I can only hope that there were at least some talks behind the scenes… NO! F*** NO! This isn’t how it works!

Rowan, Dorian, Chaol, Yrene, Lysandra, Aedion, Lorcan, Elide, Nesryn, Sartaq Lived happily ever after

Secondary minor and total background characters Survived (I acknowledge that they would be ignored in most books’ epilogues, but this abomination is almost 1000 pages of nothing!!).

Good Scenes

That saying, this book actually had 4 good scenes:

Crochan witches go to war - gathering-forces-to-fight trope, which is my *love-always trope* so I’m not even sure if it was relatively good, or if I’m just a slut for this trope. It was still only a paragraph long though.

[recurring] The children’s tale Aelin repeated to herself to remember who she is.

‘Lorcan Lochan’ - the only marginally funny scene in the whole book

I actually found Darrel making Evangeline his heir charming. Even if circumstances were far-fetched at least.

But the words crime of this book? It was agonisingly, mind-numbingly boring. If the overexplaining and repetitions were to be taken out I highly doubt that there would be 300 pages left.

For these 33 hours of audiobook I suffered through I give it half a star. Because Abraxos exist.

Please see my garishly accurate cover on my instagram! You can also like it there :D

instagram | goodreads

#book #book review #bookworm #review #signofwolf-book_review #opinion #throne of glass #throne of glass series #throne of glass spoilers #sarah j maas #kingdom of ash #aelin galythinius #mary sunderland #tog #fantasy #fandom

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mordoriscalling · 3 years

Text

48 Weeks (1/4)

Throughout the 48 weeks that Geralt and Jaskier spend apart, their relationship develops.

Aka, part 3 of the Singer and the Sailor AU no one asked for but I wrote anyway. The events of this story happen after Stay or Sail Away but before Homecoming. Warnigns: some sexual content ahead!

Weeks 1-12

Week 1

The memory of everyone he left behind is still fresh in his mind. He clearly recalls how he embraced Ciri and Yen for the last time. The hugs were short but his daughter and ex-wife know that he needs to grow distanced before deployment. It hurts less this way.

Jaskier was there to say goodbye too, but it was different with him. He has no idea how all of this works, and they only had mere three weeks to enjoy each other’s company. They tried to make best of it but Geralt still wanted to detach himself in the last week. Jaskier reacted with panic and kept asking if he’d done something wrong.

The only wrong Jaskier’s ever done was to appear in Geralt’s life just like that, waltzing past his walls and defences with laughable ease. Jaskier is loud and bright, almost unbearably so, and everything is suddenly too dark and quiet when he isn’t there.

Geralt didn’t use to mind dark and quiet. He rather enjoyed them, in fact. Now, as he waits for Jaskier’s first video call, he’s vaguely annoyed that he allowed Jaskier to influence him like this in such a short period of time. The change is small but significant and he shouldn’t have let it happen, not so fast.

But then Jaskier’s face appears on the screen, his face lit up by a brilliant smile, and any negative thoughts suddenly fly out of Geralt’s mind.

“Hi, handsome,” Jaskier purrs.

“Hello,” Geralt replies.

“I must say,” Jaskier goes on in low voice, “the sight of you in the uniform does certain... things to me.”

Geralt looks down at his clothes with a bemused frown. He’s wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt with shoulder pads showing his rank, a black tie and black trousers. It’s nothing special. He has no idea what Jaskier sees but what he does know is that Jaskier’s gaze on him is distracting, so Geralt decides to change the subject. Clearing his throat, he asks, “How are you?”

Jaskier beams as if he asked the best possible question.

Week 2

“How the first two weeks on the ship have been?”

“Busy,” Geralt answers truthfully.

“And?” Jaskier prompts, after a moment of silence.

Geralt sighs, irritated. “And there’s a lot of work to do and some chaos, like always at the beginning.”

Jaskier chuckles. “This will have to suffice for now, but know this, White Wolf: I will get all your stories out of you.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and asks, “How are you?”

There’s that smile again.

Week 3

“How are you?”

Jaskier’s grin is blinding as he answers, “Honestly, Geralt, you’re just so sweet.”

Geralt grunts. Jaskier has to be mentally challenged in some way, to think that the basic human decency which Geralt displays is some kind of special gesture. (Or have had unpleasant experiences with past relationships but that doesn't seem right. Who would treat Jaskier like that?)

He only asks Jaskier about how he’s doing the first moment he can. It’s not much but Jaskier appears to think it is. Geralt’s not going to correct him, not when it makes Jaskier smile like that.

Week 4

“I wrote you a song.”

Geralt doesn’t know what to say to that.

“I’ll send you the recording, just tell me what you think.”

He only nods. As he listens to the song after they hang up, he can’t find any words to describe it. The beautiful lyrics tell a story of lovers camping in a forest, and Jaskier’s voice conveys so many emotions that Geralt’s chest aches.

Before the knows it, he listens to the song every evening, then it keeps replaying in his mind at all times. Jaskier’s voice is there with him, luring him towards thoughts that he shouldn’t entertain, and it all affects him in a way he struggles to express.

Week 5

“Thank you, siren.”

It’s the only words he’s found. Somehow, they seem to be enough for Jaskier.

Week 6

Jaskier is leaving on tour tomorrow, his first international one. He has a lot to say, but not necessarily on that topic.

“It turns out my agent and your ex-wife are friends from uni. I hate it, Geralt. I don’t want them to get along. I have a feeling I’m gonna have little say in my own life from now on.”

Geralt acknowledges Jaskier’s despair with a grunt that is barely noticed because Jaskier chatters on, “The only thing I’d hate more would be you knowing Triss too.”

Geralt frowns. There’s only one Triss he knows. “Triss Merigold?”

There’s a stunned pause and then, “What the fuck, Geralt –”

Week 7

Jaskier is in Europe now and Geralt is somewhere on the Atlantic but he can’t say anything else. Jaskier seems tired but Geralt finds out that it doesn’t make him any less talkative.

“I’m still not over the fact that you were right there the whole time –”

“Jaskier –”

“ – just two introductions away!” A huff. “Hey Jaskier,” he pitches his voice high, imitating how a woman would sound rather well, “do you know my friend Yennefer? Oh, and here’s her ex-husband, who’s gonna ruin you for other men, women, and everyone in between and outside of that spectrum.”

Geralt snorts.

“I could’ve had you for so much longer,” Jaskier laments, “But actually, I wouldn’t have, because it seems I’d have had no idea about your existence at all if not for Lambert? Those two introductions were possible for five goddamn years that Triss has been my agent but apparently, that’s not enough time for it to happen –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighs. He needs some sleep and rest. He misses home, already.

“Yes, dear?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt does want to tell him to shut up but Jaskier’s eyes are too distracting, so what comes out of his mouth is, “Sing something.”

Jaskier obliges with the brightest of smiles.

Week 8

“We can’t –”

“I know,” Jaskier replies, “but that’s the thrill of it, don’t you think, darling?”

Geralt clenches his jaw, breathing heavily. The temptation is so strong he almost trembles, like a bloody teenager. Memories don’t work in his favour now – he still remembers Jaskier’s scent, how his skin, mouth and cum tastes. It sets his nerves on fire, and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to start palming himself through his trousers as Jaskier keeps talking in that damned husky voice.

“You know... your moans are the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He bites down at his lip, hard.

“Moan for me, Geralt.”

Geralt does.

Week 9

It’s been more than two months and gloomy silence hangs between them as they stare at each other through the screen.

“Tell me something funny,” Jaskier says.

Geralt searches for any memory of the kind in his mind. When he finally finds it, he launches into the story, “There was that time when me, Eskel and Lambert went out and got so drunk that we blacked out. Next thing we know, we’re in some stranger’s flat, and Lambert’s wearing actual handcuffs, his hand tied to the guy’s ankle.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. We couldn’t find the keys to uncuff them anywhere and we couldn’t pick the lock either. Me and Eskel had to get clippers to set them free. We still have no idea how we got there.”

Jaskier starts chortling.

“That’s how Lambert met his boyfriend Aiden. They’ve been together for seven years now.”

Jaskier keeps cackling. When Geralt realises that listening to that – probably the most inelegant sound he’s ever heard in his life – warms him to his very core because it’s Jaskier’s laugh, there’s only one thought on his mind.

Fuck.

Week 10

“Another song?”

“Yes,” Jaskier admits, looking almost embarrassed, “I hope you like it.”

“Hmm.”

He knows he will. When he listens to the recording, he quickly finds out he wasn’t wrong. The song is more lively and dramatic than the first one, expressing the wonder of watching your lover move, and it feels like a promise. It makes Geralt look beyond the sea.

Week 11

“Thank you for the song, siren.”

Jaskier sighs in a love-sick way. “I wish I could kiss you right now. Have got the slightest idea what I’d do to you?”

Geralt smirks. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Jaskier moans and goes on to describe his fantasy in vivid detail.

Week 12

Geralt toys with the gold wolf signet as he waits for Jaskier’s call and tries not to drown in grim thoughts.

Being away from his family starts getting hard. The worst period of deployment begins – he hasn’t been away from home long enough to forget but just enough to miss his loved ones terribly and not be able to get over it. The very second his thoughts wander away from work at hand, he remembers Ciri’s laugh, Yen’s smile, his brother’s embraces and father’s gruffness.

Then there’s Jaskier, with his bloody bright smiles, charm, quick wit and endearing... everything. He makes it so much harder.

They should’ve just parted ways, Geralt muses. They shouldn’t have exchanged their “engagement rings” for safekeeping to give them back to each other after Geralt returns like it’s some ridiculous romance novel.

Jaskier’s ridiculous like that, though, and Geralt’s still hasn’t learnt to say no to him.

When Jaskier greets him cheerfully and asks him about how he’s doing, a smile tugs at Geralt’s lips as he answers, “Better now.”

Part 2

***

A/N: you can also read this on AO3.

The first song that Jaskier writes is in Icelandic IRL (and it’s so goddamn beautiful) but even the English lyrics are just so stunning, I can 100% imagine Jaskier singing that: This night is ours, spring in the forrest air Let’s pitch our tent among the berries over there. Lead me, my dearest, to the grove of yesterday Where the brook kindly whispers and the birches sway. Light locks in motion, lingering emotion A rose scented breeze from the Fae Dew drops glitter, the dale is quiet and fair Dreams coming true for lovers sleeping there Heather blushing in the evening sun’s last ray The cool quiet night comes after a perfect day Light locks in motion, lingering emotion A rose scented breeze from the Fae

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #the Sailor and the Singer AU #mildly nsft

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