#one to her or could b the fact that she's /forced/ to follow destiny's plan once it's set in stone

[hcppilyneveraxter]

[CISMALE, HE/HIM]. Hey, is that MICHAEL B. JORDAN, no that is just ZACHARIAH AVERY around Turtle Bay. I heard they are 33 years old, and their birthday is JANUARY 15TH, 1990. They rest their heads in the OCEANSIDE but they can mainly be found working as POLICE DETECTIVE. Some say they are CHARMING, HARDWORKING, PERSUASIVE and can be SERIOUS, UNFORGIVING, STUBBORN. If they had a theme song it would be, A SONG FOR DAD BY KEITH URBAN. I hear they are NATIVE, either way Turtle Bay is home and welcomes you!

BASICS:

Full Name: Zachariah Avery

Nicknames: Zach

Age: 33

DOB: January 15th, 1990

Hometown: Turtle Bay, South Carolina

Current location: Turtle Bay, South Carolina

Neighborhood: Oceanside

Occupation: Detective for TBPD

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship status: Single

Positive Traits: Charming, Hardworking, Persuasive

Negative Traits: Serious, Unforgiving, Stubborn

Theme song: A Song for Dad by Keith Urban

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

Face Claim: Michael B. Jordan

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Dark Brown

Height: 6 ft

Weight: 175 lbs

Build: Athletic

Tattoos: One with his last name, one for the TBPD, and a small one for his daughter Olivia

Piercings: None

FAMILY:

Mother: Destiny Avery

Father: Jerimiah Avery

Siblings: Isaiah Avery, Ashanti Avery

Children: Olivia, 10 (unbeknownst to everyone except Aunt Carrie)

Pet(s): Czechoslovakian Wolfdog named Ghost

BIO:

Growing up Zachariah Avery had everything he could ever wish for. He was surrounded by a warm and loving family, was well liked by his peers, and never wanted for anything. Sure his dad could be strict but Zach knew that they were Avery's and that meant there was a certain image they were expected to uphold. A reputation to protect Not only were they one of the founding families of Turtle Bay they were a black family in a predominately white town which Zachariah learned from a young age came with added scrutiny. As the oldest Zach took it upon himself to take care of his siblings and make sure they knew what was expected of them, often causing some friction particularly between he and Isaiah but Zachariah assured his siblings it was for their own interest. As a result, as they grew older Zach and his sister Ashanti remained close while Zach and his brother Isaiah grew further and further apart. Zay was far too lazy and selfish in Zachariah’s, opinion always putting himself and his desires before the family.

School was easy for Zach. He worked hard and got good grades, had a great group of friends, and played both basketball and soccer. From the time he was little Zachariah always knew he wanted to follow in his family’s footsteps. He respected the men that his father and his uncle Marcus had grown into and hoped that law enforcement would do the same for him. He had planned to join the police force right out of High School but his parents asked him to get a college degree first.

Zach settled on the University of North Carolina. It had a great criminal justice program and was close enough that he could still keep tabs on his family or make it home for family gatherings. It was during his senior year that Zachariah met Nicole Sunitha. She was in his criminal law class and he was immediately taken with her the moment he saw her walk through the door on the first day of class. As luck would have it they were paired together on a group project and Zach quickly fell for her intelligence in addition to her beauty. She was the full package. She challenged Zach for what felt like the first time in his life and it wasn't long before he fell in love.

The pair began dating and spent every moment they could get with each other, often wrapped in each other's arms. They had a beautiful love affair but as Zach's graduation rapidly approached he came to terms with the fact that they would never last. He had to return home to Turtle Bay and she had a couple years of classes left to take. He hadn't been home long when Nicole informed him that she was pregnant.

Zach knew how poorly this would reflect on his family if the word ever got out so he kept the whole thing a secret, only turning to his Aunt Carrie for advice. Zach had seen his daughter a few times over the years but mostly stuck to monetary support sending Nicole money every month and doing his best to support little Olivia from afar. He's managed to keep this quiet so far but in the back of Zach's mind he's always worried that one day his biggest secret could come to light and ruin his families reputation, one he's worked tirelessly to uphold, once and for all.

#Zach Avery:bio #Zach Avery: interactions #Zach Avery: face #Zach Avery: Starters #Zach Avery: Muse

[princesscolumbia]

New Session | Archive of Our Own

Lil' bit of drunk blogging tonight, happy Labor day eve! Be like m'boy O'brien's grampa, he was a union man!

Working on Fission again, and I got the outline out and feeling good about it! This is my oldest, most venerable fanfic with the greatest number of followers...on Fanfiction.net. Welp, I've kinda abandoned that ship a LONG time ago, so I'm posting to AO3 now (see link for this post). I was so glad that it all came back so readily after I started typing again, and so far I'm REALLY excited for the new chapter I'm working on. So, with that in mind, I'll be posting a chapter a day here, giving myself a deadline of... (*gets out calculator, uses sextant, asks Enterprise computer*) ...9 more days after today to get the current chapter done.

Dustjacket Summary:

Ranma is having A Day. The usual wacky relationship hijinks wind up with him tripping while running from his self-declared love interests (it has to do with martial arts, several foreign laws, and an okonomiyaki cart...long story) and falling off a roof (...again, long story) to pass through a stream of water from a broken pipe, triggering the magic that cursed him to turn into a girl with a splash of cold water. But today the wacky cranked right up into the weird when he DIDN'T collide with the other person who also happens to be standing in the spray of water.

Usagi is having a pleasant day, actually. She's spending time with her boyfriend, taking in parts of Tokyo she doesn't normally get to, and in all enjoying herself when she gets a call about a monster attack. She ducks into an alley and starts to transform into Sailor Moon when a pipe bursts and sprays her with water right as someone...doesn't collide with her falling from the roof above.

The destiny of both Ranma and Usagi has been altered by a random accident that nobody could have planned for or anticipated.

Nobody around them is even remotely prepared.

Time gets away from you.

This was ever apparent to Sailor Pluto, for whom time had done its level best to impersonate Houdini for over 3,000 years.

Contrary to the views of those she worked closely with (and completely beyond the ken of those she didn't), her job was not to force the timeline to her whimsy and lock every possible contingency away.  In fact, contingency locking was one of the very LAST things she considered as a sort of “Scorched Earth” policy.  Up until that point, she did her best to...nudge the course of things in the general direction of Crystal Tokyo.  Her girls (as she sometimes referred to the other Senshi) would handle the rest.  Terrible things, like World War II, tended to happen when she had to cap off a contingency timeline to keep the world from going Bad (with a capital 'B').  Very bad indeed.

The simple fact of the matter was that there was “Real” time, wherein things happened to most everyday mortals, and subjective time, something which Setsuna -a.k.a.- Sailor Pluto, had an over-abundance of.  Subjective time was a screwy thing.  One could literally spend YEARS idly dining with Ford Prefect at Millyways, then return to one's own “Real” time to have less than a second pass.  Conversely, one could chase an errant mouse that had somehow made it's way into Pluto Palace through the time gates on accident and dart back through after a mere second of realizing one's error, only to return approximately 30 years later, having one's friends all graduate, go to college, graduate from THAT, pursue careers and love, not necessarily in that order, have kids, raise them, and have THOSE kids start pursue careers and love, again not necessarily in that order.

Of course, being the Senshi of Time had its advantages.  One of those was that she could indiscriminately bounce through time at will.  The chief difficulty in this was finding the right moment to jump back to.  Schrodinger's Cat haunted Sailor Pluto like, well, ANY cat haunted Ranma Saotome.  No matter where she went, if she jumped blindly, she would affect the timestream in some way.  Viewing or not viewing the course of time had it's consequences, as she had to watch how events played out, all the way out, before she could decide on whether or not to change things around, and even then she had to explore loads of other branches of time, other contingencies, to see what affects her interference might have.  It was rather akin to watching a very long, very boring Gilligan's Island marathon where every episode was a repeat with only tiny variations, like Gilligan's hat being blue, and every episode being produced without a laugh track, score, and filmed in real time.  Oh, and not being allowed to use the fast forward button, 'cause you might MISS something.

And her associates wondered why she seemed so humorless.

One can understand how, after years of that kind of monotony, Sailor Pluto would choose to take a vacation, just get away from it all for a while.

She had used the odd quirks of her profession (that being, naturally, Guardian of Time) to hop out for a bit.  Take a few days off, go to Disneyworld, play with the micro-raptors...

...did we mention that she could take a vacation to literally any possible version of Earth conceivable?

Anyway, she strode into the gate room, popped off the silly mouse ears, and checked the “real” time clock.

Bugger, six months had passed.  She checked the Crystal Tokyo map; still there and holding strong at 98%...

Wait.

When did the Imperium Palace get eight cannons the size of skyscrapers, one for each point on the compass?  And what was with the red and black sub-tower in the Nerima district?

Sighing, Sailor Pluto grabbed a bag of Doritos, yanked the time staff out of her “stuffspace” pocket, sat down on the couch she had set up just for this purpose, and hit the magical staff equivalent of a rewind button.

[treppenwitzzarc]

the    curse    of    the    black    sun    is    considered    a    myth.    few    are    those    who    truly    believe    it    --    at    least,    until    the    mage    eltibald    prophesies    the    end    of    human    civilization    in    the    hands    of    sixty    girls    born    during    the    black    sun.    he    thought    that    the    girls    would    turn    into    cruels    creatures    &    bring    about    the    return    of    the    goddess    lilit,    therefore    setting    forth    the    end    of    the    world.    

his    interpretation    lacks    precision    &    rigor.    what    he    prophesies    as    the    return    of    lilit-niya    is    in    fact    the    unprecedented    birth    of    a    dragon.    the    confusion    is    due    to    the    mythological    figure    of    lilit    as    the    bloodthirtsy    beast,    hungry    for    sheep,    that    appears    in    werebbubb    mythology.    he    reads    about    women    being    given    shelter    from    the    abuses  �� of    men    and    immediately    links    it    to    the    cult,    without    considering    one    instant    that    it    might    only    be    forecasts    of    what    is    about    to    come.    

still,    you    only    need    a    few    decades    and    some    badly-done    rewriting    of    the    story    for    the    fear    to    be    instilled    in    people's    hearts.    everywhere,    we    whisper    that    sixty    girls    bearing    gold    crowns    will    fill    the    river    valleys    with    blood    if    no    one    tries    to    stop    them.    

what    the    curse    really    entails,    no    one    would    be    able    to    tell.    ishtar    has    some    ideas,    and    the    elven    sage    who    taught    her    everything,    malborne,    had    some    as    well,    but    really,    no    one    has    ever    taken    the    time    to    study    it.    

divination    mages    would    tell    you    that    a    solar    eclipse    tends    to    be    interpreted    as    a    warning    from    fate    that    things    might    get    more    complicated    than    intended    :    things    will    get    in    the    way    of    what    we    want    and    the    path    we    must    take    to    get    it.    this    is,    indeed,    what    happens    to    istar    :    she    becomes    an    obstacle    on    destiny's    path.    

the    girl    born    under    the    black    sun    does    not    belong    to    the    realm    of    possibilities.    she    has    almost    no    destiny    &    that    is    why    she    is    perceived    as    the    end.    she    escapes    the    schemes    and    machinations    of    men,    and    even    gods    would    have    trouble    predicting    what    she    might    or    might    no    do    in    the    future.    while    most    have    their    fate    set    in    stone,    each    choice    a    causal    reaction    to    past    actions,    ishtar    has    the    freedom    of    forever    reinventing    herself.    

this    freedom,    she    gains    it    from    being    part    of    fate    itself.    she    has    inner    insight    on    what    is    bound    to    happen,    frequent    glimpses    on    the    grand    scheme    of    things,    while    most    seers    can    only    hope    for    a    single    look,    once    every    blue    moon.    one    would    call    her    a    spy,    as    she    escapes    destiny's    scrutiny.    what    fate    sees    is    only    what    is    bound    to    happen    ;    one    choice    leading    to    another.    but    ishtar    __    being    given    the    right    to    see    beforehand    the    consequences    of    actions    she    has    yet    to    accomplish    __    has    the    luxury    of    not    making    a    choice    that    she    was    bound    to    make,    if    she    had    not    had    this    additional    insight    on    a    situation.

what    led    eltlibald    to    believe    that    the    girl    would    be    a    goddess-like    figure    is    that    each    prophecy    talks    of    power.    that    is    indeed    what    happens    to    ishtar    :    at    destiny's    source,    not    only    can    she    gain    prophecies,    but    power    as    well.    that    is    why    her    brand    of    magic    is    so    unique.    it    is    magic    itself,    wielded    by    hands    that    should    not    have    the    capacity    to    handle    it    :    those    with    too    much    hubris    that    have    tried    it    have    been    punished    by    fate,    their    minds    doomed    to    madness.    

magic    emerges    from    fate    itself    :    what    is    called    destiny    is    magic,    and    vice    versa.    two    people    are    linked    by    fate    because    a    magic    binding    has    occurred    between    them.    a    djinn    wish    is    an    excellent    example    of    that.    destiny    is    the    world    in    which    they    live    and    so    most    people,    sorcerers    and    sages    alike,    abide    by    its    rules.

that    is    why    most    elf    sages    are    also    experts    in    divination    :    in    order    to    fully    control    magic,    you    have    to    understand    its    source,    and    its    source    is    the    future,    in    which    all    possibilities    exist.    so    when    a    mage    invokes    fire,    they    do    not    create    it    out    of    thin    air,    they    actually    give    existence    to    something    that    may    happen.    

this    allows    mages    to    be    put    into    three    categories    :    

the    first    one    is    for    those    who    are    cursed,    destiny-chosen,    elf    sages    or    with    elder    blood.    they    do    not    follow    fate's    rules    :    they    can    invent    possibilities    out    of    thin    air    and    can    give    life    to    impossible    deeds.    this    is    what    allows    ciri    to    escape    the    confines    of    time    &    space    __    fate    does    not    work    on    her    as    it    does    on    others.    her    brand    of    magic    allows    her    to    change    the    rules    for    herself.    

the    second    one    is    for    the    elf    mages,    who    have    a    more    acute    understanding    of    fate,    that    they    see    as    a    welcoming    &    protective    deity,    making    it    easier    for    them    to    barter.    instead    of    paying    a    price,    they    exchange    :    by    protecting    fate's    realm    (the    forests,    the    creatures,    the    magic    sites),    fate    lends    them    enough    power    to    do    as    they    wish.    this    results    in    stronger    rituals    than    what    human    sorcerers    are    capable    of.    this    is    also    a    category    in    which    most    druids    can    fall,    even    if    human    druids    still    tend    to    imagine    magic    as    chaotic    &    malevolent,    tempering    its    effect    with    the    use    of    plants    and    potions.

finally,    human    sorcerers.    their    understanding    of    fate    is    very    dependent    on    their    age    :    most    learn    magic    in    an    academy    that    calls    it    chaos    &    therefore,    turns    it    into    a    foreign,    dangerous    force.    this    makes    it    harder    for    them    to    barter,    and    so    has    been    created    the    idea    of    balance    :    you    cannot    create    without    sacrifice.    each    spell    has    a    price    that    you    have    to    pay.    this    is    why,    for    a    thunderbolt    to    fall,    a    flower    has    to    wilt.    very    old    human    sorcerers    sometimes    gain    sufficient    knowledge    to    escape    the    confines    of    their    education,    but    it    is    rare        __    the    idea    too    ingrained,    and    that    is    why    human    mages    tend    to    be    less    powerful    than    elf    sages.    

#long post / #ISHTAR OF SILTIAMA headcanons . #also thats why stregobor was so set into getting rid of the girls/experimenting on them : he wanted to know the source of that power #and wanted it for himself ofc #also !! this is how the curse works on ishtar specifically bc she was born w the ability to perform magic #the curse would b very diff depending on the girls and their upbringing #like for instance the legends talk abt the dragon bc its the one thing fated for ishtar #just like the legends only mention a woman saving other women & children from men bc thats what renfri did #and there would b 58 other diff legends for the other girls #but the main point is that each girl is linked to destiny one way or another #ex: renfri had very strange... prophetic behaviours in the show or when she said she wouldn't be able to stop? could b the experimentation d #one to her or could b the fact that she's /forced/ to follow destiny's plan once it's set in stone #like the moment geralt decides to fight her then she has no choice but to fight him #even if she knows it'll b her death #like each girl has insight but the effect of that insight is very diff #and could lead to catastrophes #which is why it was prophesied as the end of the world oof) #... OK NOW IM DONE

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Hi you could write something in which Draco is in love with a Hufflepuff girl, but she is a little afraid of him and always runs away if they get too close, Draco gets a little desperate to get her attention and ends up using Amortentia  to make her fall in love with him ... You could have a little anguish, but end up with a happy ending?My first language is not English I'm sorry if you got confused

This is so creative Holy shit you guys have got some good ideas!

The potion. That GOD. DAMN. POTION. It all started with potions class. You were forced to be partners with Draco Malfoy. THE DRACO MALFOY. The one that scared the absolute daylights out of you. You were a relatively outgoing person, you were an absolute sweetheart to the first years in your house, how could Draco NOT notice you. Your hair was always in a ponytail, but there were these few strands that were always loose in the front that made the ponytail look adorable, though it was cleared you’d always get frustrated with them. Draco noticed these little things that you did, biting the end of pencils when you were focused, your habit of getting distracted easily and fidgeting with something like the ring on your finger, the fact that your best friend was always waiting outside your class and you’d usually get really excited when you knew you’d pass an exam. He was so in love it hurt. The poor guy would stay up at night sometimes and think about you. It was always when he couldn’t sleep. But the part that frustrated him the most is you wouldn’t talk to him. You always jumped or had this look that resembled pure terror whenever he’d talk to you. You’d start shaking, you’d nearly knocked things off your desk or you’d just apologize A LOT. Draco couldn’t understand this. Why were you afraid of him? 

There was this potions project that came up, Draco needed to work outside of class with you for. You loathed this. Because that meant having to talk, and talking meant the possibility of you messing up your words and saying something absolutely idiotic in front of him. It was no secret to your best friend Lila that you had this massive crush on the boy. To everyone else it just looked like he freaked you out just by BREATHING. Your mind couldn’t function around him, you always would trip, knock things over or stutter. So you kept quiet around him. Today that wasn’t possible. You needed to work with him and actually talk. You were a mess, always fucking up your words, shaking so bad you had to leave a couple of times, hiding your face behind large books. The next day was a bit different. You two needed specific books for this project and you knew EXACTLY where to get each one. “So you spend a lot of time in here?” Draco asked as you handed him a book. “Y-yeah. Granger u-usually studies with me.” You muttered. Well shit, of course you knew where everything was if you studied with Hermione. You handed him another book. “What books do you typically like to read?” Draco asked curiously. “U-uh... M-muggle ones u-usually older ones.” you said handing him another book. “Ah.” He nodded. You mistepped on the ladder and fell back, Draco dropping the books and catching you. Your face was becoming redder by the second and you jumped back. “T-t-thanks.” You said. “No problem. Can’t have you messing up that beautiful smile of yours.” He flirted making you nearly scream. Have you ever seen Inside out? If you have then you know that one scene with the boy that likes Riley and his brain screaming “GIRL. GIRL. GIRL.” over and over again. This was you. “I-I left something in p-potions I’ll b-be right back.” you squeaked out. You sprinted down the hall and practically screamed. How in the hell was this easy for Fred and George?

 Draco sighed. Great. He scared you. AGAIN. He picked up one of the many books he dropped before seeing the title. “Love potions”. Oh... Maybe just maybe he could use something here. No that would be absurd... Or would it. It certainly would get you talking to him... Maybe if he used... A little? No... Unless? Well you two did manage to finish the project, his excuse to see you again falling apart. Destiny worked in his favor however when he had to make a love potion for class. Amortentia. The class all had to say what they smelled. But you didn’t say anything, accepting the poor participation grade when it came. There was no way in hell you were admitting you smelled Draco in that cauldron. Draco slipped a small bit of the potion into a small vial, keeping it with him in case he changed his mind. Well he did. After saving your ass yet again from falling. “Do you enjoy falling on me or something?” He asked with a laugh. “I-I didn’t mean to f-fall f-for you-- I MEAN ON YOU!” You screamed. He blinked a few times. He just... He couldn’t take it anymore. So he sat by you one day. Scared the bejesus out of you naturally, but he slipped it in your drink. You sipped it and rose a brow. “That’s... Sweeter than I remember.” You muttered to yourself. Draco was good at potions. So why the fuck were you FUCKING UP EVEN MORE? 

More tripping, stumbling, falling, screaming, clumsy events were taking place. Did he mess up or something? He finally got an answer when you (yes. again.) tripped onto the poor guy and he caught you before you could hit the ground. “Y/n, you’ve got to stop falling for me like this, it’s getting ridiculous.” Draco teased. “It’s not my fault those silver eyes are really distracting!” You breathed out. Yep. There it was. Your face heated up. Where the fuck did that surge of confidence even come from!? “What was that Love?” Draco asked making your heart pound. You stood up straight. “You’re absolutely distracting dude, who is this attractive before they’re eighteen?” You asked. Oh God. Stop talking. PLEASE STOP FUCKING TALKING. “... I see.” Draco said with a small smile tugging at his lips. “Have your lips always looked that great or am I hallucinating?” you asked. He was trying really hard not to laugh at how quickly this coming out of your mouth. “Y/n, are you flirting with me?” He asked. “Ding ding ding, we have a winner.” You said. WHAT THE FUCK MAN!? SHUT THE FUCK UP PLEASE OR ELSE YOU’LL-- “I mean why else do you think I’m such a fuck up around you?” You snorted. SHIT. BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD-- Draco blinked. “What?” Draco asked, his reaction going from amused to “WAIT WHAT?”. “Yeah, I screw up all the time because you’re very distracting. Like have you seen that ass--” “OKAYYY Y/N!” Your friend said dragging you off. “What the fuck are you doing!?” Lila asked. “I don’t know, please make it stop-- Why is he coming over HERE!?” you whined. “I have to ask for clarification. You don’t hate me?” Draco asked. “HA! No! I’m ridiculously in love with you--” Lila slammed her hand over your mouth and smiled politely. “Y/n. Stop talking.” She begged. “For how long?” Draco asked, making sure this wasn’t coming from the potion. “Since our third year, did you know your hair brings out your eyes, because I sure did-- LILA HELP ME” You whined. “Excuse us Draco--” He pulled out another vial and pulled you forward. “Open.” He said. “Are we about to kiss right now--” He dropped a couple of droplets of a reversal potion in your mouth and you shot back. You coughed a couple of times because my God it tasted horrible. 

Lila rose a brow as Draco ran a hand over his face and you frowned. “Oh god. OH GOD OH GOD I FUCKED UP!” You groaned. Draco opened his mouth. “DON’T. SAY. A. WORD.” You groaned smacking your head onto the wall. Lila sighed and then it hit her. “wait a minute. That was Amortentia.” She said. Oh no. “YeS LILA I’M AwAre” You groaned. Draco inched back and she turned to him. “The potion only makes you attracted to--” “Who made it-- Yes Lila I’m aware of how it....” You leaned off the wall, turning to her. “Wait... a damn minute.” You said before looking at Draco. “Did you use a love potion on me!?” You asked. “I...” He sighed. “In my defense I didn’t mean for it to be that strong. I only wanted to make you hate me less!” He said. You blinked. “Hate you-- Draco I don’t hate you!” You said. “Well I know that now!” Draco said. You opened your mouth and then closed it. You sighed and just walked away. “Draco. Next time you have a crush GO TO THE BEST FRIEND. I swear boys are fucking idiots!” Lila groaned following after you. 

You avoided Draco like the plague, not even showing up to potions for a week. Draco hated this. He knew it was a bad plan, after all the potion would have to wear off eventually. But now you weren’t even talking or looking at him. He decided to give you your space, sitting outside in the courtyard rather than the great hall.

He sighed, closing his book when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see you. “Y/n... Look I am--” “Don’t. Give me a second okay?” You said before reaching in your bag. You held up a vial. “Truth serum?” Draco asked. “Yep.” You nodded. you uncorked the bottle and sighed. “Bottoms up.” You muttered before drinking some of it. Draco rose a brow. “I love you. I have since our third year. I constantly trip over everything because you literally are on my mind most of the time. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you. I don’t, truth be told I can’t even form proper English around you much less walk. You don’t have to say anything.” you finally said. Draco blinked a couple of times. He looked at the vial and sighed. “Mind if I take some of that?” he asked. You handed him the vial and he finished it off. “I love you. I have since our first year when I literally ran into a post watching you laugh at a prank Fred pulled. I used the love potion because I was under the impression you hated me, not that you loved me. You hide your emotions well, let me tell you. I won’t do it again and I’m genuinely sorry.” he said. You blinked a few times. Well at least you couldn’t lie. “I have to know this though and I’m so sorry... But do I actually have a great ass?” He teased making you blush and shake your head. “You’re something else Draco.” You said with a giggle. He smiled and took your hand into his. “I love you Y/n.” He said softly, taking your hands into his. “I love you too... And to answer your question yes, you have a fantastic ass.” You said making him laugh. He shook his head before kissing you, holding you close in his arms as he did. “I have wanted to do that for years.” you said with a laugh. He smiled and kissed your forehead. “We have a lot to catch you up on.” He said taking your hand. “Ugh... Studying. Damn it.” you grumbled. He turned around, fingers under your chin.

 “I didn’t mean classwork darling.”

#draco fuckingmalfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n

[cwnahyoung]

KWAK AHYOUNG’S ROYAL REPORT

who is this clover fourth tier royal? what is she about? what is she hiding? and who is she paying attention to? 

though she is not one to abide by orders and do what she is instructed to do to make her be ranked up to higher tiers, she didn’t think that filling out a report would be much of a big deal. a part of her wonders as to why the queen would want her to do this in the first place, considering she expected to do something more… verbal rather than something written. but she’d rather be writing about her experience so far as a “princess in training” in her room rather than going out and making sure she’s drinking tea the right way at a garden party. 

as she reads the prompts of which she should answer in her report, her brows furrowed. why was there so many questions? surely, she isn’t expected to answer all of them, is she? no. she is only expected to answer three at least… but perhaps she could get on their royal highnesses nerves as a way to continue with being at the fourth tier. she was comfortable here, even if she could be possibly be kicked out of this life if she continued with her fooling around any longer. she’ll give them what they want… she’ll give them way more than what they want from her. 

what would you say is your biggest fears? how would you cope if you were to face them in your life as a princess? 

what a loaded question! she already knew the answer to this question, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to let it be known to them of all people what it was. then again… perhaps if she went on about her answer, they’ll grow tired and end up not reading it all. perhaps she should do that with all of her answers from here on out! that wouldn’t be much of an issue, would it? 

she decides to save that particular question for later because obviously, she wants the least vulnerable answer to be the one the royals will be less likely to read. 

in fact, she finds herself looking through past a lot of the prompts. of course, she plans on answering all of them, but she wants to make sure she doesn’t immediately make the queen think she’s putting her heart on her sleeve. she’d rather die than let anyone be aware of that. 

TRIGGER WARNING FOR DEATH, DEPRESSION, EMOTIONAL ABUSE 

in the case you were not in your position in your kingdom right now, what else would you be doing in this moment? 

an easy question, really. she feels like she’s made it obvious to everyone about how she really didn’t want to be here. she did not wish to be living this life of luxury and power like her mother forced her to. she’s pretty sure she made some people question why she was here in the first place. even now, her heart still yearns for a certain path that grows distant from her every second she spends in the clover kingdom—or any of the kingdoms, for that matter. the most she can do is daydream… that, or have this whole competition for the throne to be over so she can go back to her normal life like she wanted to. 

she writes the following: 

“i wish to be a performer like my father. it has been my dream since i was merely a child. i have grown up loving music ever since the day i was born. had it not been for certain circumstances, i would try to pursue my music journey in another country far away from where the kingdoms are. perhaps, even farther away than where my family are. i’d like to believe my father would be happy for now, had i gone for that path rather than the current one i’m in now. as of now, his opinion doesn’t really affect my future anymore… unfortunately.” 

what would you do if your title was suddenly stripped and you were banished from the palace? 

an interesting question to consider and most definitely something the girl wouldn’t really seem to mind that much. though she’s found some company that’s made her stay at the clover kingdom, let alone the other kingdoms that surround the center of diamonds, she still would rather be anywhere else but in the position she was in right now. royal life was simply not ahyoung’s calling, no matter who or what tries to convince her otherwise. so, even though many people would consider banishment to be an awful punishment, she mainly saw it as an escape. a ticket to freedom provided by whatever action she has done. of course, she doesn’t have the balls to actually do something scandalous enough to get her banished, but if the opportunity was easier than it sounded… who was she to reject it? 

she writes down: 

“perhaps, i’d continue to live my life as it was before i arrived at the palace. even if my father is not here with me, meaning my journey to having a music career will be more difficult than it was before, i will continue to try and pursue that career path, as i believe it is my destiny. will it be even more complicated, as i’ll be known for my banishment? perhaps, but i could also use that as an opportunity to gain attention for what i wish to do in the future. the more people who will pay attention to me, the more likely i am to be successful in the music industry… right? that’s how it works, nowadays!” 

onto the next question that wasn’t anything too uncomfortable for her. 

if you could do something that would normally cost you your  title but without receiving those repercussions, what would it be?

an interesting question, as ahyoung couldn’t really see herself really breaking any rules just because she felt like it. if she wouldn’t have to get a bunch of scary punishments for it, she might’ve considered. but with how over-the-top the kingdoms were, especially the queen of clovers herself, ahyoung wouldn’t risk to do anything… however, if she were to not receive any kind of repercussions, her mind begins to delve into thoughts of what she could do. when she thinks of some ideas, she immediately writes them down on the paper so that she doesn’t forget. 

“i’d slap the queen of clovers in the face. i know that sounds very bold of me and i would never do that intentionally to hurt her majesty. but i feel like if i did that, i’d prove a point to let everyone know how much this entire process means so little to me. not only that, but if i took the opportunity to disrespect her majesty while also getting away with it, i can already imagine how my beloved mother would behave. and i love nothing more than to see her be embarrassed because it’s what she deserves for being so kind and lovely to me.” 

which other royal do you think is your biggest competition and why? would you eliminate them if given the chance? why why not? 

she wasn’t really sure if she had an answer for this. because if she had to be truthfully honest, she really didn’t care much about the throne. she was only here because her mother forced her to and she was willing to not try at all until the day she eventually finds herself kicked out of the palace for wasting the queen’s time. but of course, stubborn to make sure that the queen plans to not read through all of her answers, she decides to come up with a random answer to this question, based on how she interacts with others. 

“if i had to be honest, i think that baek dabin would be my biggest competition, considering we are both on the fourth tier in the clover kingdom. she likes to think of me as her main rival and while i don’t really see much point in the throne, i like poking fun into the rival concept every now and then because i think it’s entertaining how she thinks i’m actually trying when it comes to this whole entire ‘royalty turns to princess’ thing. and though i wouldn’t really consider him my biggest competition, i do want to be able to see if i can try and take choi jaejin down. i’m not particular fond of him. i feel like he patronizes me because of my low tier, but not in the way that han hyunsu does. while hyunsu is vocally arrogant and likes being upfront about his dislike for me, jaejin does it in a way that makes me feel uneasy rather than annoyed. really, i feel like i want the hearts prince to actually leave me alone rather than the other… who i don’t really mind much. that being said, though those are the people who i’d see as competition, i don’t think i’d try to eliminate them. i think that’s reaching a little too far, not to mention i think they have a better chance at getting the throne than me anyways. at least they want it.” 

if had had the choice to either a) gain the crown but your best friend is killed, or b) save your best friend but lose the crown, what would you do?

when she reads the word “best friend”, her mind automatically jumps to the thought of him: son junyoung. she’s known the prince since he was practically a baby and the two have been through a lot together, even spending a few years away from each other before rekindling their friendship when ahyoung arrived at the clover kingdom. he’s the person that made her feel comfortable in this new life of hers, considering he’s had more experience with it and he, being the kind hearted gentleman that he is, was willing to help her along the way. to think of a reality in which she was able to get the crown rather than him… that sounded unreal, especially given the fact that she feels he deserves it more than she does. it’s not only the fact that she saw no purpose in being official royalty, but it’s more on the fact that jun needed that crown. he needed it for the most selfless reasons, meanwhile ahyoung’s mother wanted her to get it for selfish reasons. 

besides… if she had to witness another death of a loved one that she could be able to prevent from happening, she could never forgive herself. she’s already lost her father. with the fact that she just got jjuni back in her life, she didn’t want to lose her precious friend yet again… but forever, this time. 

“i’d easily choose option b, in which i save my best friend but lose the crown. to me, the crown is not that much of a big deal. it is not the reason why i’ve decided to stay a little longer in the kingdom rather than up and quit. my friendships with everyone here is what keeps me going and what makes me try even a little at staying in the palace for longer than i want to. not to mention, i had just reunited with my best friend. to lose him all because i’ve decided to be selfish… that’d be a grave sin that i’d never ever be able to recover from.” 

what is your biggest desire? 

easily a question ahyoung could answer. she feels as if most of her answers from before were already indicating it. at the end of the day, what else could she want in life? her true dream life was answered in the first question she answered and though her path to getting to that dream career seems more impossible than it did before, kwak ahyoung still found herself holding onto a little bit of hope. 

even now, as a royal, she finds herself trying her best to surround herself with whatever she can get of that desire. she’d play the piano in one of the rooms in the palace and sing to random songs by herself so that she could be able to relieve her stress or anger or whatever upset emotion she felt in that present moment. no matter where she is, that desire always finds a way to reach out to her in the times she needs it, whether it be as solace or even as a friend. 

“music is my desire. it always has been and probably always will be. i still wish to be a musician, but i get enough joy playing the piano and singing songs to myself. i also enjoy going to opera shows in the hearts kingdom whenever i can, even if that’s not the style of singing i’m totally experienced in. in general, music is my remedy. it is my comfort. it is my love. i would die without it.”  

and it’s after this question that she returns to the question that threw her off in the first place. 

what is your biggest fear? 

“disappointing my father.” 

she wonders if it’s appropriate for her to write more. after all, she wants to ramble as much as she can so that no one would have the energy to read it… but at the same time, it’s hard to talk about. after all, it’s the reason why she’s here to begin with. her mother told her that the least she could do in honor of her dad is do the one thing he’s worked so hard to keep her from being, making it sound as if ahyoung’s wish to not be a princess was a burden to the whole family. and even if she hasn’t said it, a part of her wonders if her mom thinks the same as her. that if it hadn’t been for her, he’d still be here right now. 

it’s all ahyoung’s fault as to why she’s here. she just refuses to admit it because she wants to still find herself likeable.

she doesn’t want to believe her mother’s words, no matter how much they apply to her. 

what is your biggest secret? (when answering this question, know that this answer is confidential and only the highness of your kingdom will read it.) 

“fuck off.” 

they did not need to know about her guilt over the accident. no one needed to know that she was the one who was driving the car. that had she been more careful, this whole entire situation could’ve been avoided. sure she didn’t mean to do it. the accident was simply an accident! but even then, the girl wakes up in the middle of some nights drenched in sweat, haunted by the nightmares in which she sees the car crashing right into them, the car flipping over on its side and how she screams for her dad’s name before she sees black. 

she doesn’t trust herself to get behind the wheel. hell, she can’t even trust herself to be at the front seats. she knows it’s not her fault. she knows that it’s not her fault that the car came at her. their light was green, after all. it was the other driver’s fault. but even so, she remembers waking up in that hospital room and crying when she heard of the news. because at the end of the day, she was the one near him. she could’ve saved him at that moment. 

but she didn’t. 

what is your biggest regret? 

kwak ahyoung is a flawed human being. 

regardless if it was against her wishes, she could have complied with her mother’s pleas of getting her into the royal life earlier on. that way, she wouldn’t be as much of a burden in the family. 

she wouldn’t have burdened her father with a wish that he’d have to fight with the hopes of it coming true and seeing her smile. so that way, on the day after his funeral, she wouldn’t have been told by her mother about how she had to make it up to him for burdening him so long until the day that he died. 

that way, she wouldn’t have yelled at jun for leaving her for the royal life, seeing him doing it for his family as an “act of betrayal” because he told her a completely different reason. she wouldn’t have cursed at him and told him that she hope she’d never see him again. 

she wouldn’t be here in this palace, despite her wishes against it, because of the accident that was caused by her. because of her father’s sacrifice for her. 

with a sigh, she writes down her last answer before completing her report. 

“surviving.” 

#cwnroyalreport #( SOLO. ) #( TASK. ) #tagging bc mentioned! #cwndabin #cwnjaejin #cwnhyunsu #cwnjun

[depreshroom]

Analyzing Krel: Episode 3

It’s been more days than I wanted it to be and I’m sorry. But, here it is! t The next episode has more insight into him  but this one did have some really important messages so, y’know here I am.

To start off, we have the 3 rules of humanity after Aja and Krel are caught washing their hands with orange juice and eating messily at lunch..

-Those three rules being: 

Prepare for change

Embrace your mistakes

When in doubt, play with your phone.

Each of these are shown to be very important as 3below goes on, of course, Aja and Krel misunderstand it at first but the point here is their great enthusiasm. They really are trying their hardest. Aja had taken a bunch of “change” to school and of course Krel tried to hug Mrs.Janeth. Multiple times. At the end, when being confronted, Senor Uhl approaches them about their mistakes and they play with their phones. No, it doesn’t work but eventually we will see how these rules affect Krel..and maybe Aja too.

They come home, frustrated because the rules didn’t work out and Krel decides to make a mind reader. The first noticeable thing about this is, as we come in to see him work, we see him vibing for the first time in the series. Krel is simply in his element. He has his music, and his tools and he actually seems like he’s having fun.

Aja even asks if he’s having a very small party. I find it important that although he still views the planet as primitive at this point, the first time we see him truly enjoying himself is not on akiridion-5, but on Earth with music---something that came from Earth. He also is without anybody watching or judging him contributing to his more introverted personality. -He likes having his own down time--he needs his own down time.

Skipping towards after they destroy the planetarium, they sneak out to go find the mystery extraterrestrial (who we later learn is Stuart.) As with most episodes, this is kind of the peak, the message, and the point. Aja goes to look across Arcadia, and see what everyone is thinking. 

-Krel tries to use it, but says he isn’t picking anything up and fails, so instead of trying again he gives up. He simply says that “it’s hopeless.” That was something I thought was significant--that he gave up once he saw that he couldn’t do it, and he was only there for a small amount of time. As soon as he saw it wasn’t working the first time his immediate thought was to say not only that he cannot do it--but that it cannot be done at all, “It’s hopeless” This is before Aja tries, and really he wasn’t planning to give her a chance and I can only assume that this is because to him tech is his thing. It’s the one thing that Aja can’t have.

Then Aja says to let her try. The first thing I noticed about this is that Krel is really nervous and on-edge about his sister using his invention. He didn’t just say “be careful” multiple times but it was almost like he was mildly freaking out.  

Krel, (after she forcibly takes it away): Fine, but we need to increase it slowly.

Aja: Like this?

Krel, (said with annoyance): Not at all like this.

That’s the entire conversation before immediately x’s start to appear maybe one second after the other around his head, giving insight to his thought process as the mind reader is supposed to do. And what I find interesting about this is Aja didn’t even do anything, she was simply looking at him. Those x’s came fast too. By the quickness of how they appeared, it gave me the impression that it was to represent how fast his mind was going just seeing someone who admittedly can be quite reckless with his invention. It was like a small spiral, a chain line, as if he started thinking that Thing A might go wrong, only to realize that Things B, C, D can go wrong too.

Which is where his voice eventually cracks in desperation, as he says, “What? No! You’re gonna break it!” 

Aja still hasn’t even done anything so it was basically Krel just overthinking, overwhelming, and worrying himself in a matter of 10 seconds or so. Of course, Aja tells him to relax, and even as he does shut up for then, he is looking over her shoulder to make sure she isn’t messing anything up as she uses it. What’s great about this is that Aja’s thought process just as easily could have been shown, but instead Krel’s was. Krel is also the one who doesn’t follow his own wants and needs as easily, he doesn’t give in to his emotions like Aja, and he wasn’t the one who had run away his whole life. He also isn’t the one who outright says how he feels. That’s also why the fact that when he told Aja she wasn’t using it right at all is the annoyance in his voice conveys something--that goes on to be how he often expresses himself in front of others when he feels down or upset about something. 

Moving on, Aja uses the glasses, and finds herself overwhelmed with us, the humans, and the way we think, and she and Krel start talking about that.

Aja: “I mean all they think about is themselves and what others think of them. She’s worried about what he thinks about her, and all he’s thinking about is what that other person is thinking about him. Being human is difficult for everyone, it’s even hard for humans.”

Right after she says this, Krel looks down at the mind reader (which she threw to him and he caught on instinct) for a split second, and then just says, “I never thought about it that way. But you must focus, Aja. Listen. Remember why we’re here.”

When he says that he never thought about it that way, it’s likely that he isn’t only thinking about humans, because they’ve only been there for maybe a day or two. They don’t know anybody personally, nobody has annoyed them to that point, even Krel hasn’t said much bad about the planet...yet. It’s more likely he’s thinking about someone close to him, for instance, Aja. Krel doesn’t have as much empathy for others as Aja, so even though yes she was talking about the humans and their struggles, he is probably thinking about someone more relevant to him. How much does Aja struggle being forced into a certain destiny that she knows isn’t right for her?

Still, he goes on to tell Aja that she has to focus, and remember why they are there--likely the same thing he has been telling himself because while Aja did end up crying and expressing herself at the end of episode 2, Krel hasn’t yet at all really which is something he needs to do. What also might contribute is the fact that Krel, who actually participates in royal activities, has probably heard the line “Smile and wave” (no matter what) more times or has been faced with simply dealing with his sister’s absence multiple times. He is used to bottling up emotions, it’s been taught to him.

After Aja successfully uses the mind reader, Krel goes on to say, “It worked for you? I mean, I’m glad it worked.”

In a way, this line is kind of sad. Tech was Krel’s “thing” for lack of a better word. It was his skill that he had, that Aja wouldn’t be good at, it was his comfort. Once again going back to how we already saw the way their parents acted towards him vs. her. Aja had already been told that she was going to be good at her destiny, she had something going for her. By her being good at tech, it’s in a way taking away the one thing Krel is good at. I did notice this is also kind of how it went with Krel giving Aja the coronation tool. He had that, now he doesn’t. He had tech, now he doesn’t. Of course he still is much, much more superior but now she has tainted his ownership a bit.

Once they notice the extraterrestrial language among them (Stuart), they of course notice him saying their names, and Krel says, “That can’t possibly be good. It must be one of Morando’s agents.”

I really only pointed this out to acknowledge how he immediately jumped to conclusions, the worst conclusion possible actually. Of course with everything going on it’s definitely justified, but the difference when Aja replies is she says, “Only one way to find out.”  

Aja doesn’t say that it definitely is, but she for sure is mindful that it might be. Krel, on the other hand, immediately, not thinks---but knows, it’s bad news. He says “it can’t possibly”. Not only that, it’s the worst--the people who are actually after them. Out of all the galaxies, all the planets, Krel thinks that this one alien they spot is automatically one of the 7, maybe 8 bounty hunters specifically after him. He decided that in 5 seconds too. It’s just once again, Krel quickly--very quickly-- falling into this negative thinking pattern of “something bad is going to happen” like with Aja and the mind reader. 

Jump to where Steve punches Krel for calling him an idiot and an alien. (Poor sweet, sweet, socially clueless child.) Obviously Krel gets punched, he bleeds, and says, “I’m--I’m leaking fluid, what is this? I must be dying. Is this the end?”

Well, first of all, OH NO! NO, KREL! It’s gonna be alright! You’re okay!  

Second of all, Krel said that with true terror, he was serious. This is the third time in this episode that Krel’s quick and negative thinking pattern was represented, only this time was where it was most serious I’d say. Chances are, he felt mostly fine other than a small headache, it was the sight of the blood that set him off, from “leaking fluid” to “dying.” I wouldn’t say he was joking either being that this actually is his first time seeing blood, or at least the first time it just, came out of his nose. It was like a spiral, he was leaking fluid--he didn’t know what it was--he must be dying now, no ifs, ands, or buts. 

Last thing: Aja did indeed break Krel’s mind reader while chasing after Stuart, which he was kind upset about. Poor child.

In conclusion, Krel tends to overwhelm and worry himself when he thinks, ⅔ of those times, he thought it might as well be death because of the simplest clues. A single language? One of Morando’s bounty hunters. He leaks fluid? He’s dying. I’d also like to point out that somewhere in the episode, Vex did point out that they don’t know all of Earth’s languages. What if it simply happened to be any other language but English? Aja did also cry--she leaked fluid which was a known thing at this point. Why is this particular fluid automatically death? He’s not only pessimistic, but this attitude can cause him to panic. Krel was also happiest in his own setting--as he worked on tech alone with music in the background. I’m sure that pops up more as we go, but that was his happiest in this episode. Last but not least, he seems to be frustrated by Aja doing his job, and being good at his skill. It was almost like she was invading him.

Once again, if you read it, thank you! I will hopefully take less time for episode 4!

#poor poor child #i tried! #i-if anyone has thoughts I'd love to hear them! #krel tarron #aja tarron #toa stuart #tales of arcadia #3below #analyzing krel #blood tw

[buffyversefanfiction]

Slayer of Slayers

Warnings:I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the copyright or characters within the Buffyverse which includes but not limited to the television shows Buffy and Angel, as well as the Darkhorse comics series’ continuation.

15+ Strong to moderate violence, Graphic to mild descriptions of gore, and torture, sexually charged scenes, sexual innuendos, mild to strong language, and practices of witchcraft.

M/M, F/F, M/F, GEN, OTHER +

PART SEVEN LINK HERE

Part Eight - Vampire Island

Theo Frey’s life had well and truly been a series of impossible events, his birth being miraculous conception between slayer and vampire, one of whom should never be able to produce any form of life, his birth then followed by being abandoned in the past and forced to grow up in the past, only to witness the death of his adoptive parents at the hands of Drusilla, which was then followed by Theo becoming a vampire slayer, falling in love with vamp Tobias, and becoming known as the slayer of slayers. And if that was not enough impossibilities within his life, he then witnessed his love Tobias’ death at the hands of old one Illyria, only to then die himself after being shot by former watcher Rupert Giles that saw him coming back to life as the world’s first vampire to have turned without a siring. Theo’s world had continued to crash around him, repeatedly, but for once his latest surprise was one he was happy about, that being declared a king of vampires following his survival after being staked, and now he was on a mission to earn that title, by finding this infamous vampire island, home to the first-ever Hellmouth, and the only place in the world that would solidify his claim as king amongst vampires, making him the most dangerous creature on the planet as the prophecies foretold and the only thing standing in his way, was his mother, Buffy the vampire slayer…

Buffy Summers had been out of the slaying game for what felt like forever but, it had only been over a year since she disappeared to the middle of nowhere, and as she returned, following the revelation of Theo, she found herself patrolling, hunting, and researching, 24/7, as she struggled to deal with her son’s hatred towards her and his many evil deeds, which she blamed herself for. The last time she saw her son she called his bluff about being ready to kill her, luckily things went Buffy’s way, and he couldn’t kill her in the end, but still to see her child so distraught, so broken, almost broke the once preppy and feisty blonde-haired vampire slayer. However, the fact he could not bring himself to kill her gave Buffy some hope that there was something still there deep within him that she could reach and after hearing news of his plans to take out Drusilla, those hopes grew, only to be dashed after learning her son had become something of a king among vampires. Buffy and Willow had been deep in the books within Willow’s San Francisco apartment for days, as they sought out to learn all they could about Theo’s prophecy as the first vampire not to be sired by another, as they learned the unnerving news that mother would either kill a son or be killed by a son, before going on to learn about a prophecy going back many centuries which detailed a self-sired vampire reigning king of an island, vampire island, and how his blood would open the world’s first Hellmouth, as they began to realize the importance of his birth, and why he was born, with Buffy beginning to fear that not only could her son not be saved but she may have to be the one to stop him. And before long Buffy and Willow hired a boat, enlisted the help of fellow vampire slayer Faith Lehane, and Illyria, and took to the sea with ancient books, maps, and spells directly linked to this mystical island of vampires, as they hoped to find the island, and to get there and destroy the Hellmouth before Theo had a chance of opening it, claiming his undead throne, and unleashing hell unto the world. “This child of yours sure knows how to cause trouble I bet you're missing the good old days when you only had to try to keep me in line.” Faith joked with Buffy as they stood to the port of the big yacht-like boat that they had rented, both slayers looking out towards the sea. “Well, I would not go as far as saying I’m nostalgic about rogue Faith and Sunnydale High, but things were much simpler back then for sure.” Buffy laughed, appreciating Faith’s humor during a difficult time for her. “Speak for yourself B, I do not want to sound all savior-like and everything, but we are going to get through to him Buffy without having to kill him.” Faith responded as she remained determined about her believes over Theo being redeemable. “If we were certain about that, I’d have got Angel on this mission instead of his super smurf sidekick and you’d have had his witch frenemy join us,” Buffy confessed to the fellow slayer, a slayer she had once become enemies with but had over time rebuilt their friendship. “I’m the slayer no matter what, and deep down you are the same…if I have to choose between the world or my son I’ll choose the world, Angel will choose his son, I guess that makes him the better parent and me the better, killer.” “It will not come down to that Buffy, I did not come on this mission to kill your kid and neither did you, we will stop him without killing him, and then you will ground his ass for at least a decade or two and we’ll go get some drinks.” Faith told Buffy, knowing Buffy was right but also knowing she did not want to admit it to her. “Being a slayer has cost me so much, forced me to sacrifice so much, and although I hate that more than anything if it comes down to it, I will continue to make those sacrifices because that is what a slayer does,” Buffy said in a defeated sigh, knowing that this quest to find the island of vampires could end with her killing her own son.

Later that very same night Theo stood at the front of a large shipment containing ship looking at the nearby island, with blood on his mouth, the blood coming from the human passengers of the boat that he and his group of vampires fed on while hiding out in the darkest places of the ship, choosing to keep the captain alive so he could sail the boat while they hid from daylight, but chaining him to the wheel so he dared not escape. Theo couldn’t believe his eyes as he stared at the island from a distance, a hauntingly beautiful island, almost completely in darkness if it was not for the night’s moon in the sky, reflecting light off the water, he could not believe that this lost island was the home to the world’s first Hellmouth nor could he believe that this island would be his kingdom, his way to a throne he never knew even existed. As the boat sailed closer towards the island, his vampire companions appeared from out of the blind spots, with glee in their eyes, knowing they had found the only true home for their kind, completely oblivious to the fact that their king was beginning to question the path he had chosen so quickly after facing off with his nemesis Drusilla. Theo had wanted many things in his life, he wanted love which he found with Lucien Knight and then later the vampire Tobias, he wanted companionship which he once had with his bewitching best friend Ruby Moon, and he wanted a family to replace the one he lost, but he had never dreamt of being a king among monsters nor did he dream of one day becoming one of those monsters but fate had dealt their cards and Theo had no choice but to either accept or deny his destiny. Losing Tobias had awakened emotions within the vampire that he thought was long gone, human emotions, grief, sadness, and loss, and somehow through reunions with old friends, meeting his biological family, and turning against his mentor Drusilla, somewhere through all that he had felt a part of his old self slipping back through, a part he had hoped he killed a long time ago and apart if he wanted to become king, he would have to kill now. Theo’s only mission in life had been to avenge his parents and with an army, and more undead soldiers to add to that army, after opening the Hellmouth and claiming his undead kingdom, he knew with certainty he would achieve that goal, for even Drusilla herself could not outrun an entire army instructed to hunt her down at all costs, and if it meant ending the world, well that was just a sacrifice the slayer of slayers was willing to make. But as his minions anchored the boat Theo was shocked to suddenly see Sineya, the first slayer, appear standing within the sandy shores of the beach, staring right at him, as if she was staring right into his soul, and perhaps she was, as Theo suddenly felt a rush of guilt hit him hard, like a ton of bricks, causing him to gasp for a moment before like she had appeared, Sineya disappeared into the night’s air within a blink of the eyes. “We’re here boss!” One of his minions announced to him. “Time to go as far as we can before looking for coverage from the sun, then when night falls again we will get you to your throne.” “Yes,” Theo replied, as he then mumbled to himself, unimpressed by the island’s restrictions. “What kind of island meant for vampires has no way of blocking out the sun anyway?”

Buffy, Faith, Willow, and Illyria were not too far behind as the sun began to rise in the sky, the two slayers, witch, and goddess, drew closer to the infamous island of vampires, an island that Illyria herself had conquered many millenniums ago, back when bloodsuckers were nothing more than pets to her, messy pets whom she’d easily put down if they pestered her. All those years ago Illyria never really sense the true power of this island, thinking of it as nothing more than a home to bloodsuckers, but now as she grew closer to the island of vampires she began to sense its power more and more, a sense of untapped potential, the same sense she got from the slayer of slayers which only served as further evidence to the goddess that Theo Frey was indeed linked to the place, just like the prophecy foretold. As she stood behind the boat’s wheel, Willow Rosenberg, standing next to her, the two women seeing the island in their sight, Illyria knew that Willow too could feel the untapped power radiating from the island of the undead. “I know we’re going to win because we always do but what’s the odds, we win without having to kill Buffy’s son?” Willow asked Illyria, fearing her answer, but knowing Illyria would be honest about their odds. “The son of the slayer has survived far longer than I expected him to when we first met however, in this fight I believe in order to win, he must die, and I’m not one for losing,” Illyria answered honestly with a rare sign of reluctance which showed a sense of empathy towards the situation, a feeling which was rather new for the blue haired goddess. Before long Buffy, Willow, Illyria, and Faith had anchored the boats and were now on the sandy shores of the island, ready to face whatever awaited them on this prophesized island for vampire kind, but before they traveled further into the island, Buffy noticed another boat heading towards the island’s direction, instantly knowing it wasn’t Theo’s, as something in her gut told her that Angel was on that boat. “So, about not telling Angel about the mission…” Faith began to say to Buffy. “You decided to go against that I guess.” Buffy interrupted her fellow slayer, infuriated by her actions but understanding them at the same time. And so, Buffy waited for Angel’s ship to anchor itself near the island before deciding to get on the boat, going under the deck where Angel and Spike were hiding out from the sunlight, having had the help of Rupert Giles to sail the boat, and Xander Harris, because well he was Spike’s roommate, and one of Buffy’s best friends. “I told you she wouldn’t be happy with us tagging along on this one,” Spike said to Angel as the two vampires sat at a table within the kitchen room on the boat as Buffy walked in, the windows completely blacked out by carboard to protect the vampires from the sunlight. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t give a damn about what she wants.” Angel snapped at Spike while standing up to face Buffy, furious with the slayer for once again going behind his back regarding their son. “I was just trying to save you the pain if things go bad out there!” Buffy told Angel. “Theo’s about to bring about another apocalypse and if I don’t make it in time to save him then I will have to stop him.” “I will not let you hurt our son Buffy!” Angel argued with the slayer, furious to learn that she was prepared to kill her own child. “I don’t care if he does bring about the apocalypse, there’s always some apocalypse and we always defeat it, but I will not lose him again…I will not let you take him away from me again!” “Do you think I want to kill my son? No, but he’s not leaving us much choice, and once again it falls on me to choose between someone I love and the rest of the world, you have no idea what that is like so don’t you dare stand there and judge me!” Buffy shouted at the brooding vampire, as Spike sat there having no choice but to watch the two bickerings with each other awkwardly. “I have lost people too Buffy, you’re not the only one who has had to make sacrifices, but I refuse to let you go in there ready to kill

him if you need to. What happened to the girl ready to risk the world for her sister? Why does Dawn mean more to you than your own son?” Angel continued to argue with the slayer furiously. “Dawn was an innocent, she did nothing wrong and has continued to do nothing wrong, Theo was a cold-blooded killer long before he became a vampire-like his father, Dawn never chose her fate, she fought against it like we all did but Theo is willingly choosing this and if we do not stop before he opens that Hellmouth then we have to throw his ass in there,” Buffy replied, equally as furious as Angel, not liking the position she had found herself in, willing to do anything to make this not true, but ready to accept whatever fate may fall upon her son, as she once again had to choose to be a chosen one over all else. Buffy knew she had the sun to her advantage, and she could use it along with Illyria, Giles, Willow, Xander, and Faith, to get trekking through the vampire island, and get a head start on Angel and Spike, hoping however the big battle went down that she could spare Angel the pain of seeing their son’s death even if she could not spare herself the same pain, but with only a matter of hours to go, and no clue where they were going on this island, the chances of this getting messy seemed unavoidable.

Theo, of course, was one step ahead of the others, as he and his gang of vampires sought refuge from the sunlight within one of the islands’ caves, but instead of sleeping like his minions, Theo stayed up plotting, marking out what he could see of the island and patrolling the cave for any signs of them being ambushed, knowing the champions of this world would no doubt find their way here sooner or later, however, it was when the slayer of slayers went deeper into the caves that he once again saw Sineya appear in front of his eyes. Sineya, was no stranger to Theo, for the two had met before, a very long time ago, but her presence was still a shock considering the first-ever vampire slayer was killed long before his time, and many others, but as he saw her for the second time since arriving on the vampire island, he could not help but want to know the reason behind her presence. “Do you remember me?” Theo asked the primeval slayer, who nodded in agreement before he continued to ask. “Why are you here?” “The dirt beneath you is the same dirt I once stood on, do you not recognize a place you have been before? Much has changed but it still feels the same.” Sineya replied telepathically, her voice piercing Theo’s mind without the slayer so much as moving her lips. “No…the prophecies say this is vampire island, not slayer island.” Theo denied her claims almost instantly. “As long as there are vampires there are slayers…once only one slayer but now an army.” Sineya continued to telepathically speak, accessing Theo’s mind with ease. “We did not choose this path, but you did…now you must decide if you are vampire or slayer.” “I think I made that choice long before I actually became a vampire, how are you even here?” Theo responded coldly, not knowing that the primeval slayer could sense the uncertainty within his very soul. “You already are where you are looking to be but is it where you want to be?” Sineya informed him with her cryptic words, once again choosing to speak telepathically instead of out loud. “You can do what you came here to do but the question is, do you want to do it?” Suddenly, the first slayer once again vanished within the blink of the eye, but this time Theo noticed the caveman writings in front of him, within the depths of the cave, and as he began to decrypt what the pictures meant, he realized that through that very wall, was where the Hellmouth was located, he had somehow found it instinctively without even knowing, and that’s what Sineya was pointing out to him, forcing his hand to make his choice, but as ruthless, and evil, as Theo Frey could be, was he really ready to end the world just to claim an undead kingdom?

#buffythevampireslayer #buffy #btvs #angeltheseries #darkhorsecomics #buffyverse #fanfiction #fanfic #buffyfanfiction #angelfanfic #lgbtthemes #lgbtcharacters #lgbtcanoncharacters #buffysummers #angel #willowrosenberg #faithlehane #illyria #spike #originalcharacters #childrenofcharacters #vampireslayers #vampires #witches #werewolves #monsters #creatures #demons #buffyfamily #buffyfandom

[panharmonium]

no man can know his destiny...

...because if we told him what it was, he might decide to tell destiny to bugger off!

all right, folks.  i am obviously eight years late to this party (party?  maybe not party; that’s...maybe not the best word), and i am aware that everybody who was ever in this fandom has probably already consumed all the finale reaction posts that they ever needed to read.  i am putting this S5 finale round-up together for my own purposes anyway, because now that i’m no longer avoiding spoilers, i want to make sure i get all of my own thoughts down on paper before i accidentally run into anyone else’s. 

fair warning before anyone decides to invest their time: this post is sixteen single-spaced pages long.  i am putting it under a cut here, so feel free to scroll on by.  

with that said, off we go!

in a land of myth and a time of magic (i fell in love with a ten-year-old tv show):

so, to preface this, i think it’s pretty fair to say that i very rarely complain about merlin.

i watched the first episode of merlin on a complete whim - i was by myself, on a trip to atlanta, and despite the fact that i usually never sit down and just decide to watch random tv, i was scrolling around on netflix before bed and saw merlin and thought “oh hey, that’s always been on my list as something i thought i might like.”  i clicked it.  i watched it.  i thought it was going to be a silly, fun, low-investment show i could use to fill the spare time on my trip.

it was silly.  and it was fun.  it was not low-investment.  i fell in LOVE.

and i know this comes through in the way i write about it, like - the vast majority of the blogging i have done about merlin has come from a place of THIS THING IS GREAT AND I WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE IT’S GREAT.  sometimes the story will go places that stress me out or make me sad, but usually that hasn’t impacted my enjoyment, because generally, when i evaluate stories, i react more to my perception of the story’s integrity, as opposed to whether or not i personally ‘liked’ the ending.  so i might personally prefer stories that don’t end in tragedy, but if the story has earned its ending, with integrity, then i won’t feel any desire to criticize it.  i will talk about how sad i am or how low it made me feel, but if the story has earned its ending then i can’t - i just can’t argue with it.  i have to respect it.  

and i think i’ve demonstrated that well enough in all the other blogging i’ve done about merlin.  with 5.10 and 5.11 particularly; i felt those episodes were impossibly tragic and dark and SO unhappy, but i respected the storytelling, despite this.  i wasn’t hopping on here to make posts like ‘ugh this is getting so dark this episode sucks!!!’  i was writing about the story they were crafting - which, yes, WAS getting dark, certainly - and about how impactful it was (even when that impact was just “OUCH”).  i was still deeply engaged, at that time.

so - i think i have earned the right to say honestly that the following analysis does not come from a place of ‘this was SAD and that makes it automatically CRAPPY!!!’  that’s not how i assess things.  5.10 and 5.11 were devastating, but i respect them.  i loved watching them.  i would watch them again.  i thought that the show had the potential to pull off something masterful, after those two episodes.

but the one thing this series has always struggled with a little bit is follow-through.  bbc merlin is at its finest when they aren’t afraid to go barreling after the moral ambiguity and complexities that their show inherently contains (‘to kill the king,’ ‘the sorcerer’s shadow,’ ‘the disir,’ ‘the kindness of strangers,’ ‘the drawing of the dark,’ to name just a few), and they achieve real greatness in those moments.  but they sometimes pull back from the difficult questions they pose.  and i can’t tell if it’s that they’re deliberately chickening out, or if it’s just some variation of carelessness or ineptitude that makes them fumble the ball, but the end result is that they hit these amazing highs of “wow, i can’t believe we’re finally going there; we’re addressing the central conflict” and then all the complicated questions they asked just get dropped.   

it happens in ‘the sorcerer’s shadow’ (which is an amazing episode otherwise), when kilgharrah kind of...word-of-god handwaves away merlin’s conflict, saying ‘we just gotta wait for arthur to be king, that’s the right way to go about this.’  and they double down on this by having merlin say that it was gilli, not merlin, who had betrayed their kind - which is just not - that is not what that episode had been saying, up until that point!  the entire point of that episode was that yeah, merlin has in fact gotten himself into a position where he’s made a morally questionable decision to serve a regime that oppresses him and others like him.  they show us how conflicted he feels when he’s confronted by this reality.  they show us that he knows it’s true.  it was brilliantly done - and then they pulled WAY back.

but even then i don’t think it was like...unforgivable, at that point.  it doesn’t break the story’s integrity; i can definitely believe that merlin would take that tack - i’m not sure he’s quite ready to confront/accept the reality of his situation at that point.  so i get it.  it wouldn’t be a big deal - if the show had eventually addressed/followed through on this conflict in the end.

and i think the same is true of the episodes leading up to the finale.  they were dark and complicated and tragic, but they were telling an important story; and none of the terrible things we saw happening to the characters were dead-ends, story-wise.  there was a place for that story to go.  there was room for morgana to have her arc resolve in a meaningful way.  there was room for mordred’s arc to do the same.  the place in which we found ourselves at the end of 5.11 was as dark and complicated as merlin had ever been, and it was still bursting with potential.  

and then you watch the finale and it’s just - empty.  i described it as a paper castle in some other post, and that’s what it felt like.  no substance.  it was like they stuffed us on a bullet train and whizzed us past material that should have taken an entire season to handle, and you didn’t see any of it or feel anything because the trip took ten seconds and the scenery was a blur.

it honestly felt like they thought they had another season coming and then someone popped in and told them “actually you have to wrap this up in two episodes.”  i can’t think of another way to reasonably explain how dramatically the quality of the storytelling downshifts between 5.11 and 5.12.  i wasn’t watching the show then, so i don’t know, but it’s - at least if that had been the case, i would UNDERSTAND what had happened.  it’s just insanity, otherwise.

so anyway, with all that said, here are my own reasons for why i think the last two episodes were objectively bad writing, as opposed to just writing i don’t personally like.  nobody is obligated to agree with me on any of these points, but i’m also not putting them up here to debate them, really - i truly believe that almost everything i watched in the last two episodes was poorly-conceived.  

(there’s an entirely different discussion to be had, of course, about the relative merits of ending your, uh, hopeful fantasy story on a bummer of a death knell, and i might touch on that later, but that’s a little bit more subject to personal preference, and honestly, it’s not the point i’m trying to make here, because to be frank, these episodes are bad without even getting into who lives and who dies.)

i. plot contrivances: EVERYWHERE.

i don’t mean plot devices.  plot devices are important, in a story.  a plot device is something like how merlin throws excalibur into the lake in 1.09, and then is able to retrieve it in 3.13 because of a choice he made to show someone compassion in 2.09, and thus he is able to save the day and defeat the undead.  excalibur is a plot device, in that scenario - the ability to use it in 3.13 unfolds organically.

a plot contrivance, on the other hand, is artificial.  it’s unnaturally convenient.  it doesn’t feel convincing.  it’s what you reach for when you can’t think of a way to make something happen, but a writer is supposed to look at these things when they edit and think ‘hey.  if i can’t make this happen without it being contrived, maybe it shouldn’t happen.  maybe i need to look at this again.’

so like, from the very beginning of 5.12, we have:

the face-sucker slug.  never seen one before.  never heard of it before.  never given any indication that any such creature ever existed.  never given any indication that “stealing” magic was something that could even happen.  no idea where morgana found it.  created for and introduced in this very episode, just to give merlin a reason to go to the crystal cave; removed from the episode ten minutes after it’s introduced, forgotten.

gwaine’s sudden girlfriend.  NEVER SEEN HER BEFORE.  NEVER HEARD OF HER BEFORE.  NEVER GIVEN ANY INDICATION THAT ANY SUCH CREATURE EVER EXISTED.  where does she come from?  why do we care?  (surprise: we don’t.)  created for and introduced in this very episode for the sole purpose of explaining how morgana could get the information she needed to interfere with everyone’s plans, which was a contrived idea in and of itself, because it relied completely on making gwaine act like the kind of dope who tells a civilian military secrets.  

you just.  you can’t.  if your plot point can’t function without a) introducing a brand new character in the penultimate episode of your show and b) forcing a long-standing character to do something they just wouldn’t do, you can’t use it.  you just can’t.  you have to figure out something else.

this lady’s very existence is nonsense.  absolutely, utterly contrived.  to waste that much time on a character we’ve never seen before and don’t care about, in the last two hours of your five-season show...incredible.

morgana’s army.  they outnumber camelot’s forces “five to one.”  where did they come from?  how did she amass such a force?  in season 4 she was losing all her allies - the episode with annis and caerleon was specifically designed to show us how people were turning from her methods and aligning with arthur.  and then she spent two years in a pit.  how did she amass such a force in such a short period of time?  what could she offer them?  why do they fight for her?  there is no explanation of who the “saxons” are or what they want - the show just needed an army for camlann.

aithusa.  aithusa was, apparently, just a vehicle to enable mordred to obtain a blade forged in the dragon’s breath.  beyond that, he served no purpose.  he literally just vanishes, along with that entire storyline - the future of the dragons, everything - just dropped, forgotten, never mentioned again.

morgana in the crystal cave.  “gee, i finally caught merlin, the guy who’s supposed to be my doom.  i think i’ll just...trap him behind some rocks.  wouldn’t want to kill him, while i have him completely powerless and at my mercy.  how then would he escape from this super powerful magical cave and ensure that the next step in this impossibly weak plot unfolds?”

the crystal cave itself.  what is the entire point of this detour?  killing time while arthur and merlin are separated?  i mean, the whole “merlin loses his magic for all of five minutes” thing was a contrivance itself, just to ensure that merlin and arthur had a reason to be separated during the battle.  but even putting that aside, once merlin is in there, and balinor says ‘you have to go into the light to discover who you truly are, you have power of which you cannot conceive’ - what purpose did that serve?  all we see merlin do once he gets to camlann is call down some lightning.  he’s done that before.  he...he did that in season one.  

the entire detour in the crystal cave changed nothing.  it was a contrivance to mark time so merlin didn’t arrive at camlann at the same time as everybody else.

arthur at camlann.  the idea that we are supposed to believe that arthur somehow finds himself all alone on that battlefield, long enough for mordred to sneak up on him and stab him and for him not be found by a single other human being until merlin shows up.  he is the KING.  there is no conceivable circumstance where his army lets him go wandering around by himself after the battle has been mostly won.  it doesn’t make sense.  it isn’t believable.  it’s a contrivance to make sure mordred has an opportunity to get him.

“only the sidhe possess such magic.”  the SIDHE?????  you guys.  the last time we saw the sidhe was in that gooftastically wonderful filler episode where a pixie wanted to bone gaius.  you can’t - you just - you can’t center your entire ‘this is how we save arthur’ plan on a race of beings that we haven’t heard of since early season 3 and which we never knew anything more about than that they once possessed a farting princess.

“not without the horses.”  are you telling me.  that the reason they don’t make it to this fabulous isle in time.  is because.  their horses.  were conveniently scared away. that’s what killed the glorious once and future king.  the horses ran off.  

and the horses conveniently ran off because they were conveniently scared away by morgana, who conveniently happened to show up because she was conveniently put in a position to extract information from someone who conveniently knew where arthur was going - all of this, of course, predicated on the impossible-to-believe assumption that a) gwen would ever tell anybody where arthur was going, when the stakes were this high, when nobody needed to know and camelot had already fallen prey to spies multiple times, and b) that gwaine and percival would, if they did for some reason know where arthur was headed, be so foolish as to literally serve themselves up to morgana on a plate, when they know that the whole point of this scheme is that they WANT morgana to hang out in brineved wasting her time in order to allow arthur to reach the isle safely. 

I SAY AGAIN: if your plot point cannot function without making characters do things we just do not believe they would do, you can’t use it.  you can’t.  you have to revisit what you’re doing.  you can’t just make anything happen that you want to in order to drive the story to the place you want it to go.  it has to make sense.

kilgharrah.  is called just in time to deliver a pat explanation of the ending, but not in time to shuttle arthur over to the isle?  merlin could have called for a ride ages ago. merlin and arthur weren’t traveling fast, or far.  it’s not like kilgharrah was having that much trouble getting around.  we see that he handles carrying the two of them just fine.  we see that he flies away, zoop, no problem.  there is no reason for him not to have been called even a single hour sooner, other than that the plot demanded that he could not be, because the plot demanded that arthur not get there in time.  

it breaks the boundaries of disbelief.  it takes you right out of the story.  it reminds you, inappropriately, that all of this is a thing someone planned (poorly).  all of it is contrived.

ii. dropped plotlines

i can’t believe i actually have to say this.  

i’ve seen tv shows tank before, but usually, when tv shows tank, it’s just that the quality of their writing has declined, and they’ve resorted to resolving their plotlines in ill-conceived ways. 

i have never, in my life, seen a tv show DROP all of its major plotlines before it ends.  i have never seen a tv show just.  FORGET.  to address their premise.  never.  i still can’t believe it actually happened.  i’m sitting here trying to remember if the merlin finale was actually some kind of anxiety-induced fever dream i had while i was gearing myself up to watch the last few episodes.  

merlin bbc had, at its outset, two major plotlines.  these would be supplemented later by other throughlines (many of which were also dropped), but the two major ones always stayed the same, one for arthur and one for merlin:

for arthur, the question of him one day becoming the greatest king in history and uniting the land of albion 

for merlin, the question of him one day liberating the magical community from oppression and being able to live free from fear

those were the two constant throughlines in this show, from episode one.  the struggle to unite the land of albion, and the struggle to make the land a free and just one for ALL of its people, not just those without magic.  

this show, somehow, ended without actually addressing either of these things.

it’s amazing.  i don’t even know how they managed it.  somehow, this show ended without actually ending.

to elaborate on this (and other dropped plots):

a) the once and future king: we never see a united albion.  the show is driving at it, in seasons 4 and 5, when arthur makes peace with annis in S4, and then gets annis’s permission to travel through her lands in 5.01, and then helps Mithian’s father in S5, and makes peace with odin in 5.04, and then tries to make peace with the sarrum in 5.08, and it’s all making sense, and you expect that plotline to continue until we see its eventual fulfillment at the end of the show.  you would expect, if this were supposed to be such an important thing, that the big struggle at the end of the series would have been all the peoples of albion united together against a threat.  

but we never see any of these kingdoms again.  we never hear a peep out of them. no one ever mentions them.  it’s like they all just vanished into the wind.  as far as we’re aware, camelot fights morgana’s army on their own - it’s like annis and odin and godwyn and rodor and those five kings that came together to sign the treaty in 2.10 never existed.  

the dragon says at the end, “all you have dreamt of building has come to pass,” but we’re just like - WHERE?  we literally didn’t see it!  it was never shown to happen! you can’t just say that the most important outcome of your five-season series happened when it never did!  it demonstrably NEVER DID!  you can’t…..oh my god, you can’t...try to end your show offscreen, lol; i don’t know what else to say!

look - this is something i wrote before i knew how the series ended, when i was considering the possibility of arthur dying:

i wrote that before i even knew what happened.  that’s not the result of, you know, retroactive complaining because they killed a character and i didn’t like it.  i was doubting the idea that they would even be able to kill arthur, because i legitimately didn’t believe the show had shown us the uniting of albion yet (and they hadn’t, lol).  

it just...it truly doesn’t make sense.  something got tangled as they approached these last episodes.  in 5.10, finna tells merlin, “without you, emrys, arthur cannot build the new world we all long for,” indicating that it hasn’t been built yet.  but that scene takes place just a few weeks before the finale - you’re saying “the new world” hadn’t yet been accomplished at that point, but now, a few week later, it has?  arthur didn’t DO ANYTHING in that interval!  we saw camelot fight off a bunch of invaders (alone) like they’ve done a billion times before.  there was nothing to hint that now albion is united.  

and if finna was referring to the “new world” meaning a magical world, i mean - arthur didn’t do anything to build that, either.  he died.

something happened.  some wire got crossed.  i don’t know what it was, but it meant that the show ended without actually closing out Main Plotline #1.  

b) one day, we will be free: this show also somehow managed to end without addressing the plight of the magical community, which was THE central conflict of the show for all five seasons.  more than that, it was the show’s premise - it was how they crafted their entire idea; it was one of two defining features of their pitch to BBC: that they would “wind back the clock” to when the characters were young, and that magic in this universe would be outlawed.  

they literally abandoned the show’s premise.  the episode directly preceding the finale was entirely about camelot’s wrongdoing and the right of magic-users to stand up and fight for their rights.  it is not a crime to fight for the right to be who you are.  and then we literally never heard a word about this struggle again.  it was dropped like a hot sack of bricks.  

IMPOSSIBLE. 

and yet 

it’s just left, twisting in the wind.  we have no idea what happened.  the one and only glimpse of camelot that we get at the end of this show has nothing to do with magic; it’s grim and somber people chanting ‘long live the queen’ in the throne room.  and then we’re gone from that place, forever, never to return.  it’s like they don’t even remember that ‘freedom for magical folk!’ was the driving source of conflict for the entire show.  you would never have known that “magical oppression” was ever a feature in this show, if you just watched the end.  camelot’s wrongs are never addressed, never referred to, never amended.  the fate of the magical community is never hinted at.  we don’t have any inkling of what happened to those people.  we literally do not even have any indication of whether the magic ban was lifted.  

it’s like none of that ever existed.  it’s like the show just FORGOT its entire premise. 

this truly might be the most unbelievable thing about the finale, for me.  i’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it.  in a roomful of writers and editors and producers, not a single person pointed out “hey uhhhh...we haven’t actually resolved either of our plots?”

i was exposed to enough vague reactions from fans to expect the finale to be disappointing.  i assumed that the show would resolve its major plotlines in ways that i either didn’t approve of or found unsatisfying.  

i did NOT expect them not to resolve their major plotlines at all.

i have never seen a tv show literally forget to end.  never.  never seen that happen before in my life.

c.) i am the last of my kind: the reveal of merlin as a dragonlord ushered in a third important plotline - his responsibility to the dragons, his duty to protect them and help them thrive.  and the question was always ‘all right, so as a dragonlord, how is merlin going to ensure the survival of the dragons as a species, since they’ve been almost exterminated - .’  and that was also dropped.  like a hot potato.  like it never was.  we never get clarity on what the heck was going on with aithusa, and then at camlann, aithusa just vanishes.  gone.  literally never to be seen, mentioned, or wondered about again.

d) i am old, merlin: this is a smaller thing, but in 5.10 the show starts this subplot about kilgharrah being unwell and merlin suddenly confronting the idea that kilgharrah is not, in fact, immortal.  and it was actually very poignant and made me emotional despite how kilgharrah kind of drives us insane.  they set us up for the idea that we are going to lose him.  they set us up to expect that we will eventually see merlin arrive at a place where he doesn’t have that voice in his ear anymore, kind of like when luke goes to cloud city and obi-wan can’t help him.  

but then, in the finale, kilgharrah just shows up like he always does, and there’s no mention of anything that came before.  he’s fine.  

it’s - it’s inconsistent, it’s not appropriate; there’s no emotional throughline.  the exchange they have in 5.10 is such a beautiful moment, when a wavering merlin asks “what will i do without you?”

and kilgharrah says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, “you will remember me.”

that’s such a powerful thing.  for someone like merlin, for someone who has lost so many people who mattered to him - you can feel that line expand to cover miles and miles of ground.  it’s about more than just kilgharrah.

but having kilgharrah then show up at the end of the finale to deliver his neat little explanatory summary the same way he always does dilutes that previous moment down to almost non-meaning.  there’s no emotional consistency.  they emotionally prep us for this figure’s departure, and instead he shows up, the same as always, with no reference to the fact that a few episodes ago we were getting ready to watch him leave us. 

it’s not good writing.  it just isn’t good writing.

iii. i want you to always earn your ending

i think it’s hard to come to grips with the idea that bbc merlin was specifically a show whose kind of...big premise was being a deliciously torturous slow burn up to some massive and long-awaited reveal, and then it fizzled just before it gave the audience what it had been leading up to for five seasons.  it’s really just...wow.  i’ve seen shows fizzle before, obviously, but the fact that this one was specifically built on the idea that you were waiting for something momentous (and inevitable!) to happen - which then doesn’t happen?  that’s just...hoo boy.   

the long-awaited, promised “payoff” doesn’t happen in any way that is convincing or satisfying or remotely plausible.  it’s a little walk in the woods, and it ultimately doesn’t matter, because as soon as it’s over, so is the show, and everybody except merlin is long dead.  

not with a bang, but with a whimper, indeed.

for a show that had its audience waiting on tenterhooks for five seasons for merlin’s secret to be stripped away, the fact that the show’s biggest “payoff” ended up carrying so little weight and feeling so unconvincing is truly a shame.  there was no way for the show to give this concept the weight it deserved by flying through it in thirty minutes.  the audience knows that there’s no way this could have been resolved so quickly, so everything that happens between the “reveal” (such as it was) and the end feels...false.  it doesn’t seem real.  it’s not believable.  it feels (again, to use the word that truly sums up the entire spirit of this finale) contrived.  rushed and squished together to be neatly tied up in the time they had available.

and that’s poor craftsmanship.  stories shouldn’t feel like ‘well, i needed to reach x destination no matter what, so i made this that and the other thing happen to ensure that we got there.’  a reader/viewer shouldn’t be able to sense the presence of the author.  they shouldn’t be able to feel the hand of god reaching in and arranging pieces to force a conclusion or extract an emotion that hasn’t been earned.  

stories, if they are crafted appropriately, should feel like they have no author at all.  like they just are.  like everything that happens is the natural next step to whatever came before, as if events could not possibly have unfolded any other way.  and i don’t feel like the “reveal” and arthur’s reaction to it met those criteria.  all the supposedly super sad and emotional moments they were having at the end made me feel absolutely nothing, because the things arthur says don’t feel real.  they haven’t been earned in-story.  i felt like i was watching that sequence from a hundred miles away...just like...clinical.  removed.  like i was taken completely out of the story.  like i was in the lighting booth of a theater watching some scripted scene play out below me.    

(and this might be the time to mention that this has NOTHING to do with the actors.  the entire cast was killing it.  they were AMAZING.  their performance threatened to wring emotion out of me even despite me being completely unconvinced by the idea of what was happening.)

but that aside - how can you stay immersed in something when you can feel the creator’s hand coming down and forcing a resolution that doesn’t make sense, that hasn’t been earned?  it snaps you right out of the suspension of disbelief that all stories require you to maintain in order for you to engage with them.  the writers needed arthur to say these things sometime before the end of the show, and so he says them, regardless of whether or not it would ever actually happen like that.  but i didn’t believe it, because it wouldn’t have happened like that, and so the emotional impact was zero.

here’s the truth: you can’t use lines like “i want you to always be you” and expect me to get weepy about it when you haven’t earned that kind of resolution.  it’s a false tearjerker.  the writers are relying on our previous emotional attachment to these characters and our burning desire to see merlin validated in order to slip a contrived resolution past us without actually doing the work to make it plausible.  they’re playing on our affections in order to cover up the structural shortcomings of the story they cobbled together.

i don’t like when a story tries to manipulate me like that.  i’m not going to play that game.

iv. you are destined to be albion’s greatest king (*thor face* are you, though?)

i think there are probably some people out there for whom arthur’s death would have been a dealbreaker no matter what the rest of the story looked like.  i respect that.

i’m in the camp where i could have accepted the ‘legend-compliant’ ending, if only it had been earned.  as it is, arthur is never allowed to fully realize himself before he dies.  the show keeps saying, and i quote, “one day you will be the greatest king this land has ever known,” but arthur skips off to avalon after having reigned for a whopping total of three years, during which time he is not shown to accomplish the only goal that was prophesied for him (uniting the land of albion) and during which time he also becomes further entrenched in his father’s anti-magic views (along with the hypocrisy of using magic for his own purposes), as opposed to ever seeing the error of his ways.  he doesn’t right his father’s wrongs.  he doesn’t usher in justice and freedom for all camelot’s people.  he doesn’t change the status quo in camelot much at all, to be honest - and then he dies.  and they try to tell us “there will never be another like [him].”

how?  how can that not fall completely flat?  he hasn’t accomplished his goal yet!  he hasn’t become what they’ve kept telling us he will become.  

so i can understand the ultimate plan of arthur shuffling off this mortal coil and being prophesied to return, and i could even accept that as an appropriate ending, but not when it hasn’t been earned.  the way it actually unfolded, watching this moment feels like we skipped a season somewhere.  it feels like a sham.

we’re being asked to give arthur credit for something he did not actually achieve, and it makes the whole thing feel like a farce.

v. gratuitousness and inconsistency

i had no emotional reaction when i realized they had actually killed gwaine.  

that is insane, because you know how much i love him.  but his death was so ridiculous that I actually started laughing in disbelief.  and that in and of itself should be a sign that something wasn’t working.  when your emotional beats are landing this wrong - falling this flat - something has slid fundamentally sideways with your storytelling. 

i laughed when they killed my favorite knight!  but what other reaction was i supposed to have?  it was laughably silly!  the premise itself was already foolish - that gwaine and percival would even come out here and endanger arthur in that way - and then gwaine dies because morgana used a nathair to extract information from him?  we’ve seen morgana use the nathair twice before!  she tortured elyan with it.  she used it on alator.  neither of them died.  it’s never been indicated that being tortured with this creature will kill you. which isn’t to say that it can’t be the case, but from a writing perspective, if you’re going to use a sudden inconsistency to kill a major character, it’s noticeable!  it’s jarring!  and it makes us feel, once again, that the writers just grasped at any little thing they could think of to make what they wanted to happen happen.

and then there’s the whole question of why they wanted gwaine to die in the first place.  what purpose did it serve?  gwaine didn’t have to die in order for morgana to get the information the writers wanted her to have.  and you’d assume that if they still killed him after that, that there would be a reason for it, or that it would at least...matter, somehow, but - WE LITERALLY NEVER HEAR ABOUT HIM AGAIN LOL.  i wasn’t even sure he was dead at first.  that’s how insignificant it felt.  i felt like zuko in the ember island players.

that’s it.  we never see him or percival again after that scene.  there’s this weird moment where percival examines a footprint and the implication is that he’s going to follow morgana or something, but then it never happens.  it’s like the showrunners ran out of time and were like ‘ok well, we just won’t be able to get back to that dangling thread.’  they gratuitously axed their most developed knight and then forgot they did it.

that’s why i laughed.  it was so unbelievably bad - there was literally nothing else for me to do.

vi. let the bodies hit the floor (but like, anticlimactically)

i don’t feel like i need to examine mordred and morgana’s fates too closely, because i suspect the subject of “they deserved better” has already been done to death, and that’s kind of a different conversation than what i’m dealing with here.  i’m not here right now to argue that they should have lived (though of course, yeah, i have my opinions on what would have made a better story), i’m just here to deal with how ineffectively the story we did get was executed.

one thing that amazes me is that when i watched the S5 deleted scenes, i realized that the showrunners did in fact originally have the right ideas about making morgana and mordred’s arcs deeper/more nuanced, but somehow these ideas never made it into the final cut.  there are two deleted scenes that change so much about what could have been - one where arthur and merlin are talking about morgana and arthur is expressing regret and confusion about what happened to her, and merlin says it’s not arthur’s fault, that “there were others better placed to help morgana,” indicating his own guilty feelings.

and the other one was after mordred defected to morgana, where he has a whole conversation with her about how he thinks there is still GOOD in arthur!!!!  he’s uncertain about what he’s doing!  I JUST

i can’t believe

they had the seeds

of this better story

and they consciously decided not to pursue them.  it’s not like they didn’t have the idea.  it’s not like they just never thought of it.  they thought of it, filmed it, and deliberately removed it.  unfathomable.

it’s also pretty remarkable that the big baddie they’ve been touting for the last three seasons just pegs out from a stab wound in about 5 seconds as we’re being hustled on to something else.  there is no space devoted to morgana’s death scene (such as it was…).  it’s a parenthesis.  it feels like, ‘oh we gotta get this out of the way quick hurry up let’s move on.’  

and the thing is, i am not wholly opposed to the idea of morgana ultimately destroying herself - it’s not necessarily my first choice, but there are ways they could have gone that route and still told a meaningful story - but if they wanted to go that way, her death would have to matter.  it would have to be treated like the terrible failure it represents.  it would have to be given the weight of tragedy.

but structurally, the way this scene is set up, there is no way for this to happen.  the viewers are already hyper-strung out on tension, when she appears, because they’re suddenly starting to get this horrible realization that one of the show’s two central characters might actually be about to die, but nobody wants to stop clinging to hope despite their bad feelings so there’s just this desperate, screamingly loud ticking clock running in the background, and when morgana shows up in the middle of that clenching fear, there’s absolutely no way her death can receive the attention she deserves.  the audience doesn’t have room for something like that.  they don’t have room to feel anything on top of what they’re already feeling.  they’re already about to explode.  they’re already maxed out on investment.  they can’t focus on her; they want her to disappear because something more urgent is going on.

and so the show hustles us past her, and her death is just this blip.  it barely registers. if you sneezed, you would miss it.

(and then mordred, for his part, doesn’t even have the benefit of a structural problem to explain the anticlimax of his death.  he just gets taken out like the trash.  for a character that they just spent all this time developing and making sympathetic - boy.)

i think...the thing, ultimately, is this: if this show truly felt that what they had to do was take their previously hopeful premise and stun their audience with the death of the hero, then they should have understood that trying to stack other things on top of that is too much.  trying to squash morgana’s death right up against arthur’s is foolish.  it’s ridiculous to expect your audience to be able to process morgana’s death and arthur’s in-progress dying at the same time.  these two things happen within two minutes of each other.  the audience has been following these characters for five years.  it’s unreasonable to expect your audience to hold so much emotion at once.  

vii. you’ll just have to trust me

the last thing i want to say is a more general thing.  

the rest of this analysis focused on the ways in which the finale is poorly-crafted, rather than on my personal feelings about who they did dirty.  it’s not really about my own personal thoughts re: the merits of killing gwaine and morgana and mordred and arthur or stranding merlin across the centuries; it’s about if these things (and all the other things in these episodes) were done effectively, and the answer, sadly, is no.  the show could have killed all these people and still written something i would have respected (even though it would have been devastating), but that’s not what happened.

but here, at the end, i think i can make room for a little sentiment.  

so what i want to reflect on here is this: ultimately, i don’t end up rejecting stories just because they do things i don’t like.  the pre-finale episodes were filled with things i didn’t like.  i hated how merlin turned mordred and kara in instead of letting them run.  i hated how he let the execution proceed.  i hated how arthur refused to see the injustice of his own actions.  i hated how merlin was getting so wrapped up in ‘make sure arthur doesn’t die’ that everything else was fading away, that he was doing things he could never have done in good conscience before.  but i was still deeply wrapped up in these stories, because i believed they were plausible and true.  i accepted them.  it made sense to me, that these things would be happening, dark and unpleasant as they were.

i don’t start rejecting stories just because they go places i don’t want them to go.  i start rejecting stories when i feel they’ve betrayed my trust.  

writers and readers/viewers can only ever move together if they trust each other.  i allow stories to take me places i don’t want to go because i trust the authors to keep me safe while we travel.  i know that they may take me somewhere i don’t want to be, but i trust that they will never take me somewhere i don’t need to be.  i trust that they are taking me somewhere intentionally, with the story’s integrity in mind.  a creator i trust can take their story anywhere, because i know they will take care.  a creator i trust can end their story tragically, because they remember that i am experiencing it alongside them.  they don’t surprise-punt me off the edge of the cliff so i can crash, alone, into the painful conclusion.  they carry me the whole way, and by the time we get to the end of the line, we can both look back and see that the road that led us here was straight and true.  i don’t fault them for taking me here.  it was the right place to go.

the end of merlin didn’t feel like that to me.  putting aside the fact that it was all so contrived that it didn’t even feel real (illustrated clearly enough in the ten pages above) - the truth is that even if it had displayed the highest quality writing in the world, the way this show ended felt like the audience had been abandoned.  the bond of trust between the creator and the consumer was severed.  the show forgot to take care.

i’m a ‘galaxy far far away’ girl first and foremost, so i’ll borrow an excerpt from the world according to star wars in order to make my point:

kasdan: i think you should kill luke and have leia take over.

lucas: you don’t want to kill luke.

kasdan: okay, then kill yoda.

lucas: i don’t want to kill yoda.  you don’t have to kill people.  you’re a product of the 1980’s.  you don’t go around killing people.  it’s not nice.

kasdan: no, i’m not.  i’m trying to give the story some kind of edge to it…

lucas: by killing somebody, i think you alienate the audience. (x)

i think merlin forgot this.  

i’m not saying that merlin shouldn’t have killed anybody at the end of their show.  i’m not even saying that they shouldn’t have killed arthur.  i’m saying that they forgot to take care.

merlin bbc betrayed their audience.  you cannot take a show whose underlying theme has consistently been the promise of better things and then turn around and end it like that without taking special care of the people who are watching.  you cannot just take an audience who has spent five years listening to someone bright and full of unflinching hope say - without any indication that anyone should doubt the certainty of this statement - “one day things will be better” and expect them to walk into this kind of ending safely.   

by killing someone, i think you alienate the audience.  and this doesn’t mean that nobody can ever die.  but it does mean that if you’re going to kill someone, you have to understand that there is going to be an automatic pain reaction from your viewers/readers/etc, and if you want to maintain their trust, you have to take so much care.  you have to be sure that you know exactly what you’re doing.  you have to be sure that it’s the right thing.  the only thing.  you have to make sure that it doesn’t betray the fundamental promises you’ve made whilst crafting the rest of your story.

the end of merlin is truly stunning in a) its utter reversal/unfulfillment of every major promise that comprised its premise and b) the casualness with which it throws its characters away in the last episode.  it’s not just “killing someone.” it’s a slaughter.  we have to watch almost half the cast die onscreen, and then at the very end literally everybody is dead except merlin himself.

and this is merlin!  not game of thrones!  merlin is a “family show;” that’s what the writers/directors/producers keep calling it when you listen to the episode commentaries and they talk about how they can’t show certain things or make it too bloody.  they wanted to follow in the tradition of “big, kind of epic family-entertaining shows, that—across generations—work on lots of different levels.”  but i cannot imagine a young person who has watched this show for five years coming into the finale to see mordred and gwaine and morgana and arthur violently executed, and to see gwen in mourning, and merlin anguished and then more alone than he ever was even when he was hiding his secret, and then, whoop, there’s the credits, that’s all folks.  aren’t you glad you got on this ride? 

the show ends without fulfilling any of the promises it made repeatedly for years.  the liberation of magic, the uniting of albion, and, for merlin, especially, the long-predicted day when he would be known and recognized for who he was - all forgotten.  all abandoned.  the finale finishes without giving the audience any of the things that they have spent five years being told to expect.  the show rewards five years of emotional investment with death and desolation.  it breaks all of its promises. it doesn’t take care.

i was lucky enough to have been so disconnected by how shockingly bad these episodes were that i mostly sat there shock-laughing at them in disbelief, the first time i watched.  but going through them again to put this write-up together was just like - that’s when a deep sadness kicked in, for me.  not at the ending itself, exactly, because, as i’ve said before, it was so poorly put-together that i can’t even see it as real.  but just - at the idea that i still had to see it, period.  that i had to witness this thing that i loved so much descend into this misery, for all that i didn’t recognize it as something plausible or true.  that i still had to watch merlin drag arthur all over creation, still trying, still scrabbling for that sliver of hope, only to have arthur bite the dust like ten feet from their destination.  that all merlin ever wanted in his life was to be accepted and loved for who he is, and that he put all of this on hold so he could (supposedly) bring about a world where it would be possible, and then he never gets it.  that a life of hiding himself and believing that everybody around him hated who he was inside - that was as good as it was ever going to get, for him.  

the writers just - piled it on.  ‘you can watch mordred die, even though we just went to all this effort to make you root for him!  and now you can watch gwaine die (why????? we don’t know!!! it doesn’t change the story, but why don’t you watch it happen anyway!).  and now you can watch morgana die!  but don’t look too long, because arthur is dying!  and now you can see camelot cold and in mourning - but only for one second, because now you can see merlin, who we never showed meeting any of his friends ever again, wandering around as a solitary old man thousands of years after everybody else is dead and the universe we spent the last five seasons living in no longer exists!!!!!!’

unbelievable.  

it doesn’t upset me in the sense of “it’s so terrible that the story ended that way” because i know it didn’t, really.  it was contrived and false enough that i laughed through most of the episode.  i know it isn’t the way things would have gone, and i won’t have any trouble forgetting it; whereas if it had been well-done, i wouldn’t have been able to dismiss it so easily.  but i still had to watch it, regardless.  you’re forced to watch it, because you care, and the creators know you care enough not to look away, and they use that trust to keep you glued there while they gut-punch you over and over and over again and then peace out without concluding any of their plotlines, saying, “isn’t it clever???  we really fooled you, didn’t we?  technically, we fulfilled the prophecies - nobody ever said any of the characters would get to enjoy the new world they would build!  i bet you’re so surprised!”

it leaves you stunned.  

it’s so...mean.  

it’s so careless.

i don’t have any desire to subject myself to that a second time.  after i’m done with this post, i know i’m never going to watch those episodes again.  they weren’t good, first of all; and if you need more clarification on that, please see the first ten pages of this document.  but more importantly, i don’t feel the need to subject myself once again to the callous disregard for the trust i gave this show’s creators.  

if i’m supposed to trust a creator to carry me over rough terrain, i’m trusting them to carry me all the way to the end.  they can’t violently dump me to the ground two feet before the finish line, run me over with an ATV, and then expect me to willingly climb back into their arms.

viii: if you want something done right

in conclusion, i guess the one nice thing about this is that we can crawl the last two feet ourselves.  

for me, sadly, i think canon!merlin is always going to end at 5.11.  the last two episodes don’t feel believable to me.  i couldn’t watch them and be convinced that i was watching something plausible; i felt like i was watching two hours of scripted theater.  which is, of course, what we’re always doing - but if the story had been crafted appropriately, we shouldn’t have realized it.  we shouldn’t have been able to feel the writer’s hand reaching in and making improbable things happen.  we shouldn’t have been laughing in disbelief as supposedly “sad” things were happening in front of us, and we definitely shouldn’t have been almost falling off the couch because the last scene was so jarring we thought it was an advertisement. (the TRUCK, people.  blaring across the screen and bulldozering through medieval fantasy-adventure show merlin bbc.  nothing on earth or in high heaven could have prepared me for that moment.)

but the one good thing about a piece of media that ended so unsatisfactorily is that it lights a fire under people’s butts to go ahead and sort of...row the boat themselves.  i was afraid, before i watched this, that seeing it would make me never want to go back to merlin again.  i put off finishing season 5 for an entire year because i was in the middle of writing a fic and i thought that if the end of the show upset me, i would never want to write another word.  but now that i’m finished, i’m relieved to be able to say that the finale, while it will always be a bitterly disappointing sore spot, was also SO laughably bad that i don’t feel the slightest compunction about just...letting it lie unrecognized.  if it were well-crafted and i was just ignoring it because it made me sad, i’d feel guilty for being petty.  but it was Just Actually That Bad, so my conscience is clear.  

and so is the path to more fun things, i hope, because that is the point of fandom, in the end, to have fun with something you love in the company of other people who love it the same way.

i hope i haven’t written the last merlin thing i’ll ever write.  i hope there’s more inside me that i want to say.  i hope i haven’t come in too late to make connections.  i hope i’ll enjoy rewatching (most of) this show someday.  i couldn’t imagine that any of these things would be true, when i knew the end was going to be a let-down, but now that i’ve finished, i feel like there’s infinite room to play, and that, at least, makes me smile.

i’ve said before that this was a hell of a ride.  it ended in a trainwreck, sure, but i’m not sorry i got on.

#the once and future slowburn #merlin S5 #meta

[junkyardlynx]

As the wind stroked his boyish face, Gran found himself smiling softly. Not one of previously unrealized joy, nor the fragile countenance of someone on the edge of sorrow. No, it was a smile of resignation. Not over anything huge, really, but more a persistent fact of his strange life.

He would always be underestimated.

The breeze’s affection turned fickle and slipped away, leaving only stillness and birdsong to fill the tree he was perched in. The light armor he wore fit him well - a black ensemble, decorated with geometrical splashes of red and trimmed in gold. The plates were near-weightless, but they were tough enough to take all manner of punishment; the master artisan six islands back claimed the whole set was forged from adamantite. The matching gauntlets fit him like a second skin, responsive and pliable and even as he leaned forward on the spindly branch, the greaves gave not a creak or a groan.

By all accounts, the armor was fit for a majestic king, or perhaps a revered general. Not a boy who barely looked sixteen summers. So, who then? One would be forgiven if they mistook him for a prince, or perhaps an up-and-coming knight-commander. His features were handsome, if boyish, and people always told him that he had a “very dashing” air to him. As if that actually meant anything.

No, Gran was none of those things. By birth, he was a nobody from the edge of the known sky, left with his friend that was definitely not a lizard. By trade, he was a skyfarer captain. By destiny, one who shared his life with the Girl in Blue. And by effort? Well, that was the one he was most happy to share. Not that anyone ever believed him at first. 

By effort, he could be summed up in four words. 

Conqueror of the Eternals. 

A boy of sixteen, now going on twenty-two, was the one who bested all ten Eternals in single combat? Even to himself, it sounded like a nice story and nothing more. Even though he lived every moment of it. The more spectacular details, like the defeat of the Erste Empire and his rejection of the True King’s offer were public knowledge. Though, well, it was true that they tended to draw his likeness a bit taller, and his face a bit more rugged. Artists paint what they feel, even if they don’t know it, even if they try and hide it. The bias creeps in. Surely whoever performed these fantastic deeds couldn’t be a sixteen year old kid. It was probably a part of the tale added later to spice it up and make it marketable for local papers.

Well, they were sort of right. When he rejected the “True King” and his poisoned wish, Gran was just about to turn twenty-two. Four months later, he now found himself intervening in a messy war between two kingdoms with his friend and crewmate Altair.

Six years. Six years had passed. Six years that showed nowhere on his face, his countenance. Nowhere save his eyes. 

It started six years ago. He’d died protecting a terrified girl. A girl he didn’t even know. Even now, if Gran was left to his own devices, he could taste that choking pain -- not the way his lungs seared from the hydra’s flame, nor the gash in his side from the hydra’s claws. No, it was the pain of being powerless. The pain of not being able to reach his hand up to the sky and ask his father in hated grief if he was proud. Proud that unlike his old man, Gran didn’t abandon a child in their time of need.

So when that girl in blue did something impossible, he made two little promises inside of his weak heart. 

One, never let anyone hurt her again.

Two, never feel that way again. 

Six years and four months showed only in the tone of his muscles and the strength of his gait. The softness of his steps, the way he would round a corner like a prowling lion due to the endless combat he found himself engaged in. How long was it until he figured out the peculiarities of his resurrected body? His hair and nails grew, he still had to eat and sleep and still smelled awful when covered in silverslime after a successful hunt. Open wounds bled and illness forced him to bed. 

But he didn’t age. 

He probably realized it after teasing Rackam about his patchwork scruff one day. Rackam had lost his razor and was pilfering through the kitchen for a spare, muttering about the “damn gremlins” who “sneak aboard even though people are on watch duty.” 

The exchange wasn’t noteworthy, really. Rackam had laughed and jabbed his index finger into the captain’s cheek, wondering when his peach fuzz would finally pack its bags and leave for more hairy locales. 

Rackam’s voice echoed in his head. 

“C’mon cap, aren’t you eighteen now? You gotta have more than this in ya!” 

---

Weird how such a statement could open a can of worms. Last he checked, he wasn’t in the worm business, either. Well, unless Altair’s little solo mission for me involves worms somehow. 

Gran hadn’t honestly asked for details since Altair didn’t seem to think they were important. The gist of his part in the greater plan amounted to “stop the western advance.” Simple and concise, really. The field he was scouting below the tree was still and peaceful, seemingly unaware of both the passage of time and the rumblings of war. The breeze kicked up again, carving gentle waves through the grass, and memory pulled him back under.

---

After that, it was impossible for Gran not to notice everything strange thing going on with his body. Despite nearing the age of nineteen, not a single hair managed to grace his face. Meanwhile, he could still tan (and burn) under the blazing sun and if he chose, he could grow the hair on his head as long as he liked. As an experiment, he’d left one toenail to grow as long as it could, just to see what happened. Other than a supremely stubbed toe one early morning followed by a string of swears angry enough to make Eugen blush, nothing came of his experiment.

If was as if nobody has given his body the blueprints for life after sixteen, as if the existence of “Gran as a person” was tied to his current general appearance, as if something altogether removed from natural biology had decided that “this” was Gran. Whatever was supposed to come after simply...didn’t. Naturally, Gran lost his mind a bit. Only a bit, though. He had the good sense to seek out the  famous alchemist and self-proclaimed cutest girl in the world, Cagliostro. She’d joined the crew a while ago and had a keen intellect when it came to matters of the body and it’s intricate workings. After all, she’d made one for herself, probably countless times. Her verdict?

She was stumped. 

Apparently, senescence - the process of cells deteriorating after copying themselves over long amounts of time, leading to aging - had stopped in Gran. Sort of. The truth was much stranger. She’d been having him report to her little workshop on the Grancypher twice a week, taking blood and tissue samples much to his immediate and mildly painful dismay. This process continued on for three months before her exasperation and wonder lead her to discuss her findings with “cute, baffling little Gran.”

“Basically, captain! You’re aging just right for the first eight samples. The only way to tell is to be able to “find” the itty bitty little bit of info that goes missing from the blueprint of “you” every time your cells divide. I imagine the Astrals put it in as a sort of safety fe-errrrr, moving on! So! Being the inimitable genius I am, I noticed something about the ninth set of samples. They’re alllllmost the same as the first. Way too close. You don’t just get that bit back for no reason, and you really don’t get THAT much back for any reason.”

Gran nodded slowly, already onto what she was talking about. However, knowing that Cagilostro loved a.) having a captive audience and b.) herself, he let her continue.

“I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure, and positing a hypothesis that early on when I might have just mixed up the samples would be irresponsible. So I waited until that Saturday when I got to stab and slice you again, triple-checking that alllll the samples were out of my workshop. Same result! They looked just like the second sample, even fresh farm-to-table.”

She turned an adorably calculated and seemingly malicious smile to Gran as her explanation ended. Though it wasn’t exactly news, her words were still unnerving. After all, his cells were basically rolling back the clock of aging every four weeks. You know, normal things.

“You know how much I’d give to figure out your secret? Even ignoring the fact that it certainly has to do with whatever Lyria did to you three years ago, this is a discovery so amazing you’d think I’d invented it. Your body is pretty much just removed from time! It’s almost envious enough to make me cry. I can’t believe you, making a genius cry. It’s honestly ridiculous. You can obviously still put on muscle mass and your brain isn’t fried like one of those Golden Friday SHRIMP.”

For a bit there after that, Gran lost a...well, a bit more of his mind. If he had to be honest. Three days locked up in his room, not letting anyone in, not even Vyrn. He poured over alchemical texts, medical documents, arcane and state secrets, anything the Grandcypher had that might be pertinent. After three days of intense study, stopping only for the necessities of life, Gran came to an answer. Well, his answer. 

Did it matter?

Had his sword arm stayed the same over those three years? No. Was his cut not deadlier, his stab not sharper, his fist not faster? Had his body not taken on the tone and muscle of someone who fought primals -- and prevailed? The difference between the weak Gran of three years ago and the Gran of today was immeasurable. The young man who had once fallen to a single tortured hydra now found himself battling ancient primal beasts of war and guile on a monthly basis.

He may not ever have a thick Draph-sized mustache and his cheeks might permanently retain their tender charm no matter his age, but his body was fit to fight. To protect. To chase his absent father until the end of the sky. That’s what mattered. Though he was quite sure Cagilostro would tease him endlessly for his answer.

With newfound determination, Gran threw himself into what the rest of the crew considered hellish training simply because he knew he could endure it. It was a way to prove himself - even after death, even after abandonment, he was worth something. He had value and merit and talent, but also the drive and yearning to turn it into something. In the wake of this new regiment for himself and his little visit to a certain alchemist on board, rumors crept up. Slow and steady at first, they soon burned like wildfire through the decks of the Grandcypher, spreading out of context and control. He finally became privy to a good chunk of the downright goofy rumors via his afternoon footwork training on the vast open deck. 

His footwork training was simple. He would empty his mind and fill it with visions of attackers, then repel those attackers as they came at him from all sides and angles. Though it didn’t hold up to real battles, it offered a sort of vision training and group combat scenario that duels never quite could and best of all, it could be performed anywhere with ample space as the only thing required was himself.

Being simple in those relative terms, it provides opportunities for a capable multitasker to easvesdrop things they shouldn’t, like the hottest Grandcypher gossip. On one such afternoon, in the early days of summer, things came to a head as crewmates found themselves unable to contain the rumor mill around their captain any longer.

“I heard the captain’s immortal!” 

Not entirely inaccurate. His nonexistent blade swung a tight arc, lopping off the head of something never there. With his arm extended, he challenged the thin atmosphere between the islands. Nothing came.

“Yeah, I heard he was like a six thousand year old primal beast?” 

Missed the mark a bit there, he quipped internally. It seemed both directed at the conversation and himself as he danced between the attacks of no ones and nothings. His sweeping kick, though near-flawless in form, barely grazed the torso of his last imagined attacker in that scenario. With a click of his tongue, he noted to himself that an actual attacker couldn’t simply stop on a dime like the one he imagined did. Even in his mind, he was tough on himself, as no one else seemed to want the responsibility. With a little consternation, he ended up giving himself the point for his made up little game. The points didn’t matter, but they made him feel better.

“We have a few of those in the crew, so it makes sense.” 

It would, but that’s not the case. Gran’s feet shuffled to and fro, dancing softly across the wooden deck of the Grancypher. To the casual observer, it almost appeared as if he was simply rehearsing one of the dances Anthuria had choreographed with him. He ducked under an imaginary bullet, fist rising from below to smash the jaw of the illusory gunman.

The nothings and nobodies fell to his invisible sword strikes, his matchless kicks and punches, to the spells he snap-conjured between the thrust of a lance and the flight of an arrow. Finally, panting hard with exhilaration and the flow of combat, Gran slew the final “attacker” with a quick reversal and stab to the gut, ending the dream with its own weapon. Nothing and no one fell, other than comfortable silence, but he still felt a measure of success as he picked up the warmed vacuum flask that had his lunch in it.

“No, no, he’s only thirty-six and he’s the son of that one legendary adventurer. It’s his hero’s blood. I hear his dad bathed in the entrails of the primal beast he slew, though, so maybe that’s what caused it in the end?” Why would a hero be forced to stop aging before he could legally drink?  The snort of his barely contained laughter sent soup up his nose, straight from his vacuum flask. Hot soup. Hot, spicy soup. 

“That makes a lot of sense.” 

More than the six thousand year old primal beast bit, yes.

“He’s still our captain, so who cares? That’s good enough for me.” Oh. Ah. I...

That last overheard comment had humbled him, but the clear ring of all the affirmations that followed from crewmates in it’s wake shook him to his core. Somehow, he’d gained the loyalty and friendship of some of the most accepting people under the great blue sky. His training, already considered to be a form of self-punishment by the rest of the crew, grew in scope and desire. If there was a mountain in his way, he would cut it. If there was a river in his way, he would part it. If even the great ocean of stars spanned the distance, it would be crossed. 

For all the things he could still protect. 

For the dreams he had thought beyond him.

For the sake of surpassing the absent father that had abandoned him long ago, leaving only a note.

When still a boy in a backwater nothing, Gran wielded a simple short sword and fancied himself a sort of knight as he grew up. Wearing a slightly ragged blue tunic with a hood, a few pieces of spare platemail strapped to his right arm, and holding a sword containing more rust than blade. Training with Vyrn in the forest every day, the boy dreamed of something bigger.  A fighter, a protector, a guardian of what he loved and treasured, not a bandit that cut and run from his family. That’s what he wanted to be... That dream was, for lack of a better term, driven from his chest. By a hydra. Just so we’re clear. 

He abandoned defensive posture after that, seeking to end fights as quickly as possible. An axe found it’s way into his hands and for a time, he was satisfied by the devastation it wrought. Teenage postmortem angst seemed to be quelled by a felling cleave to an enemy’s collarbone, and chunky plate scraps held together with red leather and white fur served him well enough as protection from the elements and the enemies he faced. 

Nothing so simple satisfied for long, though. Gran took to himself in a sort of hermitage for a while, studying magic under the occasional tutelage of his talented crewmates. There was a certain ripple of insecurity in his scouting party’s mood when he’d shown up late one day, his usual armor stripped down to basic protection and his axe nowhere to be found. They tossed light jeers at his green cloak and the staff he carried, even as they set off for their destination - a bandit camp they had been hired to uproot. Peace talks were attempted by the bandit’s leader and an Erune comrade of Gran’s, one better suited for diplomacy than the boy-faced captain.

Things deteriorated quickly. Gran had quietly stepped forward once the leader made it clear he had no intention of retreating peacefully. With the green hood still covering half his disappointed face, Gran slashed the tip of the staff in a dismissive motion to the right, as if telling them their time here was over. Before they could protest or retaliate, wild magic burst into life around them, sealing off all escape and action. Concentric rings of frost and fire cradled in the stony embrace of the earth, carved into being with the fierce wind tore at everything inside the bandit’s camp. With the oxygen burnt out, the earth lashed and the encampment in shambles, the dazed and injured bandits were easy prisoners. 

No one jeered after that. 

As his prowess grew and the crew took on more work, that cloak had weathered with time. It faded to an almost dull grey, and with this Gran had added a black half-mask to the ensemble. Admittedly, it was mostly to hide his youthful features and force enemies to take him somewhat seriously for once, as the sting of his blessed curse grew more apparent as he approached his twentieth year.

For combat, a middle ground was found. He embraced not pure swordsmanship, nor did he place his trust only in magic. Instead, he channeled his power into debilitating his opponent’s often unworldly vigor and vitality, then coaxed those weaknesses open with his unmatched swordplay. Victory after victory piled up at the crew’s feet, and the legend of the “boy captain” grew.

It also provided the fodder for what Gran considered a highly embarrassing piece of “art.” Somebody had caught him resting his right hand on his jaw, leg crossed over the other almost lazily as he read a scrap of paper in his left. It was a failed betting ticket, so close to winning millions of rupees, save for the upset victory in the sixth match. An enterprising somebody, who’s name begins with L and ends with -unalu, had committed this terrible and dreadful sight to memory. She then committed that memory to paper with her talent. 

Only, well. 

She’d used her license of artistic interpretation to replace the slip of paper held in contempt with a comically oversized sword. Stabbed unceremoniously in the ground. The barstool? That was now a throne carved of stone. The title of the piece, an unknowing and fortunate soul might ask? 

“Chaos Ruler.” 

The print she made was reproduced and sold to more than a handful of people on and off the Grandcypher. Copies of it hung from stray support beams and walls on the ship, as if to lovingly taunt him and people switched their mode of address from “captain” to things like “my liege” or “ruler” or “chaos kid” for the better part of a month. Gran said nothing, choosing to keep what little of his dignity he felt he had left.

Nobody saw Gran wear that outfit again. 

In hindsight, he had to agree that the metal half-mask was a little much. But, ah, Ejaeli and Predator had convinced him it was cool. They made masks look cool, after all. The palpable disappointment from them almost made him walk back on that decision. Almost. 

From then on, he’d taken to wearing a simple outfit when on duty, reminiscent of his teenage years. Having turned twenty some time ago, he decided to make a simple blue hooded tunic the mainstay of his combat attire. On top went a basic but functional steel breastplate, covering his heart and ribs. His arms were covered in gauntlets of the same make, and steel greaves offered his feet and shins ample protection as they went on over a pair of loose beige pants. What it lacked in flair it made up for in comfort and capability. A sensible choice. It gave nothing about his combat style away either, other than the obvious caveat that he might engage in it at some point.

---

Funny to say teenage years, he supposed, looking down at the peaceful field. Fires were beginning to rise and march in the distance, headed this way. An army. For now, though, he had time, and the world seemed to move so perilously slow. Memory reeled him in once more, as if the grass and the trees of this island made him long for another time and another place.

---

Thinking seriously on it, the reason his legend had spread as that of the “boy captain” probably had to do with two things. One, the Grandcypher traveled an awful lot between three different skydoms, and two? The crew of the Grandcypher loved events. 

It probably had to do with a third thing, too. 

His crew really, really loved to tease him about his age. 

Every birthday, it’d be “Happy sixteenth, Cap!” They reused the same banner six times now, adding a tally mark just above “sixteenth” every single time. It was as endearing as it was maddening. Eugen and Rackam pulled the same thing at every new bar, ordering three beers and then pretending to flip out at Gran when he took his. It caused its fair share of problems for Gran, so sometimes Gran would flip the script before they got the chance and get angry at his “dad” and “brother” for getting drunk while “mom” was at home alone. 

Some of the Grandcypher ladies would tease him with lines about “when he was older” and what an “earnest young man he was” if they saw him during the more romantic holidays, much to his chagrin. He learned to reverse that too, going on the offensive by playing the straight man to their act. He paid them straightforward compliments with toothy grins and presented them with chocolates during White Day as a form of playful revenge. 

A few times every year, the crew would be called to an ancient island where a sort of...war game took place between skyfaring crews. An Astral experiment run amok meant that otherworldly and ferocious beasts overwhelmed the singular island now and then, and their presence courted the attention of primal beasts. As the people of the skydoms always sought to turn misery into growth, they established a way to turn it into a competition. Extremely rare treasure was brought in from all across the skyrealms and the monster problem on the island was handily taken care of in what they called Guild Wars. 

Ten times, the Grancypher emerged victorious. Each time, for his troubles, the Captain would receive an ancient weapon of unparalleled power, power that courted disaster - and inevitably the attention of those that would protect the sky from unparalleled threats. 

The Eternals.

Ten times over the years, Gran wore his convictions on his sleeve and fought the strongest people in the sky, all to prove that he would remain himself in the face of that dread power. In truth, Gran didn’t plan to use those relics of war. He simply reveled in the chance to face those brilliant, blazing souls in single combat. 

It was a way to prove himself. Both to those who he had grown to admire after hearing their legends, and to his eternally absent father. Surely, even his father would have to notice if he conquered the ten strongest people in the sky--

He didn’t, but it didn’t matter. 

In the end, the people he met and bonded with mattered.

After an incident involving the mafia bearing down on Stardust Town, the Eternals got together and presented Gran with a suit of armor and his own cloak, signifying his status as the eleventh Eternal, an irreplaceable part of their group. While Siete was still the de-facto leader and Uno was the first of the Eternals, Gran - given the new title of Jedenáct - was the end-all-be-all when it came to pure combat strength. As they had joined the Grancypher’s crew, they wanted him to join the crew of the Eternals and share in that camaraderie. 

He might have felt sixteen behind those misty eyes when they draped the white jacket over his shoulders and popped the celebratory drinks open, but he’d never admit it. Openly. Nio knew, because of course she did. His heart’s plaintive melody was clear to her ear from the moment they’d met. He’d been seeking a place to belong, a place that respected him since the day he understood that his father had abandoned him. Between the Grancypher and the Eternals, he’d finally felt like part of a family. 

A family more real than the blood that spawned and abandoned him, all the while burdening him with purpose. 

This is where I belong.

---

Of course, it was just after this heartfelt moment that Altair had been roped into this awful and brutal war. As a member of the Grancypher family, Altair’s problems were Gran’s problems. And now, that advancing army was coming into ambush distance. Concentrating his mana for a second, Gran summoned forth an ethereal bow, shaped like the one Song used but made of pure, blue light. Standing up on the branch of the tree, he took aim at the ground some twenty metres in front of the enemy general’s advance. Luhua was said to be a fearsome combatant, and Gran secretly hoped for a chance to resolve things with a non-fatal, honorable, one-on-one duel. The best kind of fight. 

Of course, he would always be underestimated. There was a chance that no such duel would be found, and it might turn into a bloody melee.

Either way?

Time to keep the sky’s sweet peace.

#granblue fantasy #gbf #gran #fanfiction #writing #my writing #self-indulgent bullshit

[kronk-is-launchpad]

Here in the Garden (Chap. 1)

Summary:  Della Duck didn't think of the possible consequences of leaving her unhatched eggs. Nor did she think of the pain she'd cause to her 3 yr old daughter. Donald takes the triplets in a fit of emotions, but doesn't think to take his only niece. After being forced to give up searching for Della, Scrooge now devotes all his time & affection to his youngest niece. Elliot has grown up unaware that she has brothers, and now that very fact is holding her up by the thread.

MASTERLIST

[DuckTales 2017]

[DuckTales OC insert]

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elliot was at a meeting with Scrooge & the 'penny pinchers', bored out of her mind. Though surprisingly, she'd rather be no where else. Scrooge is the only person she could trust, and she didn't plan on that changing anytime soon.

   On the limo ride back Scrooge was telling Elliot about how annoying Glomgold was, and she responded with the usual "hm" And "huh". As the gate pulled into view, she could see a station wagon. LaunchPad lurched to a stop, sending Scrooge & Elliot out their seats. Scrooge got up, mad as ever.

"Why aren't we movin?!" He shouted.

Scrooge immediately moves over LaunchPad to honk the horn and get out the limo.

"Ay!!" He yelled angrily, "Jettison that jallopy from my driveway this instance you deadbeat!!"

A familiar duck exits the station wagon and walks towards Scrooge. They meet halfway, glaring at each other with sheathed anger.

"Donald Duck." Scrooge seethed.

"Uncle Scrooge." Donald responded.

Elliot's eyes widen, and she slowly gets out the limo.

"Dona?" Elliot called out quietly, tears starting to fill her eyes.

"Ellie?" Donald whispered, taking a step towards her.

Scrooge cuts Donald off, glaring at him with the fierceness of a beast.

"JETTISON THAT JALOPY FROM MY DRIVEWAY THIS INSTANT YA DEADBEAT!!" Scrooge growled loudly, annunciating each word with a poke of his cane.

The two duck spiraled off into a pointless argument as Elliot shifts her attention to the 3 kids in the car who were filled with excitements. They were clearly triplets, with different color-coded outfits to distinguish one from the other. The one duckling wore a red polo shirt with a baseball cap to match. The duckling to the right wore a green hoodie, and to the left was a duckling in a light blue long-sleeve with a darker blue t-shirt over it.

'Dona had kids?' she wondered, 'did he really forget about me?'

She gets shaken out her thoughts by Scrooge's yelling.

"YOU'RRREEEE WELCOME!!" he taunted loudly, but then realizing what had happened, "wait what?"

Donald huddles the triplets out of the station wagon, and over to Scrooge.

"Huey, Dewy, Louie," he introduced, "meet Scrooge McDuck."

The ducklings looked like they were about to burst from the intensity.

"Remember," Donald warned, "no tricks, no lies, no trouble."

"Yes Uncle Donald," the ducklings responded in-sync.

"I wasn't talking to you," Donald corrected, his eyes narrowing at Scrooge, who returned the favor.

After Donald drove away the 4 ducks start heading back to the car, sending Elliot into panic.

'What do I do?!' She thought nervously, 'I don't know these kids?!'

Then the limo door opened.

"EEEEEEEEEEEE!" Huey squealed, "it's you!"

"It's me?" Elliot questioned nervously.

"THE Elliot McDuck is my Aunt!" He screamed, "this is the greatest day of my life!"

 Huey jumped up & down outside the limo,  giddy with glee. The other 2 looked at the teen with curiosity & amazement. Scrooge ushers the triplets into the limo, and Huey immediately start bombarding the young duck with questions.

"How do you create such innovative designs for your prosthetics? What 3D printer do you use for the models? Do you build them here or at the McDuck bin? How much work do you get done in a day?"

Before Elliot could answer, Scrooge was already blocking the red clad duckling.

"Leave the lass alone," Scrooge grumbled.

"No Coo, it's quite alright," Elliot interrupted, "curiosity brings discoveries.

I think of what people need in a prosthetic, and strive to make it happen. I don't 3D print as of now, but I do have a small lab in McDuck Manor for making models though the prototypes & final products are made in the McDuck laboratory. I can get a sketch & model in a 9-5 work day, but I do take days off to cool down. I hope I've answered all your questions."

Huey looked at the teen in awe, writing down everything she said. The limo lurched to a stop, causing the triplets to fall out of their seats. The partition rolled down to reveal LaunchPad.

"You're all home now Mr.McDee," he announced, "have a great day Elli!"

"Much appreciated LaunchPad," Elliot thanked as she exited the vehicle.

 She bolts to the door, Mrs. Beakly opening it automatically as she disappeared inside. Scrooge followed, walking normally. Once Scrooge made it through, the door is slammed shut on the triplets for a few seconds, before quickly being opened by Mrs. Beakly.

- - - - - -

'I didn't know Donald had kids,' Elliot thought as she made her way through the house, 'Did he really forget about me so easily?'

 She reached the garage, a wave of emotions fell over her. Seeing the souvenirs brought an old feeling of naivety, but it also brought tears to her eyes. Seeing all that happened while she was stuck to a garden with no social interactions outside of a butler. While lost in thought, she didn't notice 4 ducklings sneak in. As she ponders an old painting she hears a loud gong. She whips her head to see Webby being chased by a headless horse.

"*gasp* Ms. McDuck?" Webby blurted, "what are you doin in here?"

Before Elliot could counter there was another gong. The girls turn to see a ghost pirate chasing the triplets. Elliot runs past them, grabbing the kids and hiding.

"What are you 4 doing here?!" She shouted, "this isn't a playground!"

"We were bored!" Dewey responds frantically, "how was I supposed to know there were ghost pirates!?"

"And if we hear one more gong, an unspeakable evil will be set loose!" She screams.

"Not if I can help it!" Elliot growled, getting up.

She runs out, grabbing a sword and jumping on top of boxes.

"Hey Dorky Jones!" She shouted, catching the pirate's attention, "Where'd you get that hat? Party City?"

 The ghost let out a screech as it flew toward the teen at lightning speed. Elliot quickly dodges, flipping over the undead attacker and landing gracefully behind him. The pirate grabbed a glowing sword, ready to fight. Before either could charge a heavily accented voice rang out.

"What in Dismal Downs is going on here?!"

The 4 young ducks sheepishly turn to the elder one, as Elliot smiled nervously.

"Why good noon Coo!" Elliot greeted hurriedly, "What brings you here to garage?"

"Garage!?"

Before Scrooge could tear into the 5 ducks, another screech ripped itself free from the beak of Elli's opponent. Elliot quickly parries the glowing sword that was speeding towards her. She deflected it up, but the sword quickly turned itself around and was back to speeding at her face full-force.

"Aw phooey," she muttered tirelessly as she parried the endless attacks from the sword, getting pushed away from the group more and more.

"Could *pant* really use-woah! SOME HELP!" The teen shouted as the swipes got faster.

"The sword won't stop till it hits its target!" Webby shouted from the side lines as Scrooge is facing the ghost pirate and its new partner, the headless man horse.

'What do I do? What do I do?' Elliot thought frantically as she was growing tired from the persistent saber.

She could feel a lightbulb go off in her head.

'Ah-hA, That's it!'

After a final deflect she drops her sword, her stare calculated and confident as the sword was speeding back at her.

"Ms. McDuck what are you doing?!" Huey screeched out in terror as he covers his younger brothers eyes.

"Trust me!" The teen called out, her gaze still on the sword.

Just as the blade was about to impale her she quickly side stepped, ripping her sleeve and drawing a small amount of blood. The sword stopped glowing, dropping immediately. Elliot returns to the others to find the headless horse and ghost pirate gone.

"Now what are you all doing in the ga-rage?!" The Scotsman shouted, slamming his cane to the ground.

"So it IS a garage!" Huey exclaimed.

"B-but what about all this treasure?" Webby asked desperately, "The garden hose of destiny, Montezuma's stack of old magazines?"

It takes the energetic duck a moment to realize her words, and she slumped her shoulders in defeat.

"Unbelievable..." Scrooge growled, "I invite you into my home-"

"You locked us in a room!" Louie countered angrily.

"You did whAt?" Elliot cried out in disbelief.

" I gave them marbles!" Scrooge shouted back."

"All we wanted to do was spend time with you." Huey explained.

"Well now you have," Scrooge grumbled, "and look at the mess it's got me."

"I guess family's nothing but trouble," Dewey muttered aloud, "right Scrooge?"

Elliot watched as Scrooge's face contorted into an anger she never saw often. She took a step towards her angered parental.

"Everybody out." He growled.

"Coo let's just calm down for a min-"

"OUT!" He screeched, hitting the gong with his cane.

Everyone gawked at the action, some covering their beaks in shock.

"Oh what are you gaping at?"Scrooge asked, "the curse is only activated if you ring the gong three times, and-and you already hit it two times didn't you?"

Then the statue started to crack.

The stone crumbled away to reveal a slithery golden dragon. It broke through the roof, letting out a mighty roar.

"Pixiu, the Gold-Hunting Dragon," Webby muttered out.

"Gold hunting? Sounds great!" Louie commented.

"Not when you're Duckburg's single largest owner of gold!" Huey exclaimed.

"Aah! Me money bin!" Scrooge screeched in horror as he grabbed the dragon's tail, "Elliot! Take them inside!"

Elliot watched in awe as her legal guardian gets yanked into the sky. After minutes of shock pass, Webby starts to walk out of the garage with a mission.

"Where are you going?" Dewey called out.

"I'm gonna go eat a hamburger." Webby stated confidently.

"We're in!" Shouted the triplet

"Anything for Coo." Elliot said, joining the quartet.

"Cool!" Webby squealed, "and to be clear, I'm gonna go catch the dragon. The hamburger was a metaphor from before."

"Yeah, yeah, no, we get it. We get it." Dewy responded, "But how are we gonna get up there?"

Launchpad pops in out of nowhere, scaring the living daylights out the teen.

"I'm a pilot," He informed, an excited smile on his face.

"Well what are we wait for? To the Sunchaser!" Elliot shouted as they all ran to the large plane.

They quickly board the aircraft, Elliot buckling up the kids. She barely sits down when launchpad lurched the Sunchaser into the sky. Elliot struggles to look over her shoulder.

"You guys doing alright?" She calls out.

She here's a shaky chorus of "yeah!"s, along with one "We're gonna die!".

"Yeah they're fine," Elliot muttered reassuringly to herself.

Once the plane steadied enough Elliot hopped out of her seat and over to the kids, unbuckling them.

"Ok listen up team," Elliot commanded, "we need to form a chain to grab Scrooge. I'll be second in line while three of you support me. Who's grabbing him?"

"Step aside comrades," Dewey instructed, stepping out from the group, "I was born for this."

They all get in a line, linking arms with each other. The plane is becoming more unstable as they approach the flailing Scotsman.

"Launchpad now!" Elliot ordered, tightening her grip on Dewey's hand.

Launchpad opens the hatch, the air almost vacuuming Dewey out if not the duck-made chain. Dewey reaches out just as Scrooge looses grip on the golden dragon, grabbing the old duck's arm.

"Now heave!" the teen shouted over the thrashing winds.

The 5 ducks pull with all their might, dragging the Scotsman into the plane.

"I thought I told you to go to your-" Scrooge was cut off by Dewey.

"No time. We gotta work fast." He turns to the pink duck, "Webby, how do we stop it?

"It's mystical, so we need a mystical device," Webby stated, "like an oblivion mirror, or a medusa gauntlet, or-"

"Like this?" Louie suggested, pulling the gauntlet out of his pocket.

Everyone stares at the youngest duck, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"What? I was gonna give it back," He assured horribly, "Now, how do we get him down there?"

"Garden hose of destiny!" Huey chanted, pulling the makeshift rope out of thin air, "Launchpad, we need to swing him out. Nosedive towards the bin and get ready to pull up!"

"Yes, sir, random kid I just met!" Launchpad responded enthusiastically as the kids tied Scrooge to the makeshift rope.

"Any questions?" Dewey asked.

"Since when is Launchpad a pilot?" Scrooge questions as the hatch opens up again.

Elliot puts her hand on the Scotsman's should.

"Have a nice trip Coo," she said jokingly before pushing him out of the plane, "see you next fall!"

Launchpad nosedives towards the money bin, pulling up at the last moment and swinging Scrooge towards the mythical beast. Scrooge grips onto the tail with his gauntlet clad hand, reveling in his victory.

"You guys, our family is awesome!" Dewey cheered as they all held on to the garden hose of destiny.

The golden dragon upon realizing its predicament, started to thrash about, catapulting Scrooge high into the air. The ducks (minus Elliot) watched in horror as the Scotsman was free falling in the air.

"Ah for old times sake," Elliot mumbled before leaping out of the plane in a swan dive.

She caught up with Scrooge, who she gave a mischievous smirk to.

"See you in the gold," she shouted smugly, "old man!"

She accelerates past an offended Scrooge and dives gracefully into the money bin, the latter following suit. She comes up up for air, laying back onto the cold hard cash as faint cheering can be heard in the background. The cheering doesn't last for long as she then hears a loud crash. She lurches out of the bin along with Scrooge to help the kids.

—————————

"In the short time I've known you," Scrooge stared angrily, "you've wrecked my home and my money bin, unleashed several ancient evils, and almost got me killed, twice!"

"Four times if you count...each..monster...as an...individual..time," Huey corrects nervously.

Scrooge stomps in front of the 4 kids, Elliot gasping lightly as he does. Then in a turn of events he let's out a boisterous laugh.

"That was incredible! When you pulled me into the airplane and said 'No time!' And who would have thought of a Medusa Gauntlet?! Brilliant! Oh, and then you swung me out and pulled up just in time and..." Scrooge gets up, "You kids are nothing but trouble! Curse me kilts, have I missed trouble! I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on you to teach you how to get into trouble properly."

Scrooge pulls out his golden flip phone as the kids look excitedly at him.

"You mean?" Dewey questioned hopefully.

"Beakley! Clear my schedule!" Scrooge commanded into the flip phone, "I'm taking the wee ones on a field trip."

He hangs up the phone, turning to the other ducks.

"Now," He says devilishly, "let's go find the lost city of Atlantis!"

The Ducks cheered out a great big yeah.

"And no one tell your uncle Donald!" Scrooge adds.

The Ducks cheer even louder.

"Wait who is that?" Launchpad asks.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 fanfic #ducktales 2017 #dt fanfic #DT #dt17 fanfic #dt17 oc #dt oc #ducktales fanfic #Here in the Garden Fic

[sweetness47]

Rescue

Pairing: Alpha!Demon!Dean x reader (Non Con), Alpha!Sam x reader

@spndarkbingo – Demon Dean

@spnabobingo – Touch Starvation

@heavenandhellbingo – The First Blade

@spndeanbingo – A/B/O

@samwinchesterbingo – fuck or die

Word count: 1368

Warnings: MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY…smut, knotting, claiming, non con, unprotected sex, rape, blood play, abandonment, violent themes THERE ARE TRIGGER WARNINGS HERE!!!!!!

She had been hunting with the Winchesters for a couple of years when Dean took on the first blade. She watched it change him. He became distant, dark, and it frightened her. A LOT! Numerous times he was found attempting to take her against her will, and if not for the timely interventions of Sam or Cas, he would have succeeded. She took strong suppressants as well, and that helped secure her safety for the time being, well that and the fact that neither Sam nor Cas would leave her by herself anymore.

She was almost grateful when Dean buggered off with Crowley to explore his newfound darkness. The bunker went back to being their home instead of a prison. YN had more time to herself, the two ‘bodyguards’ having eased off their protection detail. They thought she was safe now that the threat was gone. Research was almost nonstop, there had to be a way to free Dean from the mark, but as of that moment, none had been found.

The nightmare began about two months after Dean had left. Everyone had gone to sleep, well except Cas, but in the morning, YN was gone. There were signs of a struggle in her room, ripped fabric, blood, but no sign of her. Cas tried searching for her, but came up empty every time.

YN squinted at the bright light as she struggled to focus. What the fuck had happened? Her head felt like a basketball and…oh god! Her face went ashen as she recalled the events before she’d lost consciousness. Dean had broken into her room and tried to grab her. She’d fought back, but he overpowered her and smashed her head against the wall a few times. And now she was here, wherever here was.

A cool breeze sent a new realization of terror through her: she was naked, and worse…tied to the bed. He planned to rape her.

He actually planned for much more than just raping YN. Dean had developed feelings for her before the first blade took over, and now he could have her, however and whenever he wanted.

Her eyes widened as he entered the room, torso bare, jeans hanging just right on those perfect hips. His grin was as wicked as his gaze, she shivered as his eyes raked over her naked form, nausea rising as she struggled to break free. She knew the bonds were too tight to break free from, but she had to try. If the circumstances were different, if Dean wasn’t under the dark influences of the Mark of Cain, she would gladly become his. But not like this.

“Relax sweetheart. I’m not gonna kill you. But I am going to have you lots, knot you over and over, claim you, and fill that belly with pups. You’re going to be mine!”

Her fear increased tenfold as he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. YN tried to move away as he reached his hand out to touch her soft skin, but it was no use. He grabbed one of her breasts, roughly kneading the sensitive flesh, twisting and pinching the nipples. Then his fingers ventured lower, running through her folds, finding evidence of arousal, even as she fought against it.

YN whimpered as he slipped a finger inside her slick, then a second. He began fucking into her hard, adding a third digit, wet sloppy sounds filling the room as he assaulted her. She tried to ignore him, tried to fight the coil in her abdomen, but failed. Her orgasm slammed into her hard, coating Dean’s fingers with her slick.

Then he took out the blade, and her terror was renewed. The tip scraped lightly along her breasts and her sternum before cutting a thin line down the middle, not deep, but enough to bleed. Tears ran down her face as pain flooded her system. Then he made another slice across one thigh, then the other.

She yelled and cursed his name, then, in her anger, she spit in his face.

Wrong move.

His eyes darkened, and she was the recipient of a backhand across the face. “Bitch!” he snarled.

Too late, YN realized her error. He rid himself of his jeans and boxers, then climbed on her, forcing her legs apart. Brutally, her thrust into her slick coated entrance, ripping through her innocence, bruising her tender flesh. He pounded hard, bending his head to lick red droplets from her chest. He growled low as he climaxed, knotting YN, then sinking his teeth into her scent gland, claiming her.

He lay there lapping at the wound, running his tongue over the cuts he’d made, while his seed spilled inside her. YN felt ill. Her body hurt, and now she quite possibly carried this man…no, monster’s, pups. Tears ran down her cheeks, unable to hide her fear.

Dean got up and put his pants back on. He took a glance back at his captive. “Thanks for the ride sweetheart. I’ll be back later for another round.” And he left her tied down, not bothering to clean up any of the blood or semen from her trembling form.

True to his word, Dean came to her three more times, each more violent and harsh than the last. His pleasure seemed heightened as he bit her, hit her, licked the blood from the cuts he inflicted upon her already battered body. His sexual assaults were brutal to say the least, unyielding and primal, without a care for her own well being.

He brought food to her, but she refused to eat. If this was to be her destiny, she didn’t want any part of it. She wished death would claim her, it would be better than this hell. Anything would be better than this.

Day three, Dean sent a lackey to clean her up as she had also refused to let him do that too. He wasn’t allowed to fuck her, but that didn’t stop him from forcing her to give him a blow job. He finished cleaning her, and was rewarded with death for disobeying the Demon’s one rule. Dean knew what had happened, and made sure his other followers knew the consequences should any of them think of trying something similar.

He took to washing her himself, despite the hatred she openly displayed for him. He force-fed her as well, making sure she swallowed the food, and didn’t vomit it afterwards. She managed to fool him occasionally, but for two weeks straight, he persisted. She needed to be healthy to carry a strong healthy litter of pups for him. Her health, or lack there of, didn’t stop him from raping her multiple times a day, cutting her, blood play, torturing her daily. Dean’s rut had long since ended, but she was his, and he thoroughly enjoyed playing with his toy.

After the third week, Dean decided to road trip with Crowley again. He placed guards he trusted to watch her and feed her, but not touch her in any sexual way. YN was stiff and sore, but she also began feeling the effects of his abandonment. And worse still, she realized she was indeed carrying pups, just as he wanted. For as much as she hated what this demon had done to her, she craved an Alpha’s touch now, and the craving was getting worse. She couldn’t keep food down, Dean’s scent was fading away, and she couldn’t shake the loneliness that plagued her. She hated him for what he’d done, but her body missed his touch.

One week after Dean left, Cas and Sam found YN and rescued her. Both men were horrified at the bruises and scars that covered her body. She was pale and severely malnourished. Sam was furious with Dean, he wanted to rip his brother to shreds. It was Cas who stopped him from doing so, telling him to focus on helping his friend instead. Sam agreed, only because he could see that YN needed him.

Cas healed the scars and the malnourishment, and told Sam of the pups, two of them. Sam asked if the pups were normal or if they were demon, not that it would change Sam’s decision to help his friend, but he needed to know. Cas confirmed that they were normal, and then told Sam about the severity of her abandonment sickness.

Sam went to YN’s room, smiling as he watched her nesting. He could tell she was still not well, she looked lost, and his heart broke. YN looked up at the younger Winchester and began crying. Sam crossed the room in seconds and gathered her into his arms, letting her sob into his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair in an effort to calm her.

“Cas told me about the touch starvation sickness YN. What do you want me to do? You’re carrying Dean’s pups as well. If the sickness gets worse, it could be harmful to them, and to you. You’re my best friend, and I love you like a sister, although I have to confess to being attracted to you. I did think about us as a couple on occasion.” He brought her face up to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to see you suffer, but I won’t force you into anything you don’t want.”

She bit her lip as she studied her friend. “Are you offering to claim me over your brother’s mark? Do you think that would help?”

Sam nodded. “Cas seems to think it would. YN, I want to help you, and if that means claiming you, then that’s what I’ll do. You and the pups are the most important thing in the world to me. I’ll love them as if they were my own. Do you want me as your Alpha?”

YN nodded, reaching up to brush her lips against his. Sam responded, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. YN moaned, leaning into his strong embrace as his hands undid the waistband of her jeans. She reciprocated, her hands eager to free his throbbing erection from the confines of his own pants. Need consumed both Alpha and Omega as Sam reached between them, finding her wet, but also needing the last bit of affirmation that this was what she wanted. She nodded.

He thrust inside, the slick coating his shaft as he did. YN arched up to meet his entrance, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Then he moved, and she met him pound for pound. His release came swiftly, and in one fluid motion he sank his fangs into her shoulder, overriding his brother’s, claiming her as his. The fever and pain subsided almost immediately as the pressure of the knot met her nerves and senses.

Once the knot shrank, he rolled over to the side and pulled her close, both spent and needing rest. She moved her head to look up at her Alpha.

“Sam?”

“Mhmm?”

“Thank you.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He kissed her forehead. “I love you too, Omega.”

@legion1993 @akshi8278 @alwaysdreamingforthebest

#spnabobingo #spndeanbingo #spndarkbingo #heavenandhellbingo #samwinchesterbinngo

[fleurdehivers]

who’s the true protagonist of trc?

okay, this is inspired by an old deleted post by, and a later conversation with @lynchlesbian about the “adam parrish and his band of merry men” line by the gray man, and us wondering what the fandom consensus is on who the real protagonist of the series is and why. i think mstief did a decent job of putting alll of them on the same level narratively speaking, or at least giving them the same amount of space, so a case could probably be made for all four characters and no option would be wrong a priori. 

i’ll put the rest under the cut, because this is going to be a little long.

i still wanted to try and break this down with a more thorough analysis. so, i think we should start by the definition of what a protagonist is: the term comes from ancient greek drama and literally means “first actor”, in the sense that the protagonist was literally the character that made the first appearance on the stage and was the focal point of the story. i consulted a number of websites and they all seem to agree on the fact that for most of history and in most cases a protagonist is also the hero, simply defined as the character we hope to see “win”, and the main character of the story. but sometimes the three do not coincide, and there begin the problems, because if they’re not one and the same we need to define separately what a protagonist and a main character are. and academia apparently hasn’t got a single and unanimous outlook on the matter, which makes things a little confusing. 

the main character is easier to classify:

it is either the character from whose perspective the story is written (sometimes this is also called the “point-of-view” character – in this instance gansey, blue, adam and ronan are all unequivocally main characters)

or simply the character with the most screen time (again, all four are main characters)

but, as defined in this article, usually a main character is also a character who experiences inner conflicts, and how said character resolves those conflicts often determines how the external conflict is resolved; to avoid confusion, i will call this case that of a “central character”

the protagonist is where things get muddier:

it is the person who opposes the antagonist (this is easy, they’re all protagonists again, save for tdt maybe, where ronan is the protagonist and the other are all co-protagonists)

it is, mainly, the character who is the primary pursuer of the story goal, which affects or involves most of the characters and its the source of external conflict; often the protagonist tries to persuade the other character to follow them in pursuing the goal

it can be the person who drives the plot, the one who makes decisions, who makes things happen and creates action; one writer suggested here that greg, the father of the family, is the protagonist of little miss sunshine because he drives the story forward by driving the car. i don’t necessarily agree with this interpretation, it feels somewhat simplistic, but there you go

it’s also a character that undergoes change, emotional, intellectual and/or spiritual growth, and travels from a point a to a point b, either literally or figuratively; at the end of the story they’re often wiser, more nuanced, better or just changed people 

now that we have our definitions, we can start applying them to the characters. 

let’s start by the most obvious one, i.e. gansey. if you want my straightforward opinion, gansey is the protagonist of the story; it’s not the answer my heart wants to give, but it’s the one that makes most sense to me. all characters are involved in the main plot, but gansey is the one clear pursuer of the story goal and the focal point of the story. whilst reading, the questions we’re supposed to ask ourselves are, will he find his dead welsh king? will he survive? why was he brought back to life the first time anyway? and, of course, he is the unspoken leader of the gangsey. and when someone challenges that leadership, he acts hurt and offended, like for the most part of tdt where he shuts adam out and feels betrayed by him. actually, in his words, the betrayal feels worse than if it had come from ronan, because evidently gansey wasn’t expecting adam of all people to discuss his central role in their quest. but. BUT. as per our precedent definitions, the protagonist is supposed to change and grow as the story progresses and this doesn’t seem to be gansey’s case. in fact, one could almost say that his main character flaw is his inability to change. he starts at one point in the story and he finishes in the exact same spot. the narrative denies him the possibility to become a better person and rectify his mistakes. and he’s also not always, perhaps not for the most part, the person driving the plot forward, making decisions and creating action. 

in fact, that role could be fulfilled by adam or ronan. adam is the first character to create action, because a) he’s the one asking blue out and therefore making their fates intertwine, and b) he’s the one who convinces gansey to go to the psychics about glendower. he also jumpstarts the narrative by waking the ley line, thus setting the magic element in motion. he makes a bargain with cabeswater and becomes the link between the boys and the forest; he painfully learns how to communicate with this sentient entity and he reshapes his future by choosing another tarot card at the table; he becomes the magician, he comes up with the plan to blackmail greenmantle, he finds out how to wake the animals in the valley of skeletons, which later allows blue fo find her mother; he learns to scry to help ronan with his dreams; he’s the one suggesting to ask cabeswater to sacrifice itself for gansey and he’s pivotal in the process or reviving him teaching cabeswater about humanity. person driving the plot? check. he also undergoes a lot of personal change. he frees himself from his abusive household environment, he cuts ties with his family and goes on to live alone and support himself financially; he grows so much as a person, learning to count more on his friends, to let go of his pride, to control his anger, even when he has every right to be angry, and to not vent it out on others, to let himself feel things. so, character who undergoes personal growth? check. but he admittedly isn’t the focus of the overall story, the role is still gansey’s.

a similar argument could be made for ronan. he is the dreamer, he manifests cabeswater, he’s a main driving force of the entire story. as with adam, he changes a lot from the beginning to the end of the books: he starts out by being this ever-angry boy, all sharpness and edges because he’s grieving and traumatised but slowly begins to heal, to find some kind of closure with his father; to free himself from his self-hatred, to accept himself the way he his; he learns to control his dreams and to free himself from kavinsky’s toxic influence; he becomes a better friend to blue and lets himself love his crush, he loses his mother in a horrifying way but he’s there again for his friend shortly after; he becomes a parental figure for opal. so we find ourselves again in front of a character who carries the story forward and has a notable self-growth throughout it. at this point, one could be tempted to say he’s the true protagonist because there’s a novel in the series entirely devoted to him, but it’s exactly his role in tdt that makes me reject this idea. he’s a fundamental part of a piece of the story, a link between the beginning and the later portions of it, the effective protagonist of tdt; but tdt feels too much like a kind of stand-alone book inside the series, and yet again, the rest of the story doesn’t revolve around ronan, though he is, as much as adam, an impossibly central character in a book with four main characters.

blue is, instead, clearly the decoy protagonist: the premise and the first chapters of the series make it look like she’ll be the only main character and the hero of her own story, but going forward she kind of fades into the background, to tumble out of it in bllb, to go back there in trk. she has too few relevant moments by herself, and most of them are concentrated in the first half of trb and the ending chapters of bllb, to be considered a fitting candidate for protagonist role. and as with gansey, she just doesn’t grow that much as the story goes on. which, if you ask me, is a pity because not only she was a very interesting character, she also was the only female character in the main ensemble cast. but, alas, we had to see her fulfill her destiny and kill and one true love with a kiss. me was hoping for a plot twist at the end, but of course that wasn’t my destiny as a reader.

so, to sum things up, this is how i view things: gansey is the de facto protagonist of the story, because he’s the clear focal point of it. but remember point three in the main character definitions? i’d say adam and ronan are the most central characters in the novels, those whose internal conflicts determine how the external conflicts are resolved. and they’re both gansey’s contenders as protagonists. although, i also think that ronan feels comfortable in a defiled position and is quite happy to follow gansey in most occasions, whereas adam openly challenges gansey’s leadership and decisions, and makes his own accordingly. so i get where mr. gray takes his idea of “adam and his band of merry men” and it makes perfect sense to me that he would think that way for what had been his involvement in the story. and i have to say, my heart thoroughly agrees with mr. gray. just this once.

#cissy talks #trc #trc meta #trc analysis #adam parrish #ronan lynch #richard gansey #blue sargent #let me know what you guys think abt all this #tbh im still a little unsure #but i also took into consideration what mstief said abt writing ronans story first #and then thinking it couldnt work on his own #and in the end ganseys story takes up a big chunk of the plot #and everything seems to always gravitate around him #and what he wants #this make it seem like i dont like gansey lmao #i do! #but i feel like he ended up being an underdeveloped ch #same as blue #while adam and ronans arcs are so much better written #but theyre not always central to the plot #or whatever #im beginning to ramble

[cardansolo]

My Favorite Reylo Fanfics

We all need something to hold us over until December, right? Here are all of my absolute favorite Reylo fics. They’re all amazing - well-written, mostly slow-burn (because I’m a sucker for those), and all T, M, or E rated. I’ll be updating this list as I find more that I love. Happy reading!

*Fic is incomplete.

In the Star Wars universe:

In My Blood Stream by EllieCarina (x)

Rey knows Kylo by now. And she knows Ben and almost everything in between. But when Poe Dameron kisses her, she learns something she hadn't known before. They are bound by the Force and this alone would be difficult enough - with love of all things added to the mix, the universe could as well come apart under the weight of their minds.

(Formerly “I Know,” now a multi-chapter fic.)

Landscape With a Blur of Conquerors by diasterisms (x)

"While I share your contempt for this situation in which we find ourselves, do not mistake it as apathy," he hissed through gritted teeth, dark eyes burning. "I hardly expect your disposition to sweeten, but I will be damned if I allow my future Empress to behave in a manner that reflects poorly on me and on the First Order!"

"If you allow?" She wrenched her arm out of his viselike grasp, batting his hand away for good measure. "I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone."

"That might have been the case back when you were a scavenger on that pitiful scrap heap of a planet, but now?" His sardonic gaze flickered over her silk robes and the jewels woven through her elaborate braids. "Now you are the Chume'da, and the Chume'da belongs to her people. Their fate is entirely in your hands. Should you cross the line, it is they who will suffer for it. Am I making myself clear?"

"I hate you," she said bitterly.

He sneered at her. "See? Already you are acclimatizing so well to married life.”

Tactical Surrender by destinies (x)

“It was foolish of you to come here,” he says. “You won’t escape this time.”

Rey looks at him, at the Stormtroopers, at the combat walkers. She gives the illusion of thinking it over, and then says, “You’re right."

She presents her wrists to him. “I surrender myself to the authority of the First Order.”

--

Three years after the Battle of Crait, Rey, Resistance hero and teacher to a budding new Jedi Order, once again delivers herself into the hands of the enemy. To provide cover for a maneuver that could deal a serious blow to the First Order, she must gamble with the thing she knows its Supreme Leader wants most: herself.

In The Gathering Dark by grecianviolets (x)

Post-TLJ. In the aftermath, from the chaos and the carnage, rises a new vision for the galaxy.

You’ll Be the One to Turn by postedbygaslight (x)

Several months have passed since the Battle of Crait, and Rey of Jakku and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren have continued to haunt each other, appearing at random to each other throughout their days and nights. But the connection is unstable, and longing and loneliness start to overwhelm other concerns.

Jedi Academy AU:

Like Young Gods by diasterisms (x)

“What do you think?” Luke asks his nephew. “She has potential.”

“She bit me, Master,” is Ben’s stiff response. “Any opinion I give would be biased.”

Or: Everyone is connected, even if, sometimes, it's just by the skin of our teeth. Even in the midst of darkness, still, luminous beings are we.

To Kingdom Come by diasterisms (x)

[Sequel to Like Young Gods]

"I remember everything!" he snarls, loud enough to make her flinch. "How you move— the way you breathe—" His words hitch on a strangled half-sob; he stares at her like a man caught in a waking dream as he skims the line of her jaw with his knuckles, stopping to touch the pad of his thumb to her bottom lip. "How your eyes met mine in the starlight," he continues through a broken, haunted rasp of a voice, "and I felt like the look on your face."

Or: What is alive must heal. What cannot heal must endure.

*In My Ten Years by brittlelimbs (x)

There's a piece of Jedi mythology, passed down from ancient times, that tells of a peculiarly nasty phenomenon: one singular, intact soul split in two by the Force. It's a story of a schism in the stars, a constellation cracked in half, a lifetime spent scouring the Universe in search of that elusive whole.

But the Force is cruel and kind in turns; it gave Ben only one piece of his soul, but left the other, swaddled, at his feet.

AKA [the author’s] take on the "Ben and Rey grow up together!" trope with a soulmate/soulbond twist. Pretty much pure teeth-rotting fluff, lots of Ben being a lil mother hen etc. before they grow into a romantic relationship. Luke POV.

Modern AU:

A Proposal By Any Other Name by Lucidlucy (x)

Rey and Finn have been A Thing for a long time now. Since she was eighteen, to be exact. When Finn leaves on a trip to Europe for six months for work, Rey finally chases after him to Dublin to do what he seems to be putting off: propose.

She wants a family, after all.

The universe has different ideas. Her flights are delayed, storms hit, she loses her tickets and everything seems to be going horribly. To top it off, she ends up stranded around a rather irritating man by the name of Kylo Ren. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

-----

A Leap Year AU.

Unexpected by pontmercy44 (x)

What to expect when you're expecting the child of an rich, womanizing, alcoholic, unredeemable asshole? And what to do when the unexpected, improbable, irrational happens?

Play to Win by Enterprisingly (x)

Ben Solo – aka KyloRen – is a professional gamer, playing the first-person-shooter StarKiller for the internationally ranked eSports team, The First Order. He’s made a name for himself as a ruthless competitor with a ferocious temper and top-notch skills that can’t be beat. That is, until a mystery player named ReyOfLight begins thoroughly trouncing him whenever they cross paths.

What follows is the unlikely story of a rivalry that turns into a friendship that turns into… something else entirely. All while the eSports community watches with bated breath and popcorn in hand.

Ghostwalks (Gin and Fog) by diasterisms (x)

[Actors AU]

"I don't like your manners," she sniffed.

"And I'm not crazy about yours," he retorted.

(So they were apparently Bogie and Bacall now, and maybe she could blame the alcohol in the morning, like all the good girls did.)

A Royal Mistake by reyofdarkness (mitslits) (x)

Ben Solo (aka The Playboy Prince): Prince of Alderaan and tabloid sensation, never seen with the same girl twice.

Rey: Mechanic, blissfully unaware of Ben Solo's very existence.

Until Paige recruits her for a night servicing the Met Gala, host to a diverse class of guests, including royalty. It is there that a chance encounter gets Rey caught up in a pair of pretty eyes and a charming personality that she knows she should stay far, far away from. The universe, however, seems to have other plans.

Doing the Unstuck by slipgoingunder (x)

A rom com inspired by When Harry Met Sally. (No, you do not need to have seen the movie to read this.) Modernized, gender swapped, angsty and funny.

Rey is Harry. Ben is Sally.

--

In 2010, Rey and Ben share a contentious car ride from Chicago to New York, during which they argue about everything. Including sex.

Four years and another chance meeting later, both their lives have taken unexpected twists. And they're still arguing about sex.

In 2018, Rey and Ben meet for a third time, each at a crossroads in their lives. They continue to argue, but in a nice way. So nice, in fact, that they become good friends. Complicated friends. Complicated friends who definitely do not want to have sex.

Olive and an Arrow by sadboykylo (x)

Rey might be in love with Ben Solo. If only he wasn't her cautious bodyguard, and she wasn't the president's daughter.

A/B/O:

Suits and Stilettos by Aimz777 (x)

Ben Solo, protégé to James Snoke at the prestigious Kenobi-Snoke-Organa law firm, is tasked with employing a male Alpha Associate from one of the Trinity law schools. Why then, he hires Rey Jensen – a female Omega from Jakku Law with a photographic memory and a stubborn streak to rival any Alpha – is anyone’s guess.

Luckily no one knows she's an Omega except him.

Unfortunately for Ben, her intoxicating scent is messing with his head and he is increasingly growing to resent the fact that he isn’t like every other person on the planet that simply can’t smell her.

–The A/B/O modern day lawyers fic kind of (but not really) based off the show Suits

Your Pretty Little Heart by Ever-so-reylo (x)

“Good. Good little Omega.” He says the words against her gland, almost sweetly, and Rey—Rey is going to die. A wonderful, delicious death. Depraved, all of this. Filthy. Beautiful.

Modern day AU in which Ben is an Alpha, Rey is an Omega, and they are way better at having sex than at communicating with each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fic rec #reylo fanfic rec #reylo fanfiction #reylo fic #these are all very good #they made me emotional #yes diasterisms is on here four times because her work is literally so good #mostly made for myself so i can keep track of all of the wonderful fics i read

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

so, I saw many people who think that the ending in Billie's book is suicide? But I kinda felt like, there was no ending. The only other option is for Dean to not die, to keep Michael locked up forever. What do you think is the ending?

Eh, the billion dollar question. Which, thanks for sending because I’ve just been so overwhelmed with feels that I have simply given up on making something coherent out of it.

Let me make a little detour first and say how the show is making explicit some things that we were saying but have been made textual now - cosmic consequences doesn’t mean something neat and clearly visible as the direct consequence of a particular action. It’s a ripple effect, a butterfly effect. Playing with the castle of cards that the universe is... you end up rewriting fate. That’s what Billie keeps saying. To the people who accuse the show of belittling Billie because she warns the Winchesters that Terrible Things(TM) are coming if they do certain things, but then they do the things and Terrible Things(TM) don’t happen - this is the answer. There are no “obvious” Terrible Things(TM) coming, it’s the fabric of fate being changed in ways that Billie can see, but that the other characters - and us - can’t unless Billie tells them (and us).

In an episode where Michael discusses about God being a writer, of course (in a classic Dabb era move, I mean) eventually we come to see where the story is really being written. Just like Anubis said that God doesn’t decide whether a person goes to hell or heaven, but the person themselves decides with their actions -- so the story of the world is not being written by God. There was a script, but it was revealed that following it was a choice (that Team Free Will rejected). There are, obviously, guidelines. But it’s fundamentally choices made by people that write the story. Billie had already shown us that there are many, many possible ways a person’s story can go, and now we learn explicitly that a person’s entire array of fate possibilities can be even rewritten, if that person messes up with the order of the cosmos enough.

Michael, the dark Dean double, says that God can be killed, and that he’ll destroy his “draft worlds” because he can. This is basically the dark equivalent of what Dean does - Dean, who metaphorically destroys God’s scripts, who metaphorically “kill gods”. Dean “Free Will” Winchester can destroy the stories who have been written so far, he can kill God, he can shape his own destiny and the destiny of the cosmos. Of course, right now things are probably going to take a difficult turn because this is Supernatural, but the point is that Dean does what Michael claims for himself - he “destroys worlds-stories” and “kills God” in this sense.

Now, I don’t know what the book Billie shows Dean says, and I’m not particularly interested in making speculations about it because we just don’t know, but what really interests me is Billie’s behavior in this episode.

She breaks the rules. She intervenes, she sends Sam, Cas, Jack and the Michael+Dean package to the bunker so Cas and Sam can enter Dean’s mind, return Dean to the control room of his body, and stuff Michael away for the time being. 

Sam said that one of your reapers really came through with the assist. I’m thinking that was probably you.Don’t tell anyone.You broke the rules.I took a calculated risk.

She is interested in the world not being destroyed, and she is making an investment in Dean in the perspective of Dean possibly choosing that one path that doesn’t end with Michael destroying the world. Of course, she is not going to force Dean to choose, she is not going to arrange things in a way that Dean cannot but go in that direction. She is leaving him the fundamental choice. That’s up to you. But breaking the hands-off rule, letting Dean read out of a book from her office - that’s a big move. I’m supposing that Death revealing about the books back about Sam and Rowena wasn’t exactly orthodox already, but now she has handed a book to Dean, which I’m sure is just as unorthodox and the various other adventures Dean has had with Death.

*sound of the millions of Death Dean/Reaper Dean meta-spec written along the course of the show crying of emotion in the distance*

(Consider also Michael basically saying he plans to kill God - the original Death said he was going to reap God, and Michael is a mirror for Dean in this narrative; and now Billie basically puts Dean in a narrative position where he’s framed as Death, because reading those books, holding those books, is what Death does: Dean is consistently shown across the show as on equal footing with reapers and Death, and literally (s6) or metaphorically in their shoes.)

Billie is taking a big “calculated risk” in putting this much... responsibility? trust? in Dean, and I might add that she’s acknowledging Dean not really as an equal - obviously they’re not the same thing - but on an equal footing of sorts when it comes to this situation.

But no, I really don’t know what the book might say.

What are the alternatives to Michael running loose? Either keeping him locked up forever (a), or destroying him (b).

The former is... impossible, or just not really worth investing on. Even if Dean arranged some kind of send-me-to-outer-space-to-be-a-lock-forever situation - oh, wait, that has never worked. The Cage God built is not a very solid solution - Lucifer got out twice, Michael is still there but another Michael showed up, so, really, the purpose of it is basically bypassed. Basically, you lock one Michael up, another one takes his place on the cosmic chessboard, you know? I feel confident in saying locking up Michael doesn’t work.

In fact, locking up your problems doesn’t work. It’s not a coincidence that in this episode Michael mentions God: locking up things is God’s specialty. And it doesn’t work. The Cage is like Swiss cheese. Amara, the ultimate problem he locked up to get rid of, also escaped and almost killed God if it weren’t for Dean’s intervention. In this episode, there are several attempts to lock things up that don’t work in a way or another: in the hotel, they need to be teleported away because the door wasn’t going to hold; the shapeshifter pretending to be a hunter doesn’t lock the bunker... rule of three, the third locking up, Michael’s, succeeds for the time being, but we can’t expect it to last forever.

Unless Dean manages to find a way to mute Michael, to lock him up to well he doesn’t make any noise, literally and figuratively. But... well, no. For the simple extradiegetic reason that we can’t have Dean get to the end the show with Michael just locked inside and that’s it. In-story, it just doesn’t seem like a sustainable solution. And knowing that Dean has a neutralized archangel inside of him in a fridge? Not exactly the prettiest scenario.

Also, it’s probably early to really make statements about this, but all of this Michael, Michael vs God, Dean vs Michael situation is all a mirror for Dean’s dynamic with John, and we know something huge regarding Dean and John is coming, so... whatever the solution to the Michael problem is going to be, it’s going to be a mirror to whatever the resolution of Dean’s John-related trauma is going to be like. Stuffing the problem inside of you forever is not a solution to trauma, and it can’t be a solution to Michael.

And now we get to (b). And we have two possibilities: Dean manages to find a way to destroy Michael that allows him to live, or Dean destroys himself and Michael. But what does it mean to destroy an angel...? Well, we know what happens to dead angels. Is whatever the book says related to the Empty and the Shadow that rules it? That’s a possibility, and also a way the Michael/Dean storyline could merge with the Empty/Cas storyline, but I’m putting the carriage before the horses.

I really don’t like using the CW promo for the next episode to speculate on, because CW promos are notoriously not a reliable tool for speculation, and the Onwards trailer doesn’t seem to give anything away in this regard, so I’m not going to speculate on what Dean “acting strange” might be specifically an indicator of. (He’s planning to die soon? He’s attempting some kind of strategy like when he was trying to control the Mark of Cain? We just don’t know yet.)

This post has gotten long enough, so I’m ending it on with a note on Jensen’s acting. First of all: give this man all the prizes. He’s superb in every episode, but this episode allowed him to showcase his talents beautifully, both as Michael and as Dean.

In the final scene, Jensen initially plays Dean as half-heartedly trying to put on a façade of confidence in front of Billie - I think he’s purposely played it as Dean not really trying, because he does know there’s no point to it (I think he’s doing it more for himself than for Billie, if you get what I mean). The subtle horror when Billie says that ‘all the books’ end with Michael getting control, the wariness when she mentions an exception, the frown when he basically asks her silently if he can/should open it, the shock/surprise -- I think then Dean’s expression reveals a sort of mixture of disorientation and understanding at the same time. He understands what what is written means - Billie doesn’t feel the need to explain more, after all - and that understanding leaves him lost and vulnerable. That’s eventually what Jensen plays - that almost childlike quality what Jensen gives Dean when he’s unguarded in his helplessness. It’s the way Jensen played Dean overwhelmed by the horror of losing his own sense of identity when he lost his memory under the witch’s spell...

Interestingly, he gives a quick glance to the book and he looks up at Billie wide-eyed and slack-mouthed, asking what he’s supposed to do with that knowledge - a sign that he’s understood the gist of what’s in the book - then he reads more and he seems to find some additional detail that further gets him shaken.

But then again, we just don’t know what’s in that book, so we just have to wait and see.

In the meanwhile I’m expecting the fandom to provide crack suggestions :3

#my spn thoughts #spn meta #spn spec #spn 14x10 #dean and billie #dean and death #spn #anon

[thedistantstorm]

Day 18: “Secrets? I love secrets!”

Fandom: Destiny

Pairing: Zavala/Female Guardian

Warnings: mild sexual content, alcohol use, one unhappy, over-bribed Lilith

-/

Miyu belches by way of greeting, Shaxx whacks her on the back with a thick hand, and they both laugh heartily. "Sid'down, Lillie," She gestures to the empty seat beside her with a slosh of her mug. "Nightss only getting started."

Lilith-2 almost wonders for a moment if she's going to blow a bulb in her optics. This is not the strict, gentle teacher she trains with nearly every morning. This warlock is flushed with a pretty blush, doe-eyed and flailing wildly for Lilith to join her.

Miyu is plastered.

This is going to be so much fun, Lilith thinks.

(And it is, until it really, really isn't.)

-/

 "When I was her age-"

"No," Miyu looks like she's slapped Shaxx, but it's very unlikely he's even felt it. Or, if he did, he likely enjoyed it. Lilith can't tell. "Don' finish that. You're a bad influence."

"Bad influence?!" Shaxx bellows in Miyu's face. "I'm a bad influence? You've drank half the bloody bar dry and I'm the bad influence?"

"You're not recounting the Dark Ages to my protege," Miyu snips back, lips plump and pouting in full force.

"Just because you were lost for half of it-"

"Ignore him," Miyu says, slinging an arm around Lilith's shoulders. "Do you need another drink?"

"Still good," She chirps, having never fully recovered from her first social outing. She'd meant to meet Bertie here for dinner and a drink, but he'd gotten caught up on patrol with a new Titan. Was just as well. This was fantastic entertainment, and she wasn't very hungry, anyway.

"You don't need to hold back on my account," Lilith watches Miyu swing her feet - the stool is too high for them to touch the ground - and hum idly. She waves down the bartender for another drink and elbows Shaxx when he focuses too hard on a Crucible replay, mouthing his own commentary.

"Please. At this stage," Shaxx covers both of Miyu's ears with his monstrous hands, but she's too concerned with the frothing ale placed before her to stop with the giddy smile, "She doesn't have a filter." He removes his hands. Miyu is still happily glugging her drink, "Zavala has another thing coming if he thinks I'm taking her home."

"Z'vala?!" she turns and looks over her shoulder, lip curling outward. "Aww, I thou' he wuss here," She slurs. "Damn." She very earnestly informs them both, "I love him. He's incredible," And then sighs like a teenager with a crush.

"You're a terror. He puts up with so much."

"He does not!" Miyu glowers at Shaxx and he cackles. She rounds on Lilith, who covers her mouth with both hands. "Don't you dare," She pokes Lilith in the chest, "Yer s'posed t'be on my side!"

That does make Lilith laugh, and she accepts a high five from Shaxx for it that night have shattered her hand. Nizana, her Ghost, runs an internal scan. Seems he's shorted out her neural sensors on impact, but everything is fine.

"He doesn't mind. I'm a cute drunk," She insists, hiccoughing once, with a petite shudder. "Makes me seem younger."

"You are too much," Shaxx agrees, clinking his mug to hers. "I'll drink to that."

"How good're you at keeping secrets?" She nudges Lilith, some time later.

"Secrets? I love secrets." Lilith makes an x over her chest plates, where a heart would be.

"Zavala. I'm like, phoo," She leans back, swaying as if her mind is blown by the idea. "I'm centuries older than him and he has no idea."

Lilith tilts her head. "Really?"

"Uh huh. He's so sweet, calling himself 'Old Man' like he's not a baby himself. This oaf, too." Miyu elbows him as punctuation for her words. "He's alright once y'get pass' the yell-y parts."

"Quit elbowing me, woman!"

-/

The next day, Lilith wakes up to find out her morning training session is cancelled. No surprise there. She dresses, gets ready, and heads into the Tower, ready to throw herself into something that will make up for the lack of structured activity this morning.

Shaxx is irritated - she understands it as hungover - and louder than usual. Arcite is humming the song they'd been singing when Zavala arrived after his shift to take Miyu home. Talk about irony, Lilith thinks.

She doesn't want to poke the metaphorical bear, so she trudges quietly over to Zavala's post.

He does not turn from his viewpoint over the City but acknowledges her approach. "Guardian."

Lilith's reply is equally as neutral. "Commander." She waits for a beat and when he does not reply she asks, "Do you have any ops or patrols I could do? My morning appointment was… uh, cancelled."

"Ah," He muses, a hint of amusement hinted in his voice. "My breakfast plans were… dashed, as well," He shares with something like amused exasperation. "I could find something for you, if you'd like. Any preference on location?"

She shrugs. "Didn't know you have people a choice," She concedes.

"I do not, usually. However," Zavala regards her with that serious blue stare, "I require information and am willing to barter for it."

"Commander?"

"Miyu said she told you a secret, last night. She would not divulge the nature of it, but challenged me to figure it out on my own."

Lilith gulps. She should have risked going into the Crucible. Hungover Shaxx seems a hell of a lot safer than an inquisitive Zavala.

The man in question lifts his chin, his eyebrows doing this strange lift and drop whilst he tucks his hands behind his back. Without a hint of foreboding - somehow, that makes Lilith even more frightened - he apprises her.

"And you are going to tell me."

-/

Four patrols in the EDZ later, he comes across the comms for her specifically.

“Nizana, don’t answer that.”

“I know. I pinged back our coordinates and said we were in the middle of a firefight.”

Lilith creates a grenade in the palm of her hands, solar energy blazing across her gloves. She throws it into a nearby cave, and picks off the Cabal that come rocketing out of it.

-/

“Sir, I can’t tell you. Miyu swore me to secrecy.”

He paces before her, but it’s not anxious to anyone but the Exo left to watch him contemplate in motion.

“Is it related to her Light?”

“No.”

“The Dreaming City?”

“No.”

“Drinking?”

“No.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“Maybe she’s embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Zavala inquires so innocently that Lilith almost answers.

“Oh-noooo. Commander, come onnn,” She whines. “This is mean. Miyu is my teacher.”

“And I am your Commander.”

Lilith, having nothing left to lose, flips a switch. “How does that work, anyway? If she’s seeing you and you live together, isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“Alright,” He hedges, unsettled. “Dismissed.”

The Exo doesn’t waste her time, escaping while she has the chance. “Oh, thank the Traveler.”

-/

Miyu guides her through the first four stances of a new set - Lilith had been begging to expand her repertoire - and watches as she flounders the fifth. Her teacher’s diamond eyes follow her line of sight up to a watching Zavala, who is studying Lilith intently. 

“Leave her alone,” Miyu calls up to him. “This is my time and you’re making her uncomfortable.”

“You could tell me yourself.”

“Not in this life or the next, Anata. Now shoo,”  She waves him off with a suggestive smile, threatening, “Or I’ll tell her another secret about something you really won’t want me sharing.”

Zavala leaves immediately.

“I don’t actually know what I told you,” Miyu admits softly, apologetic. “I was really drunk. Hopefully it was something juicy.”

“You don’t remember?!” Lilith screeches. “You are the worst drunk in the history of drinking!”

“Says the Exo who crashed on her Commander’s couch the first time she touched a pint of ale.”

“Ooooh, you’re mean. I should tell him for that.”

“You really, really shouldn’t,” Miyu says, and produces a new sword. “Give it a spin. If you like it, you can keep it.”

Lilith doesn’t look convinced. “You’re bribing me?”

Miyu shrugs, saying softly, “He’s withholding sex. I need leverage.”

“I did not need to know that.” She blinks back at Miyu. "If you don't remember, why-"

"Pride. And also he's so cute when he's focused. And his jaw does the thing."

"The thing?"

"The thing," Miyu confirms. Lilith doesn't get it. "Ugh, nevermind." 

-/

At the end of her wits, Lilith throws open the door to Zavala’s office, letting it bounce off the wall. She throws him a scathing glance at having been summoned for the twenty-seventh time this week. “Shaxx also knows. Miyu gave me a sword and I’d like to keep it. Go ask him.”

Zavala considers. “He won’t tell me, I’ve already asked.”

“What does she have on him?” Lilith flaps her arms, exasperated.

“Apparently they go way back,” Zavala says, with a roll of his eyes.

Lilith freezes.

“That’s a clue,” Zavala reasons, immediately. His eyes widen, then narrow intently.

Lilith smirks. “You got it from Shaxx, not me.”

The Commander nods. “Indeed.”

-/

“The next time someone tells me a secret,” Lilith tells Bertie, laying in a field of redgrass near a Vexmilk stream on Nessus, “I’m going to tell the first person I see. I’m done with this. She throws her new sword into the stream and doesn’t look back.

Nizana scoffs. “Good riddance.”

-/

“Ikora, how does one escape a difficult situation?”

“By making a choice.” She narrows her golden irises on Lilith. “Is this about the secret?”

“You know about it, too?”

Ikora harrumphs. “I know everything that happens in this Tower.”

“So you know that Miyu gave me a sword-”

Nod.

“Because Zavala is-”

“Unfortunately so.”

“Would you please just tell him? He won’t leave me alone.”

The Warlock Vanguard sighs. “I did tell him.” She crosses her arms. “Several times, in fact. He does not believe me.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I am not.” Ikora smiles.

Everyone wants to see Lilith suffer, it seems.

-/

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Guardian?” Kadi looks at Lilith with a blink, the postmaster terribly confused. “But-”

“I’m sorry,” Lilith shakes her head. “Throw it all away.”

The post frame takes a moment to process, then tries again. “For Guardian Lilith, from Commander Zavala. Very nice man.”

“You’ve never been on the receiving end of him when you’ve got classified information. Return to sender, Kadi. Please.”

“But Guardian, it’s busy.”

“I’m sorry, but this is just out of control. You can give that gun to the next warlock you see, okay?"

-/

Half a week later Lilith slams the door shut behind her, causing a rather comical reaction. Miyu is paused, drink - it better not be alcohol, Lilith thinks - just shy of her lips, and Zavala's eyes narrow in thinly veiled irritation.

"You interrupted my dinner, so I'm interrupting yours."

"I have to be in Command in half an hour for a strike operation. I do not have time for-"

Lilith smacks her fist on the table, leaning forward, bellowing at him, "You interrupted my dinner, called for me sixty two times-"

"Seventy one," Lilith's Ghost interjects.

"And you've been making me out to be the biggest jerk to the postmaster. No more gifts. No more favors, no more secrets." She looks to Miyu. "Ikora said she'll teach me to be a Voidwalker, and Shaxx said he'll teach me swordplay. I'm this close-" Lilith holds up two pinched fingers to use as a meter, looking between them, "To taking them up on it!"

"Easy, Lillie."

Lilith snarls, waving her hands. "Oh no. You don't even remember it! I can't believe you!"

Zavala stares at Miyu in shock. Miyu flushes. "What?" He snaps.

Miyu flushes and shrugs. “I had a lot to drink?” She reminds them, sheepishly.

Lilith makes a flapping, exasperated gesture, and finally caves. "Look. She's older than you. By a lot. Apparently she feels younger when she drinks away her brain cells, and thinks you're cute thinking you're all old because she's like twice your age."

Miyu tilts her head. She and Zavala share a glance before he speaks. "This is a blatant fallacy, Lilith. She's pulling your le-"

One eyebrow goes up in a bold impersonation of the Commander's signature eyebrow raise.

"No," He says, scandalized.

"Yes," Miyu confirms. 

“That’s impossible.”

"Not at all,” Miyu shrugs. “Lilith?"

The younger Warlock takes a heaving, exhausted, aggravated breath. "Yeah?"

"I'll take it from here. Training in the morning. Don't be late."

"Don't go out drinking," She throws back, petulant. Miyu doesn't spare her a glance. They both know the other will be there.

"Go collect all that stuff from your postmaster. It you don't want those robes, I'll take them back. He tried bribing me with them first and they’re really nice." She winks.

Zavala glowers at Miyu, but he doesn’t deny it.

"For Light's sake," The Exo grumbles, rolling her optics so hard she fears they might pop out from the strain. "I'm keeping them now, for sure."

#Destiny Fanfiction #Fictober 2019 #Commander Zavala #Zavala x OC #oc: Miyu #oc: Lilith #miyu the sweet bean warlock

[readingontheedge]

Dawnflight

The Dragon's Dove Chronicles Book 1

by Kim Iverson Headlee

Genre: Historical Fantasy

 Print Length: 415 pages

Publisher: Lucky Bat Books

Publication Date: February 25, 2013

 What if King Arthur’s queen was every bit as heroic as he was? Find out by immersing yourself in this epic story of the power couple whose courage and conviction would shape the destiny of a nation. Gyan is a Caledonian chieftainess by birth, a warrior and leader of warriors by training, and she is betrothed to Urien, a son of her clan’s deadliest enemy, by right of Arthur the Pendragon’s conquest of her people. For the sake of peace, Gyan is willing to sacrifice everything...perhaps even her very life, if her foreboding about Urien proves true. Roman by his father, Brytoni by his mother, and denied hereditary rulership of his mother's clan because of his mixed blood, Arthur has followed his father's path to become Dux Britanniarum, the Pendragon: supreme commander of the northern Brytoni army. The Caledonians, Scots, Saxons, and Angles keep him too busy to dwell upon his loneliness...most of the time. When Gyan and Arthur meet, each recognize within the other their soul’s mate. The treaty has preserved Gyan’s ancient right to marry any man, providing he is a Brytoni nobleman—but Arthur does not qualify. And the ambitious Urien, Arthur’s greatest political rival, shall not be so easily denied. If Gyan and Arthur cannot prevent Urien from plunging the Caledonians and Brytons back into war, their love will be doomed to remain unfulfilled forever. But there is an even greater threat looming. The Laird of the Scots wants their land and will kill all who stand in his way. Gyan, Arthur, and Urien must unite to defeat this merciless enemy who threatens everyone they hold dear. 

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Arthur said, “I advise caution.”

“Caution, indeed.” Urien’s look adopted a hard edge as he ground fist to palm. “I don’t trust these Picts. In fact, I don’t understand why you didn’t obliterate them with Caledfwlch when I”—he stabbed a thumb at his chest—“gave you the chance.”

With effort, Arthur resisted the impulse to touch his sword’s ruby-pommeled hilt, the smith’s inspiration for naming it Caleberyllus, Latin for “Burning Jewel.” After Abar-Gleann, Cai had coined a Brytoni name for Wyllan’s finest creation: Caledfwlch, “Caledonia’s Bane.” It was perfectly apt, and it had almost caused a diplomatic disaster.

He spared a glance for his friends and was thankful they were too far away—and too engrossed with flirting with two more serving women—to have overheard the exchange. Two months was enough time to heal flesh wounds but not enough time to salve Cai’s pride for having to endure Arthur’s public rebuke in order to preserve the fragile peace. He returned his attention to Urien. “Do not forget that your charge was carried out under my orders.”

Urien glared but let the remark pass. “The Picts have been a menace to our borders for time out of mind. Why didn’t you—”

“The same can be said about the Saxons, Angles, and Scots.” These last two Arthur spat like the curses they were to him. The Angli had killed his father. And the Scots… he banished a grisly memory with a long blink. “None of them have demonstrated a willingness to negotiate with us for peace. The Caledonians were willing, and Brydein will be getting a much stronger cavalry as a result.” Arthur grinned. “You should thank them for your promotion.”   

Video Trailer: https://youtu.be/mHOESkv-R_c

The Dragon's Dove Chronicles Book 2

 Print Length: 439 pages

Publisher: Lucky Bat Books 

Publication Date: June 11, 2013

 “Magnificent.” ~ Kathleen Foley, author of the Faith in Uniform series In a violent age when enemies besiege Brydein and alliances shift as swiftly as the wind, stand two remarkable leaders: the Caledonian warrior-queen Gyanhumara and her consort, Arthur the Pendragon. Their fiery love is tempered only by their conviction to forge unity between their disparate peoples. Arthur and Gyan must create an impenetrable front to protect Brydein and Caledonia from land-lusting Saxons and the marauding Angli raiders who may be massing forces in the east, near Arthur’s sister and those he has sworn to protect. But their biggest threat is an enemy within: Urien, Arthur’s rival and the man Gyan was treaty-bound to marry until she broke that promise for Arthur’s love. When Urien becomes chieftain of his clan, his increase in wealth and power is matched only by the magnitude of his hatred of Arthur and Gyan—and his threat to their infant son. Morning’s Journey, sequel to the critically acclaimed Dawnflight, propels the reader from the heights of triumph to the depths of despair, through the struggles of some of the most fascinating characters in all of Arthurian literature. Those struggles are exacerbated by the characters’ own flawed choices. Gyan and Arthur must learn that while extending forgiveness to others may be difficult, forgiveness of self is the most excruciating—yet ultimately the most healing—step of the entire journey. 

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THE CLASH OF arms resounds in the torchlit corridor. Blood oozes where leather has yielded to the bite of steel, yet both sweating, panting warriors refuse to relent.

Her heart thundering, Gyan grips her sword’s hilt, desperate to help the man she loves. Caledonach law forbids it.

Urien makes a low lunge. As Arthur tries to whirl clear, the blade tears a gash in his shield-side thigh. The injured leg collapses, and Arthur drops to one knee. Crowing triumphantly, Urien raises his sword for the deathblow.

Devil take the law!

Gyan springs to block the stroke. Its force jars her arms and twists the hilt in her grasp. She barely holds on through the searing pain.

Urien slips past her guard to slice at her brooch. The gold dragon clatters to the floor. Her cloak slithers to her ankles, fouling her stance. As she tries to kick free, Urien grabs her braid, jerks up her head, and kisses her, hard. Shock loosens her grip. Her sword falls. She thrashes and writhes, but he holds her fast, smirking lewdly.

“You are mine, Pictish whore.”

Urien’s breath reeks of ale and evil promises. She spits in his face. He slaps her. She reels backward, her cheek burning. He grabs her forearms and yanks her close.

“Artyr, help me!”

No response. 

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Video Trailer:

https://youtu.be/Bk0uPDfq7TY 

The Dragon's Dove Chronicles Book 3

 Print Length: 415 pages

Publisher: Pendragon Cove Press

Publication Date: March 11, 2019

 Outcast, clanless, and but a junior officer in Arthur the Pendragon’s army, Angusel struggles to rebuild the life stolen from him through betrayal by the person he had held most dear. His legion allegiance thrusts him onto the campaign trail as one of Arthur’s forward scouts, stalking Angli troops and being among the first to clash with these vicious enemies at every turn. But the odds loom high against him and his sword-brothers, and they will need a miracle just to survive. Pressured to make the best choice to ensure her clan’s future leadership, Eileann struggles with her feelings for Angusel, whose outcast status makes him forbidden to her as a mate. When Angli treachery threatens everyone she loves, she vows to thwart their violent plan to conquer her clan. But she is no warrior, she has no soldiers to command, and she will need a miracle just to survive. How can one soldier make a difference? How can one woman save her kin and clan? In the crucible of combat, Angusel must surrender to the will of the gods, and Eileann must invoke divine power to forge the most dangerous warrior the world has ever known. 

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“Where is the brush?” Eileann asked, as much to forestall the inevitable as to seek an answer.

A heartbeat later, she chided her fear. Outcast or not, Clan Tarsuinn needed him.

Them.

“No brush. The anointing is as much about the connection between the anointer and the anointed as it is about the connection between the anointed and the gods. Use your finger, like this.”

Neoinean dipped Eileann’s index finger into the dye, tapped the excess on the rim, and guided it to sketch the shape of a salmon on Angusel’s forehead, near the hairline. Eileann felt a wee tingle as she completed the fish. His surprised expression told her he had felt it too.

“Now state to the anointed the god-mark you have drawn and its purpose.” Neoinean stepped away and regarded Eileann, cocking an eyebrow as the silence stretched.

Eileann cleared her throat and gazed at Angusel. “The salmon of Clota. For wisdom.” She wasn’t sure how a warrior fighting in the throes of battle frenzy could exercise wisdom, but she was not going to cast doubt upon her teacher’s example or the purpose the goddess had revealed.

Angusel bobbed his head, his curly black hair obscuring the fish.

Palms angled upward, Fioruisge changed the chant to echo Eileann’s words and embellish them, begging for the goddess’s gift to be bestowed upon the anointed.

“Use what you know of the gods and their abilities, my lady,” said Neoinean, “to draw their marks upon the anointed where you believe those divine gifts will benefit him the most.”

“Please draw the god-marks so that my armor hides them.” Angusel glanced at Neoinean, uncertainty creasing the salmon. “Does the anointing permit this?”

“It does,” stated the apothecary.

“They are meant to be seen!” Eileann itched to shake sense into him, but touching the anointed was forbidden save to craft the god-marks. “How will the gods find you if you hide the marks?”

“The anointed does not wish to offend those who have rejected him, and that is a worthy consideration.” Her teacher, apparently exempt from the touching stricture, patted Eileann’s shoulder. To her surprise, Fioruisge wove Neoinean’s words into the chant. “Fear not, child. The gods will see the marks as you draw them, and they shall not forget. Priests and warriors may choose to make their god-marks permanent, but the rite does not require it.”

Eileann inclined her head at Angusel. “As you will, then.”

Behind shuttered eyelids, she cast about for an image to draw and received a double blessing. Upon opening her eyes, she asked Angusel to lift his arms so she could anoint his biceps. The sketches looked crude, childish, and incomplete. She prayed for them to work; she hoped that the longer and stronger tingling was a sign that they would. “The bull of Lugh on your sword arm for strength, and the stag of Cernunnos on your shield arm for cunning.”

Fioruisge added Eileann’s pronouncements, raising her arms higher with each new verse.

Whatever concoction Neoinean had given Eileann must have taken full effect. In swift succession she drew the spear and rod of Nemetona on Angusel’s right thigh for fierceness, the mare of Epona on his left thigh for speed, and the sun of Lord Annaomh over his heart.

“For hope,” she told him about the sun, and wondered at the word choice the god had inspired. The sun of Annaomh represented justice, leadership, and truth. Lord Annaomh was revered for those traits, as were the warriors who honored him. And yet hope was appropriate, since the strengthening sun delivered salvation from winter’s grip, and the Lord of Light embodied salvation from the eternal ravages of his twin brother, Annàm, and the evil Samhraidhean.

Angusel beamed without touching her, as was proper for this phase of an tùs. The time for their touching would come, but not soon enough for Eileann’s liking.

The final image burned into her brain and killed her swelling excitement.

She gasped, fist to mouth.

“What is it, child?” asked Neoinean.

“A mark I dare not draw upon the anointed,” Eileann whispered. That the image was unlike any she had seen for this god represented the least of her worries. “I fear what it may do to him—to us both.” 

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Kim Headlee lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, Great Pyrenees goat guards, and assorted wildlife. People and creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins--the latter having been occupied as recently as the mid-twentieth century--seem to be sticking around for a while yet. Kim has been a published novelist since 1999 with the first edition of Dawnflight (Sonnet Books, Simon & Schuster) and has been studying the Arthurian legends for nigh on half a century. 

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Open Internationally: $20 Amazon,  Gift codes for e-books (several titles, including some not being toured); and audiobooks of Dawnflight, and related novellas The Color of Vengeance and The Challenge.

 US only: Print copies of The Color of Vengeance, The Challenge, another related novella titled Twins, and The Challenge comic book (one winner each)

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway! 

https://www.silverdaggertours.com/sdsxx-tours/the-dragons-dove-chronicles-book-tour-and-giveaway