#the way the show utilizes both his presence and absence

[ladylightning]

the way the absence of john winchester haunt sam and dean in ways that are more real than any ghost they have ever faced. the way john echoes so loudly in the narrative even in episodes he’s not mentioned, in seasons where he never appears. the way john possesses dean when he’s angry and sam when he’s grieving. the way john is the one true god of the narrative, the absent father who does not answer prayers or phone calls. the righteous man who does not break in hell but breaks down and hands his child a gun. john and the memory of his holy mary. john the prophet and his sacred text. john and his prodigal son that he knows has to die. 

#john winchester #john as a character and narrative tool is so fascinating to me #the way the show utilizes both his presence and absence #the intergenerational trauma and cycle of abuse stuff is what elevates the show #even when the writers are fumbling the motw stuff or the season arcs #the impact of john is still so apparent and raw and visible #a lot of that is on the actors vs the writers tho #john winchester hate club #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #SPN

[jasontoddiefor]

Retranslation of the Sith Code from a Linguistic Perspective

Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Nwûl tash. Dzwol shâsotkun. Through passion, I gain strength. Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk. Through strength, I gain power. Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan. Through power, I gain victory. Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha. Through victory, my chains are broken. Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak. The Force shall free me. Wonoksh Qyâsik nun.

Star Wars has a couple conlangs – from Huttese to Ryl, many cultures in a galaxy far, far away have their own words. The, admittedly, most famous conlang is Mando’a, the language of the Mandalorians. It has recently gained even more popularity due to The Mandalorian and the many headcanons about the clones and their culture floating around in fandom. While Mando’a is undoubtedly the conlang with the most extensive vocabulary, it is not the soundest Star Wars conlang from a linguistic perspective. That honor belongs to the version of the Sith conlang that was later amended and developed by Ben Grossblatt.

The Sith Code, as we know it, was developed by David Gaider in 2003 for the game Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. Grossblatt’s conlang was created seven years later in 2010.

When you consider this, Grossblatt had two options when creating his conlang and translation of the Code. He could translate the Code from English into Sith, or he could pretend the English (or “Basic”) version of the Code resulted from a translation from Sith.

Why does this matter?

[AO3]

This question is easily answered when you think about the various meanings of the words. As every bilingual person knows, translating a text from one language to another isn’t easy because there are no two languages whose vocabulary matches completely. Let’s take an example from the Code:

“asha” (noun) is translated as “victory”.

This translation, however, does not explain what kind of victory “asha” refers to. While English may have only one term for victory, a Sith could differentiate between “victory you achieved on your own” and “victory by decimating your enemies”. Or “victory” might only be one translation of the word and others could be “dominance, control, superiority”. All these words lean into the direction of “victory” through the worldview of the Sith.

Basically, Grossblatt had to decide whether the English version should be the end result or the starting point of his version of the Code in Sith.

In this essay, I intend to treat the English version of the Code as the translation of the original Sith language. This is important because it means that this deconstruction of the Sith Code will be influenced by my own interpretation of the various other meanings as possible Sith word could have, which are not necessarily Canon/Legends based. I will be translating this Code line by line and, in the end, create a new version of the Code which will deviate from the Canon one but hopefully picks up the grammatical cues from the Sith version that the current one is lacking.

TLDR: I don’t want to just explain the grammar, I want to analyze it.

Now, a brief look at the in-universe history of the Code of the Sith to shed some light on the perspective I’ll take into consideration while translating.

The Code itself was allegedly created by the Fallen Jedi Sorzus Syn. It was meant to be a pendant and an update of the Jedi Code simultaneously. While this is technically speaking fine, we do run into some troubles from a historical perspective.

The Code was first authored on the planet Korriban in 6900 BBY. The Jedi Exiles didn’t speak the language of the Sith species, which were enslaved by the Jedi Exiles. They used translation talismans, which granted them the ability to speak and read Sith as if it were their mother tongue.

…

Yeah, that’s stupid. I know. But it’s space fairy tale science fiction, so we’ll accept it and move on.

If you are bilingual, you might notice that you are more capable of speaking about a given topic in one language than in the other. Therefore, it would make sense if it were easier for the Jedi Exiles to talk about the Dark side in Sith, which was uniquely suited to speak about it. However, when the Code only exists as a differentiating point to the Jedi, they were bound to slip into a rhetoric that would be more along the lines of that they’d used as Jedi. That could explain why the Sith Code in Basic/English seems to parallel the Jedi Code so much. My working hypothesis is that the Sith Code – given that it is supposed to reflect Sith philosophy – can stand on its own with its own meaning. Otherwise, the Sith would only ever see themselves in contrast to the Jedi, which, given their superiority complex, is a rather strange view. Therefore, my translation will focus on staying as close to the original Sith language as possible.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Nwûl tash. Dzwol shâsotkun.

Now tackling that first line of the Code. The interesting part here is that Basic translates the two sentences as one. The first sentence – Nwûl tash – consists of two nouns: “peace” and “lie”. The present tense copula (the “to be”) is dropped, leaving the two nouns. When comparing this to the following sentence, we immediately see the first issue. The verb dzwol refers to “to be”. We also know it can be translated as “to exist”, “to abide”. The question that arises at this point is whether the first sentence drops dzwol or another verb referring to “to be” that we don’t know. What becomes clear, however, is that different emphasis is put on the two sentences. Many languages drop the tense copula. When the copula is dropped, the relation between the other constituents (components of the sentence) is understood. So reading the first sentence, you gain the impression that the statement “Peace is a lie” is a fact of life. “Peace = Lie” would be a mathematical way of writing it down.

Another critical thing to mention here is that Sith, as far as we know, doesn’t make use of determiners (a/the), and as such, the statement could possibly also be read as “The peace is the lie” or “A peace is the lie” and so on. But given that we do not have any information on the grammar in that aspect, I will not elaborate any further.

Now, let’s take a look at the second sentence by comparison. Here we have an explicit present tense dzwol. Unlike the rest of the Code, this sentence follows the VSO word order. Given that the rest of the Code uses topicalization, we can conclude that the verb dzwol is the focus of this sentence. Given that we are also given the translations “to exist, to abide”, perhaps it would be a more appropriate choice to use one of these words when translating to properly show the difference between the omitted present tense copula and the explicit one here.

Following this, we have to deal with shâsot and -kun. -kun refers to the adjective “only” and modifies the noun. shâsot is interesting because we are given the translation “passion” in the Code. The vocabulary list, however, translates it as “struggle”. While both have overlapping meanings, I would argue in favor of the “struggle” translation.

“Passion” stems from the Latin “passio” meaning “suffering, enduring”. Nowadays, it is used­ in Christianity to describe the suffering of Christ, but also, citing Merriam-Websters here, “the state or capacity of being acted on by external agents or forces”, as well as being motivated/moved by intense emotions. However, “struggle”, is defined as “to make strenuous or violent efforts in the face of difficulties or opposition” and “to proceed with difficulty or with great effort”. Given that the first sentence of the Code refers to the idea that peace doesn’t exist, I believe an emphasis on the aspect of fighting, which we find in “struggle”, would be appropriate.

Personally, I’d prefer “to exist” over “abide” for the verb as well. “abide” may imply that only the struggle has to be endured. I’d favor a reading that instead emphasizes the contrast that the absence of peace means the presence of nothing but struggle. My translation of the first line of the Sith Code would therefore be:

Peace is a lie. Only struggle exists. Nwûl tash. Dzwol shâsotkun.

Now we can consider the next line: Through passion, I gain strength. Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk.

Before we can tackle the translation, we have to consider three grammatical construction.

Sith is typically VSO (Verb Subject Object).

Sith has instrumental case, which is marked on the noun with -jontû. Generally, this is translated as “by” or “with” or “using”.

Sith has alethic verb mood, which is marked on the verb with -atul. Alethic mood refers to “the truth in the world” as opposed to epistemic mood, which is “the truth in an individual's mind” (epistemic). While this differentiation is not without criticism, given that all truths in the world are filtered through our perceptions of the world, it is interesting to note that Sith apparently does make this difference.

Now that we have considered these, I will break down the second sentence. The first thing I have to mention is that this sentence and the following ones are topicalized. Shâsotjontû is the word shâsot in instrumental case. As before, I prefer the “struggle” translation. The instrumental case itself is translated as “through” which is an interesting choice as that is not a standard translation. I’d instead go with the “using” translation as it further highlights that a Sith utilizes whatever tools they deem necessary and needed. Objects and people are measured against what value they have for a given person, how useful they are if you want to spell it out. Furthermore, it highlights that the Sith, at one point, actually discussed the Code and the “best” way to use the Dark side.

The verb châtsatul is in alethic mood and translates to “gain”. This, again, also fits well with the “using” translation of the instrumental case. The subject of this sentence is nu the first person pronoun “I”. tyûk translates to “strength”. Here we run into the previously elaborated victory problem as well. The Code gives us no explanation of what kind of strength is meant here. The idea that it’s only physical strength is, of course, ridiculous. It could also cover mental strength and strength in the Force, as well as the words “might”, “courage”, “durability” and so on. This issue concerning the lack of vocabulary will continue to follow us through the complete translation of this text. As I have now elaborated on it twice, I will only make references to it in the future, with perhaps here and there a suggestion for a more appropriate translation.

My translation of the second line, taking -atul into consideration, would therefore be as follows:

Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk. Using struggle, I necessarily gain strength.

Now we can turn to the third line: Through strength, I gain power. Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan.

The only new word here is midwan, which is translated as “power”. Again, the definition of power in this context isn’t clear. The translation of this line would be:

Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan. Using strength, I necessarily gain power.

We can now turn to the next line: Through power, I gain victory. Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha.

I already elaborated at length on the various possible definitions of “victory”. I, personally, prefer a reading that equals “victory” to “dominance”. What I also thought was interesting here is that the morpheme “asha” appears to be very common in Star Wars across cultures and languages. There are multiple people named with variations of that morpheme. And then, of course, there is also the planet Ashas Ree, which is deep in the territory of the former Sith Empire and had a Jedi Temple built on top of a Sith Temple. Ashas Ree could be the Basic version of a Sith term. While we do not have the word “Ree”, phonologically, it would be pronounced /riː/, and Sith has the consonant /r/ and the vowel /i:/.

A side note about Sith phonology: Sometime between the Jedi Exiles taking over and the Prequels era, the Sith lost the vowel /e/ or /ɛ/ as the Sith of that time still had words like “jen” meaning “shadow”, “dark”, and “hidden”. As this word, and others making use of it, are apparently still in use today, their vowel probably changed to /i/, /æ/, or /aɪ/. Or maybe the word “jen” is pronounced as it once was as English/Basic does have these vowels, and people can therefore say “jen”.

Returning to our translation, we can read:

Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha. Using power, I necessarily gain victory.

And now we’re going to look at a line that made me cry:

Through victory, my chains are broken. Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak.

Once more, before we can actually look at the translation, we have to look at the grammar. This is the breakdown Ben Grossblatt made of that sentence:

Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak. Victory+INSTR break+ERG+LG INAM OBJ chain my+PL. Through victory, my chains break.

INSTR refers to instrumental case I already elaborated on.

ERG refers to Ergative. The interfix -win- is added to a transitive verb to indicate ergativity, meaning that the grammatical subject of that verb is its semantic object, while the true semantic agent remains unexpressed.

LG INAM OBJ means “large inanimate object”. This refers to the fact that the verb kots is part of a group of verbs called “handling verbs”. These verbs mark what kind of object is affected by them. -ot is the marker for “large inanimate object”. When searching for languages that use these “handling verbs”, Navajo was one of the first results.

Sith plurals appear to be marked on the articles or, given the lack of such, on the possessive markers: nuyak is therefore “my” and “the object I possess is plural”.

Now that we have tackled the grammar, I will elaborate on how it applies to this sentence. The ashajontû construction should be well-understood by now, so I will not linger on it.

Interesting is here that the possessive marker nuyak also indicates the number of the possessed object. In a way, this enhances the claim on the object as it is more intrinsically connected to it. The possessed object here is itsu, the “chain”, which only gains its plural through the possessive. It would be interesting here to know what the other verb markers are as “chains”, in this context, are categorized as physical objects. At the same time, their meaning is obviously meant to be metaphorical. Knowing whether Sith can make the difference and might choose to do so here would be beneficial when analyzing this line. However, evoking the image of physical chains here, which are broken, makes the act seem more striking.

And now we’ll tackle the verb. The root kots gets inflicted twice by the ergative marker and the object marker. According to Grossblatt, it can be read as “completely shatter” or “completely break”. As the purpose of the object marker -ot has already been elaborated on, I will now focus on the ergative marker.

Ergativity is one possible way of hiding the concrete agent of action without passivizing the sentence. Consider “The window broke” vs. “The window was broken” vs. “I broke the window”.

This makes the overall translation of the sentence rather interesting. The original translation reads “Through victory, my chains are broken” which is passive and not ergative. Therefore, it would be more correct to follow Grossblatt’s reading of “my chains break completely”. Still, the fact that we do not have an overt agent here makes this sentence quite interesting. While the method – ashajontû – is known, the agent could be either the speaker themself, or another person doing it for them. Given that the adverb “completely” is added to the verb, perhaps this sentence suggests that on your own, you can come quite far breaking your chains but not reach that finalized step. For that, you need victory.

Furthermore, this offers an interesting perspective on the Sith and their teachings, especially on the Banite Sith, if you read “victory” as something closer to “dominance”. In this case, the sentence almost seems to imply that by becoming stronger and surpassing another person, perhaps your Master, you manage to break your chains completely. An even deeper reading might allude to how the Sith conceptualize the chains that keep them. They appear to put their own freedom and thirst for power above everything else. Perhaps that is already too much interpretation for one line, but it was worth noting. In any case, my translation of that sentence is:

Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak. Using victory, my chains break completely.

After this heavy sentence, we only have one left!

The Force shall free me. Wonoksh Qyâsik nun.

This sentence is relatively uncomplicated. nun is the accusative pronoun “me” and Qyâsik is the Sith word for Force. wonoksh is the word for “to free” in future tense. The future tense is marked by -oksh and this is the part where we get to the slightly complicated/annoying part of the sentence.

Again, we don’t know if this is the only future tense Sith has or what its exact purpose is. As opposed to English, which technically speaking only has the tenses “past” and “not-past”, Sith marks a definite future. However, this future could also have undertones such as an imperative mood. Sadly, we don’t know anything about it. Now for the future tense. As inquires across the globe have told me, “shall” is pretty outdated. In a modern translation of the Code, you’d probably say:

Wonoksh Qyâsik nun. The Force will free me.

But that detail is relatively minor. Now that I have broken down every line of the Code, let’s put it back together.

Peace is a lie. Only struggle exists. Using struggle, I necessarily gain strength. Using strength, I necessarily gain power. Using power, I necessarily gain victory. Using victory, my chains break completely. The Force will free me.

Does this Code sound better than the original work? Probably not. I have to say, I do prefer the “struggle” translation and I like the first line more in my version, but otherwise, this Code doesn’t sound particularly great. However, it was also not meant to sound good. The purpose was to create a translation closer to the Sith language version, to reverse-engineer it if you want. I do think that this endeavor was worthwhile as, for me, it has shed some more light on the thinking of the Sith.

And also this:

Sources

Star Wars: The Sith

Sith Language

Speak like a Sith article

Sith Code

Ben Grossblatt’s breakdown of his translation

Sorzus Syn, author of the Sith Code

History of the Sith Dynasties

Wookiepedia Search of asha

Translation talisman

Ashas Ree

Temple of Ashas Ree

Grammar

Zero copula

Merriam-Webster on passion

Merriam-Webster on struggle

Alethic modality

Navajo Handling Verbs

Navajo Classificatory Verbs

Ergativity

Instrumental case

Color Coded Version of this Essay

#star wars #sith #jedi #meta #sw #worldbuilding #fanfic #conlang #linguistics

[sepublic]

Season 2 Teaser for The Owl House?

           So for those of you who haven’t caught up; A few days ago, Dana released an exclusive photo of herself on Instagram, with a cryptically-blurred reflection in her window that was all too conveniently-placed;

           Now, this COULD just be some game she’s playing, but like; Reverse-image searches have yielded nothing, and it hurts no one to speculate! Thanks to @50shades-of-blue, who had the common sense to remember to flip the reflection, we have something more akin to THIS;

           This image bears a decent resemblance to a sequence from the show’s intro, in terms of structuring; We have characters divided and separated by golden bars. This points to Dana’s image being a shot from a new intro for Season 2, either one for an entire season, or a single episode. I say this, because looking at the subject matter… On the very left, we see something vaguely blue, and similar in resemblance to a bile sac;

           This could actually be the Titan’s heart, image below for reference;

           Not only that, but as Blue’s helpful tracing points out, the other two figures in the ‘slots’ bear a resemblance to Owl Mask and Kikimora, the latter having the fingers of her hand-hair splayed out, and the former appearing to take off their mask.

           What little we see of Owl Mask bears a decent-enough resemblance to the Season 2 character that Dana teased, further cementing a connection between the two. Not only that, but we get a glimpse of five (possibly six) colorful symbols above the three character slots, each likely pertaining to the Coven Heads, as shown by Blue’s earlier tracing.

           In particular, you can tell the blue symbol has the same distinctive, U-shaped horns of the Healing Head; And the green symbol bears enough resemblance to the Plant Head, with their dark-green bangs covering most of their lighter-green face. Combined with symbols that seem similar to the Construction, Beastkeeping, and Oracle Heads, the exact layout we’ve seen so far coincidentally seems to match the banner layout seen in The First Day;

           You have from left to right; The Construction, Plant, Beastkeeping, Bard, and Healing Heads! Now, if you look to the very right of the image, there also seems to be a sixth symbol, a bit lower than the others, with what appears to be a purple coloration; This is likely the Oracle Head, especially since it matches with the aforementioned placement of the banners. Now, exact positioning beside, we also know that there are three more symbols obscured, the ones for the Abominations, Potions, and Illusion Heads. If we go by the pattern established by the rest of the image, with the Heads at either end of the display being placed lower than the rest, and the rest being shown in an up-down pattern… Then it seems we more or less have the vast majority of this mysterious screenshot, with some of it blacked out!

           As others such as @preciseprose​ have suggested, there’s a good chance that this is a screen transition, hence why only a specific corner and portion is obscured; Because if this shot parallels the one seen in the Season 1 intro with Willow, Gus, and Amity, which burns away in the middle to reveal King… Then it makes sense that a similar transition would happen with this show, perhaps obscuring from the outside-in this time as a contrast.

           Now, what’s interesting is that this style of shot, once reserved for protagonists and friends/peers of Luz, is now being designated towards lesser-known antagonists associated with the Emperor’s Coven. While this could just be how the Season 2 intro works, with Gus, Willow, and Amity appearing later or earlier, likely closer to Luz; It does make me and others wonder if we’ll get a dedicated intro to the Emperor’s Coven with Belos, front-and-center! I’ve talked at enormous length in the past of Luz and Belos being parallels… And it’d match other Disney TVA shows, such as Gravity Falls, Ducktales, or Amphibia, who had villainous takeovers for their shows’ intros as well!

           This could of course allude to an episode with a heavy focus on the members of the Coven System, specifically Belos and his aides Owl Mask and Kikimora, as well as the Head witches of the Covens he appointed and presumably trusts. This is of course all fascinating and has me even MORE intrigued, but also; The placement of the Titan’s heart alongside Owl Mask and Kikimora suggests its treatment as its own character as well… Which, if it’s a giant heart, it presumably represents and operates as a stand-in for the Titan, perhaps the conduit with which Belos even speaks to it (and vice-versa?) through! AKA the Heart represents the Titan, it IS the Titan, which then suggests that this Emperor’s Coven triumvirate consists of the Titan, Owl Mask, and Kikimora…

           But that’s not the only consideration! I’ve talked before about character parallels in this show… We have Luz and Amity, Eda and Lilith, Owlbert and Lilith’s palisman. I’ve speculated on King and Kikimora being parallels, and even Hooty and Belos… But that always made me wonder; What about Willow and Gus? Do THEY have parallels, associated with the Coven System and its Emperor? And for a while I entertained Warden Wrath and Owl Mask, but lo and behold; I may be right, at least about one of those two, and also in general about parallels! Because if we compare the placements… We have the Titan and Willow, Owl Mask and Gus, and Amity and Kikimora!

           Owl Mask being a parallel to Gus is interesting, because they’re operating as a spy for Belos; And presumably, Illusionists would be great at stealth. I wouldn’t be surprised if Owl Mask used Illusions, albeit to disguise and mask their own presence; A parallel and contrast to Gus, who uses Illusions to create and draw attention and spectacle! Not only that, but it makes me wonder if Owl Mask is also a child prodigy like Gus, if they have issues with being overlooked, and as a contrast to Gus, they’ve embraced this instead of fighting against it…? And Owl Mask is sent to spy on Luz the human, perhaps a parallel to Gus’ own fascination with humans…?

           Then we’ve got Willow and the Titan’s heart. Now, this one interests me… And it makes me think about how Willow is presented with a raw, innate strength, and an uncanny ability to cast magic without summoning a circle nor glyph. I’ve talked before about Willow and Belos having parallels, as they both have distinct shots with their eyes glow green; Could this parallel stem more from a connection to the Titan, than anything else? Then as @aguigenae suggested, instead of Luz (or JUST Luz) being able to speak to the Titan… What if it was Willow? It’d re-contextualize her ability to draw onto raw, magical potential through pure emotions… And similarly, a lot of her spells draw power from the Isles itself in the form of plants, and we know the Isles as synonymous with the Titan!

           With how Belos seems to draw power and spells from the Isles, albeit with fleshy and stone formations… Perhaps Willow serves as a parallel and foil, creating constructs from the Isles as well, but in the form of plantlife! Her being able to speak to plants might provide a medium to contact the Isles they’re rooted in… And as I said before, Willow has shown an unusual ability with magic not unlike how Belos can cast magic, but through his unique form of spheres and orbs. If Willow is associated with the Titan’s heart, perhaps she could speak to it in a way that Belos can’t- Perhaps they BOTH can speak, and this will lead to a conflict with Belos, who seeks to preserve this ‘privilege’? Keep in mind that it’s Willow who openly defies Belos the most by rallying an entire crowd against him- If she’s the face of the revolution, her being able to speak to the Titan could create further parallels and odds between the two!

           Not only that, but… Talking again of Willow and the Titan’s Heart, if the two are parallels; What does this say about the Titan itself? Perhaps like Willow, it’s a being with raw magical power, easily terrifying, and with a connection to nature (as it IS nature in its case). If these characters are dark parallels, then what if the Titan was like Inner Willow, wrathful and fully exploring its dangerous power, having felt harmed and hurt, twisted…

           But what if it was also a Willow who never learned to stand up for herself? A powerful, dangerous witch… But with no true self-esteem, no believe in themselves? What if the Titan was like a Dark Willow, and this self-doubt was what allowed Belos to manipulate it? I’ve speculated before that perhaps Belos has managed to sway and influence the Titan into seeing his way as the right way to handle magic… If it was a dark parallel to Willow, perhaps the Titan is hopeless, thinking there’s nothing it can do to oppose Belos, feeling like it’s smarter than him, as a toxic friend with control; Think Anne and Sasha from Amphibia!

           We might even get a scene paralleling Willow and Amity’s first appearance, with how Amity condescendingly mocks Willow, albeit with potential, if misguided, good intentions. Perhaps Belos is like this- He’s cruel and manipulative of the Titan, but he also genuinely believes in what he’s doing, that this IS the best for the Isles, and that this is how the Titan should have its magic be utilized and taught. But, in absence of Amity, we see Willow’s true feelings of resentment and anger that have bottled up… So what if the Titan was like that with Belos, except dialed up? What if the Titan hates Belos or wants to see him defeated, but isn’t entirely sure if he’s wrong, either…

           So to get into blind speculation, what if- What if the Titan has tried to create a new champion? By going behind Belos’ back and communicating with a new, younger witch, perhaps one that reminds it of Belos before he turned corrupt… What if the Titan is contacting Luz and/or Willow? Hoping to find someone else who will actually speak for them, not just talk over as Belos possibly is doing? Maybe the Titan is trying to foster a new witch, an alternative champion to depose Belos or take over; Or have Belos and Luz/Willow compete, to prove to the Titan who has the best philosophy to magic through their own respective victories?

           And if Belos were to find out… Well, I imagine he might do something drastic to the Titan. He has control and access to its heart- Could he torture it in retaliation, perhaps causing quakes across the Isles that echo the Titan’s throes of agony? Would Belos do something drastic to prevent the Titan from helping Luz/Willow, adversely affecting the Boiling Isles in the process? Similarly, if Belos is a toxic friend to the Titan, perhaps there’s symbolism to his castle built around the Titan’s heart… Kudos to @fermented-writers-block​ for some of these ideas;

          Perhaps it could be interpreted as Belos having an iron grip over its heart, or the Titan building up walls around its heart –thanks to Belos’ encouragement- and letting in only Belos…? Alas, Belos is the one who convinces the Titan to hide itself away and let only him in, because only HE cares, only he knows best… And yet, he’s the one who helped build those walls that the Titan hides within. Ultimately, his castle MUST fall- Especially if it’s being used to exploit and manipulate the Titan’s heart in other, literal ways as well…

          Finally, let’s talk Amity and Kikimora sharing placements. There is of course the obvious implication of romantic feelings, but also… What if, instead, there was this idea of Belos being like Luz to Amity, for Kiki? For Amity, Luz was an outsider who came out of nowhere and changed her life for the better, helped her stand up for herself- What if Belos was that to Kikimora? What if he was an outsider, a human even (before he changed and decayed) that changed Kikimora’s life forever after he appeared from nowhere… The two starting to a prickly start, before truly caring for each other? As Belos encouraged Kikimora to stand up for herself, eventually culminating in her own life improving(?) as Kiki is now second only to him, the Emperor of the Boiling Isles! It might explain why he seems to trust her so much- The two genuinely care for each other and Kikimora feels like she owes everything to him…

           And, to incorporate my own analysis/speculation of Amity; Perhaps Kikimora has placed all of her sense of self-worth into Belos, about how she can help him, because only HE ever made her feel like something! What if as a toxic parallel to Luz and Amity, Kikimora has lowkey become dependent upon Belos- Who, while kind to Kikimora… Kiki still has placed all of her self-esteem not in herself, but in Belos’ approval of her. And while Belos DOES approve and provide support, it’s still dangerously dependent and shows that Kikimora can’t really stand for herself, that she needs someone else as a litmus test to judge her worth as a person.

          Finally, we know Amity is the least talented compared to Willow and Gus; Given how we have the literal Titan and Owl Mask, compared to Kikimora, who caves into Luz’s threats… It’s possible Kikimora is the least powerful amongst the Titan and Owl Mask, but has made up for it with raw determination and skill? After all, she presumably cast the magical cage that all of Luz’s efforts wouldn’t have been able to defeat. Perhaps like Amity, Kikimora had to work hard to prove herself, to earn respect; And like Amity in Episode 3, Kikimora feels a desperate need to hold onto that sense of accomplishment and superiority, and can and WILL retaliate viciously when it’s threatened. To Kikimora, she’s dedicated everything into making up for her own shortcomings, just like Amity- So she despises cheaters, or at least people who undermine that work.

           (I know what some may be thinking- Isn’t Kikimora a King parallel? Well, these parallels work in multiple ways… Amity parallels Luz, but then so too does Belos, presumably. I wouldn’t be surprised if Amity was both a parallel to Luz AND Kikimora, then.)

           And, that’s my general thoughts, analysis, and speculation, all based from this reflection we’ve seen! It’s possible Dana is trolling us, by accident or otherwise, with a videogame screenshot… But hey- It doesn’t hurt anyone if we’re wrong, I say! It’s all in good fun… Besides, if it WAS a teaser from Season 2, and we didn’t give our shot, then we’d all feel like idiots! We may as well take our chance and analyze, because- Just in case…!

#the owl house #the owl house luz #Luz noceda #the owl house belos #emperor belos #the owl house willow #willow park #the owl house gus #augustus porter #the owl house amity #amity blight #the owl house kikimora #the owl house season 2 #speculation #theory #analysis #Dana terrace

[pinkja]

Strange Kids, Those Frye Twins

In which Ethan Frye notices the oddly weird behavior of his children that indicates a much deeper level of sentience than anyone could’ve thought they had.

—

Ethan Frye didn’t know when he started noticing it, the strange… patterns he sees in his children. He could’ve chalked it up to his absence for the first six years of their lives, something that could’ve existed long before he entered their lives and would exist long after.

He would’ve chalked it up to that if it weren’t the general uneasiness their behavior caused in him. The queasiness he felt in one look that lingered on for a second too long, the too quiet steps that one would attribute to a Master Assassin, not two six, seven come November, year old kids who haven’t even started training, or the slight tilt of their heads when they thought they were alone, even for the briefest moments, before they caught wind of some else’s presence and just started… staring at whomever dared to interrupt their… whatever.

And at first Ethan brushed that story off, dismissing the cautiousness of the maids and servants as mere stories. That was until he experienced it himself one September morning, the third of September, he remembers. It was almost midnight, he was exhausted, and he had been working so hard that day that he didn’t even have time to wish his children goodnight. Not like he usually did, but it was nice to put in the effort sometimes. He was on his way to his own bedroom, footsteps quiet due to years of training, and passed the twins bedroom.

The door was open, an unusual sight to Ethan. He paused before passing the door, masked his presence by hiding in the shadows, and utilized his Second Sight, only to see two small figures of… of… Ethan didn’t know how to describe it, but his head was hurting the more he looked, and the warmth in his chest clued him in to the fact that those were his children. With his Second Sight, he could see that they were sitting on their beds, Evie on the left side of the room, and Jacob on the right. Their heads were tilted, and one leg dangled off the bed, swinging side to side in a hypnotic motion. They were a mirror image of each other. Mid swing they paused the movement of their leg, almost as if they were frozen in time, and in the blink of an eye, their heads were turned to Ethan’s direction, as if they were staring right at him through the wall.

Something told him to stay there, to not make himself known and wait until their attention was somewhere else, but that queasy feeling came back again and he knew it wouldn’t go away until the twins weren’t staring at him through the wall. So he deactivated his Second Sight, and took a few loud steps until he was in front of their strangely opened door, in their line of sight.

They were still staring at him, six-year-old eyes wide like saucers, and almost shining in the completely dark room. Ethan looked around, trying to understand what the hell his kids were doing. The window was closed, and thick curtains had been placed in front of it, allowing nothing but darkness to be in the room. They didn’t even light a lamp, which made sense since they were supposed to be sleeping, but it didn’t feel… right to say that was the reason. It wasn’t true.

Once his inspection of the room was over, he met the eyes of his children once again, and he swore they hadn’t blinked this entire time, eyes both watery and shining like a child, but dry from not functioning properly. Ethan wondered how that could be as he tried to figure out something to say now that he held their gazes, or gaze. He often thought they shared one eye, one touch, one mind, and soul, and that theory only seemed to be proven correct in the years to come.

“I thought you two would be asleep by now.” He scolded himself for letting that be the best thing he could have come up with in that moment.

Jacob, always the aloof one, well towards Ethan at least, didn’t respond. The twins both blinked, finally, in unison, before Evie responded, for the both of them, Ethan assumed. “We do not need to. Goodnight.” They continued to stare at him as he stood there for a few more seconds, until he gave a curt nod, voice caught in his throat at the abrupt farewell, and moved past the door, not even bothering to remember about the open door until he heard the pitter-patter of a child’s footsteps, purposely loud, that he knows, and the click of the door as it shut.

That night, Ethan wondered if they had left the door open on purpose or not. Was he meant to see that, or did he intrude on something meant for someone, or something, else? Each answer made him uneasy again, and he knew that his children wouldn’t stop making him feel that way.

His children, he didn’t know just why yet, but his children were indescribable. He didn’t know what the reason was for their behavior or what actions they were going to take because of it. And no matter what excuse he brings up, whether it be due to their grandmother’s influence, some strange drink or food, or whatever, it never seems to fit. It never seems to describe what was the root of this… he didn’t want to call it an issue, but it was definitely a mystery. One that Ethan doesn’t believe that he will be able to solve in his lifetime.

The queasy feeling comes back to him that night at dinner. He is the first one at the dinner table, a strange occurance, as the twins’ grandmother always told him of how they would rush to the table at dinner time, the appetite of toddlers insatiable. But he waits for his children, watching the entryways to the dining room to greet them. It hasn’t fully settle in, that queasy feeling, not until he looks away from the entryway and sees Evie and Jacob sitting in their respective chairs across from him. Evie on the left, and Jacob on the right.

They’re a bit taller now, Ethan denotes, when he figures out that they aren’t using a book to make them taller. Of course he realizes this before the shock of their sudden appearance can settle in fully. Once it does, the queasy feeling comes back in droves. He didn’t hear them walk in, let alone see them. Sure, there were other entries, but those were only known to Ethan and his allies in the Brotherhood, used for late night meetings and exchange of information that can’t be disclosed anywhere else. Ethan doubts that they know of those, but couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, put it past them. He also couldn’t excuse the possibility that they just… appeared, no matter how absurd he thought the explanation was. He kids were absurd, yeah, that’s the word! His kids were absurd.

Evie places her hands upon her lap, while Jacob places his on each side of the small plate in front of him. Jacob’s hands are wet and red, as if he ran them under hot water, and he’s slightly hunched over, staring at his empty plate with no emotion in those hazel eyes. Evie sits quietly, spine straight and fiddling with the white ribbon in her braided hair with her left hand, also wet, and also red.

“I’m surprised you two are late. You’re usually the first ones to be at the dinner table, according to your grandmother.” He can see the frown form on the twins’ faces, or face, they are alike in so many aspects, at the mention of their grandmother. It is a quick change from their blank stare just a second before. Ethan’s hand reaches for the bell to signal the servants to bring out the food. He is aware of the gaze on his hand, not red and wet like his children, and Ethan should probably ask about that before they started eating. “Did you two just finish washing up?” He asks, gesturing to their hands as he watches the servants bring in plates of dinner in a straight line. When he turns back to his children, they’re both staring intensely at him, head tilted just a bit, just for a second, before straightening out. Ethan tries not to startle at it, and coughs to keep his composure. They both nod, once, in response to him as the plates of food clatter in contact with the table, and the servants bow before leaving.

He can vaguely hear the servants’ whispers of a couple of children gone missing around town earlier. He should probably set an earlier curfew for his children.

He tries to spark up a conversation with the twins to distract him from that.

“So, what have you two been up to today?” He asks as he watches the two fix their plates with their red and wet hands, listening to the clinks of utensils as they grab their fill. Once they were done, Jacob and Evie switch plates, a strange ritual that Ethan has yet to figure out, but doesn’t want to interrupt, so he waits until they are done to grab food for himself.

Evie shoves food in her mouth before she can answer, and it is Jacob who speaks to him this time. “We played,” is his answer, and Ethan tries not to let the shock and unease show. It isn’t Jacob’s response that shocks him, but the fact that he spoke to him instead of Evie. He and Jacob had never truly gotten off on the right foot, the boy suspicious of him ever since his return from India. Ethan understands, of course. Understands that all he knew was his sister and grandmother, and never him, but even Evie was more open to Ethan than he. Evie spoke to him, Evie returned his hugs and signs of affection, Evie was a daughter. Jacob was not a son, or at least not yet. Ethan’s sure that it would resolve itself soon, he hopes.

And Ethan knows he shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts, knows that some part of Jacob, and therefore some part of Evie, feels the distance between them. The rift that exists due to years of absence. But he was trying to make it better, couldn’t he, and therefore they, recognize that?

Ethan moved to put food, pork, on his plate, grabbing greens as well, just to set a good example for his children.

“You shouldn’t be out all day,” Ethan starts, as he watches Jacob pick at the food on his plate. Did he not want to eat? Even after Evie had picked out what she knew he wanted? Strange. “You two aren’t able to defend yourselves properly, and there are a lot of strange people out there that could hurt you.” Evie blinks, swallowing her food before looking at Jacob, then down at his plate of food. Jacob was eating now, fingers tapping on the table.

“We are fine.” Jacob says once more, before the two eat in silence. Ethan decides to join them.

His eyes rake over his children, at Jacob’s chubby cheeks, his hair shiny, like his mother, and the way he twirls his fork around in between bites of food. He looks at Evie, who has been silent this whole dinner, who looks at Jacob out of the corner of her eyes, the ones that they share. The ones that sees everything Jacob sees, and observes him as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Her dress today is pink, a color he doesn’t see her wear often, and in her shiny hair is a white ribbon that Ethan doesn’t remember her wearing earlier. Although now that he’s thinking about it, did Evie change clothes throughout the day? Did Jacob? He doesn’t remember what they were wearing this morning, but it couldn’t have been black slacks and a blue shirt, in the case of Jacob, or the pink dress that Evie wears, could it? As he tries to think back to this morning, think back to his children, he realizes his memory is a bit fuzzy. He can’t visualize them clearly, can’t visualize the clothes they’re wearing, the expressions on their face, the words they spoke.

Was he just not paying attention? Was he just an awful father for not noticing?

Ethan focuses on his children once again. Playing, Jacob had said, but there were no signs of it on their figures. No dirt on Jacob’s clothes, no sweat on Evie’s brow, no harsh breathing from hours of playing. They’re cheeks are unusually flushed, but not from running, just from being extremely healthy. Now, Ethan could chalk it up to them just washing up before dinner, like they said they did, but he knew that it was a lie, that they didn’t do any of that.

What the hell did his children get up to today?

It was mid afternoon, The Twins could guess. Father is the one who kept the time, and Father is out doing god knows what. The Twins are in some field, one they’ve visited many times before, with lots of flowers and a stream not that far off. Evie, a Twin, sat down in the tall grass, dull brown hair flowing over her shoulders, touching a dress that had no color. In her lap sat a book, one she had read so long ago, and many Times before. Her skin was paler than normal, eyes less shiny than they should have been. Her eyes flickers over to her Twin, Jacob, who was near the stream, running back and forth as a crow rested on his thin, raised wrist. He wore pants and a button shirt that had no color, bare feet barely touching the grass as he ran. Dull brown hair flew over his unlit eyes, barely breaking a sweat as he hops into the air. The bird stayed perched, but gave its black wings a flap. Jacob settles down, catching Evie’s gaze and walking towards her. Evie closes her book, setting it down beside her, to her left, always to her left. Jacob, a Twin, her Twin, sits to her right, keeping his left arm raised so Evie can see the crow, a rook, clearly. Its black eyes stared at Evie, head cocked to the side, and Evie did the same.

Once their inspection of each other ended, Evie nods, looking at Jacob, who gives Evie a wide smile at her approval. Evie speaks, voice far beyond her years, petting the crow’s head with her finger. “A crow, this Time?”

Jacob nodded, rubbing under the bird’s beak. “Yup! This little bugger’s gonna be my Bird!” Evie nodded, moving her dull hair out of her face. “We need a name for him!” Jacob declared, looking around to spot something to give him a clue.

The Twins pause, blinking once, twice, before craning their heads near the trees that block the field off from the rest of the world. There stood a little girl, older then The Twins’ given age, around thirteen or fourteen years old. She’s wearing a pink dress, and has a white ribbon holding her hair in a braid. Next to her stood a boy, same age as the girl, wearing black dress pants, a blue overcoat, and black boots, strange dress for the slightly warm weather. The two were walking over to The Twins, bending down in front of them with wide smiles.

“Little girls shouldn’t play with animals like that, y’know?” The pink dressed girl says. Her hair doesn’t get in her face like Evie’s did. Evie blinks as she registers she was being talked to, and leans away a bit as she realizes the two strangers are in her space, in Their space. It was Their space. Jacob moves his arm away from the boy as he tried to touch his Bird. The rook gave a small caw of caution. Jacob eyes narrow at the frown on the boy’s face. “Come on, my friend and I have a better things we all can do then sit here in the dirt.” The little girl says, tugging on Evie’s dress without color. A sound of disapproval comes out of Jacob’s mouth, an animalistic sound almost. One look from Evie placated him, as his Twin took her arm back.

“Our friend has a carriage, you know! He said he’s going to let us visit the countryside, and you can come with us if you want.” The boy said as he tried to pet Jacob’s Bird once more. The Bird nipped at his fingers, cawing even louder. Jacob can feel his teeth grind together in annoyance, an emotion he doesn’t feel often in this Time.

The Twins stay silent though, still staring at the strangers with suspicion.

The strangers falter under the stare of The Twins, but didn’t back down. “Come on,” whined the girl, “it’ll be fun! I promise!” She widens her eyes, something that The Twins are sure worked on many others. Not them, however.

The Twins are smart enough to know the strangers are trying to lure them somewhere. For what, The Twins do not care. All they care about is the fact that these strangers are in Their space, Their bubble.

The Twins gave one look to each other. An ask for permission. An understanding reached. A decision made.

In unison, they, The Twins, turned back towards the strangers as the sun seemed to dim, gone so, so fast, leaving the field in a semi state of darkness. In that state of darkness, The Twins eyes glow a color that could not be described, like ancient beings thought to only be seen in the sky. The wind blew, picking up speed slightly, whipping the stranger’s hair and clothes around them as it got darker and darker. The Twins remain unaffected by the change in weather, eyes boring into the souls of the strangers, who were unable to look away from the only source of light in the pitch black of the field.

A caw from the bird, an unseen flap of its wings, and as soon as the change started, it was over.

When the light returned, The Twins were petting the bird, staring at one another as another understanding was reached.

The strangers are gone now, were never there as far as The Twins are concerned.

There is new life in The Twins, that much anyone could tell if they could remember what they looked like before.

Their cheeks are rosier, hair shining in the sunlight, the eyes that they share bright. Evie holds a white ribbon in her hand, holding it out towards Jacob. Jacob nods and sets his Bird down on the ground. He stands up, adjusting his blue shirt and wiping off the dirt from his black pants, before settling behind Evie, his Twin. He grabs the ribbon from her hand and moves her shiny brown hair from hair face, letting it fall behind her. He braids her hair, tying it together with the white ribbon, readjusting the braid until it falls over her left shoulder, settling on her pink dress.

“Colin.” Evie says once Jacob was done, fiddling with her new ribbon. Jacob looks at his Bird, who looks back at The Twins with a tilt of its head. The Twins did the same.

“Yes, Colin.” Jacob says, happy that his Bird has a Given name for this Time. Evie smiles as well, standing up with her Twin. Colin gives another flap of its wings, wanting to fly, and needing permission. Jacob nods, and The Twins watch the bird fly towards the sky, circling over them for protection. They take a few steps over to the river, feet barely touching the ground as they bend down, Evie to the left, Jacob to the right. In unison they submerge their hands in the running water, interrupting the age old flow. They sit like this for a while, watching as the water starts to bubble up, like a pot of water sitting over a fire. They keep their hands there and watch as steam rises from the water, surrounding them and clouding their vision.

A few seconds pass and they remove their hands, now wet and red, from the water. The Twins are clean now. They stand up in unison, wiping the dirt from their knees, and Jacob raises an arm for Colin. The Bird came, sitting on his wrist with a cry.

“No.” Evie says as she goes to pick up her book. Jacob turns to her with a frown. “No.” She repeats, turning to her Twin. “He will not know what to do with Colin.” She states as a fact. It was. Evie gives her brother a sympathetic look. “Colin will still be here, Jacob. We will come back after Father leaves.” The frown never left Jacob’s face, but he knows his Twin is right. With a lift of his arm, Colin is gone, circling the air once more. “He needs Father’s trust.” Evie states another fact as they walk out the field.

“No.” Jacob objects, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Jacob.”

“No!”

Evie sighs, taking his hand in hers. A touch that calmed her Twin down. “It doesn’t have to be a full conversation. You know that as well as I. Just establish a connection so Colin doesn’t see him as a threat.” She gave his fingers a squeeze, and Jacob lets out a huff.

“Fine. I draw the line at 3 sentences, though.”

“Deal.” She says, connecting their foreheads for a brief moment.

The Twins walked back to their home hand-in-hand, with a cry of Jacob’s Bird loud overhead.

As they prepare for bed that night, The Twins stand at the foot of their beds, staring at the opened door in anticipation. They can sense Father’s presence before they hear his footsteps, purposely loud this time. The Twins tilt their heads towards each other for a moment, reaching another understanding before focusing their eyes on Father’s figure.

Ethan didn’t know why his heart was beating so loudly as he walked towards the twin’s room. He tries to keep it in check as he approaches, footsteps loud in order to cover up the banging of his beating heart. Which sound the twins heard first, he is not sure. Once he reaches their door, he gives them a crooked smile, an odd thing to do, but he hopes expressing kindness would placate the… fear? Did he fear his children? God no, of course he didn’t, but it was something akin to that, was it not? The knowledge that his children were something else, something much… older or certainly not human, but at the same time they were. Maybe an ancient subset of human, or maybe something that came before, evolved into the now.

Whatever his children were, whatever they are or have been or will be, Ethan would have to deal with it accordingly, deal with their absurdity in a way that would not have them turn on him once a wrong step was made.

“I just wanted to say goodnight,” he states, fingers drumming on the doorframe, and as he looked at their slightly glowing eyes, he wonders how many times his children have been on this Earth before, how much knowledge they have, how much they experienced. They blink at him, and Ethan feels his uneasiness return.

“Goodnight, Father.” They say in unison, and Ethan is once again shocked at Jacob’s speaking. He watches them climb into bed, laying down on their side and facing one another without blinking. At this point Ethan knows he’s observing something he shouldn’t be, so he closes the door and walks back to his room for the night.

Yeah, he would have to deal with his children accordingly, even if he doesn’t completely understand what the hell they are yet.

#assassin’s creed syndicate #assassin's creed #assassin’s creed #jacob frye #ethan frye #Evie Frye #ac syndicate #assassin’s creed fanfic #assassin’s creed fic #fanfic #horror #? #would you call it that #Frye Twins #eldritch beings

[clayandstuff]

Becho Musings Part 2

Some more musings about Becho while simultaneously addressing unfounded blorke takes that make my blood boil and have no basis in reality. Focusing on S5 and on since I’ve already covered Becho’s relationship before they got together, this will look at them specifically as a couple. Posting this for posterity on my blog.

TL;DR

Not to accidentally validate any of these blorke claims by talking about them or giving them attention, but they’re so easily debunked by canon I can’t help myself... 

Garbage take #1

Echo is just following Bellamy, she doesn’t love him, he is her King, they have a spy/king dynamic (lmao this isn’t even a real thing like wtf does this mean? You can tell blorkes are pressed about the knight/princess racist trope their ship falls into but you can’t just make things up! What a sad, misguided attempt to create a false equivalence between bellarke and Becho. A spy/king dynamic is literally not a thing - and unsurprisingly, it doesn’t accurately represent the relationship between Bellamy and Echo at all - but nice try I guess), Echo is only looking for someone to follow and take orders from, etc. 

There’s so much to break down in this hot garbage take:

Before I get into absolutely destroying this hot garbage, let’s quickly address how the subtle framing of these “arguments” purposefully doesn’t acknowledge Bellamy’s feelings for Echo. Attempting to discredit Becho by designating Echo as a follower deliberately disregards Bellamy’s active role in his relationship and his feelings for her. Bellamy loves Echo and that’s clear throughout the show, but it’s wonderfully vocalized on screen multiple times in S5. Bellamy considers Echo his family (5x01 “we’re family and nothing can change that”) and it’s explicitly verbalized in 5x07 (”Our friends are there. People we love”) and once again in 5x12, from Clarke herself, when she told Echo “Bellamy loved you”. So, ya know, Bellamy loves Echo. That’s not debatable.

So first off, Echo’s relationship with Bellamy is not at all like her relationship to the Azgeda royal family (who she was in servitude of and essentially employed by). This is one of the worst takes I’ve ever seen and I’m not sure how anyone can logically come to that conclusion? (Which is mainly due to the fact that this claim is made in bad faith and isn’t actually based on logic or what we’ve seen in canon, but I digress). Not to mention Echo refers to Roan and Nia with honorifics and obviously does NOT do that with Bellamy, seriously wtf show are blorkes watching... Being loyal or devoted to someone does not mean the same thing for every relationship. Context matters. People can be loyal to each other for a variety or reasons, family/survival/clan/duty/temporary alliance/self-preservation/etc. Echo's never even hugged Roan, that already contextually makes her relationship with Bellamy very different from her relationship with Roan. Being devoted to someone because it's your job to protect the royal family (as a member of the Queen's guard and spy for the Ice Nation) is not the same as being devoted to someone because you are in love with them, in a romantic relationship with them, and want to keep them safe because they’re precious to you. Hello?? 

The other glaring inaccuracy with this garbage take is that Echo is not someone who just follows people or orders. That’s never been her character. She is a soldier, like Bellamy - but even when she was loyal to Azgeda she was never just a good little follower. She singlehandedly took control of Polis for Azgeda and commanded the entire Azgeda army in Roan’s absence. She doesn’t sit around waiting for people to give her orders or tell her what to do next. That’s simply contradictory to what we’ve actually been shown on the show. Mischaracterizing her as such is nothing more than a blorke ploy to minimize (and outright ignore) her strengths and agency as a character, intentionally erasing the fact that she is a brilliant strategist, skilled warrior, and a trusted political confidant. 

Also, did blorkes forget that she’s literally a goddamn spy?! Being a spy is not the job for a follower who can’t think for themselves and needs someone to take orders from. A spy is given a mission and it’s up to them alone to make it happen. There’s actually an enormous amount of freedom and trust given to a spy. No one gives you step-by-step instructions to achieve your goal. You are literally on your own, often in enemy territory, having to think on your feet, adapt, and come up with a plan to get the job done. Oops embarrassing they forgot she’s a spy (it’s laughable to watch S7 and think she would ever actually betray her friends. She. Is. A. Spy. Infiltration is her job - we even saw her successfully infiltrate Diyoza’s camp in S5 and Diyoza herself actually admits she “got played” by Echo - CMON. Loyalty is her defining characteristic. PAY ATTENTION)

Calling her a follower is such a gross mischaracterization. Just look at her relationship with Roan (her actual King). She constantly argues with him, gives him push back, and even insinuates that he’s weak (to his face) on more than one occasion (in 4x01 when she flat out tells him “we can’t afford for our people to think you’re weak” and he gets offended enough to call her out on it, and then again when she’s sparring with him in 4x02 and offers to take his place once she knocks him on his ass). She doesn't even follow orders all that well if we're being honest (bless her little panda heart). She's the one who tells Roan to "send me to Arkadia" when she thinks Skaikru isn't being honest. She's the one telling Roan, the king, what to do! Not only does he let her talk to him like that, he actually values what she has to say. 

Furthermore, the one time we see Roan actually give her a direct order (to bring Octavia back alive) Echo ends up NOT doing that (lol). She isn’t afraid to speak her mind or make her own decisions. One of her biggest character defining moments (that gets her banished from her clan) is when she decides to act of her own volition and go directly behind Roan’s back, to cheat in the conclave. No one ordered her to do that, it was all her. And there’s also all of the S7 Bardo Disciples plot which further proves that Echo isn’t just some mindless follower (cough cough Bellamy with the Shepard cough cough and Pike...). She’s always been her own person who thinks for herself and does what she believes is best for her people. (Even as far back as her introduction in S2 when she realizes Bellamy is Skaikru but still decides to trust and work with him in Mt. Weather. She also silences all those grounders in the cages with a single command and they ALL shut up and obey her, but sure yeah she’s just a follower 🙄🙄🙄)

So now that we’ve established how she interacts with Roan, let’s look at how she interacts with Bellamy. I’ve already detailed their attitude towards each other before they get together here, but now let’s look at how they act as a couple. 

In S5, we see in their first scene together that they are very affectionate towards one another (so much kissing, arm rubbing, smiling, and forehead touching) as they mutually comfort each other. Echo is apprehensive about things changing on the ground because of Octavia and the fact that she’s still banished, but Bellamy makes an effort to get her to smile (even going so far as to joke about her “almost killing” his sister and him being more stubborn than Octavia. He gets her to laugh with him and even exclaims “good!” once she finally relaxes and smiles). He also tells her “we’re family and nothing can change that” - very different from her relationship with Nia (who Echo bowed down to when in her presence) who used Echo as spy/weapon of war, and Roan, who cast her out after using her political knowhow to effectively lead. Then on the Eligius ship in 5x03 they get their battle couple on by working together and fighting side-by-side to take out the prisoner who woke up. Later in that same episode, they jointly come up with a plan to deal with the cryo-sleeping prisoners that isn’t just murdering them (ultimately utilizing Echo’s plan to use them as leverage since Bellamy doesn’t want to kill them and Echo knows that it’s a strategic mistake to leave their enemy with reinforcements if they can stop it). When they don’t agree on something, they always talk it through and compromise (a sign of a healthy and mature relationship, where both people are regarded as equals and their input is valued). 

Also, Echo was the one who came up with the plan to counter McCreary’s forces when he’d stolen Diyoza’s battle plans. Echo and Bellamy share a voiceover as they both relay the plan simultaneously to their separate groups. Once Bellamy finishes explaining, Octavia says to him “tell Echo I said well done”, giving Echo credit and acknowledging the fact that this is indeed Echo’s idea. Can someone kindly point me to where Echo is being a follower waiting patiently to be given her orders from her “King”?? Because as far as I can tell that never actually happens...

Side note, anyone else remember how blorkes were irate that Echo was the one leading Spacekru at the end of s5. They complained that it didn’t make sense for Echo to be in charge because “Raven was smarter” and Echo was being “so bossy”. Let’s just take a moment to acknowledge the contradictory nature of the arguments “Echo is so bossy and leading Spacekru” but also “she’s just a follower with a spy/king dynamic to Bellamy”. She can’t be both 🤣 stick to a story please. (Also, I LOVE Raven so this is in no way me shading Raven, she’s amazing and brilliant). Bonus: when the show runner is sick of your garbage takes and calls you out

To reiterate, the contradictory claims and clear disregard for facts and the truth of the show just further proves that their “complaints” are made entirely in bad faith. They are rejecting reality and demonstrate no comprehension of canon - their garbage takes should not hold any weight and are merely a form of lashing out because they’re upset their fanon ship never happened.

Getting back on topic...

So, S5 is where Becho are canonically established as a romantic relationship and the audience gets to see, for the first time, how they interact after 6 years in space and falling love. (Can I just point out that the entire purpose of a time jump is to have our characters change and be in emotionally new and different places - it’s a storytelling device to change the status quo and shake things up - it’s perfectly acceptable to have Becho get together during it given their history with one another. I address this in more detail later so we’ll put a pin in this for now)

Once they get down to the ground, Bellamy fights for Echo (both figuratively and literally) with Octavia and at every turn he doubles down on his love for Echo. To summarize, Echo won’t turn in the defectors and is willing to be banished for it, leaving Bellamy to stay in Polis with Octavia so he can still have a relationship with his sister. However, Bellamy won’t let Echo do that. He doesn’t want her to leave and he doesn’t want to be apart from her. He offers to defect with her! He would chose to give up his relationship with Octavia and Clarke (who he just found out was alive and reunited with) to be with Echo. Echo doesn’t like that plan because she doesn’t want Bellamy to be in harm’s way. She even tells him “we’ve been through this. You’re not going with me” to which he responds “like hell I’m not!” and she tells him “you are not dying for me”. Bellamy seems inconsolable at the thought of her leaving and can’t even look Echo in the eye when he’s telling her that he’ll be in the rover and it’ll only take him a few days to get to her, and once again Echo comforts and reassures him. 

While Echo is at Diyoza’s camp trying to take down the eye, Bellamy has been staring at the monitor nonstop for 8 hours waiting for any change or sign that Echo made it there safely. Harper has to come in and tell him "you've been staring at that all night" and to “go, get some sleep”, knowing that if left on his own he would emotionally exhaust himself worrying about Echo and her safety indefinitely. Bellamy responds that the eye should be down by now and even says that he "wishes it was me over there". (This line reminds me of when he took her place in Mt. Weather to get bled in the harvest chamber. He is always willing to put himself in her place if it means getting her out of danger - he loves her and would do whatever it takes to keep her out of harm’s way). 

Eventually Bellamy marches through the desert and carries Echo’s sword for her. He even sits by the fire and holds onto her sword because he can’t reach out and hold Echo (meanwhile Echo is being comforted by Emori that she’ll be together with Bellamy soon - I love a good yearning parallel!). When they reunite at the end of the season, they hug, grip each other tightly, and stay pressed together just being in each other’s embrace (again, this is NOT how she acted with Roan or Nia... this is a romantic relationship, and it's obviously played out on screen very differently. Echo never received a singe bit of comfort - physical or otherwise - from anyone in Azgeda). 

Before they get out of the rover after rescuing Octavia, the minute Echo and Bellamy are reunited, Bellamy reaches out for Echo's hand and holds it (a callback to earlier in the season when he was reaching out for and grabbing onto her sword in her absence). Then they battle-couple-it-up again and take out the gunners making it possible for Wonkru to march through the gorge. They are equals (and partners) on and off the battle field.

S5 ends with Bellamy staring at Echo in cryosleep, yearning for her once again. And in S6 right off the bat they compromise with each other to get things done. The planet is dangerous and Bellamy doesn’t want to take fighters but Echo counters that it might be a mistake not to bring their to best fighters (Echo vouches for Octavia here) and Bellamy doesn’t want Octavia to come so instead he agrees to wake up Miller - another compromise where they make decisions together and work as a team. In S6 we also see in real-time Echo opening up to Bellamy and trusting him enough to let him in to her traumatic past, strengthening their relationship (directly in front of the audience) as Bellamy promises “from now on, we look forward not back” and comforts her with a loving forehead touch and a kiss. 

Bellamy and Echo both come up with the plan to rescue Clarke from Josephine (Echo directly gives Bellamy the go ahead to “go save Clarke” while she stays back and saves the rest of their friends after they set off the EMP taking down the radiation shield). While Bellamy is in the forest, he expresses regret and worry for Echo explicitly two separate times (Bellamy asks Clarke “what about the people I left behind” and Clarke assures him his actions helped to keep Echo specifically (as well as Madi) safe. He has another separate conversation with Octavia about Echo where Octavia reassures him that “Echo’s strong” and “she’ll be okay”). Bellamy also gets more reassurance from Murphy, who informs him that “Echo is in trouble” but he’ll “do what [he] can for her”. He tries to console Bellamy because Bellamy is currently captured and can’t get to her to help. Once Bellamy returns from his mission in the forest, he sees Echo smiling right at him and he sprints into her arms, hugging her desperately and smiling into her shoulder with his eyes closed. Becho is a loving, healthy, mature relationship filled with trust and mutual respect, where both people are treated as equals.

So yeah, no follower spy king dynamic BS. Equal partners in love.

Garbage take #2 

Becho is toxic because he got mad at her and called her a spy, etc.

 Blorkes love to incorrectly imply that Bellamy’s little outburst in 6x04 at the party means that “Becho is toxic”. Well, if you actually watch the rest of the episode you’d see that there was a loving resolution to this “fight” 🙄

As Echo is walking away from Bellamy at the party, Bellamy instantly hangs his head in regret. He then immediately goes to find her and apologizes. He tells her “I’m a jerk. I was taking my feelings about Octavia out on you” and “I’m sorry”. Then we see Echo open up to him about her past and would you look at that! Their romantic relationship is being explicitly developed on screen! The trust! The love! The tears in Bellamy’s eyes as he listens (it hurts him just to hear what she’s been through)! The way he gets up on his bad leg (thanks Clarke) and goes to comfort her, kisses her head before he even sits down and tells her “Everything we’ve been through has brought us here. From now on, we look forward, not back”, fully committed to her and reaffirming that they’re in this together. Then Bellamy touches his forehead to Echo’s, but that’s not close enough so they kiss to be together. Their love is so palpable. 

Show me where this is toxic??? Because it’s not and you can’t just say things. Words have meaning. I don’t understand how anyone can deny that lovingly resolving a misunderstanding only strengthens Becho. Getting in disagreements/arguments is part of every relationship. Becho having one (one-sided) “fight” doesn’t make them toxic. Especially when Bellamy immediately goes to apologize, knows that what he did was wrong and wasn’t fair, and they talk about their feelings and work through it together. That’s like the exact opposite of being toxic.

It's fine not to ship them, but there's no need to be willfully obtuse about canon or what the show presents. Their romantic relationship is not toxic and is arguably the healthiest one on the show.

Garbage take #3

Becho’s development happened off screen, Becho has no development, etc.

In season 5 Bellamy and Echo are revealed to be in a romantic relationship. I’ve already addressed how the ‘no development’ claim is just a blatant lie, so I won’t repeat myself here (you can just read about it in my other post which was previously linked). But let’s talk about why this “argument” is also pretty garbage and is once again made in bad faith.

S5 is THE definitive Becho season (and it absolutely slaps). Blorkes couldn’t accept that Becho were a couple because they intentionally chose to ignore all of their previous development and then had the nerve to (falsely) claim that it all happened off screen. (Which is blatantly untrue, but even if it was true - quick reminder that “lack of development” doesn’t seem to be an issue for Marper - it’s just a problem for Becho 🙄 even though most of S4 was explicitly focused on developing Bellamy and Echo’s relationship while Harper and Monty had sex once and then were instantly a couple...hypocrites 🤷). It’s the flagrant refusal to accept what’s being shown on screen that bothers me. You don’t need to make up lies and spread asinine comments about the characters - you can just acknowledge that the show is going down a route you don’t personally like. You don’t need to twist yourselves into a pretzel to justify your preferred ship. Just be honest about what’s really upsetting you.

I’ll admit that it’s fair to say you wished we could have seen more of their development becoming explicitly romantic, but the ground work is absolutely there and to say there’s NO development and that it all happened off screen (ala Gina the walking plot device who didn’t exist as a character until she showed up as Bellamy’s gf for all of 5 mins before getting killed off) is just simply untrue. And while I’m addressing genuine criticism/complaints, it’s definitely frustrating that we never got to see any flashbacks of the Ring during S5 despite getting to see both Clarke and the Bunker during the 6 year jump. Thankfully, we did eventually get to see Becho’s first kiss flashback (swoon 🥰) in S7 but even without explicitly seeing Spacekru flashbacks during S5, all of Becho and Spacekru’s interactions throughout the season made it perfectly clear how much they all loved each other and were a family. The writing and character interactions easily convey to the audience Spacekru’s closeness and tightknit bond and it was a joy to watch. Because Octavia becomes Blodreina, you need to see at least some of how that happened, so we get bunker flashbacks. And Madi is an entirely new character, so we have to see how she met Clarke. But it’s actually not that big of a leap to get to romantic Becho since it was clearly set up (we also don’t see Memori break up, but again it’s not a big leap to understand why they would given the explanation we got), so Spacekru flashbacks aren’t actually necessary although they would have been greatly appreciated.

Garbage take #4

Bellamy doesn’t care about Echo and abandoned her for Clarke

This is somehow the narrative blorkes like to perpetuate about S6, but again this is completely factually incorrect. If what they are referring to is Bellamy going to get Josephine out of Clarke’s body while Echo stays back and looks after everyone else, it still makes no sense. There is no reading of the show in which this garbage claim has any basis. Bellamy would never willingly leave Echo behind (splitting up to take care of something they previously established they were going to do is not abandoning her 🙄x50).

Here’s what is actually happening in that scene: Echo is the one who tells Bellamy that she will stay and “keep the others safe”, and that he should “go save Clarke”. (keep in mind that saving Clarke actually isn’t the end goal of what they are trying to do here anyway. They are trying to get Josephine’s mind drive to use as leverage with Russell so that their people can have a place to live). Echo told him to go because the alarms were going off and they needed to get Josephine to Gabriel instead of waiting for Jackson to get to them and take out the mind drive. Context fucking matters. Blorkes just love to twist anything onscreen to fit their agenda and it just ends up making them look delusional.

As for “Bellamy not caring about Echo”, show me where????? S6 gave us one of their softest and sweetest scenes (as well as a fireside cuddle) that begs to differ. All of S5 begs to differ. Hell, all of S4 begs to differ too. In fact, the entire goddam show begs to differ. Bellamy “sprint into the arms of my girlfriend Echo” Blake begs to differ. This garbage take has no basis in canon. It’s once again just another bad faith claim by blorkes who are hardcore projecting. Because guess what? Not caring about the other person is exactly the way Clarke feels (or more accurately doesn’t) about Bellamy. Clarke left Bellamy to die in Polis in S5. Clarke physically slapped him in his face. This is canon. That’s THEIR ship, that’s not how Bellamy feels about Echo.

Blorkes like to say Becho don’t have any scenes together, but they’re really just so tilted that Echo gets her own plotlines every season, has relevance to the story, and actually isn’t solely defined by her relationship with Bellamy. She can’t be “just Bellamy’s girlfriend” while blorkes claim that “Becho doesn’t even have any scenes together“. Those are two contradictory statements guys... again, stick to a story please. So we have Schrödinger’s Echo, who is somehow both “just Bellamy’s girlfriend” and also “doesn’t have any scenes with him”. Give me a break. Neither of these statements are true and they’re honestly just dumb. It makes blorkes furious that Echo gets narrative focus each season, so they decide to twist that into “she and Bellamy don’t share any scenes”. But guess what? Queen gets both 👑. She can cuddle by the fire with her little spoon boyfriend and also spread the seeds of revolution while sniping at Russel with her bow and arrow during an execution to save her family and friends.  

Also to the people who think S6 was so good for bellarke

Why didn’t Bellamy actually realize that Clarke wasn’t Clarke. Josephine reveals herself to him, he didn’t figure it out 🥴 (Echo was able to piece it together though, so Clecho Endgame I guess)

At the naming day lantern thing, Clarke tells Bellamy that she “lost sight” of him (supposedly) being important to her. She tells him that he is her family too (which he doesn’t verbalize back oop) and she won’t forget it. How nice that that’s something Clarke COULD forget and that she said that to his face 🥴

Bellamy is oblivious that Josephine is impersonating Clarke, so much so that when he hears her say “chill out” to Gaia, he repeats back “chill out? Happiness looks good on you”. He can’t even tell that’s not Clarke and he actually thinks she looks happy 🥴

Why was Bellamy completely unfazed, not jealous at all, and totally cool with Clarke having sex with Cillian. He even says “I take it you had fun with the doctor?” and Josephine!Clarke says back “let’s just say it’ll be a while until he recovers” and Bellamy couldn’t care less that “Clarke” is talking to him about her sexcapades with other people. There’s no angst or jealousy or longing looks or sadness lsdjsdkf. He’s genuinely happy for her. Then he makes an “ugh TMI” face and turns away. As if the thought of Clarke having sex in general is uncomfortable. Great blarke content, much romance  🥴

When Josephine has control of Clarke’s body she flirts with Murphy (and not Bellamy... a huge L in the metastory)

When Josephine is in Clarke’s mind and has access to all of her innermost thoughts and feelings - there’s no mention of any hidden or repressed romantic feelings for Bellamy (but we do get Josephine taunting Clarke about an actual love interest - “it’s why you cry when you think of Lexa”). Where was all this good blarke content guys?? 😩

The crumbs were extra stale in S6 if you ask me... almost as if the story between Bellamy and Clarke is, in fact, not a romance  🥴 🥴 🥴

ANYWAY

Becho as a couple are emotionally supportive of one another, unshakably stable, communicative, open, and loving. They support each other, they fight for each other, and they absolutely cherish each other. Whoops looks like I accidently wrote a thesis paper (and I’m sure I still managed to leave a bunch of stuff out). Thankfully, the show is the show. And it will always be about canon romantic Becho. And blorkes can die mad about it while we rewatch and enjoy the show to our heart’s content 😊

#The 100 #Becho #Echo Kom Azgeda #Bellamy Blake #anti bellarke #Becho positivity #becho musings #this started out as just looking at Becho as a couple #but then I remembered some truly garbage takes that were so smelly #I had to eviscerate them #so please enjoy my now incoherent Becho ramblings #with some anti bellarke sentiment splashed in #I hope this makes some kind of sense #I had to get all this out for my own sanity #help this is so long and maybe a little bit all over the place #TLDR; all blorke criticisms of becho are just them projecting the worst parts of their ship they refuse to acknowledge #I'm so envious of new fans who never have to witness blorkes firsthand #I sincerely believe blorkes don't have a single brain cell between them #thanks for coming to my TED talk #grab a bagel on your way out

[soulmate-game]

Oneshot #2

What if Marinette had never won the Wayne Enterprises competition?

Well, her and Damian’s meeting would have probably went something like this.

—*—*—*—*—*

The asian-French hero looked down at her palm, where a plain silver ring sat at the center of the long silver chain around her neck. They had done it. Seven years, lots of reversed deaths, way too many close calls, and Adrien was in a wheelchair for the next few months at least. If he ever got back on his legs at all.

That wasn’t even brushing over the painful fact that he was now an orphan by all rights, his mother finally buried and his father rotting in prison. It was the epitome of a bittersweet victory, and Marinette couldn’t stand to stay in the same city as where it had happened anymore.

It wasn’t like she had a choice, anyway. Marinette was the Guardian now, and the fallout of the last fight led to her parents figuring out her identity. That couldn’t be allowed to stick, so she had asked Plagg to erase their memory of the discovery. She knew Plagg didn’t have the best restraint with his powers, but the effects would never wear off and could never be reversed.

Sure enough, they didn’t just forget that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was Ladybug. They forgot that Marinette Dupain-Cheng had ever been born.

So the Guardian, for she had held that title since her eighteenth birthday, gathered up all her belongings. She emptied her bedroom as if it had never held a child to begin with, sold everything she didn’t need and packed away what she did. She took the Miracle Box with her, of course. And Chat’s ring. He could wear it anymore anyway, and Marinette didn’t have anyone she could trust it to.

Kagami and Luka gave back their Miraculous, too. As did Chloè. They didn’t need to fight HawkMoth anymore, and they deserved normal lives now that the war was over. Marinette was not about to take from them the very thing she couldn’t have.

So she found herself in Gotham City, her hair cut into a long pixie in an attempt to change up her look. She didn’t need people recognizing her, especially since she had no intention of giving up her hero work. She set up a boutique, she already had more than enough of a clientele and solid reputation to keep her in business for at least a few years. She was twenty years old, and the world saw her as a rising star instead of the crashed meteor she felt like.

The Kwamis saw it. Every time they left the Box (and Marinette liked giving them all at least a day or two every week to stretch their legs, so to say), they would see her darkening bags under her eyes and the almost permanent slump to her shoulders. Her bed almost looked brand new even after several months in Gotham.

She closed her hand around the ring for a moment, before slipping it onto her right thumb. The now-familiar coursing energy of Destruction ran over her body like a current of electricity, promising a fatal shock at even the slightest mistake.

Good thing she was a manic perfectionist.

“Plagg, merge.”

The cat Kwami was sucked into the ring, dying it black and giving birth to the green paw on the flat top. Marinette’s already darkened and Gotham-ized Ladybug costume gaining a few spikes, a black leather jacket, her utility belt holding her yo-yo darkened into charcoal gray with green accents and a red-and-Black extendable bo staff. Instead of a domino mask, stylized black ski goggles covered her eyes, the magical glass tinting maroon in the right lighting. The tips of Marinette’s short hair dyed into a dark mossy green.

“Let’s show these Gotham villains that they can’t just toss us around,” she said to the empty air, as if promising to herself that her half-year absence from the hero scene hadn’t filled her skills at all.

(And it probably hadn’t, since she had kept up with her own training regiment during the hours she really should have been using to sleep, but she wouldn’t be Marinette if she didn’t doubt her own skills every now and then.)

With a soft whisper of “cataclysm,” she laid her hand on the metal door that had been slammed shut. It rusted and crumbled away into dust immediately. She wouldn’t let Scarecrow hold her charity gala hostage. Sure, it hadn’t been as extravagant as something thrown by the Waynes, but it was her first gala and had had a surprisingly large turnout. People had fallen in love with their new Gotham celebrity philanthropist.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t alone. Right then, the windows in the rented building shattered, allowing three very familiar masked men to drop in at the three other corners of the room. With Marinette, they made a full square of heroes surrounding the Gotham villain and his screaming hostages.

“Separate,” she whispered, her Plagg-induced accessories fading away to reveal her in just her Ladybug outfit. Her domino mask was replaced by a maroon and black-polka dotted motorcycle helmet with a rose-red visor covering the upper half of her face. She had on matching fitted cargo pants in the same pattern, and a long-sleeved black turtleneck with two large, hot rod red half-circles over both sides of her waist. Calf-High black combat boots with red soles and maroon stripes up the outer edges completed the new Ladybug look. Not including the ever-familiar yo-yo sitting on a thin red utility belt on her hips, anyway.

The three Gotham-native vigilantes observed everything, including the unfamiliar figure in red and black that seemed to be on their side, at least for now.

“Robin,” Batman spoke up. “Red Robin and I will engage Scarecrow. Get the hostages out and administer the antidote for the fear toxin. If we haven’t wrapped things up by the time you're done, come back here.”

The colorful vigilante let out a tsk at being left out of the combat, but knew he would be the fastest at evacuating the victims. They were all under fear toxin and several were having very violent reactions to it, so his no-nonsense approach would be the best match up with wrangling the civilians out of the building.

“I’ll help you,” an unfamiliar female voice crackled over their coms, making the three vigilantes stiffen. “Relax, my suit’s magic patched me in to your frequency. You can call me Ladybird. I won’t get in your way, but I’m not gonna just sit back and watch either.”

“If you slow me down, I’m hogtying you and leaving you for the Commissioner,” Robin warned, her gaze flashing over to the unfamiliar hero right as her ruby-red lips curled up into a secretive smirk.

“Fair enough.”

Batman and Rex Robin rushed into the fight then, seeing as Nightwing couldn’t distract Scarecrow forever. The blue vigilante used their sudden take over of the fight to turn his attention to Scarecrow’s rented goons, and knock guns out of hands.

Ladybird and Robin took over the rest. Working like a surprisingly well-oiled machine, they seemed to know exactly which victim to grab next to avoid getting in the other’s way. Robin noted that Ladybird seemed surprisingly well-versed in handling panicking victims that fought back, easily trapping their limbs to their bodies and carrying them out forcibly yet efficiently. She was also surprisingly quiet, whispering to the more coherent victims and doing her best to keep the evacuation as subtle as possible.

She was equally quick in administering the antidotes that Robin handed out to her, her hands clothed in black motorcycle gloves easily sliding the needles of the syringes into the right arteries without a second of hesitation.

Luckily, they hadn’t had to go back into the fight after getting all the victims rounded up and cured. Ladybird has just finished handing out shock blankets when Robin’s team filed out of the building with an unconscious Scarecrow held limply between them. A few statements and evacuated victims later, and the three met up with Ladybird in a nearby alley.

“Who are you, and why are you in Gotham?”

“Ladybird,” she said calmly, ignoring the beeping in her helmet. She had used her cure discreetly to reverse any physical damage the vigilantes and victims had taken, and hoped they wouldn’t notice until the next day. It had taken her a while to learn how to make the magical ladybugs invisible, but it was a useful skill. “I used to be Ladybug, back in Paris, but Paris doesn’t need heroes anymore. I came here for a new start, that’s it. I don’t plan to get in your way, but don’t expect me to stay out of it when bad things happen.”

“Oh, so we’re just supposed to accept a new vigilante with magic popping up and sticking their noses in our business, are we?” Robin challenged, stepping forward with hostility in every muscle of his body. Ladybird, to her credit, did not even flinch. In fact, even though she was over a foot shorter than Robin, she just straightened up to make the most of every inch of height she had. It was shockingly effective. She petit female could apparently make a very intimidating presence when she wanted to.

“I don’t plan on leaving, so you either play nice or get the nice beat into you,” she said with a falsely cheerful voice. A growl pulled itself from the back of Robin’s throat.

The rest of the BatFam watched with barely restrained tension. None of them were happy about a new, unknown vigilante in town, sure. But Robin was by far the last person they would have chosen to confront the new person.

“I’d like to see you try, shorty,” Robin purred menacingly, a sharp grin overtaking Ladybird’s mouth at the challenge.

“Gladly, little birdy,” She chimed right back. They lunged at the same moment, Ladybird’s hand gripping Robin’s bicep to try and throw him over her shoulder at the same moment that the man’s fist made contact with one of the large spots on her waist.

But before any real damage could be done, a flash of green light erupted around them, surrounding both heroes and separating them with business-like speed. They blinked at each other as they were forced to separate, wondering if Green Lantern had made a surprise visit to Gotham.

But that was not it, they realized, the green was much too dark a shade and proceeded to sink into the skin around their wrists. A mechanical voice sounded in the air.

“WARNING: GAME FOUL. ATTACKS BETWEEN SOULMATES OUTSIDE OF FRIENDLY SPAR ARE PROHIBITED.”

“What the hell—“

“INITIATING GAME START.”

Both heroes’ vision split in half, just as Marinette’s one-hour timer ran out and her transformation dissolved.

“Well. I’m Marinette, I guess. Your soulmate.”

She watched from two different perspectives as Robin’s eyes widened behind his mask and her own star-struck face contrasted starkly with her unaffected tone of voice. Apparently exhaustion saps the emotion from someone’s tone.

“Holy plot point, Batman.”

“I thought we agreed you would never say something like that again, Nightwing.”

—*—*—*—*—*

#mlb x dc #maribat #daminette

[some-lists]

Marvel Side Characters I Want to See More Of

Here’s a list of side characters I’d like to see more of in the MCU. These are characters that have mostly been in the background and have not gotten the screen time they deserve.

This does not include characters about to get their own Disney Plus series (no Bucky, Vision, etc.), because we will be seeing more of them.

10. Sif

Sif was a great side character and a strong female warrior. The Dark World hinted at a love triangle between her, Thor, and Jane Foster. Then she disappeared and was never heard of again. I don’t miss the potential love triangle, but she was a cool character back when the only other female fighter was Black Widow. It would be nice to know what became of her. Valkyrie ultimately replaced her, but who says we can only have one strong female warrior per movie? It’s a stupid rule and I think she needs a comeback in the MCU. (Personally, I would’ve preferred her for a female Thor instead of Jane Foster.)

9. Nakia

I didn’t want to include love interests on this list, but now due to the tragic death of Chadwick Boseman, we don’t know what will happen to Nakia. She was absent in Infinity War and Endgame, and I would’ve loved to see her fight in the big battle scenes. Will she appear in Black Panther 2? I hope they do not write her out along with T’Challa (assuming they don’t replace him with a new actor).

8. Bill Foster

Bill Foster is far more likable than Hank Pym, IMO. He’s a fellow genius and a good man, who is occasionally willing to do morally ambiguous things to help someone he cares about. It’s actually a great parallel to Ant-Man himself. Laurence Fishburne was a welcome addition to the Ant-Man cast. The fools at The Matrix didn’t ask him back, and I hope Marvel doesn’t make the same mistake. More Laurence Fishburne in everything, please.

7. Maria Hill

I seriously need to see more Maria Hill. She was great in The Avengers and The Winter Soldier, but we didn’t see her again until the end credits scene in Infinity War. That’s a huge gap! She never got a chance to show us what she’s got. Personally, I kinda wish they used her instead of Sharon Carter in Civil War (minus the weird kissing scene). She’s way cool, has played an important part in previous films, and I just felt more invested in her than Sharon. Now that Samuel L. Jackson has returned to the MCU after a long absence, I’d like to see Maria Hill return too. Not just a brief cameo here or there, but with a real job to do.

6. Ned

Ned is Peter Parker’s loyal best friend. Jacob Batalon and Tom Holland have great chemistry together, and he’s super funny. Ned’s in on Peter’s secret identity and it makes it even funnier when has he has to cover for him. His one line in Infinity War is hilarious. I want to see more goofy buddy moments between Ned and Peter in future movies.

5. The Grandmaster

The Grandmaster made his appearance in Thor: Ragnarok and I need to see more of him. Taika Waititi geniusly got Jeff Goldblum to essentially be himself, and it’s glorious. I don’t know if we’ll ever see him again, but he’s way too entertaining for just a one time appearance.

4. Luis

I mentioned before that Drax was the funniest character in the MCU, but I might have to take that back. There isn’t a moment with Luis that isn’t absolutely hilarious. He asked Hope for a suit in Ant-Man and the Wasp and I think he should get one. Someone get this man a suit. Promote him. Just more screen time for this awesome character, please. Honestly, I think it would’ve been great if he had rescued Scott Lang from the Quantum Realm instead of some dumb rat. Can you imagine the 5 year recap he would’ve given Scott? Talk about perfect for this pandemic. It would’ve been too good.

3. Mantis

I love Mantis. She’s such a unique and interesting character. She’s unlike anyone else in the MCU. She’s wonderfully weird, awkward, funny, and adorable. Her relationship with Drax is both hilarious and sweet. James Gunn has said he wants a Drax and Mantis Disney Plus series, and so do I. Those two are too interesting to toss aside. Especially since Mantis has only been in two films, there’s still so much room for her to grow. I’d like to see her awkwardly learn more about emotions and social interactions. Mostly, I’d like to see her feel her own emotions instead on feeling through another person. How would she handle her own feelings of sadness or anger? And how would her powers grow as well? Will she learn to use them more aggressively? There’s so much potential here.

2. Wong

Wong is seriously underrated. He has the same awesome sorcery powers as Dr. Strange. Unfortunately, he’s stuck in a stoic Asian monk stereotype. He’s been sidelined in every film so far, and he deserves better. With Wanda scheduled to star in Doctor Strange 2, I fear Wong will be sidelined yet again. Benedict Wong is an incredible actor capable of so much more than what he’s been given. If you need proof, check out his performance as Kublai Khan in Marco Polo on Netflix. This guy should have Emmys. He has great chemistry with Benedict Cumberbatch and is funny in his brief moments. I think Wong deserves the chance to be fleshed out as a character instead of being designated the token Asian sidekick.

1. M’Baku

Endgame left a lot of my questions about Wakanda post-Thanos’ snap unanswered. I wanted to know who took over while T’Challa was gone. We saw in Infinity War that both Okoye and M’Baku survived. I hoped it meant we’d be seeing more of them as they stepped up in his absence (perhaps that was the plan for Black Panther 2?). I was disappointed that neither had much of a presence in Endgame. M’Baku was a delightful surprise in Black Panther. He’s a formidable opponent to T’Challa, a powerful leader and warrior, but also crazy funny! I hope he has a much larger role in Black Panther 2.

Again, I don’t know what’s going to happen with that film now. It’s a sensitive subject at this time. I hope M’Baku will be utilized to preserve the traditions of Wakanda after whatever changes are made in that film. Especially since T’Challa was such an important, positive male figure for the black community, I hope M’Baku can rise up to fill that need as well.

#marvel #marvel mcu #marvel sidekicks #marvel side characters #lady sif #bill foster #maria hill #jacob batalon #jeff goldblum #ant man Luis #dr strange Wong #benedict wong #mantis #mbaku #nakia

[karamindia]

Unity In Diversity In India

Presentation

As we as a whole realize India is a nation of solidarity in variety. The mountain ranges, waterway flooded regions, waterways, and streams, woods, and desert all have embellished India with their extraordinary variety among individuals different races, ranks, ideologies, religions, and dialects each state and area has its uniqueness Worldwide neighborhood explorers or guests love this assortment tones, culture, and the environment, and so on Dance and music, bright celebrations and wonderfully crafted works a spell on the guests both Public and global. Seashores of Goa, backwaters of Kerala, and snow-clad heaps of Himachal, and sands, and pools of Rajasthan, world culture sights of Delhi, and so on are the image of the variety of our country. This vivid assortment of a nation makes our country a significant fascination of travelers that is advantageous for the Economy and thriving of the country.

Notwithstanding, large numbers of the distinctions in religions, customs, dialects, and societies have become so exceptional that they have expected hazardous extents for Public Solidarity and security. We do not just need to give the best offices and wellbeing to unfamiliar travelers yet additionally to keep up with tranquil and neighborly coextensive individuals having a place with various identities and societies. Without harmony, our variety is of no utilization. It is not an unexpected obligation of the public authority and individuals of India to keep the delightful variety of our country got in the card of solidarity unblemished.

Which means of solidarity in a variety

The term solidarity in variety identifies with the condition of fellowship or uprightness regardless of the presence of endless variety. Solidarity in variety depends on the idea where the individual has varieties in actual characteristics, skin tone, ranks, statement of faith, social and strict practices, and so on are not seen as a debate. Maybe, these distinctions are seen upon as assortments that work on the general public and the country overall.

In India, the public associations just can be the foundation of a solid, bound together, and prosperous Indian, typically in times of radicalism and illegal intimidation. Mahatma Gandhi forfeited his life for shared solidarity. However, there are various networks like Bengalis, Gujaratis, Punjabis, Maharashtrians, Tamilians, and so on the realities stay that regardless of divisions and contrasts, rank or statement of faith, we have lived respectively for millennia. However, there are contrasts between the Hindu and the Muslim people group concerning their societies, philosophy, and customs. They live respectively and have a profound regard for one another. The Hindus send good tidings to their Muslim companions at the hour of their Muslim celebrations like Eid, Muharram, and so on moreover, the Muslims likewise send wishes or good tidings to their Hindu companions at the hour of Hindu celebrations, for example, Diwali, Durga puja, and so on this portrays most of the solidarity among the Hindus and the Muslims in India.

On numerous subjects, they impact each other and are spurred by the goals of oriental human progress. India is a huge country. Various areas notice changes in the environment. The communication in the language of one state is very not quite the same as in different states. They wear various kinds of garments, they celebrate various celebrations and play different strict customs. Individuals having a place with various societies have a place with various strict convictions.

Beginning of solidarity in a variety

The term solidarity of variety means the solidarity between individuals with various social, strict beliefs, economic wellbeing, and other segment varieties. This articulation has its associations, since antiquated occasions, it is utilized by different political and social gatherings to show solidarity among the people or social orders. This is an antiquated articulation that was before utilized by certain social orders in North America and China, around 500 BC. Solidarity in India is the best model of solidarity in variety since individuals living with different religions and societies keep similar laws as set somewhere near the Constitution of India.

Significance of solidarity in a variety

Solidarity in variety is particularly significant for a nation for:

Public Combination

Solidarity in variety is exceptionally fundamental for a country since it is an extremely basic undertaking to partition individuals with various perspectives and thoughts. In case there is a solidarity between individuals in spite of their varieties and it is undeniably challenging to crumble the country. The solidarity among the residents of the nation assumes an extraordinary part in keeping up with harmony and thriving in the country.

Improvement and development

Solidarity in variety assumes a fundamental part in the development of the country on the grounds that the assembled nation will consistently continue on the way to improvement. It will confront some inward issues than a country that is socially feeble and conveyed on various terms.

Worldwide acknowledgment

A country that is various, yet at the same time it is joined together, joins worth to the country as well as appreciated on worldwide stages. It sets a model for all countries by featuring the qualities ​​and ethics of residents who regard and support each other notwithstanding their various foundations and societies.

Tranquil concurrence

Variety can likewise be the justification behind the beginning of inner questions however solidarity in variety assumes a major part in keeping up with serene conjunction with individuals with various societies and foundations.

The contrast between solidarity and variety

There is a feeling of fellowship and a mix of solidarity. Its soul holds individuals together and the bond that directs the way of uprightness.

Solidarity addresses the connection between the different gatherings that tie them all together. It can even be contended that the absence of qualification between individuals of various races is upheld by strict, semantic, or racial angles.

Conversely, variety alludes to something else. It is characterized on the grounds that the aggregate contrasts of different gatherings upheld religion, race or language and so forth It's a variety of classes and gatherings living in a few districts, with various societies, customs, and foundations.

Variety can be something that achieves alternate points of view, encounters, and acknowledgments among individuals. Solidarity can be a reality while variety can be a condition of division or variety. A family might have individuals with various perspectives, interests, or thoughts who express their disparities in many regards, however, as a family, they show the best approach to solidarity among themselves.

Benefits and bad marks of solidarity in a variety

Benefits

Solidarity in variety expands the resolve of people inside the work environment, association, and local area.

It assists with extending coordinated effort, connections, cooperations between individuals, along these lines further developing execution, nature of work, efficiency, and way of life.

This empowers correspondence to flourish much under the most difficult conditions.

Keep individuals eliminated from social ills and it assists with overseeing clashes all the more without any problem.

It advances solid human connections and secures the equivalent privileges, everything being equal.

Solidarity in variety gives a wellspring of the travel industry to India. Individuals from varying backgrounds, societies, religions, and attire are drawn to numerous guests and sightseers from everywhere in the world.

This, however particularly not the same as each other, brings about the act of public solidarity among the people groups of the world.

It reinforces and upgrades the rich legacy of the nation and besides as a social legacy of India.

It assists with filling the rural area with biodiversity just as monetary assumptions.

A wellspring of gifted and creating experts in different pieces of the country.

Bad marks

This can lead to numerous social strains among different states and individuals of etymological beginning.

It produces defilement and ignorance in numerous locales of the country.

Because of the lacking establishment, power insufficiency, streets, and so forth it very well may be the beginning of the helpless way of life in different peaceful regions.

Solidarity in variety in old India

Old Indian history is energizing on the grounds that many races and clans blended in early India. The pre-Aryans, the Indo-Aryans, the Greeks, the Scythians, the Hunas, the Turks, and numerous others made their homes in India. Each ethnic gathering gave its vermin to the advancement of the Indian social framework, workmanship, and engineering, language, and educated. This load of people groups and their social provisions mixed so indivisibly that they can be perceived in their unique structure.

An inconceivable element of old Indian culture has been the joining of social parts from the north to south, and the east to west. The Aryan components are evened out with the Vedic and Puranic culture of the north and pre-Aryan with the Dravidian and Tamil culture of the south.'

They represent thoughts, associations, merchandise, and settlements associated with peninsular and non-Vedic India. Moreover, numerous Pali and Sanskrit terms, inferring thoughts and associations, framed in the Gangetic fields, show up in the most punctual Tamil texts called the Sangam writing which is severely utilized for the period 300 BC-Promotion 600. The eastern region involved by the pre-Aryan clans made its commitment.

Individuals of these districts talked the Munda or Kolarian language. Various terms that infer that use of cotton, route, burrowing stick, and so forth, in the Indo-Aryan language have been followed to the Munda dialects by researchers. Despite the fact that there are numerous Munda hollows in Chhota Nagpur level, the remaining parts of Munda culture in the Indo-Aryan culture are genuinely impressive. Numerous Dravidian expressions are additionally to be situated in the Indo-Aryan dialects. It was held that adjustments of the phonetics and glossary of the Vedic dialects can be depicted as much dependent on the Dravidian significance as that of the Munda.

India on antiquated occasions has been a place where there are a few religions. Antiquated Indians saw the introduction of Brahmanism or Hinduism, Jainism, and Buddhism, yet this load of societies and religions mingled. Thusly, Indians communicate in different dialects, practice a few religions, and see different social traditions, they follow a few normal style

[cttrajan1206]

So maybe. While among us is booming rn. Cough, ill share a lil drabble i did, based on my games with my friends @dragonfruiteen and @justalexnoelle and @a-mega-sad-nerd

---

(note this took me two nights and Mercutio was present for the first one and you can Really Tell Because It Reads Better, Frui's pov was All Me And It Shows akbdf)

Eyes. It always seemed to be the eyes that opened the gateway to emotion. To empathy. Humans lacked such a key feature. If they did indeed have eyes, the windows to the soul, the mind of another creature, then it was clouded. Hidden behind a frosted blue screen that provided a concealing shade to any hint of emotion. It was with these "eyes" that they looked upon CT.

And what they saw, they turned blind to, the fog of their visors deceiving them and clouding up their vision. What they saw was a monster, a hideous creature with unnatural limbs and eyes. What CT saw was the same. Except there were more of them.

Shrieking desperately, their cry of fear was taken as a roar of hunger and these multi-chromed cloned monsters closed in. Their hands held no warmth, gone from their bodies and empty faces was any sign of a living sentient being with a conscience. If there ever were any there in the first place.

The experiments were horrible. Terrifying masks devoid of any tainted spots betrayed nothing on their facade of a frigid outer exterior as they conducted the tests. CT was trapped, alone and afraid. The electrocutions didn't aid their jitters, their tendrils quaking with fear each time they were forced upon the podium. No manner other than Man's could be so cruel. Unspeakable things to do with drills and lasers occured in that test lab. Things too horrid to repeat.

And yet. There was a shining light that burned brightly and illuminated the path ahead. Frui. Frui always treated CT as a friend, fir dark skin patterned with glowing cyan networks that ended with the plant sprouting atop fir head. No matter the amount of experiments that day, Frui and Teddy always made sure to visit CT secretly afterwards, often bringing treats. CT could speak to them, using phrases and words they knew well. Though the constant screaming left their voice hoarse and sore, they always made sure to give them in turn their thanks - a love shaped by finding a blooming bud of friendship in a stale place of loneliness.

But that didn't last long. Because all beauty is meant to never last and alas, theirs was meant to have its time cut short ever swifter.

It wasn't on purpose. Not the first time. A tired security guard must have miscalculated their reaction time and left the door open. CT stared. They'd always dreamed, too afraid to dare and grab a hold of a rope to save themself. And Frui was due to visit soon. But what caged bird would ignore its chance for freedom? So they rushed out, slithering across the floor and through the corridors. Not one map could help their journey and each path they tried twisted endlessly like a writhing snake. It seemed hopeless but no light could be without the darkness. Determined, they pushed on, discovering the useful utility of the vent systems. Just as they caught sight of the exit, down from their eye they spied Frui's plant. Goodbye. That was what they wanted to say one last time. Goodbye and Thank you for all the time Frui had spent with them, for being the light in their life and for being kinder than the others. Entering the room, they waved a tentacle friendlily, happy to see their friend

Frui immediately gave CT up to security.

Blank eyes. As cold and clouded as a dead fish's. CT knew every human must've had the same but they somehow had convinced themself that Frui must be different. That some empathy lay behind that voided screen for eyes. They had seen how tender and loving fe was with Teddy and fe had always treated them as a friend.

Now, however, CT realised that such affection was reserved only for other humans. A lowly monster like them couldn't ever truly be seen as a friend. As someone to trust and set free. As someone to treat as an equal. Only as something to be used. After all, if that hadn't been the case, and Frui felt they were a friend, why did fe turn them in?

The experiments became more and more frequent and painful after that day. Each hour was torturous, excruciatingly beating the seconds past as slowly as possible. Frui and Teddy tried to visit CT anyway but they wouldn't let the two humans in. Never again would their lonely heart even consider opening up to another ever again. Never.

The second time was no mere accident. This time, CT had planned, schemed and plotted it all out. This time, __they__ would be the betrayer.

A squadron of humans were to depart on a mission through the dropship to the basecamp Polus. CT knew this. They weren't to cone as the investigation was on the lava's seismic activity not their alien form.

But that didn't deter them.

Frui was on that ship. Defenceless and wide open. So after killing a local human with keys, CT set their plan into motion. Their suit was lime, a nice enough bright green colour,

And looking through the owner's stuff made for the discovery that fedoras were the Ultimate Hat. A little bit of practice was needed but they handled it quickly and efficiently. Soon, they donned their screened eyeless mask and waited. They were ready.

Was Frui?

<•∆•>

Last Frui checked, the lime suit belonged to one of the security guards. It seemed weird since fe didn't recall them being on the mission. When fe went over to say hi, fe got no answer. Instead, the suit fished out a notebook and wrote inside.

“Throat sore. Can't talk.”

Frui nodded, understanding, and gave them a thumbs up. The guard seemed to study them before scribbling down.

“I'm new here and don't know my way around, could you help me?”

Frui nodded and then whipped around.

"Alex! I got a parasite for you to take!"

The fedora nearly fell as they flinched, seemingly disturbed by the nickname. Frui quickly explained.

"Oh we just do that since Alex leads the mission. We say neb 'hosts' the assignment since neb's leader and we joke that we're all parasites seeking to take over the ship."

Fe laughed and the guard nodded solemnly. It was a little weird, a bit sus, but eh. Who was Frui to judge? Fe lead the guard to Alex and waved goodbye just before the dropship landed.

That was the last fe saw of neb.

It was slow and subtle at first. Frui hardly notices any suspicious going ons as fe did fir tasks faithfully. Sure, fe passed Nerd once and never saw him again but fe figured he was just doing tasks too. Teddy was always with fir too. They held hands the entire time and went everywhere together. They were inseparable, doing tasks alongside each other and never leaving each other's sight. It was nice, they were nearly both finished as they headed to the medbay to get scanned the halls moaned emptt, haunted with absence. Their footsteps echoed as they headed past the laboratory. Teddy was right by Frui. He was safe so fe was glad.

And then the lights died.

Frui couldn't see anything, it took fir eyes time to adjust to the dark. Teddy yelped and fe instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm, sliding down to his hand. It felt… thinner and slightly more squelchy than bone but in fir panic fe overlooked it.

"Come on Teddy, let's go!"

Running to fix the light, fe pulled Teddy along with fir. Fe got as far as outside before Teddy pulled away, yanking his hand out of fir grip. Confused, Frui half whispered in choked shock.

"Teddy-?"

There was no reply.

Fe was left there in the dark cold. Alone and afraid.

"Teddy??"

This wasn't like him. Teddy would never abandon fir.

"Teddy!"

Suddenly, fe felt a presence near fir. A hand on fir shoulder. Teddy. In the dark, fe couldnt see it but that reassuring squeeze had to be Teddy.

And then the lights flickered back on.

And fe saw there was no one there. Just a wispy trail of snow. Confused, scared and worried, Frui ran into the lab. Desperately searching for Teddy. Any sign of him. Nothing. No one. What happened?? Where did everyone go?? Why was fe… all alone. Think. Think think think. Frui thought and remembered that Teddy had a task in the office. As fe headed there, fe reassured faethself that Teddy would be there. The hope was slim and delusional but fe needed it. Sliding open the east entrance, fe walked towards the office. Eyes constantly shifting, fe scanned every inch of fir sight for Teddy, skimming every surface when a flashing light caught fir eye. Wandering closer, it became evident that it was the vitals monitor, keeping track of everyone. Frui didn't move close. Seeking answers from this had the chance of solidifying one of fir fears. Did fe dare? Yes. For Teddy. Slowly, fir sights focused on the monitor and fir heart dropped.

Dead. They were all dead. No signs of life showed for any of the crew members. Not even Teddy.

All that still flashed and thrummed with energy was Frui's heartbeat…

...And the lime guard's.

Stomach dropping in an instant, Frui stared at the monitor in horror. No. Nonono. Why? Why would they? Fe felt sick, barely restraining faethself from puking as the timeline matched up in fir head abd fe realised what had actually been going on. Fir crewmates were being murdered in cold blood and fe had had no idea.

A squelching sound of something crawling out of a hole alerted fir of someone else's presence. Hesitantly, fe turned around, already knowing what would face fir. After all, who else? There, standing casually against the wall, was Lime. They waved cheerfully. Frui bolted for the doors and heard an inhuman laugh as fe realised. The doors were locked.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The monitor beeped quickly, matching Frui's heartbeat. The lime suit stepped forward and in time to it, walking leisurely and yet quickening smoothly. In a flash, they had Frui backed to a wall unsure what to do, Frui was about to try pushing them away and running when… curiously… they began to unlatch their helmet. A hiss sounded as they slowly unscrewed it off, the fedora falling to the floor. Frui couldn't believe fir eyes. Staring back at fir, almost mournfully, was…

"CT…?!"

They nodded and reached forwards with a tentacle. Frui flinched. This made CT pause and anger flashed in their eyes. Suddenly, Frui felt a stabbing pain searing througg fir stomach. Blood dripped from CT's mouth as the serrated tongue slid back in. They seemed sad yet satisfied as Frui's body fell to the floor, limp. The last thing Frui saw was the monster walking away, uttering a single word with their hoarse throat.

"Goodbye."

<END>

#cttrajan #among us #among us fanfic #imposter #crewmate #drabbles #drabble #ink #ink is alex #nevan #nevan is nerd #frui #frui is frui #XD

[fallen029]

It’s been a bit. Here’s half of the new Elemental chapter (because no, I haven’t abandoned it). 

.

Erza Scarlet was known, among other things, for the many outfits she donned. From suits of armor to the most extravagant dresses, she was rarely seen in something out of fashion. Her style ranged from imposing to seductive in her younger years, but currently she seemed far more enamored with the less flashy. More sensible.

Her most recent armor update suited her just fine most days. While it wasn’t too flashy or expensive, it  had a formal look to it. Not all would see it, but whenever she caught her image in the mirror, she felt as if she’d finally once more transitioned into something else, transformed, perhaps, now into her final form.

She was the Master now. Of the most elite guild in the land. The one she’d been raised in and raised up to the level it now proclaimed. Fairy Tail belonged to her and while she still held her former placement in her heart, she was finding, as she approached a year of being Master, it meant far more.

There was, however, an unfortunate amount of busy work that she found herself stuck with at times, things that she would have never considered when first coming into power. She’d always seen Master Makarov or Laxus sitting around mostly, drinking or snoozing, but this usually took place because they were choosing to be derelict on their duties. In the former’s case, shirking them off on Mirajane and, in the latter, her daughter.

Master Erza didn’t wish to leave that sort of legacy. Memory. She hoped to always been seen busy and that meant taking care of paperwork, looking over the bar, and dealing in petty drama that most masters would balk at.

But this wasn’t to say that she didn’t rely, at least somewhat, on an assistant of her own. Marin was already well versed in most Master duties, as she’d more than walked her father through them for the past few years, and while Erza would never place so much on the teen’s shoulders, she did expect much of her protege.

Which is why it was harder than the swordswoman would have thought, to be without her for those few days. Marin was always up at the bar, as much a fixture as the wrought iron gates, and seemed to enjoy the tasks that her new master gave her. They’d become quite the pair as, in some ways, they both found themselves adjusting to their new lives.

Marin didn’t fully replace what Erza had lost, in Ravan and Kai, of course not. And she was certain she did little to ease the young woman’s thoughts in relation to her own strained family ties. But they’d formed something of a bond themselves, over the past few years, and there was some comfort that was gone now, without her being around.

It was silly, Erza knew, as she’d been the one to send Marin off on her very first job. Not to mention she’d only been gone for a day. But that second one, when she arrived at the bar with only Kinana there to open, she did find herself frowning a bit more than usual.

Still, she was sure, it was a good thing, Marin being gone. Of course it was. Pretty soon, she’d fall in love with the concept of adventure and using her magic to aid in this, and would hardly ever be around. She was certain the feeling would take hold of the teen. To have such power as Marin possessed, and to waste it away at the bar…

She was glad that she’d sent the girl away, off on her first real job, and yes she was now doing paperwork all alone, but it was just as well.

If Marin really did find herself tangled up in mage work, she’d be alone a lot more often.

She was seated in her office that morning, looking over some papers and considering things, when there was a sharp knock at the door. It was Kinana, calling out in a rather tense voice that Mirajane had arrived home from her trip and was inquiring about Marin.

It was something she’d prepared for, in the past few days. In her time keeping something of a mentorship over Marin, she’d known the teen’s parents to be...apprehensive over most things. While the two were quite accomplished, Mirajane and Laxus had seen how power could corrupt and usually sought to keep Marin far from it.

So Erza wasn’t expecting much of a warm response to her news. From either of them. And while tussling with Laxus was far from something she was looking forward to, she was also aware that the man seemed to avoid the hall like the plague in those days, mostly, and it was for the best.

His wife was always far easier to reason with.

Honestly though, the couple had been going through a lot the past year (if not the decade) and Erza was thankful, anyways, to see Mirajane seeming so upbeat, though perhaps a bit concerned. She’d arrived knowing that her daughter should have been around. For Kinana to require Erza to explain Marin’s absence, well…

“Mira,” her technical Master now, Erza, remarked as she came to stand before the woman at the bar. “How was your trip?”

“Good,” the other woman remarked slowly. “But Marin-”

“You look well,” Erza offered with a nod. “Well-rested. You know, since becoming Master I haven’t had a chance to travel myself, but-”

“Master,” Mirajane cut her off and the word felt odd, it had the entire year, as it fell off her tongue. There was a period in time where it was one she frequently found herself utilizing, in a rather endearing tone (usually), but that had died off under her husband’s reign. To now use it once more, in reference to someone who was once her rival/equal felt sacrilegious. “Where’s Marin?”

Rather than look off, Erza met the other woman’s eyes as she said simply, “In your absence, a simple task presented itself for her to assist in and, as a show of faith towards her recent prowess, I chose to send her off to complete it.”

Not exactly deflating, but at least being relieved a bit to find nothing had befallen her youngest, Mirajane questioned simply, “Is it something...difficult?”

“I wouldn’t think so, for her, no,” Erza replied carefully. “Just escorting a rather low level individual from one place to another. An Exceed.”

“O-Oh.” Mirajane let out a slight sigh of relief. “Just one of the Exceeds? Well, I wish she’d have waited until her father and I were home, but-”

“She’s groan now,” Erza offered simply. “There’s not much you can do.”

“No,” Mirajane agreed, “I suppose not.”

It should have been fine from there. Erza could go back to sorting through paperwork and Mirajane could take over worrying about when her daughter would return home, but unfortunately there was someone waiting back there for her. Someone who’d spent an equal amount of time anxiously awaiting a daughter’s return as he had shirking paperwork duty onto someone else.

“Marin coming by for lunch?” Laxus asked in what may have sounded disinterested, but Mira could tell from his tone that he was certainly optimistic. He was where she left him, unpacking their bags in their bedroom, but dropped what was in his arms ads he looked to his wife in anticipation.

They’d grown far closer, in recent times, he and his youngest. She’d always been distanced from him, in a way that his oldest, Haven, wasn’t. Marin was reserved and meek, which was hard to rectify in his eyes. His childhood had been tumultuous and difficult, making it hard for him to always connect with her.

But that had all changed that following summer, when all of the turmoil in their family had come to a head. Marin now saw him frequently, multiple times a week, just to visit, and he thought of these times as some of the best currently.

Marin had always been the baby of the family, both in the technical sense and how they treated her overall, and though she was now rather self-sufficient, Laxus was perhaps overindulging in all that he’d lost out on.

He wanted to be around her. To listen to her. To just see her. As often as he could now. Sober now. In the moment and aware. He’d lost so many years to feeling sorry for himself; he wanted all of the ones he had now.

Which is why when his wife tried to calm him, after failing to inform him of their daughter’s recent trip in a way that wouldn’t incite him, the man was far too agitated for her typical techniques. There was no amount of rubbing at his shoulders or speaking a hushed tone was going to bring him back down.

It had been a bit, since the slayer had been a frequent, haunting figure in Fairy Tail. A good decade of him drinking himself to death had preceded now and, while some of the newest of members only knew him as the defamed former master, all were sure to keep their thoughts to themselves when he came barreling into the hall that day.

Maybe it had been a long time coming.

For him and Erza.

He’d left the guild in her care until his return, but upon his return, had balked at reclaiming what was his. There had been an expected blow out and perhaps even a premature taking of sides, but that winter when the slayer showed his face, there wasn’t so much as a scuffle and the idea faded from most’s minds. If anything, as Laxus and Mirajane spent more time at home, their presence and factoring into daily guild life ceased to exist.

But everyone knew who he was and what it meant as the clouds darkened that late morning to the darkest of black and perhaps a bit of thunder could be heard, roaring in the distance as he threw open the guildhall doors.

Laxus was pissed.

In a way he hadn’t been since a year ago, when the hall looked a little different and was run even more so. His wife was hot on his tail, hissing at him now, in a way that she hadn’t either, in a year, and an uneasy hush fell over the bar as everyone feared they were the one that the veteran mage was looking for.

Everyone except for Ajax.

He’d been very busy bragging up some of his accomplishments to some of the slightly too old for him ladies in the guild, trying to win their favor, but as everyone’s gaze fell to the storming in slayer, he felt  a bubble in his chest.

“Uncle,” he called out as he rushed right over to where Laxus was cutting through the nearing noon crowd, coming to bounce in front of him. Even as he aged, the man was a brute, especially now that he’d begun a training regimen once more, and though Ajax could hold his own against the other teens, his uncle had no reason to stop for him. Other than the fact he was his only nephew, one of the very few people he could tolerate. “What’s up?”

Laxus wasn’t in the mood for the teen though and only shoved right passed Ajax, continuing on until he was at the bar.

“Erza,” he growled, loudly, and others were rising to their feet now, ready for the fabled battle between two titans of the guildhall, for the fate and future of the guild the prize.

The woman emerged with her head held high, not quaking in fear at the sight of the slayer’s dark eyes. In fact, she met them with her own, though not angry, still having that hard steel look to them.

“Laxus,” she greeted with a nod. “It’s rare to see you in the hall today. If there is something you wish to speak on-”

“You sent my daughter out on a job?”

“I was presented with someone who wished for the presence of a Dreyar on their job,” Erza replied simply. “You were out, your oldest daughter is gone, and Marin is the only one left baring the name.”

“Marin,” he retorted, “is a goddamn child who’s never been out on her own before. And yet you-”

“Laxus,” Mira cautioned. “You really shouldn’t-”

“Marin is an adult. In ever sense of the word.” Erza did let out a slight sigh then, though not necessarily one of understand. More of pity. “And she has been for quite some time.”

“You know what the fuck I mean,” Laxus said with a snort. “Don’t play dumb.”

“Then you do not do so either. No one knows Marin better than I.” Turning from him slightly, Erza looked up as she remarked, “Of course I would know when she was while

[wordfires]

Dostoevsky on Worship and Moral Stability

Throughout his novels, Fyodor Dostoevsky utilizes one or more characters as moral pillars to uphold the story and keep other central characters from sinking into the constant threat of moral depravity. This moral pillar becomes an object of worship, illustrating Dostoevsky’s idea that without a relationship of worship of some kind leading to or based in moral stability, man cannot maintain any sort of stability, mental or physical.

A relationship of worship is one not taken lightly, but it does not simply have to be religious in nature. To be in a relationship of worship, according to Dostoevsky, one must put the object of this worship above oneself, and the object must reciprocate in some form. In the religious sense of relationships of worship, this is shown through personal relationships with the Christian God. In relationships with people, these relationships of worship are shown through characters having similarities that allow them to relate to each other and crucial differences that allow them to worship each other. These relationships of worship help maintain the moral stability of people, which in turn maintains physical and emotional stability.  

One of Dostoevsky’s first major works, Notes From Underground, is an example of a failed relationship of worship, which will, as evidenced by the circumstances presented in Notes, result in unrestrained moral depravity. As the book opens, the unnamed narrator relays that he has been in isolation for 20 years— half of his 40-year life. However, this information, along with other things, is conveyed throughout the first part of the novel with a tone of sarcasm and spite. The narrator, often referred to as the Underground Man, constantly lies and then immediately recants, along with making a variety of negative claims about himself and society. This instability in making claims is a reflection of his moral instability, which is based in a failed relationship of worship revealed in the second part of the novel. Where the first part was a showing of character in the present, the second part is the tale of how the Underground Man came to live as he does; it is a retelling of the events that took place 20 years ago that made him decide to go into isolation. After a variety of wild escapades, the man finds himself in the company of a prostitute, although he does not know her occupation. Throughout the strange relationship they develop, he consistently treats her with cruelty, throwing her aside in favour of his own views and opinions. This leads to her leaving him quietly and with dignity, a stark contrast to the Underground Man’s depravity. His failure to recognize others in a state so self-centred is what causes his failure in a relationship of worship: he makes himself his pillar of stability, but his inherent immorality makes this impossible and thus causes his collapse.

In Crime and Punishment, for the majority of the novel the central character, Rodion Raskolnikov is driving himself further and further into madness with guilt and worry that plague him after his murder. He hallucinates, cannot sleep or hold regular conversation without becoming exhausted or infuriated, he does things without the thought that went into every one of his actions before the murder. He gets physically sick with emotional instability. All this time, he has no one in his life that means anything to him. Even his sister and mother lose meaning to him when they make a choice about his sister’s marriage that he disagrees with. It is only when he meets Sonechka, the moral pillar of the novel, that he is able to pull himself out of depravity. However, he is only able to form a relationship of worship with her due to their similar beginnings in the novel but crucial differences in how they used their foundations. Raskolnikov and Sonechka both began in Dostoevsky’s definition of immorality: Raskolnikov began with murder, Sonechka began as a prostitute. But where Raskolnikov’s murder was for selfish reasons, Sonechka worked to support her family, which consisted of her alcoholic and unemployed father, dying mother, and three young siblings. This marks Sonechka as moral rather than immoral due to her motivations. With the level of moral stability granted by Sonechka, Raskolnikov admits what he has done, relieving himself of the weight of denial, he begins to act truly human instead of monstrous, and he turns himself in to the police instead of squirrelling himself away in his apartment so as to not be caught. Even in jail, now with Sonechka, a figure described as angelic and pure, he maintains sanity and becomes religious, which shows enough stability to form another relationship of worship. Without Sonechka and her angelic presence to worship, Raskolnikov was drowning in despair and depravity, it was only when he began to worship that he began to breathe.

In The Brothers Karamazov, this idea only becomes more evident. In Alyosha and Mitya, there is worship in tandem with stability, and Fyodor and Ivan provide the stark contrast of instability. Alyosha worships his God and reveres the elder Zosima, which gives him the moral stability that allows him to act as the moral pillar of the novel. Before joining the monastery, Alyosha had floated around, moving to whatever suited his fancy, but upon joining the monastery, he gained stability. This stability born of worship allows him to stand stable and lend others stability when speaking to him, as he holds them out of depravity: even this reflects the act of confession involved in worship. Madame Khokhlakov confesses to him, Fyodor confesses to him, Mitya confesses to him, even his elder confesses to him, and even Ivan, who is without worship, confesses to him. This act of confession is part of every relationship Dostoevsky’s characters have with their respective moral pillars. 

Mitya in his own sense worships Gruschenka- she is his angel, his figure of worship. She holds him out of depravity even more so than Alyosha, even though Alyosha heard his confession, he was not the object of worship. When Mitya feels that his object of worship has abandoned him, he sinks into despair, and reaches his moral low point fully depraved, wishing to kill himself if he cannot have what he worships. And when he is reunited and reconciled with his object of worship, he no longer wishes to die, he wishes to live, another trend common in Dostoevsky’s characters in relation to the item of their worship. Mitya’s relationship of worship allows him to maintain a previously unseen level of honour and dignity even as he is convicted of a murder he did not commit.

 Fyodor, even though he is known to have the moral low of the book, worships as well— he worships money, which brings him happiness in that he can continue to be uncontrollable; however, the fact that money is not a moral pillar of any sort, nor a person, does not bring him any stability. Additionally, Fyodor would never have any stability from his worship simply due to its nature: Fyodor only worships that which is immoral, thusly he will never achieve moral stability. The moral instability this creates comes to a peak at his murder, illustrating that not only do moral figures bring others around them up, but immoral figures will bring those around them down.

Ivan, however, epitomizes Dostoevsky’s ideas of a relationship of worship through his complete lack of any sort of relationship. Ivan is unable to form relationships due to the way he sees himself: he only prides himself on his intelligence and builds the facade of his personality around it, but in reality he holds himself in incredibly low esteem. This gives him a split sense of self, unlike everyone else in the novel. This split sense leaves him unable to form anything other than surface relationships; in his eyes he cannot let anyone know how worthless he is, which keeps them at the surface, and he is not even worth worshipping them. This keeps him from even attempting to develop a relationship with the woman he loves, Katerina Ivanova, despite the fact that according to precedents set in Dostoevsky’s other novels, their similarities to each other could be foundations for a relationship of worship that could save them both. The only thing that keeps Ivan afloat in this incredible instability is his intellect and ability to reason. However, when this is shattered as it is revealed that he underestimated the servant Smerdyakov and was just as deceived as everyone else by his apparent weakness, Ivan is unable to cope. He has no relationships to fall back on, there is no one to hold him up. He uses the last of his strength to testify against Smerdyakov, but in his collapse he has fallen so ill he comes across as a madman, and no one believes him. This is the state we see him at during the end of the novel: so morally and mentally unstable he has fallen gravely ill with uncertain chances of recovery. While all other characters get a solid and clear ending, Ivan does not. His future reflects the instability of his past, and this complete lack of stability is what Dostoevsky warns against with the various relationships of worship he shows in his novels.

Ivan, with his complete lack of relationships and inability to accept himself, is left in the most explicit state of instability: sickness that is equally likely to end in life or death. Where Dostoevsky uses many of his characters to show the importance of having a relationship of worship, Ivan is an explicit statement of the dire consequences that an absence of a relationship of worship will have.

#wylan writes #essay #literature #fyodor dostoevsky #notes from underground #crime and punishment #the brothers karamazov #the underground man #rodion romanovich raskolnikov #alyosha #alexei fyodorovich karamazov #alexei karamazov #raskolnikov #mitya #dmitri fyodorovich #alexei fyodorovich #dmitri fyodorovich karamazov #dmitri karamazov #ivan fyodorovich #ivan karamazov #ivan fyodorovich karamazov #vanya #fyodor karamazov #gruschenka #writing #nonfiction

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thing with feathers, ch. 4

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn & Yú Zǐyuān, Jiāng Fēngmián & Yú Zǐyuān

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Yú Zǐyuān, Yínzhū, Jīnzhū, Lán Jǐngyí, Jiāng Fēngmián, Jiāng Yànlí, Lán Qǐrén, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Additional Tags: Transmigration, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst

Summary: Wei Ying is in a coma, but eventually...

Note: See end.

AO3 link

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

---------

A few days of “Cleansing” dissipated the resentful energy enough for Healer Lan to determine there was no damage to his brain physically beyond some swelling. Whether there was damage to his mind and spirit would not be answered until he woke.

QiRen ordered the continuation of “Cleansing” and the supplement of healing songs.

A routine was established. In the morning, he taught WangJi and XiChen their lessons in the infirmary, the former still refusing to leave Wei Ying’s side. WangJi had simply very quietly said “no,” and then stoically stayed silent until QiRen had given up. 

WangJi took lessons on the giqin in the afternoon, playing without imbuing the music with spiritual energy. XiChen practiced his xiao privately in the guest quarters the Jiangs had set up for them. QiRen meditated or practiced forms on the training ground, and sometimes discussed Wei Ying’s condition over tea with FengMian and occasionally Madam Yu.

The Jiang healer had taken young Jiang YanLi under his tutelage, teaching her to wet a sponge with broth or water and gently press it to Wei Ying’s lips, how to massage his throat if he didn’t swallow automatically, and even had her learning how to check his qi with her own.

Young Jiang WanYin was another story entirely, at turns sullen and angry that his brother had been hurt, but thoughtful in other ways. He had written an account of what he had seen happen on the training field when Wei Ying’s attack, as detailed as any report QiRen could expect from a ten year old, and then had bullied the other disciples who had been present into doing the same. 

From the sound of things, it hadn’t taken much bullying; it was clear to QiRen that despite having only been at Lotus Cove a year, Wei Ying was well-loved, something he had in common with his mother. Disciples often found excuses to pop into the infirmary, whether to deliver meals to WangJi or Jiang YanLi, or to just sit with him, telling him about training or their adventures in his absence. Even without WangJi’s constant presence, the boy would never have been alone.

But the days stretched into a week and then beyond, with Wei Ying showing no signs of waking. His sleep was calm and unbroken, his eyes occasionally moving under his eyelids. Otherwise he was still, his face slack.

The Jiang healer started to teach Jiang YanLi how to massage his muscles to prevent atrophy. He drew the line at letting her bathe him, but allowed her to wash his hair and comb it with a fragrant oil. She had styled it in a braid that would keep it out of the way, weaving a red ribbon between the sections of hair with the argument that he should still look presentable even in illness, that it was important he be cared for like this. She washed his face several times a day.

She spoke to him as she cared for him, telling him what the disciples were doing, how she was training to become a healer, what she was doing to further develop her golden core. 

QiRen found her dedication admirable and tasked himself with utilizing time in the afternoons giving her advice on meditation techniques and ways to channel her qi toward furthering her cultivation. He even recommended she try musical cultivation, perhaps the guzheng or konghou, both of which would be appropriate for a young lady of her station. 

He was quietly pleased when she began to call him “Lan-laoshi.”

Healer Lan reported that there were fragments of resentful energy deep in Wei Ying’s brain, and somehow “Cleansing” was having no further effect.

“The swelling has abated, and his golden core is strong for his age,” the healer commented. “When he wakes we can teach him techniques that will help him cleanse the rest.”

“How long until he wakes?”

QiRen was mildly surprised the question came from Yu ZiYuan, and that she sounded concerned. 

He tried not to listen to gossip, but in only the week they had been there he had learned she had harbored a deep enmity toward Wei Ying—rumors that the boy was the product of an affair between Sect Leader Jiang and CangSe SanRen had sparked the rage, and the perception of favoritism toward the boy, including his year-long quest to find him, had not helped.

And yet she had spent time at Wei Ying’s bedside, had helped her daughter feed him, had placed damp cloths on his forehead during his fever. Her concern for him was apparent. 

The reports from the disciples and young Jiang WanYin had revealed how terrifying the event had been, coming from nowhere. He could imagine the sight of the boy suffocated in resentful energy, bleeding from the mouth and nose, convulsing in the dirt… That would awaken parental instincts in anyone.

Healer Lan, sadly, had no answer real answer for her. “When he is ready,” was all he said. 

It was a diplomatic answer, QiRen recognized; the child might never wake. The effects of the resentful energy could keep him in a coma. 

In the middle of the third week, lessons for WangJi and XiChen were interrupted by a low groan from Wei Ying. QiRen barely had to glance at XiChen; he rushed from the room to alert the healers.

WangJi was hovering at Wei Ying’s side uncertainly by the time QiRen looked back. The child was curled in on himself clutching at his head. 

“Give him space, WangJi,” he said softly. 

The boy was training to be a cultivator, and if he remembered the attack could easily lash out in defense of himself. QiRen was relieved when his nephew obeyed.

The Jiang head healer rushed in and after a glance murmured instructions to an aide. He knelt at the bedside and carefully passed spiritual energy directly to Wei Ying’s forehead, likely to ease what had to be a terrible headache.

“This medicine will help with the pain,” he said softly when the aide returned with a bowl of medicine.

Wei Ying required help sitting, unsurprising after so much time unconscious and only the minimum food intake. His eyes were still clenched shut, and he drank from the bowl without complaint.

FengMian and ZiYuan were the next to arrive—QiRen could only assume XiChen had been tasked with fetching them—followed quickly by Healer Lan. XiChen kept to the doorway, peering in with the Jiang children.

“A-Ying,” FengMian murmured, “a-Ying.”

The boy’s eyes blinked open, and he stared around, his gray eyes looking blank and lost.

“A-Ying,” the sect leader repeated, almost as though he was on the verge of tears, like he was so relieved he was incapable of saying more.

“This one’s name is a-Ying, da-shu?” 

The query was hesitant, his voice soft, and the title by which he called FengMian was that which one would call a stranger. QiRen felt a dawning sense of horror.

Sect Leader Jiang seemed stunned, his relief dashed.

“Your name is Wei Ying, Wei WuXian,” the Jiang healer told the boy. “Do you remember?”

QiRen had not known the boy’s courtesy name before now, and he found himself wondering if it had been chosen by his parents, or by Jiang FengMian. Without envy. He could imagine CangSe SanRen choosing the name, could almost hear her ‘My child will want for nothing’ as an explanation for the name. ‘Why should he envy?’ He could imagine her laugh from so long ago.

She would not be laughing, were she alive now.

The boy eyed the healer for a moment in complete silence, his expression edging toward fear.

“No, daifu.”

There was a frozen element to the room, as though everyone was suddenly holding their breaths, the silence broken only by a spark from Zidian in response to Yu ZiYuan’s emotions. Somehow the boy understood that the Jiang healer was a doctor, knew the polite address, but did not know his own name.

Wei Ying looked around the room again, taking in the expressions, clearly picking up on the wrongness of not remembering, as though he did not know it himself.

The child burst into tears.

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

So basically, as explanation, since older!Wei WuXian can’t explain. The spell kind of went wrong, in that young Wei Ying’s body and mind were not strong enough to handle the transmigration. What he said during the “attack” in the first chapter is a hint. Wei WuXian did the only thing he could to try to minimize the damage, a last resort—he summoned resentful energy and used it to try to “seal” his memories. And it worked, but on all his memories.

#my fanfiction #the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #cql #mdzs #lan zhan #lan wangji #lan xichen #wei wuxian #wei ying #jiang yanli #lan qiren #yu ziyuan #jiang fengmian #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin

[keichanz]

Another Day in Hell || Ch. 5

this chapter is for @noanieactuallydrawingalot​. i still absolutely love that amazing art you drew for this story and i’m forever thankful and sooo glad you’re enjoying this story!!! <3 

also wanna give a shoutout to my girl @cammysansstuff​ because she’s been reading and supporting this story since day one and it means the world to me. <3

Read on AO3

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4 || Ch. 5

The following days were spent in a mixture of more random small talk, light banter – Inuyasha was quick to discover that Kagome was fucking feisty when riled up, and likewise Kagome learned the half-demon had a wit that nearly matched her own – and some light weapons maintenance training. Kagome sometimes went with Inuyasha when he had to leave for some reason or another, whether it be searching for supplies, killing some nuisance deadies (helpfully stabbing some that Inuyasha felled), or inspecting the store for any security breaches or evidence of any unknown presence. Most of the time, however, she stayed behind, letting her shoulder heal and doing her part to keep the space tidy.

Kagome was able to recognize the voices that came out of the radio whenever Inuyasha talked with one of his friends. Most of the time it was the ones called Slayer and Monk, though sometimes a voice that went by Cane came through. Those conversations were always interesting; it seemed that Inuyasha didn’t exactly get along with this Cane guy and they were constantly tossing insults at each other. Kagome suspected they were both purposely trying to piss the other off and while strange – and if she were being honest, somewhat childish – it was also highly amusing.

It was after a particular conversation between him and Monk in which they discussed a rogue and the issue of trusting them with a fawn (??) that Kagome had asked why had had given his real name when he met her and not his alias. Inuyasha had seemed surprised at first, but then he’d shrugged and simply said he’d needed to get her to trust him. Doubtful she would if he’d lied right off the bat and given her a false name.

She’d digested that in silence, though the smile on her face suggested she appreciated that he had, in fact, been true with her from the start.

It was getting easier to be alone now, for which she was grateful, and while she still felt some lingering anxiety whenever she paid too much attention to how long he’d been gone, it was easily manageable. To pass the time, she played cards with an old deck she’d found while sneakily nosing through the stuff Inuyasha had collected over the months. A lot of the time whenever he returned during one of her games, he’d sit down and join her and they’d have the rowdiest, loudest games of Bullshit ever.

It was tons of fun though despite it being just the two of them, and more often than not Kagome was left gasping for breath from laughing too hard.

It was the day before two of Inuyasha’s friends were supposed to show up to take over watching the store and Kagome was in the middle of a rather boring game of Solitaire when the radio crackled to life. So used to the silence of the basement during Inuyasha’s absences, she jumped in her seat with a startled gasp and snapped her gaze to stare at the device where it sat on the table in front of her.

“Ash, come in.”

She blinked. Slayer, she thought, recognizing the feminine voice. Kagome’s brow furrowed slightly; the woman had sounded slightly out of breath and a tad harried. Was everything okay?

“Ash, do you read?” Slayer’s voice came over again and Kagome detected a smidge of impatience.

She bit her lip and glanced at the ceiling door. Inuyasha had been gone for about forty-five minutes and was due back in another fifteen, however it was always unpredictable when his exact arrival would be.

“Dammit, Ash—” Slayer cut herself off with a grunt and Kagome’s frown deepened as she stared thoughtfully at the two-way. That hadn’t sounded very good at all... 

“Come back or so help me god I’ll feed all your precious ramen to the stupid zombies!”

Kagome’s eyebrows rose at the rather...unique threat and her lips twitched. Over the past few days she had also learned of Inuyasha’s fervent love – or maybe obsession was a more accurate term – for the noodles and had he been around to hear it she was fairly certain that particular threat would get his ass in gear. The man liked his ramen.

A few more seconds ticked by and the device remained silent. Kagome watched it for another five seconds before shrugging and going back to her game, figuring Slayer must have realized Inuyasha wasn’t around. Putting the five of hearts on top of the six of spades, Kagome idly wondered what had happened and hoped that it was nothing bad—

“Answer me right now, you goddamn prick!”

The shriek coming from the tiny speaker startled Kagome so badly she nearly fell out of her chair and with a gasp, she didn’t think as she reached over and snatched up the radio.

“Uh, er, h-hello?” Kagome spoke into the mic, wincing at how uncertain she sounded.

She received no response and she bit her lip before continuing a little more bravely, “Um, Slayer, right? I’m sorry, Ash isn’t around right now, but I can pass along a message if you’d like?”

She released the switch and waited anxiously, hoping the woman wouldn’t be mad that she’d answered and not the half-demon. A few seconds later the two-way crackled to life and Slayer’s voice, much more composed, came through.

“Hi,” she said amiably and Kagome relaxed. “You must be that woman Ash has told us about. Uh, yeah, I’m Slayer.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that...usually he picks up right away so I thought he was deliberately ignoring me. He’s done it before, usually when he’s in a mood.”

Kagome could practically hear the other woman’s eyes rolling and she couldn’t stifle the snicker that bubbled up. “I’ve only known him for a few days, but I know exactly what you mean.”

“I think we’ll get along just fine,” Slayer replied and Kagome could hear the smile in her voice. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to go. I did have a reason for contacting him and it’s kinda urgent, so could you please tell him to contact me when he gets back?”

“Of course,” Kagome returned without hesitation, frown back in place. She wanted to ask if everything was okay, but knew it wasn’t her place yet so she refrained. “He should be back in about ten minutes or so. I’ll let him know right away.”

“Thank you,” Slayer said, relief evident in her voice, but there was also an edge to it that was more than a little concerning. “It was nice meeting you...sorta.” A soft laugh floated from the speaker and Kagome echoed it.

“Ditto,” she said and the radio fell silent once more.

Worrying her bottom lip again, Kagome set the two-way on the table and sighed, staring down at the cards on the table. She’d scattered them slightly when she’d been startled from the radio suddenly coming to life so she started gathering them into a pile and stacking them back to replace into the ripped cardboard box.

She had just decided to get in a little PT for her shoulder when the ceiling hatch flipped open and Inuyasha dropped inside with a grunt. His shirt was bloody, which meant he’d had to utilize the sword at his hip – Tessaiga, if she recalled correctly – and Kagome hoped whatever he’d had to cut down was already dead.

She tipped him a smile and sat down on the bed. “Hi.”

He flicked her a glance, grunted, and promptly shed his shirt, unceremoniously dropping it to the floor before digging around for a clean one.

Kagome’s face flamed and though she told herself to look away, her eyes took in his muscled back with unveiled appreciation, catching a glimpse of his chest as he straightened to pull a t-shirt over his head. Hastily she looked away and desperately hoped he hadn’t caught her checking him out. Good lord, but the man was ripped.

“Um, Slayer needs to talk to you,” Kagome said. “She sounded a little weird, so I answered her back on the radio. She said it was urgent.”

Inuyasha frowned and picked up the two-way. “Weird, how?”

Kagome shook her head. “Like she was out of breath and, I don’t know...agitated?”

Nodding, not really liking the sound of that, Inuyasha depressed the switch and spoke into the mic, “Ash to Slayer, come in.”

Her reply was immediate. “Took your sweet time,” she quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “What happened? You said it was urgent.”

Never one to beat around the bush, Sango cut right to the chase. “Monk’s hurt,” she said and even Kagome could pick up on the concern in her voice. “We ran into a group of people that threatened to kill us if we didn’t hand over our weapons and supplies and Monk got a cut in his arm that I think needs stitches.”

“So why don’t you—”

“We ran out last week, Ash,” she cut him off, sounding impatient. “Remember? Because Cane is a fucking idiot and used the last of it so he didn’t bleed out after that stupid stunt he pulled?”

Inuyasha cursed because yeah, he remembered. “Fucking wolf,” he muttered.

“Besides,” Slayer continued, voice soft. “You’re the only one I trust to do it right. It’s Monk, Ash.”

Inuyasha closed his eyes and sighed, thrusting a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he rumbled, grimacing. “I know. Alright, fine, but Thing One and Two are gonna hafta—”

“They’re already on their way,” she interrupted and the relieved gratitude in her voice was unmistakable. “Left about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Copy. See you soon.”

“Back atcha.”

Inuyasha stared thoughtfully down at the two-way radio for a moment before shaking his head and placing it back on the dock to charge. Ginta and Hakkaku, otherwise known as Thing One and Thing Two, were the biggest scatterbrains he knew and often forgot to put it back on the dock to charge at the end of the night. At least now it would have a halfway decent charge before they carted it around everywhere.

“Looks like you’ll be meeting everyone a day early,” he said as he turned back around, one hand on his hip while the other racked through his hair. When all Kagome did was toss him a distracted smile before adopting her look of pensive concern again, Inuyasha frowned and then crossed his arms.

“What is it?” he asked. He’d gotten to know the young woman pretty well in the past few days and he could tell something was bothering her now.

Her eyes flashed to his at the question and she worried her bottom lip. He cocked a brow, wondering what it could possibly be to make her this hesitant, then she sighed and really, he should have expected what came out of her mouth next.

“Those people,” Kagome began quietly, her gaze searching his, but for what he didn’t know, “that...Slayer was talking about, who wanted their weapons. Did...were they...killed?”

Kagome didn’t fail to notice the way Inuyasha visibly tensed, and when all he did was clench his jaw and harden his stare, she had her answer.

“So,” Kagome said some twenty minutes later and tilted her head, giving him a sidelong glance as her lips twitched. “Thing One and Two?”

From where he stood by the edge of the shop’s roof, keeping a lookout for a huge black truck and straining his ears for the sound of a diesel engine, Inuyasha glanced to his right and studied the profile of the woman that stood beside him. His gaze met hers for an instant before she looked away, back toward the deadened land that surrounded them and the even deader figures that wandered it. A few of them dotted the landscape here and there, but not enough to be a concern, so they more or less went ignored.

Inuyasha’s brows dipped into a slight frown. He knew it was still bothering her. She tried to hide it behind vague smiles and forced laughter, but he could see the strain around her eyes, the way she unconsciously worried her lip and seemed to lose herself in thought. He didn’t like that she was so obviously troubled by this, and several times now he had to stop himself from reassuring her or spewing out complete bullshit just to see a genuine smile on her face again.

Because the fact of the matter was, anything he could say wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference because this was something she had to work out by herself. He knew she didn’t relish the thought of killing someone in cold blood – hell, he was willing to bet his ramen stash she was the type of person who caught insects in her house and released them back outside – but unfortunately, that was the way of the world now. You had to kill in order to survive and she was just going to have to accept that on her own terms, no matter how harsh it sounded.

Inuyasha knew she would. Kagome was strong; maybe not in body, but definitely in will and heart, and he was confident she would come around in time. And until that time finally came around, Inuyasha would be there to protect her and offer his assistance whenever necessary.

“You’ll understand when you meet them,” he finally answered, lifting a brow. “Otherwise they’re known as Smokey and Bandit.”

Kagome actually did a double take at that and her mouth dropped slightly.

“Yeah,” Inuyasha muttered, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “I know. And yes, it was deliberate. I swear to God they’re joined at the hip. Not once in the entire time I’ve known them have I ever seen them apart. Also they’re bona fide idiots.”

“Don’t be rude.”

He shrugged, unapologetic. “You’ll see,” he said and the distant rumble of a diesel engine had him turning his gaze back to the road.

Not ten seconds later he spotted the familiar black dually weaving between the abandoned vehicles on the road, the twin silver stacks rising up on either side of the cab clearly visible. The truck was lifted and altogether a motherfucking powerhouse and Inuyasha loved the thing. His own vehicle had been stolen long ago when everything started but it wasn’t a huge loss; the sedan had been on its last legs anyway and he wasn’t sorry to see it go.

This monster, however, Inuyasha had pretty much claimed as his own, everybody knew it, and he’s not going to lie: he was going be fucking devastated if something happened to it. He considered it a bonus that it was a zombie killing machine and hell yeah it was fun mowing them down with the modified grill he’d fashioned himself. Reminiscent of a pilot that was usually found on trains, the heavy steel frame easily cleared anything in front of it and it was arguably the best idea he’d ever had.

While Inuyasha raised a hand and waved, gesturing for them to drive around back to the loading dock, Kagome came up beside him and gawked at the six-wheeled monstrosity.

Inuyasha caught the look on her face and grinned proudly.

“Beauty, ain’t she?” he boasted and watched as Hakkaku, in the passenger’s seat, threw him a thumbs up as Ginta turned the wheel to go around back.

“It’s huge,” Kagome mumbled, frowning. “Is it yours?”

“More or less,” he answered and gently took her elbow to guide her to the other side of the roof. “I found it shortly after my own car was stolen, cleaned it up, made it better, so as far as I’m considered it’s mine now. Doesn’t hurt that it’s a beast and a definite upgrade from what I had before.”

The two wolves were just backing up to the loading dock and hooking an arm around Kagome’s waist, Inuyasha murmured a word of warning before hopping down to the ground. Predictably the roar of the diesel truck had attracted a number of deadies and Inuyasha told her to stay put before unsheathing Tessaiga and getting to work.

And as always, Kagome watched in awe as the half-demon darted from zombie to zombie and she couldn’t help but think that he was truly a sight to behold as he swung that huge sword of his around. Bodies fell at an alarming rate and there wasn’t a hitch in his stride, zero hesitation as he cut down the undead with a practiced ease that was almost frightening.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t he?” a voice said to her right and Kagome managed to tear her gaze away from the half-demon to find one of the inhabitants of the truck standing beside her, his gray eyes friendly.

“Don’t tell anybody, but I’ve always thought Ash can give Cane a run for his money any day,” the wolf demon said with a mischievous grin and Kagome blinked in surprise.

“Don’t let either of them hear you say that, or you’ll never hear the end of it!” another voice piped up and Kagome shifted her gaze to find wolf demon number two standing in the bed of the truck. The first thing she noticed about him was his blonde mohawk tipped with red and she thought the look suited him.

The one beside her, a tad shorter than she was with hair the same shade as his eyes and streaked with black, snickered and offered her another wide grin.

“Nah, he’s too busy showing off to hear,” he chortled and Kagome had to smile. “And Iris was bitching out Cane again when we left so doubtful he’d even care if he knew.”

“His face was so red!” Mohawk crowed as he hoped down from the bed and landed beside Gray Eyes.

“But from anger or shame, it was hard to tell!”

While the two men laughed at the expense of Cane, Kagome stood there staring between the two of them with a bewildered look on her face, not sure exactly what to say and wondering if they even remembered she was standing there. She suddenly understood why Inuyasha called them Thing One and Two.

And as if on cue, said half-demon sauntered over and barked, “Would you idiots knock it off and introduce yourselves already? Fuck’s sake, how that wolfshit puts up with you two I have no idea,” he muttered as he bypassed them and entered the backdoor to open the bay in order to load the truck.

As one the two wolf demons looked at each other, blinked, then broke into wide grins before abruptly spinning around to face her so fast Kagome took an involuntary step back.

“Our apologies, miss!” they said simultaneously and Kagome could do nothing but stand there and gape as together they took the same stance, legs akimbo with thumbs pointing at their chests, and plastered on matching, toothy grins.

“I’m Smokey, I have dimples!” the gray haired one said proudly.

“And I’m Bandit, the shrewd one!” Mohawk declared, then to Kagome’s utter bewilderment, they performed an odd sort of synchronized dance with fake fighting that reminded Kagome of a bad action film. They concluded it by striking what they probably assumed were power poses but in reality made them look ridiculous.

Well, more ridiculous.

“And together, we’re Smokey and the Bandit!” they chorused and it was glaringly obvious they thought they’re little show was original and awe inspiring.

So of course Kagome, after getting over her shock, smiled brightly and clapped as they blushed and bowed.

“I have to admit,” she started, a teasing note to her voice, “I was a bit disappointed when you didn’t roll up in a black Trans Am, but that definitely made up for it.”

The duo stared at her for a beat of silence before abruptly losing their shit, jumping up and down, talking loudly over one another and basically just acting like rabid fangirls over the fact that Kagome understood the reference and where they’d gotten the names from. She stood there with a bemused smile on her face and inconspicuously inched toward the door where Inuyasha disappeared.

The truck bay door suddenly slid open, revealing Inuyasha in all of his scowling glory as he glared at the two idiots.

“You both need to shut the hell up before you attract every goddamn roamer within a mile radius and I have to explain to Cane why you morons became zombie food while I stood by and watched. Now quit wasting time, make yourself useful and help me load the truck or so help me...”

He let the threat trail off with one last glower before turning and disappearing further into the backroom to gather supplies to take back to the dojo. Bandit grimaced and muttered an apology to Kagome before scampering after him while Smokey chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, sorry,” Smokey apologized with a sheepish smile. “It’s not often we meet people who share our love for classic films. Heh.”

Kagome giggled and waved off his apology. “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s a good movie and one of my favorites. I have to ask, though, you do realize—”

“Smokey, get your ass over here before I barbecue it in molasses!” Inuyasha bellowed and Kagome snorted a laugh.

The wolf demon scrambled to obey, tossing Kagome one last smile before scurrying over and taking the box of canned food from Inuyasha’s arms to hand to Hakkaku, making a train.

About half an hour later the truck was loaded up, Ginta and Hakkaku were standing in front of the open bay door and waving them off as Inuyasha and Kagome drove off in the monster of a truck. Inuyasha had had to lift her up into it since her arm was still healing and she couldn’t heave herself up but he hadn’t seemed to mind and in fact did it before she’d even asked.

Leaning out the open window and smiling back at her new friends Smokey and Bandit, Kagome waved one last time then leaned back in her seat with a sigh. They were definitely interesting characters and meeting them made her wonder what his other friends were like. She was especially eager to meet Slayer; it’d be nice to have a girlfriend to chat with again and maybe she’d be able to get some more information about Inuyasha from her.

“I like them,” she announced, reaching up to grasp the handle above her head as they bumped over rough terrain and ran over debris that couldn’t be avoided. “Now I know why you call them Thing One and Two.”

She giggled as Inuyasha snorted, but the grin on his face told of his amusement.

“Told you,” he said and hit the button to put up Kagome’s window. Some of the roamers were a little too close for comfort and he didn’t want one of them reaching in.

“I do have to wonder, though...” Kagome suddenly said and Inuyasha flicked her a brief glance before looking forward again.

“What?” he rumbled, managing to squeeze the massive truck into an alley that led back to the main road. A few roamers were standing around in it, but the mounted pilot took care of them, effortlessly plowing them down and clearing the way.

Kagome tilted her head and tipped him a smile, brown eyes flashing impishly.

“They do realize that Snowman was Bandit’s partner, and not Smokey the Sheriff?”

Inuyasha couldn’t stop the grin from spreading and he barked out a laugh.

“What we’re dealing with here,” he replied, shooting her a smirk as amber eyes glinted wickedly, “is a complete lack of respect for the law.”

Kagome threw her head back and laughed.

Ch. 6

a nod to one of my all-time favorite movies, Smokey and the Bandit. also that last line that Inuyasha says is a quote from the movie. Sheriff Buford T Justice, otherwise known as Smokey, says it to his (very dimwitted) son.

buy me a coffee? C:

#another day in hell #ch 5 #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #keizfanfiction #fanfiction #zombie apocolypse au

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cursed G Pt 27 (Gilgamesh, Enkidu, Siduri)

Previous Part: 1 - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26

_____

The apsu were quick, quicker than usual with their speeds.

Yet still, as Gilgamesh tucked the bathed woman into his bed and glanced at the group entering his chambers, he found them to be lacking. They were too slow. They were too useless.

“My king,” Siduri pulled him away from the bed.

“I want her breathing smoothly by the time I return,” he demanded of the group. His eyes turned to Enkidu, “Stay with them and ensure that she remains alive and breathing.”

“You know I want to take care of her too,” Enkidu replied.

They should have, but they had both failed to realize that Ishtar would sink to such levels. The defecation room. Of all the places to attack someone, to sink to that kind of level and attack someone when they were relieving themselves was without a doubt the worst kind of coward.

He could feel his temper like a fire, flaring higher and higher towards the heavens. The woman at his side was remaining quiet, leading him as she was supposed to through the palace. He could see his people murmuring and hurrying to clean and do their work. The maidens of the palace were moving to greet him, being waved off.

“I want a selection of fabrics,” he informed the group. “You will all become maidens to my woman.”

They nodded, obedient as ever.

“She is this tall,” he told them, motioning to about his chest. “Brown hair, brown eyes. It gleams with bits of gold in the light. She’s small, but she has an abundant chest. Keep that in mind when you have the seamstresses called forth to the palace.”

Siduri waited, listening.

“She will awaken disoriented and her language skills for our kingdom have a hint of her mother tongue in it, but she will understand you.”

The women dispersed.

Still, Siduri remained, bowing.

“Shall we?”

“Where are we at with the preparations for me claiming Hakuno?”

“I ah…” Siduri scratched at her head a bit. “We’ve run into a problem.”

“Fix it.”

The woman spluttered. “It’s not that simple! We don’t know this woman’s background. The people don’t know who she is or where she’s from or even what she looks like! The advisors are panicking. You were gone for months, King Gilgamesh!”

“And I am back.”

“Ishtar claimed that you were dead!”

He would take care of that problem in due time too, but her words were a problem.

Gilgamesh paused in his office, looking at all the tablets that lined his desk and the walls. Countless cups on the desk said that someone had been pulling all nighters, attempting to make sense of the chaos that looked to be rampant in this room. There were soiled cloths in a bin beside the desk. The basin of water in the corner had a cloth tinged in blood.

“…Have you slept, Siduri?”

The woman froze.

“I asked if you had slept.” Gilgamesh glanced over, noting the heavy bags under her eyes and the faint traces of where she’d wiped under her nose to stop a nose bleed.

Siduri had been managing the kingdom in Enkidu and his absence.

“You need to rest.”

“My king-“

He turned her around, steering her towards his own chambers. The servants that passed were barked at for the apsu bedding. He himself grabbed blankets from a passerby bringing in fresh linen, refusing to hear anything out of the fool he was steering back to his chambers.

Siduri clambered, she begged; and, naturally, he wouldn’t hear of it. As the apsu treated Hakuno, he settled the foolish woman into a corner of his room and tucked her in.

“Rest.”

“I can’t! There’s too much to do!”

She wasn’t a good listener, was she?

“My king-“

“Would you rather rest beside Hakuno?” Gilgamseh asked, watching the woman begin to panic further. “I can have the apsu put you to sleep if that is what it takes. Enkidu and I will send them in regularly to ensure that you rest until such a time that you’re not on the brink of visiting Ereshkigal. You’ll sleep so deeply that not even the gods could awaken you, should they bother to try.”

“…I would not impose on your bed, my king.”

But she wouldn’t mind it.

Gilgamesh laughed, pulling the woman up into his arms and walking over to the bed. He tucked her in, just as he had done before and just as he had done with Hakuno. His poor attendant, flustered and burning away into nothingness out of her own embarrassment.

He would allow this.

She had done well in watching over the kingdom, from what he’d seen. There were no people stressing about the fact that he had been gone. It didn’t seem that anyone was second guessing his presence in the palace.

By her own admission, his advisors were worried, but he would quell them soon enough.

“Allow Siduri to rest once done with Hakuno,” he informed the apsu, watching the men divide and tend to the attendant now.

“Should I stay with them?” Enkidu asked.

“I need you with me.”

The apsu were bowing themselves out, thanking him for calling upon them for this opportunity. He could feel the two resting well now.

“What was wrong with Hakuno?”

“It was a magic block, in several places,” one of the apsu informed him. “Whomever got to her, managed to stop her mana and her blood from flowing freely. Had you not acted as quickly as you did, my king, you would not have her alive at this point, not with all limbs.”

One of the men faltered, shaking his head at the women in his bed.

“The woman’s mana was difficult to free. She may experience pain if she is a magic user. She will need to utilize her abilities once she has awakened. We’ll see what damage lingers.”

Lingers.

Gilgamesh waved the fool off before he bothered him further.

Hakuno wouldn’t have lingering pain.

The woman had saved his life. In return, he had been forced to do the same because of a problem he held. That was not a suitable return of favor.

“Enkidu-“

He paused, glancing back to find the being snuggling in between the two women and pulling them into their arms. The shit-eating grin had him chuckling.

“Are you planning to watch over them then?”

“It was the original plan, wasn’t it?”

“How are you going to protect them when you are half under them?”

The being snuggled both women closer, pressing their lips to Siduri’s forehead. “I’ll growl.”

The being didn’t know how to growl. They knew simply how to roar. Still, the being’s decision set him at ease. He nodded, turning away.

“There’s a fair amount of work to be done, I will have to see to it.”

He would leave the guarding to Enkidu.

Meanwhile, for him, he had a palace to attend to. The guards bowed at the entrance to his audience chamber. His advisors fell to their knees upon the site of him. Without fail, he found that the world he had been torn so viciously from had not forgotten him.

In fact, it had missed him sorely.

He dragged the advisors to the offices, assigning them piles and threatening punishment for being bothered with anything less than dire circumstances.

Gilgamesh then perched himself upon his desk, listening to the men murmur to one another and eyeing the piles that sat upon his desk.

Siduri had great organization. To a point, the most important documents always found their way to his desk and his desk alone. Eyeing the pile, he could already see the proposals, the requests for his attendance at festivals and traditional rituals. He had no doubt he would be turning kingdoms away since he had Hakuno as well.

Perhaps in a few days, he could open the pathway back to her time and allow for them to go through with the plan for the two of them.

Perhaps, but he had concerns in that regard.

The spells they had done had been directed towards Uruk, not back.

Even if Hakuno wanted to return, it would be almost impossible without great knowledge of her time. And, even then, they had no idea how the time would work. They could end up arriving before he had ever gone to Fuyuki. They could end up arriving after all of her friends were dead.

That kind of thing didn’t matter right now though.

Gilgamesh turned his attention to the top tablet, beginning to work.

The temple of Ishtar was demanding his presence a lot, it seemed.

The fools must have been informed that he was gone. Several correspondences demanded for his presence to be seen, to which Siduri had done a wonderful job imitating his indifference. Time and time again, she pointed out the futility of the traditions and the practices, citing words he had no doubt used at some point.

There were other tablets too, beseeching the temple of Ninsun to counter the other temples from interfering. His mother must have become involved in covering up his absence.

A pause at one tablet showed interest in the Ishtar priests visiting him.

Gilgamesh snapped his fingers for one of the advisors.

“Put up a divinity barrier around the palace.”

“My king?”

“Against Ishtar’s divinity, to be precise.”

The man fled, offered salvation from his paperwork.

More tablets, now on proposals, were now on his desk.

The kingdom of Ur had a young girl coming of age that would need to become accustomed to a man’s body. The kingdom of Nippur had triplets.

One look at their age had him tossing the tablet towards the window.

Bodies that young were useless for anything more than learning and partaking in selfish purpose. He had no need to be taking something younger than the number of months he had been with Hakuno.

Sunlight drifted from his office chambers as the tablets were trickling from the room. The servants of the palace were arriving now, their robes flourishing around them as they raised their hands to the wall mounts and illuminated space after space in their room. The flames flickered nicely, crackling a little as Gilgamesh paused from his work.

The food came.

He went back to work quickly after.

King.

It’s the king!

Lion king.

Gilgamesh paused from his work, frowning as he saw the beasts prowling into the room. The last of the tablets were vanishing, leaving him with the final few that the advisors had whittled the work down to. He could see the lions climbing onto his lap, nuzzling at his face and purring incessantly.

“It would seem you all know of my return.”

He listened to the purring, hearing the low murmur of voices beneath.

King.

King’s back.

Welcome back.

Room smells of female.

So the cure was not perfect for him, he guessed.

The advisors had gone. There were no guards outside his door. What’s more, the voices, far too close and intimate for anyone outside the room to fake, were no doubt from his beasts.

Ishtar had turned him into a cat.

It seems he had retained some senses from them.

Naturally, such a thing would actually be useful to him. He could keep tabs on the people in the palace due to these felines. What’s more, if they understood him, he could send them on tasks.

“Did you all see my woman?” He brushed back some manes, listening to the group grow louder in their pleasure. “She will be requiring your protections in the upcoming years. She is going to remain my female.”

The noisy bunch purred back to him.

King female.

Good smell.

Female.

Kitten.

“You are all going to be important to her. Indeed.”

Work was done.

That meant that he no longer cared about anything happening in the palace. His woman was safe. His attendant, the one he favored, was resting. Enkidu was watching them both. That left him with no bed and no plans for the time being.

That in mind, he stood up, motioning for the lions to follow him.

There was no one to stop him from the thought he’d been contemplating during the majority of his work. No one could advise him against what he could do to that fool’s people. Uruk was a kingdom that was built upon the people’s loyalty to their king. Each member within the kingdom contributed. Each person was given their due praise, as was befitting.

He walked down the steps of the ziggurat, eyeing the temple further down the streets.

There was a group in this kingdom who had done nothing to provide for these people he governed. Their actions, along with their woman whom they represented, had gone against the people’s wishes. They’d questioned his presence, knowing full well that he was in trouble.

A part of him wondered how fast he could have been retrieved had the fools acted as Uruk people.

Gilgamesh pushed the doors of Ishtar’s palace open.

“Kill the robed ones.”

The plain beasts roared forward, claws and fangs extended and glinting. The sounds of the screams echoed into the night air as Gilgamesh stood in the doorway, A few attempted to run. A few more attempted to beseech him to help them.

He raised his head up a little higher, regarding their ends.

Their blood would be on his hands, sure.

Their innocence was perhaps debatable.

However, they had known revolution would come if he was found to be gone. Siduri would not reign. Enkidu would have faltered, given that the gods were prone to ruining their lives like that. There would have been nothing and no one to help and protect his people.

The lions pattered forward, coated in red.

“You have done well,” he praised, kneeling down to stroke the beasts’ fur. “We’ll bathe you all in the canals and return to the palace.

His debt to Ishtar was returned.

She had almost killed him and Hakuno at random points.

He had managed to kill all of her priests.

Perhaps now she would learn that he had no intention of coming near her.

“Come,” he told the beasts.

The night was young enough to waste by watching the stars from his favorite gardens.

“It’s good to be back.”

#drabble #drabbles

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 118

Returning to “normal” life was hard, as always. And, as the end of March crept up and you moved into April, you suspected part of the reason Tony may have been laying it on so thick (aside, of course, his deep love for you) was because he knew once he came home he’d throw himself into work. Almost literally. Where you’d spent two weeks basking in each other’s affections and attentions, once you hit the ground in New York, you barely saw him. It wasn’t just him, you were busy, too, but… 

This thing he was working on… as always, when he threw himself into something this hard you got just a little worried. You hoped understandably so. This project was supposed to help your team. Help your life. Help you find some sense of… well… a different normal than you were used to, right then. Where superhero stuff would slowly get phased out of the equation. Which would be a nice thought, but… 

Part of you wondered, as you’d told him, if that was entirely possible. He seemed to think it was just possible enough, even perhaps one-percent possible, for him to look into it. He had some crazy idea- or maybe just a Tony idea that he saw. Some grand vision. You assumed he’d see it through, no matter what it took. You just hoped that wasn’t too much. 

You also hoped you weren’t selfish. Growing lonely in his absence, even when he was just a few floors away at any given time. Just in the labs. Same that you were just in your offices. But. Work kept you divided. Sometimes that was just how it had to be. Much as you regretted it. Even if he was working on something meant to help. 

Your own days became the same exciting, packed monotony. Three meetings before breakfast, too many in the afternoon, piles of emails, conferences, papers to read through,  proposals to pass or go forward on, then a few meetings pushed in at the end of the day. Some you let run long because you knew Tony was still busy anyway, so what was the point? Who were you coming “home” to? 

But… sometimes, when he could, when he remembered, he did try to make an effort. Surprising you with dinner. Sometimes it went the other way around, and you’d bring food down to the lab. He had a ton of exoskeletons on his work tables at any given moment. About a thousand screens surrounding him with work scattered across all of them. Working. Sincerely. Trying his hardest. 

All the time busy and apart made it that much nicer when May came and the two of you did exactly as he’d asked. Spent the entire day of his birthday- ...and maybe a few after (fair was fair) with only each other. Moments like those making you realize just how much you missed him. But they didn’t last forever. Couldn’t. Not with the crush of business invading your lives again soon after. 

And- true to his word and his timeline- near the beginning of June, when you brought dinner down, you caught both him and Bruce working on something in tandem. On the biggest board in the room in big block letters you read aloud, “Project Ultron?” So. Tony had probably gone through an entire proof of concept meeting and gotten Bruce on the team. “Does it stand for something, or…?”

Both of them looked up and spoke at the same time.

“Unique Latency-” “Ultimate Automaton.”

The two looking at each other once they realized they were speaking over one another. You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped, as you sat atop one of the only partially clean tables in the lab. “There are two kinds of people in the world…” Tony clearly was trying to do his little acronym thing, while Bruce was just fusing two concepts together. “...but Ul-tron has an r in there.” Looking at Bruce. “Aren’t you missing a word?” 

Tony crossed his arms with a little shrug. “Which is why if we’d just go with my version-” 

Bruce raised a hand. “We’re still workshopping it. Honestly, I think the name is the least important part.”

“Speak for yourself.” A little scoff as Tony turned back to one of the boards to seemingly correct some math on it. 

Dumping some dressing on one of the salads you’d brought, you cast a long look around the room. It really didn’t look like much to you. A bunch of figures and numbers and science and terms and… all things you were sure made sense to them. But still, “So… what’s this shaping up to be?” You and Tony had talked sparsely about it a handful of times. Now that he really seemed to be moving forward, it seemed like the ideal time to ask. 

Tony half turned back to cast a glance your way. “We’re looking at a ringleader for the newly resurrected Iron Team.” Because you couldn’t help the slight dry look you sent his way, he went into defense mode. “Not- not quite as sizable as before. I promise.” 

You crunched on a forkful of lettuce. “Hmn. I thought we were going with Iron Force? ...or was it Squad?” 

“Too aggressive and too Power Rangers. But. As Banner said… what’s in a name.” Grinning, turning back to his math. 

Bruce shook his head. “I don’t think that’s quite what I was getting at.” 

“So…” Thinking still as you looked at some of the metal frameworks on the table. “We’re still looking at the defensive angle, right?” There were dual murmurs of agreement as they slowly became absorbed in their work again, despite your presence in the room. “Can’t we just- so if you’re looking at someone to direct this Team while our team is busy… can’t we use JARVIS?” 

You thought you understood. From the small bit you and Tony had talked prior, it seemed like they wanted a larger, louder voice to direct the rest of the smaller Iron Suits, while your team would be otherwise busy with stuff. It made sense. 

“JARVIS isn’t equipped enough for this.” 

And, right on cue, JARVIS spoke up. “I’d like to disagree, sir.” 

Not equipped enough… what did that mean? Not smart enough? That was impossible, right? JARVIS was the smartest program that had ever been built, no doubt. But if even he wasn’t what they were looking for… “You’re… looking at building a better artificial intelligence?” A smarter program that could think on its own. Be able to act on its own. 

JARVIS was a smart program, that was true. No doubt. But he needed direction. If your team had their hands full and needed to utilize something on this scale… you’d need a program capable of making the right calls. Capable of calling the shots. 

...this felt… very dangerous… although you were sure if anyone could handle this, it was Tony- and having Tony and Bruce working on it? Should have been a slam dunk. 

Though that thought was shelved, momentarily, when a warm thrum of pride rippled over from Tony to you, and you caught the sight of his fond smile. Proud that you’d worked it out, it seemed. “Something like that. Also. If all parties are interested, I’d like to keep JARVIS for myself.” JARVIS spoke up, still with that dry wit. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment, sir.”  

So. An artificial intelligence that would have command of not only its own powerful suit, but would in essence be in charge of commanding a smaller squad. For clean up. For protection. Crowd control. ...yes, dangerous. “That seems… not that I don’t trust you two- I do. But. You know. A little dicey?” Being honest because this project deserved that, as did Tony. “What if something goes wrong?” 

“I’m glad you asked, honey.” Turning around, arms still half crossed as he waved his finger around. “As it turns out, we decided to hire for a security protocol and contingency coder. And, well, I’ve seen your resume. Very impressive stuff. So I think you’re hired. What do you think, doctor?” Turning to Bruce. 

He smiled. “I like the sound of that.” 

Coming over to you, Tony then stuck out his hand. “How about that. You’re hired.” 

You tried your absolute best to stow your own smile at their antics. “I barely know how to code a website, much less a giant super-AI-bot.” Not sure this was the best idea. No matter how much you liked being included. 

“You’ll link up with JARVIS-”

“And here I thought you’d said I wasn’t smart enough.” JARVIS’ somehow wry tone cutting Tony off. “That’s not what I said. Don’t interrupt me.” Trying to re-catch his train of thought. “Besides, it’s less about programming and more about… foresight. And a human touch, which, no offense-” Shooting Bruce a little look before turning his attention back to you, “-we may be sorely lacking around here.” 

“Some offense taken.” Bruce slipped his glasses off the bridge of his nose, hanging them in his pocket. He settled a hand on his hip as he turned back to the board. You heard the smile reappear in his voice. “Although not much…” 

“Come on, honey, don’t leave me hanging.” Tony reclaiming your attention easily, waggling his hand, still holding it out for you. 

Putting on a grand show of thinking about it, you lingered with a hum before lifting your hand and slowly putting it in his. Once there, the two of you gave a weak shake, far more preoccupied with grinning at one another. “Fine. But. I reserve the right to make my own hours. I’m busy enough as it is. And also to tell you when you’re wrong.” 

“Why else would I hire you?” 

The warmth in his eyes rebounded right back into you, striking at your core, turning you just slightly mushy. He lifted your hand, still in his, just a little further up, pulling you closer. You tilted up as he ducked down, enjoying a sweet and perhaps overly sappy kiss, settling your hand at the side of his neck, fingers brushing over the line of his jaw. It didn’t last long. In fact, you’d have liked it to go on far longer. Or maybe steal him to go upstairs… but he pulled back-

And an uncomfortable half laugh from Bruce drew both your gazes his way. “That’s not uh… the initiation for work on Project Ultron is it? Because I gotta say, I have some reservations about it…” 

Letting go of Tony, you raised a hand to cover your mouth as your own little laugh escaped. Trying to play apologetic. “Sorry, Bruce.” Well. ...it was rude. 

Tony turned away finally, waving a hand that he then dropped on Bruce’s shoulder when he was close enough. “I’m not. If it makes you feel better, you can always kiss me instead.” 

“That’s not-” Bruce getting annoyed and flustered too easily. “No. That’s not what I meant.” 

                                                     ---

You made a concerted effort in your already busy life to visit the lab at the end of the workday at least twice a week. In between calls and meetings you tried to run with JARVIS about how to even set up what Tony was asking you to do. It started as a small list of… basically Plan-B’s. Just-in-cases. That list then grew several pages long. And then it ended up looking like a short story. 

There was no telling if any of it was good or would even be implemented. But it sort of made you feel better about the whole thing (though you promised yourself you were not going to stress about this yet. It was in good hands with Tony and Bruce), to think that maybe even one-percent of what you were thinking about would make it in.

...but who would have even guessed there were so many of these contingencies that would be needed? So many ways for things to go wrong. So many things to look after. It started to drive you crazy, after a while. Really, you were trying uselessly to fight against the saying that you couldn’t prepare for everything. But couldn’t you? Or maybe more accurately, shouldn’t you? You should at least try. 

So that’s what you did. 

There was no rush, though, as the project had only just started. It could take years to even come out of the initial stages. So while you tried to put in a proper amount of work into it- interested and diligent- the fact was that Project Ultron was a long ways off from being an actual thing. Even more so than you may have first thought, as the months drew on and every night you visited Tony and Bruce seemed to get more frustrated each time. 

You weren’t sure what kind of problems they were running into, although you imagined there had to be a plethora of them. This sort of thing wasn’t going to be easy, for sure. But perhaps even they had bitten off more than they could chew. It resulted in Tony spending, somehow, even more time in the lab. ...an alarming amount. To the point where he wouldn’t come upstairs for bed. Or. If he did… he’d sneak out after you’d fallen asleep. 

It felt like a cycle was replaying. A certain pattern. One that spoke of nothing good. But you just… didn’t know how to break him of it. Even still, it just felt a little impossible. Maybe it was something the both of you needed to work on. Because while you weren’t so busy you weren’t making sure you ate and slept- you know, basic human things- you were terribly busy. Which made it all the harder to check in on him. 

It also made it harder to keep track of anything else. As autumn swept away and a new calendar month started in November, you barely remembered you had an anniversary coming up. Five years together, no less. And- hadn’t he said something about a… house? 

The thought was barely there. You weren’t sure if he remembered, either. Because he certainly hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t asked you to clear your schedule or make plans. He had seldom left the Tower, too, so you had a hard time thinking about a plot of land being squared away “somewhere upstate” as he’d put it. 

Maybe it was all going to be a fun surprise, you lied to yourself. 

Instead, the surprise came a few days before the actual date, when just nearing midnight, JARVIS startled you out of reading what someone had falsely labeled as a very important email (they rarely were). His voice cutting in through the thick silence got you to jump so hard you ended up banging your knee on the bottom of your desk, jarring it enough to send a stack of papers you needed to go over flying to the floor. 

“Ma’am, your assistance is required in the lab. There’s an emergency.” 

A soft pained curse escaped you, trying very hard not to get loud- because you didn’t want him thinking you were yelling at him. “What- what happened? Did they blow something up?” You weren’t sure they were at that stage yet, where they’d be in the middle of tinkering with things that could. But you were still on your feet in an instant, charging towards the door and then out to the elevator. 

JARVIS’ voice followed you. “Mr. Stark is in dire need of your help.” 

Inside the elevator you soured a little, crossing your arms. “Is he using you to trick me downstairs?” This sounded like a game. 

“I’ve clocked his temperature at 102.8. He’s having trouble standing.” 

This smacked an immediate silence into you. “He’s sick? Why didn’t he-” Why hadn’t he said anything? 

The doors opened on the lab level and you raced out, down into the private back area. Already through the glass you could see Bruce struggling with Tony, one arm around his shoulders. When you keyed yourself in, his head jerked up. “Oh- good. I don’t know what- he’s sweating bullets.” 

“He’s sick.” Said firmly as you reached out to put a hand on his chest, angling him back. 

“I’m fine.” Flush and sweating. He was foggy, too. Far away from you, when you reached out the other way. “I just- stood up too quick-” 

“And fell over?” So, dizzy, too. 

“Thank god I caught him, or he might have had a much worse accident on the corner of that table.” Bruce sounded extremely vexed. But all too soon you caught the guilt there. His lab partner was sick. And he hadn’t noticed until it was literally just a few seconds from being too late. “Can you take him upstairs?” 

Tony shook his head. “We’ve got- we’re working-” 

“You’re going to bed.” Firm. Putting your foot down. But… taking him upstairs? That seemed like a task for someone a little stronger than you- maybe you could call Thor or… oh. “Wait a second.” The light bulb went off. You let go of him to retrieve the Heart Reactor in your pocket. Safe keeping, as always. Pressing it to your chest, you double tapped to activate it, and left the helmet off. 

Bending down in a single clean sweep, one arm under the bend of his knees and the other around his back, you lifted him off his feet. It was a true testament to how sick he was, that he just melted once the weight was off, going a little slack. Although he did aim a groggy half-lidded smile up your way. “My hero.” 

“Bruce, too. Wanna aim those goo-goo eyes up his way?” Holding back your sigh. 

 Bruce put both hands palm up. “I’m fine without it.”

 Even with his eyes closed, his brow popped that signature arch. “That’s an abuse of power, by the way.”

 “Well at least you’re well enough to sass.” That had to count for something, right?

Bruce shook his head in dismay. “Just… take care of him, alright?” 

“Yeah. Thanks. You should probably take a break, too.” If this was what you thought it was. And, since you were usually right about all things Tony, you had a pretty good idea. When he just nodded meekly at you, you turned to leave. 

It was a strange feeling, carrying Tony up to bed. Seeing him in this state was nothing short of awful. But being able to care for him like this… it was a weird sense of… 

“We were supposed to break ground-” He was mumbling incoherently about something, as you got him upstairs and laid him in bed. 

Without the need for it any longer, you disengaged the suit, leaving the Reactor on the night table. “Just- relax, honey. You’re alright…” Disappearing after a soothing touch at his forehead, going to the kitchen to get an ice pack. 

Tony was still talking when you came back, sitting at his side, wiping the sweat from his brow before settling the wrapped pack on his forehead. His eyes were closed but he shakily reached over, reaching until he found your leg. Grasping there. Lightly. “We were- I had a plot picked out-” 

Oh. “For the house? Don’t worry about that right now. You stressed yourself sick, Tony. Just relax.” He’d really been that worried about this Ultron stuff? About the house- too- possibly? 

...and you’d missed it. Bruce wasn’t the only one feeling terrible. 

“It’s not stress.” Arguing. Even now. “A lab intern sneezed on me earlier-” 

This time the sigh finally escaped you. “Sure, Tony. Somebody sneezed on you.” 

“I’m sure there’s footage-” 

“Okay. Alright. Relax.” Asking a third time, then, putting on your gentlest voice. “Just sleep, okay? You’re alright, I’ve got you.” 

“Contrary to two seconds ago- when you said I was sick-” Sassing you. Even now. He shook his head, hand gripping your leg a little tighter. “Did Banner call you? I don’t remember- things are a little hazy-” 

“JARVIS did.” 

“I didn’t ask him to do that.” His voice was fading. Lulled by the reassurance of your presence- also probably the strain of his own ill consciousness. The sizzle of his fever. 

“Yeah, well. I’m glad he did.” Bruce probably would have called you, after a few more minutes of struggling with a half-dead-to-the-world Tony. Surely. But… JARVIS reaching out to you within a moment’s notice… it was nice to be able to trust him like that. “Just sleep.” 

“Don’t go.” 

It was inexplicable. Perhaps even unfathomable. Those two little words, in that quiet drifting voice… it practically threw you close to crying. Heart aching so suddenly. “I’m right here, Tony…” Hushing him again, reaching up with your other hand to run the backs of your fingers over his red-hot cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

The last thing he seemed to be able to muster before slipping away were a few disjointed words of love. You returned the feeling, cradling him in a blanket of warmth and reassurance as best you could. 

This wasn’t exactly a nightmare scenario like the one before- no one had bombed the Tower or anything- but… you couldn’t help but feel guilty. As usual. There in time to clean up after him. But not catch it in time. 

The two of you still really needed to work on this. 

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Eighteen

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Dragon Prince: Callum’s Magic Origins

Fair warning for anyone who hasn’t seen the latest season of “The Dragon Prince” on Netflix, spoilers will abound for all three seasons down below.

With the incredible show “The Dragon Prince,” something that many might say is the spiritual successor to “Avatar The Last Airbender” (something I’d find myself agreeing with) a great deal of growth has happened to our characters. Among them Callum, the step-son of the late King, has shown incredible growth in his magical abilities, learning to not only produce magic himself but also learn to utilize spells primarily used by the Elves themselves rather than using Dark Magic as most human mages do. While this offers a great contrast to the hero versus the villains with Callum using what might be considered the “pure” side of magic in contrast to Viren’s more “corrupt” version, a question crossed my mind that has gone unanswered by the creatures with no real guarantee that it will be answered by them within the final season or through some other source. If humans were incapable of performing magic, as was stated in season one, how then did Callum suddenly find the ability to perform it himself? 

The answer I came up with is surprisingly simple and one that has been starring us in the face since the show first began. Allow me to explain.

When the show first began one of the first things we learned was that Zedea, a land populated by Elves and Dragons, is a place steeped in magic. As such everything there has an inherent connection to magic to the point that there are whole clans of Elves distinguished by the type of magic they’re capable of wielding. In contrast to them are humans who are, for whatever reason, unable to perform magic at all. That is until they discovered Dark Magic, a perverse version of magic that uses the life essence of others as a means of producing its affects. Unfortunately this same magic is corruptive to the user as well as we see those who constantly utilize Dark Magic beginning to change themselves, becoming less and less human.

However, we also learned that there are objects which contain magic within them such as the Primal Stone which Callum first gains in season one and continues to use throughout until he ultimately shatters it at the end to help create an environment for the Dragon Prince to be born into. It’s when he first gains the Primal Stone that we gain an important clue into how Callum gained the ability to use magic but to understand the intricacies of it we first have to consider something which may very well have been a lie or rather ignorance on the part of the people of the world of “The Dragon Prince” which is that Humans can in fact use magic.

Now, while I know many will quickly point out that the show itself states that Humans are incapable of performing magic aside from Dark Magic, lets take a a few things into consideration first. First off, while the show does state that Humans aren’t able of performing magic, it never gives us a reason why. All we know is that we can’t until, in Season 2, Callum goes and breaks the mold, bringing with it a whole host of questions. It won’t be until Season 3 that we start to gain more clues as to why Elves and Dragons can perform magic and Humans cannot. It has nothing to do with their species but rather their geographical locations.

Think about it. Elves and Dragons live in Zedea. Zedea is a land that is permeated by magic. Everything from the air to the plants and animals and even the dirt itself is inherently magical in one way or another. Being that the Elves and Dragons live there it wouldn’t be at all unusual for them to have the ability to utilize and manipulate this. Being surrounded by it 24/7 no doubt ensures that they will be able to perform magic without fail. Compare that to the Kingdoms of the Human world, a land devoid of magic. It makes sense that were there is an absence of magic there is therefore an absence of anyone capable of performing magic as well. Who’s to say that a human, born and raised in Zedea, wouldn’t be able to utilize magic as easily as the Elves?

If we assume that Elves and Humans have a common ancestor (a theory which I will cover at a later time) then we can rightly assume that those who either stayed or colonized Zedea became magic users, eventually becoming the elves, while those who colonized the Human kingdoms became humans with their magical abilities lying dormant, unable to be accessed without a bit of a push. That’s where the Primal Stone comes into play.

The Primal Stone, as we learn, contains Primal Magical Energy within, enabling anyone to use Wind (or another element) magic without another primal source such as a storm or a strong wind. Its here that Callum starts to unlock his magical potential, working muscles that had been dormant for what must have been generations. Through the constant use of Magic, thanks in part to the Primal Stone, he begins to reteach his body something it had long forgotten how to do; use magic. The constant use and exposure to the stone enabled his body to get used to the sensation of using and producing magic, increasing his abilities and making him stronger, much in the same way lifting weights trains and builds up our muscles. All of this, naturally, brings up the question “Well, if he can use magic now does that mean he’ll be able to use any kind of magic?” To that I say yes and no. Its really a matter of the kind of magic he’s been exposed to.

In Season 2 we learn that the six Primal Sources, where magic originates, also have six nexuses. These are places where the magic is at its strongest and may have had a part to play in the creation of the different Elven tribes. The reason I bring them up is that, depending on which of these primal sources Callum was exposed to would determine which type of magic he would utilize. In his case it was Wind magic not only due to the Primal Stone but the Dragon Prince himself.

What I found interesting was the fact that Callum not only came into possession of a Wind Primal Stone but the Dragon Prince of the Sky as well. While this could be chalked up to coincidence, I believe it was purposefully done by the writers in order to set up Callum’s growth. His constant expose to the stone as well as the Prince while both an egg and now a Dragon are what fueled his ability to use magic. Both the stone and the Prince radiate Wind magic, ensuring Callum was constantly bathed in their magical energy. Even after he destroyed the stone he still had the Prince nearby, feeding his body and helping him to maintain his connection to the magic itself. Its when he has his fever dream towards the end of Season 2 that he discovers his abilities with the dream no doubt being his dormant abilities manifesting themselves and speaking to him in a manner that he himself might understand.

The final nail in the coffin comes towards the conclusion of Season 3. Having returned the Prince to his mother and meeting a second Sky Elf, Callum comes to learn how to transform his arms into wings. While again people would chalk this up to coincidence, I’d ask that you consider a few other factors.

First, Callum has been actively using Wind magic throughout this Season. His abilities have risen to the point that its almost instinct now. Second, he’s now at the Dragon Queens den and being in her presence no doubt exposes him to an even greater source of magic that overshadows the Prince and the Stone combined. Lastly, and what I consider the most important, I believe that the Dragon Queen’s den is in fact at the Wind Nexus itself. Think about it, the conditions needed to birth a Sky Dragon are very specific to the point that Callum had to sacrifice his Primal Stone just to make it happen. What better place to nest than at the source where the magical energy needed to bring him into the world is in abundance. Knowing all of this it makes sense that Callum would have such an exponential leap in his abilities to the point that he could perform an extremely rare transformation ability. Long story short, he’s sitting in an area thats cooking with Wind Magic. Next thing you know he’d be hovering over the ground like Zaheer.

So, in the end am I correct? Maybe and maybe not. It is a theory after all and until the creators come out and confirm this it’ll be nothing more than that. That said, it’s hard to argue with the evidence. Everything from the stone to the Dragon Prince to Zedea to the Dragon Queen’s den all point to the same thing enough so that I’d be willing to bet Callum would have been able to utilize anyone of the six Primal Sources so long as you changed the nature of the objects to match. That said, I’ll leave it up to you to decide. Did my theory explain a major plot hole that was always meant to be there until it was explained or is there something else at work that I’m not considering? You be the judge.

That said, look forward to a second Dragon Prince theory in the future. We’ll be traveling back centuries to find out how Elves and Humans came to be and how they might not be so different after all.

#the dragon prince #callum hudson odoi #primal stone #magic