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cldhrbour · 27 days

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important portrayal notes

below are just some canon divergencies or nuances that i want to make explicitly clear are important to my development of serana. these are all pieces i've built over the years that, if we're writing together, and especially if it's in any high fantasy verse where serana's backstory is a bit more in play, that i'd appreciate you know and accept. hell, these matter more to me over you knowing her general plot to begin with since that's easy for me to summarize to you. there's just stuff in the game i've gotten sick of as far as how it was handled and i want to make sure we're on the same wavelength when it comes to writing and plotting together.

most importantly: your character (mainly if you're an ldb or tav or inquisitor - esque character) does not get to kill harkon. i'm glad we're all finally at a point where we want characters to have agency in their story rather than playing 'side-piece' to main player characters and this is something i've harped on for literal years. this is serana's story, this is her trauma that she has to come to terms with and make the final decision that her father can't live any longer. you don't get to take that away from her. it's a perfect character arc for her to go through and thus, all other characters will play a side-role in the final battle at castle volkihar. you don't have the history with him. you don't have the memories she has and the emotions she's had to go through to get to this point. do you understand how much it takes to get to a place where you know you have to kill your parent and not only just that but actually do it to begin with? it's stupid to think that serana has all this rich backstory with her clan and parents just to have someone she met maybe a couple months ago come in and sweep it all away. give her agency, my fucking god. you got your hero moment defeating alduin, the absolute, corypheus, etc. let serana have hers.

in my canon harkon does kill serana in kind. their final moments together are supposed to represent not only serana finally needing to accept her father's megalomania will never be cured and that he isn't the same man who raised her, but also she needs to see that in his final moment of taking the plunge and killing her. it's one thing to battle with him and try to continue to reason with him, it's another to stand there seeing he actually staked you through the heart at a final grasp of power. this happens within seconds of each other, there's nothing anyone can do about it. granted, it's a cop-out for me that her mother is a notorious necromancer and can bring her daughter back over a couple of days, so her story can and will continue, but for all intents and purposes, these two kill each other.

this blog is castle volkihar favorable. i'm staunchly against the dawnguard, but more importantly against the extermination of serana's entire family leaving her with no one once the dust has settled. it's fine if your character is a part of the dawnguard, but understand that if there's no compromise between the dawnguard and serana to keep the rest of the coven alive if the vampires agree to follow her instead, then you abandon any further 'friendly interaction' with her once the battle at the castle is over. you don't get to have your cake and eat it too because 'vampires = evil' in this godforsaken, lack of nuance game. as long as the coven continues to live, serana will then take over her parent's role and lead the volkihars.

serana will canonically have two sets of scars. and only two, considering her ability to heal. one is a pair of burn marks at her hips from when she became a daughter of coldharbour and was assaulted by molag bal. this is something, in my own canon, every vampire with the title of daughter of coldharbour has. it's a mark the prince of domination wants to have on his property. the second will appear after being resurrected by feran and valerica, a pitted scar at her sternum where harkon attempted to kill her. both of them bleak reminders of her deaths.

as she continues to develop, and metas i have become more solidified, i will be adding to this list and i'll make sure to make a post/update everyone when it's been adjusted to reflect my current canon.

#i've been wanting to rewrite this forever #and i feel like i didn't go into detail enough but if i ever edit it i'll let y'all know #please please take a quick peek #most importantly if we're writing in fantasy verses #✝︎ . ⌜ meta ⌟ . 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥.

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rusty-gloinks · 6 months

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I got bored and asked an Ai to make a Dragon Witch. I have an OC who's a 12/5 year old girl who's also actually a dragon, but she looks pretty different from that.

The story is set in a mundane urban fantasy where mythical and cryptozoological creatures are blended into the world. Dragons however exist away from civilization an keep to themselves (even then, they can't stand each other all that much either). Ryoko on the otherhand was found as an egg on the beach by an aspiring marine biologist student. Thanks to the rarity and elusiveness of dragons, he had no way of knowing it was a dragon so he took the egg home with him to study. The egg eventually hatched into a larval creature that he raised for a few months before the biologist eventually realized it was a dragon and that he couldn't a sentient being captive. However on the day he was planning on releasing it, the creature molted into a human baby girl. The man, recognizing that the creature imprinted on him, named her Ryuko meaning "Dragon Child" and decided to raise it as his own.

Ryuko would live a quite and relatively sheltered life with her dad, with only a pet rat familiar as company for the majority of it. Shy, introverted, and quiet girl, Ryoko rather stick to the basic routines of surfing the web, playing video games, performing the dark arts, practicing on her guitar. However, after a terrible incident regarding bullies that left her voice box severely damaged, coupled with her dragon nature beginning to resurface, Ryuko would become deeply embittered and isolate herself from others whenever she could. She became a secretive, cunning loner who other kids found creepy and unapproachable, a belief to which she proudly enforced.

One day though, Ryuko was walking home from school across a bridge when a strange creature swam underneath it. Against her better judgement, she when down to investigate and was confronted with a wounded Ningyo (the more monstrous Japanese version of mermaids) child slightly older than her lunged at her was desperate ferocity. Despite her initial fear, Ryoko could sense that the ningyo was scared, lost, and hurting (something she's all too familiar with). After a long, awkward, tense, and slightly cute introduction, the ningyo revealed her named Mamiko Bashira, (Miko for short) who was taken far away from her home in the open sea by trawl net and found her way here. Ryuko, taking pity carried the merlass back to her place and allowed her to live in the bath tub for the time being. And thus the story of adventure, transformation, healing, existentialism, and cute child romance begins.

Yes, I just used this to talk about a writing project I've been working on, I'm bored as heck.

While this is cool and all, I’d prefer if you didn’t share ai generated stuff here!! /lh /nm

#Ask

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minachan95-written-works-on-ao3 · 8 months

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Title: That Rainy Night…

Fandom: King of Fighters

Characters: Kyo Kusanagi, Iori Yagami

Pairing: Iori x Kyo

Summary:

[This story was made as entry for September's month Aarinfantasy Writing Challenge.] [This story is a sequel to Something That You Cannot Dim and Take It Away...]

"<...>While Iori stares through the window, he wonders.

It’s been a while since he had such a sleepless night during the storm, or even much longer since that one time. That one rainy night changed their relationship completely. Or perhaps, just fastened the inevitable...<...>"

AO3 Link

September's writing prompt: "That Time"

Word count: 1949

It is almost the middle of the night, and everyone seems to be asleep in Yagami’s apartment. When the moon gets hidden by the gray clouds, it’s raining.

Soon enough, gentle raindrops grow into a heavy, pouring rain. And thus, a rhythmic, loud tapping at the window wakes one redhead.

Surely, it’s frustrating how such a simple thing disturbs his rest.

Suddenly, the lightning strikes, and he feels how someone clings to him and rubs his head against his chest before exhaling and releasing him.

At first, Iori assumes Kyo woke up as well. Yet, when he whispers his partner’s name, he doesn’t receive any response.

The redhead understands that the Kusanagi is unconsciously influenced by the weather while dreaming about something.

While Iori stares through the window, he wonders.

________________________________

A few years ago.

A couple of weeks have passed since Kyo’s wounds have healed.

Of course, he didn’t want to use his rival’s kindness for too long by living rent-free in his apartment. Nor to make Iori think he is taking advantage of him. And thus, when he could stand on his feet, he left.

Besides, he still feels guilty for making his family and friends worry about his sudden disappearance for a year. Perhaps he was buried in someone’s mind. But Kyo still worries about how he’ll get greeted or that his rival nursed him.

Either way, he wouldn’t mind staying longer if Yagami asked him. Strangely, he almost got used to it as it was his own home.

A month passed by. Finally, after a long time, the brunette is ready to have another match against Iori.

Besides, he is as thrilled as Iori, and it might be a good practice and a better way to get back in shape. Or so Kyo is determined as he fixes the biker gloves and puts on the white jacket before leaving.

After arriving at the destination place, he spots one certain redhead leaning against the wall.

When Iori notices him, he delightfully smiles and crosses his arms. “You’ve made me wait for you, Kyo.”

“Aren’t you so eager to get your ass kicked?” The Kusanagi replies as he raises his palm and ignites it. While the orange flame dances on his palm, he adds. “Fine. Just don’t get burnt~”

When Yagami approaches him, he repeats the same movement. “You talk too much… This time you’ll sing your swan song!”

Lastly, the brunette announces as the little fire sparkles in his eyes. “I would love to see that. Let’s do this, Yagami!”. Thus, after both dim their flames, both charge at each other, another fierce battle begins.

____________________

Some time passes. Finally, the match is over, but there is no clear winner. Apparently, both opponents barely stand while catching their breath.

While Iori holds onto himself and pants, he stares at Kyo, who wipes his mouth with a fist, giving a mocking look. “Have you realized that the victory is mine?”

Unfortunately, his launched punch is too weak that it’s enough for the redhead to move a bit and dodge the strike.

When the brunette harshly collapses on the gravel, he grunts.

“Tsk. Look who is talking?” Iori backfires as he bends and places his arm under his rival’s armpit. After they stand up together, he adds. “Either way, you’re going with me.”

Kyo only gives a questioning look. “What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t obvious? Your wounds need to be treated before you’ll face me next time.” Yagami explains while supporting the brunette.

____________________

After a while, they arrive at Iori’s apartment.

At first, the Kusanagi doubts his rival’s intentions when they enter the living room, and the redhead asks him to remove his black long-sleeved t-shirt.

Nevertheless, he does what is told and waits for Iori.

A few minutes pass. And thus, Yagami returns while carrying the first aid kit and sits close to him on the couch.

When the redhead opens the medkit and picks up the spray disinfectant, he orders. “Give me your arm.”

When Kyo turns his head away, he extends his arm. For now, he doesn’t mind how Iori holds his wrist or him examining his arm.

Yet, the sensation of the cold, stinging liquid sprayed over it makes him close his eyes.

“What’s wrong? It needs to be clean. So, hold it like this for a bit longer.” The redhead comments while he dries the disinfected area by gently tapping with the sterile cotton.

After he wraps the medical bandage around Kyo’s arm, he repeats the same process with another one.

Yet, the Kusanagi panics when Iori parts his legs with his knee and leans closer.

It doesn’t help that he cannot read the redhead’s serious face.

“The heck you’re doing?” The brunette widens his eyes and presses his back against the couch.

Meanwhile, Iori only narrows his gaze and sticks the white plaster on Kyo’s cheek.

After studying the brunette for longer, he remarks. “You don’t seem to have more wounds.”.

When Iori withdraws and tidies the left mess, he gets up and adds. “You can dress up and leave.”

For sure, ever since Iori brought him to his apartment after the NESTS lab incident, Kyo has noticed such weird behavior.

Of course, the brunette is curious whether Yagami is always like this or something bothers him.

That’s why he is determined to uncover the truth, even if he might get dragged out and thrown by the back of his collar.

When Kyo rests his hands behind his shoulders and sinks into the couch, he replies. “Why? I’m all good at staying here. Besides, I have no plans for tonight. So, be glad that I am gonna keep you a company.”

“Why do you have to be like this?” Iori facepalms.

The Kusanagi simply answers. “You’ve been acting strangely.”

“And you’re sticking your nose into other’s business as usual,” Iori complains.

“Then you wouldn’t put on a show like now if nothing happened. You’re in some sort of trouble, but you’re too stubborn to ask for help.” Kyo backfires.

As he lowers his arms and looks down, he feels a tightness in his throat, making it difficult to speak. After shakily exhaling, he adds while clenching his palms into the fists. “How can’t you understand that you’re not alone and the entire world is not your enemy? It’s okay to rely on others or at least on me if you don’t trust that much anyone, you know. And… I don’t want to see you suffering.”

Meanwhile, Yagami only rolls his eyes and thinks to himself. “Then do not interfere and leave me alone, you fool.”

Lastly, Kyo confesses in a calm tone. “I know I cannot lift your blood curse, nor you denounce your name to end it. However, at least let me relieve a part of your pain. Because I don’t want to lose you ever again.”

Suddenly, Iori corners his rival and grasps his throat while he doesn’t remove his eyes from him.

As his hand slides to the side of his neck, Kyo breathes a sigh of relief and looks at him, still in shock. “Yagami?”

“Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” The redhead whispers.

Just before Kyo says anything else, he closes his eyes and gasps when Iori sinks his face into the crook of his neck and starts licking it.

Soon enough, the sound of the thunderstorm and heavy rain made him widen his eyes.

The sensation of how his sensitive neck is assaulted bewilders Kyo. All he can do is hold back from letting out the purring-like noises. More so, without realizing it, he wraps one arm around his partner’s shoulders.

After such a gesture, Iori withdraws his face and stares at Kyo. For now, he is just as confused as the brunette.

However, none of them say anything, or there is no need to waste time on that. A second later, the redhead gives a questioning look to the Kusanagi while his placed hand on his chest slides down his abs.

Of course, Kyo is aware of what it will lead to, but he doesn’t mind. If this is what his partner wants or simply seeking comfort, then so be it.

After all, it’s the person to whom he can entrust his life and body. Iori saw and accepted him when he was most vulnerable, pathetic, and broken.

Besides, it should be fine to do it with someone he knows rather than being violated by soulless machines and disposed of after fulfilling his purpose. Or so Kyo decides, as he only closes his eyes and nods.

More so, if he was disgusted or didn’t want it, he could still push Iori away and run. The fact that Iori had concealed these powerful feelings for an unknown length of time was more shocking than finally revealing them.

In the end, the brunette leaves the rest for his partner.

__________________________

Several minutes pass. Aside from the raindrops rapidly tapping the window, the bedroom is filled with lover cries and groaning.

Only watching his long-time rival making such lewd, adorable expressions and sounds even more arouses Iori.

After all, it’s his first time seeing this side of Kyo. However, it only makes him desire of him more.

More so, the redhead hopes that nobody witnessed before or ever will something endearing that only belongs to him. He is even ready to kill anyone on the spot, whoever would dare to touch Kyo or take him away from him again.

Meanwhile, the brunette addresses his partner. “I don’t get it. You keep saying that you’ll kill me… But now… You.. you’re doing the opposite.”

When Iori stops moving, Kyo realizes he did something wrong and ruined the intimate moment.

However, he widens his eyes when Yagami holds his hands and pulls him to a kiss. At first, such a gesture genially confused Kyo.

After all, it’s only sex which only purpose is to use someone to get what you want, even if that person objects. Or so the brunette learned it the hard way.

That’s why, now it feels the opposite of what he had experienced in the lab. Surprisingly, it’s even something pleasant for him, and he doesn’t feel ashamed and stressed at all.

But for now, as soon as their fingers intertwine, Kyo blissfully closes his eyes while enjoying being embraced by Iori.

In the end, the Kusanagi can swear that the rain slowly soothes his scars from the past when he is being held by this man.

_____________________________

Back to the present.

Eventually, the storm finally calms down.

Suddenly, the Kusanagi’s struggling, and his sleepy voice returns the redhead to his senses. “What is it with you? Did you have a nightmare or something?”

Apparently, when Iori was staring out the window, he didn’t notice how he wrapped his arms around Kyo.

While Iori refuses to let him go, he replies. “Nothing. Just been thinking about something. So, go back to sleep.”

“And you need to use me as a plush toy for that?” The brunette genially asks.

However, he receives no answers, only having his head pressed against his partner’s chest.

Some time passed. It’s the beginning of the next day.

When Kyo gets up, the first thing is checking through the window. After noticing the view outside for a couple of minutes, he covers his face with one palm and fixes his hair upon remembering certain events. “You idiot…”

Perhaps yesterday, Iori saw the same rain as that one time.

#kof #king of fighters #iori yagami #kyo kusanagi #kyo x iori #iori x kyo #fanfiction #complete #one-shot #kyoxiori one-shot #hurt/comfort

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sereina · 6 months

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When Serena first got to Kalos' Elite Four, she genuinely had no idea what to expect. Both out of herself, and out of the Elite Four members themselves. Most importantly, she wanted to do her team proud. It was what they deserved after their arduous and tough journey. Serena had already kept them waiting long enough following her month long recovery post-Flare, and she was entering Kalos' League with a team of 5 - not 6, not like how it should have been, Olympe's absence and death still fresh for both Serena and the rest of the team.

Siebold's chamber was where Serena encountered her first major problem, though no fault of his own. The battle had been going well, up until Siebold sent out his Gyarados. The Flare HQ incident was still a raw wound for Serena that hadn't yet healed, and seeing the Gyarados only threw her back to her battle with Lysandre and his Gyarados - the Gyarados that resulted in Olympe's death, after Lysandre had used it to attack Serena.

Luckily Joyeuse was out on the field at this time. Serena was beyond coherency, unable to actually direct Joyeuse. The deep bond and trust they shared, however, was what guided Joyeuse to her decision making. The decision of getting the Gyarados down immediately, seeing the distress Serena was in. The roaring waterfalls of the chamber deafened most noise, and one would assume Serena had simply given orders.

Joyeuse dispatched Siebold's Gyarados with a ferocity that had become characteristic of the Aegislash as of late, knocking it out with a heavy blow from her blade. They were able to exit the chamber following the battle without much of a fuss, and Rose, Serena's Sylveon, was able to finally come out and help calm her trainer down.

Her battles with Wikstrom and Drasna were far less eventful. Serena had Merlin out for most of Wikstrom's battle, the Delphox dispelling his steel-types with expertly weaved flames. Joyeuse was utilized against Wikstrom's Aegislash, pitting sword against sword, though Joyeuse would inevitably come out on top.

Drasna was more or less the same story, pitting her Venusaur, Snack against her Dragalge and then utilizing Rose and her Goodra, Jello, for the rest of her team. Both Wikstrom and Drasna were very kind to Serena, both before and after their battles. She left both of their chambers following the battles feeling a lot better than before.

This only lasted until she finally reached Malva's chamber. Malva was someone Serena had only a couple run-ins with during her journey, but she knew what Malva was all about. Seeing her holding such a lofty League position made her blood boil, instilling a deep rage in her. After all that Flare had done - for one of them to be among the ranks of the Elite Four? It was unforgivable to her.

Despite having the odds stacked against her, Serena knew Joyeuse was insistent on letting her fight. It was a brutal and grueling fight, the most intense Serena had thus far in the Elite Four. After bringing Malva down to her final pokemon, her Pyroar, she could tell Joyeuse was beginning to grow tired. The Aegislash was too proud to make it obvious, but Serena knew better. The Pyroar landed a devastating hit to Joyeuse's shield, fiery claws scorching hot and cleaving three scars through her steel. In the end, though, Serena and Joyeuse were both able to pull through and vanquished the final member of Kalos' Elite Four.

Serena took to Diantha's arena with ferocity, eyes a dark stormy grey. It only grew worse as the Champion, whom Serena had met multiple times during her journey, didn't remember who Serena was at first. Being thanked for her efforts in squashing Flare was the final nail in the coffin, especially after Kalos' own Champion had done nothing to help.

Everything that had happened during her journey, and everything she had experienced fighting Kalos Elite Four culminated to this moment. Serena, at this point, was so angry she could hardly think straight.

All of her team was utilized in this final battle, though with Diantha having six pokemon, Serena had to double dip one of her team members. This, of course, would be Joyeuse. With Serena having healed Joyeuse with what she had available to her, she was roaring to fight. She came head-to-head with Diantha's Gardevoir, of which she would waste no time in Mega Evolving. Joyeuse was getting decent damage in, but she was also being whittled away with every attack due to Mega Evolution's sheer power.

In the end, Joyeuse would fell the Mega Gardevoir, only to fall unconscious not long after herself. Though Joyeuse was knocked out, the Aegislash did not waver, and she did not fall, remaining upright despite her lack of consciousness.

Serena was the victor, being crowned as Kalos Champion. She was quickly ushered to the League's healing station, and then her Hall of Fame photo was taken. The empty spot that Olympe should have filled was glaringly obvious, and Serena's smile did not meet her exhausted eyes. Around her neck were still bruises, in the crude outline of hands, from where Lysandre had attempted to take her life.

When she finally got a chance to speak, Serena stated she had no intention of taking the Champion seat. Upon arriving to the League, she may have thought differently, but after everything... she had no respect for Diantha, and she couldn't idly take the Champion seat knowing a former Flare member was in the ranks of the Elites.

Her declination came as a surprise, to the point where no further words were exchanged between the two. Serena gathered up her team, made sure she wasn't leaving any personal belongings behind, and left Kalos' League.

While Serena was never officially was Kalos Champion, she is still registered into the Hall of Fame. These records are publicly available, showcasing the photo of her and her team, along with her Trainer ID. It's common knowledge Serena took down Diantha without taking the seat itself, a point that caused contention in the Kalosian media. Some touted it as her disrespecting both Diantha and the League, while others praised her for not falling into the cycle of the child prodigy turned Champion.

She was emboldened and embittered to make such a decision in the end, her overall view on Kalos' Elite Four and Champion utterly and completely soured. Their inaction to aid her and her friends - all of which were just kids at the same - was egregious enough as it was. Diantha's lack of care over Malva being in her League and not even remembering who Serena was, despite her being the one to have to step up for Kalos - a teenage girl of all people when there was a perfectly capable Champion - was the final nail in the coffin.

Make no mistake, though. Despite Serena turning down the seat, she is a Champion-level trainer through and through. She still battles with her team at Kalos' Battle Chateau, holding the prestigious Grand Duchess title - one she also pried from Diantha's hands in a massive upset. She holds all the badges from the Kalos and Hoenn Gyms, along with boasting a handful of miscellaneous badges from other regions she's visited. Battling is still something she is very passionate about even after delving into furthering her education. It's a way for her to continually be close with her team, and to further forge the bonds they share.

All in all - Serena absolutely doesn't regret refusing the Champion seat. Not even for a single second.

#🌹 headcanon.#long post #i dont know why i made this so rambly but hiiii #this is a major change between her old blog and this one. is her beating diantha but not officially taking the seat #and i LOVE it for her i love it so much i should have done this from the beginning. girlboss kalos queen 😭#also no shade to diantha and malva i love them. the lesbians of all time. but serena has no respect for either of them 🥹#serena is not dawn levels of insane as far as being unbeatable. but she is not weak either!! dont underestimate her 🫣

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golbrocklovely · 1 year

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it’s so weird that stas is only ever really in vegas with kat when snc leave lol. just a year ago those 4 were the best of friends and now they’re rarely in the same place together anymore

maybe i’m jumping the gun and speaking too soon and stas will still be there when snc return but 🤷‍♀️

it’s strange to see people still hung up on tc4 this tc4 that when they’re barely friends anymore

“burns half as long when it’s twice as bright” comes to my mind when i think of tc4. they were EVERYWHERE together for a year or so and they had traditions (spending a couple months in vegas together) and it was just the 4 of them for a while. now only 2 or 3 hang out at a time. it’s lowkey sad but i felt they were kind of too close… like they were isolating themselves from everyone else. they all seem to have good friendships with other people now which is why i don’t feel so bad. sorry if this is really long lol i just had to get my thoughts out after seeing kat and stas’ stories

i think the downfall of their group was a mix of things.

mostly, i think it was stas catching feelings for colby. she did a lot of questionable shit when she caught feelings for him that i think left a bad taste in his mouth, and thus caused them all to split slowly but surely.

bc she wanted to live in this fantasy where she was y/n and her life was a fanfic with colby in it, and she just took it too far. once the malishka shit happened, i think that was the turning point for colby. bc right around that time he started deleting comments about her and him together (even did the same for him and shea which was very surprising) and constantly saying "i'm single, i don't want a gf, i'm not dating anyone rn" when stas was trying to make it seem like the opposite was true.

and my thing is, i don't fault her for having feelings towards colby. i've been there many times before. but, to get upset at a guy that has never shown interest in you for not reciprocating your feelings back is just weird. not to mention her constantly telling fans in gcs about stuff….. it's no wonder things ended the way they did.

is it possible that there is a lot we don't know that happened bts? of course. i don't pretend to know the whole picture. hell, we probably only know a piece of the puzzle. but it's clear to me that colby had to put his foot down and put some distance between him and her. and that was the first time he's had to do that bc god knows colby doesn't like anything negative or having to stick up for himself (which i'm just gonna assume he sees as negative).

that's why for a while it was just kat hanging out with stas. and i think as time goes on, i think the whole group will come back around. i don't see them being as close as they once were, but i can see them being able to hang out all once again (i mean, they technically already did for when we were young and sort of on colby/stas' bday lol). bc even tho colby put some distance between him and her, i don't think he hates her or anything like that. i think he just needed distance. and obviously kat still likes her, and sam doesn't really have an opinion unless kat tells him to so i'm gonna assume he also likes her.

and while i don't agree with the sentiment that they were all never really that close to begin with and she was just kat's friend that tagged along bc kat was lonely, while that last part is true, i do think they were all close at one point. which is why i think they haven't hung out as a group since. when a problem arises in a group, it's gonna take some time to heal from it. also, snc are on their grind rn, colby has more important shit to worry about, so repairing a friendship is probably last on the list.

i think they were the type of group that did well in positive situations, if that makes any sense. they were down for the partying, they were down for the festivals, for the drinking, for the staying up late and going to vegas and ghost hunting and all that good stuff. i had friends similar to that in college. but when the party was over… what exactly did we have in common? we never hung out sober, or if we did the vibe just wasn't the same. clearly, in a party we were awesome and it was fun. but when the morning would come, we were sorta strangers in the end bc we just never got deep on that level.

while i do think tc4 were friends, i do think that once things got "negative", so to speak, that's when they stopped thriving. and that's when they couldn't be friends anymore.

i honestly think that they just need time, and they could all be friends again. it might take a bit of time, but i won't be surprised if later this year they're all hanging out somewhere or ghost hunting. like i said in a previous ask forever ago, i'll be very surprised if stas isn't in some video of snc's.

but who knows? maybe i'm just an optimist and they'll never all hang out again as a group lol tbh i don't care either way.

#ask #personal #tc4

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 1 year

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Well Suited by happyaspie

Part 2 of the Fostering Hope series

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated T || Chapter 1/2 || Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds || Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Self Doubt

Summary:

After coming to live with Tony and Pepper, Peter begins to have nightmares. His therapist tells him it's okay; that nightmares are a perfectly normal part of the healing process. Peter, however, is dubious. He's enhanced. He's supposed to be asuperhero.And that's exactly why he doesn't want Tony to know about them. But the worst part of the constant nightmares is the way they make him feel like he shouldn't put on the new Spider-Suit. In fact, he's starting to wonder if he should have ever become Spider-Man at all.

[This fic belongs to a series. Some parts of it may be easier to understand if you've read Part One]

[Except Below the Cut]

Peter woke up with a start. He gasped and shot up in his bed, his eyes darting around the darkened bedroom. He greedily gulped down a few deep breaths and dug the heels of his hands so deeply into his eye sockets that bright yellow spots began to appear behind his eyelids. He’d had another childish nightmare; his fifth one in as many days and there had been several others before that. He was starting to grow frustrated.

‘Damn it,’ he thought to himself as he continued his attempts to self-regulate. He took deep breaths, counted all the way up to twenty-five and repeated in his head, the various affirmations his therapist had taught him.

“Peter, you appear to be in distress,” FRIDAY said the same as she had every other night, then asked, “Are you in need of assistance?”

Peter jerked his head side to side, and signed, ‘I’m okay,’ long since knowing she would register the motion. When she didn’t probe any further, he gathered another deep breath and laid back down. The star stickers he and Tony had placed on the ceiling were still faintly glowing, meaning he couldn't have been asleep for long. A glance at his clock confirmed that it was only one in the morning.

Peter sighed profoundly and picked up one of the action figures he kept on his bedside table. He twisted it between his fingers and fidgeted with its articulated limbs. He’d been living under Tony and Pepper’s care for the last two months and thus far, it had been pretty good.

He’d been allowed to remain at midtown with Ned and MJ. He had a room all to himself and received plenty of positive attention without ever having to ask. Tony allowed him to come into the lab any time he wanted, and he ate breakfast with Pepper every single morning. All the while he continued to see Mrs. Braswell on a fairly constant basis. Those were all great things.

He’d also been enrolled in therapy. Not against his will, Tony and Pepper had asked him if that was something he was interested in pursuing. Admittedly he’d agreed mostly because he thought that was what they had wanted to hear. But he didn’t necessarily regret his choice. It was just all more complicated than he’d ever imagined.

It had taken a couple of tries to find a therapist that Peter felt he could connect with. And after that, he’d started going twice a week. It had been fine at first. All they did was play chess and casually chat via Peter's typical means of communication. The woman was patient and kind, and he enjoyed her company. It was like gaining another friend. But after some time, she started proposing much heavier questions. They were worded gently and sometimes Peter would feel compelled to answer. Other times he would choose to shake his head, a non-verbal signal that they’d hit on a subject he wasn’t prepared to discuss. Although that didn’t happen frequently. The therapist seemed to know exactly how much she could ask and how long the conversation could be carried before striking the point where Peter would clam up completely. She never pushed after that. She respected him and that was nice.

What wasn’t nice was the nightmares that had started shortly after he’d begun to really open up. The therapist had assured him that nightmares were a standard part of the healing process; that they were a result of his brain subconsciously processing all of the trauma he’d been through. ‘They won’t be like this forever,’ she’d said. ‘We’ll work through them together.’ But Peter was dubious. Especially when she’d suggested they make his foster parents aware of the situation. ‘Having someone there to support you will help,’ she’d said. ‘That kind of comfort can reaffirm that you’re safe and loved.” Peter knew she was right, but he was having a hard time bringing himself to tell Iron Man that he was waking up in a panic on a near nightly basis. Not when he was supposed to be something of a hero himself.

Peter sighed as he thought about the various bits of advice the therapist had given him and tried to take it to heart. But no matter how many times he tried to convince himself she was right, and that he should absolutely inform Tony and Pepper about his nightmares. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Besides, he was doing fine. Not once had he ever woken up so unnerved that he couldn’t eventually fall back to sleep. At that thought, he yawned, rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. He still had several hours before he had to get up, and with any luck, there wouldn’t be any more unpleasant interruptions.

The next morning he woke up to his alarm and stretched out under the covers. He remembered waking up to a nightmare but when he tried to think of what it was about, he realized the details had already faded away. He couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” Pepper greeted, as he walked into the kitchen dressed and freshly showered. Then, as he sat down at the bar, she slid a plate towards him and asked, “Sleep well?”

Peter nodded without hesitation. Although he could see the way she was looking him over and wondered if she could see the bags until his eyes. He felt bad for lying and thankfully, she didn’t call him out on it. He took that as a win and thanked her for the breakfast.

Later that morning as Peter walked towards his locker, he spotted Ned and waved to gain his attention. The motion did its job and within seconds his friend was wheeling around to look at him.

“You look like crap,” Ned said in lieu of a greeting.

Peter blinked three times as he tried to decide how to respond. He finally settled on an unamused look and a simple sign of, ‘Thanks.’

“Have you been going out as,” Ned began, then paused to look over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “You know,” he continued, followed by a surreptitious flick of his wrist.

‘I haven’t even put the new suit on yet,’ Peter texted, accompanied by a brief roll of his eyes. Ned was his right-hand man when it came to his web slinging. There was no way he would have started going back out in the suit without telling him. ‘If I had, I would have told you.’

“Well, why haven’t you!” Ned quietly hissed. “It’s so awesome, and you have actual permission to go out and- do your thing.”

‘I know. It’s totally awesome,’ Peter messaged because his new suit had been made with Stark technology. Awesome was probably an understatement. But he couldn't seem to bring himself to actually try it on. He didn’t want to say that to his friend, though. So he lied. ‘I really need to make some time to test it out soon,’ he messaged, looking up with a forced smile.

At that same moment, the bell rang signally that it was time for them to make their way to class. “Let me know when you do! I want to hear all about it!” Ned said, as he hurriedly zipped up his bag.

Peter held up his thumb in agreement and then they both headed toward their respective classes.

At the end of the day, Peter said goodbye to both Ned and MJ before darting through the front doors. He was still being picked up on a regular basis, and he had to admit that seeing Tony was always a nice way to end the day.

“Hey, Kiddo! How was school?” Tony asked, as he slung his bag into the backseat and clamored into the front one. Once he was buckled in, he replied with a so-so wave of his hand.

“Just okay?” Tony questioned, concern clear in his voice. “That Flash kid giving you a hard time?”

Smiling, Peter shook his head and rolled his eyes. ‘Exams,’ he fingerspelled.

Tony chuckled and reached across the console to ruffle Peter’s hair. “Ah, So you were just bored all day, huh?” he asked, and Peter nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Well, maybe you should come down to the lab this afternoon. I’m confident we could make that plenty interesting,” Tony suggested, making Peter feel just a touch guilty. For the last couple of weeks, the only thing he’d really gone down into the lab for was to complete his homework. By doing his assignments and then skipping off, he was able to minimize the possibility of being confronted with the new Spider-suit. But apparently, the Spider-suit was exactly what Tony had in mind because the next thing out of his mouth was, “Plus you still haven’t tested the Spider-suit.”

#happyaspie writing #fostering hope series #fostercare au #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #pepper potts #peter parker #ned leeds #spider-man #iron man #marvel fanfiction #irondad #spiderson #ao3 #hurt/comfort #nightmares #self doubt

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everythingcanadian · 1 year

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Fandom: Downton Abbey Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent Additional Tags: Touch-Starved, Hugs, Pre-Relationship, or even the beginning of one, figuring out emotions and sexuality, Jimmy is bisexual and you can pry that from my hands, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, slight angst, Pre-Slash, Thomas gets some hope that isn't squished immediately Summary: Thomas is at the end of what is possibly a short rope among the many he has to navigate. Jimmy is there to cushion his fall.

Author Notes: It was supposed to be a short thing for Tumblr. Oops. No beta we die like writers. I was listening to Virginia to Vegas - Betterman and these lyrics hit me for this. It screams both Jimmy and Thomas. "I wanna be a better me, a better man A better lover, better brother, better friend Put myself back together again 'Cause I still got a couple loose ends"

Thomas had self imposed a rule for himself to not touch anyone if it can be helped after the incident and certainly not after Thirsk or the talk he had with Jimmy. But he knows he's barely keeping it together.

He's just too tired to deal with anything happening like that again. It was a long, extraordinarily long, year of prickles and barbs that he does not need a repeat of. So, he vows, he just would not touch, even if permission was granted. Sure there are some touches that even he won't say no to. Little ones from Anna which are nice, a small pat on his back or shoulder. Daisy if she's handing things over or being handed something. Mrs. Hughes is the one who holds his shoulders or arms sometimes on the really bad days to get him into a semblance of rightness.

But then- he avoids all other touch as much as he can.

The first time Jimmy leaned into him was almost 8 months after they started to become friends, after his cuts and bruises and scrapes had all healed up and his scars faded into nothing but small barely there patches or lines of alabaster.

It was that morning that Thomas looked like he was going to need more than tea or coffee.

The start of his day being rough and his sleep the night before was awful for no other reason than his dreams waking him at near every hour. He doesn't remember them but he knows he was disturbed throughout the night.

Then at breakfast he spills his tea down the front of his livery due to his hands shaking from overexertion the day before.

He had carried crates and boxes up and down the servant stairs yesterday and he overtaxed his arms, leaving them shaky when he lifted so much as a pen.

And when he was changing his soiled shirts and waistcoat out for clean ones he looked down to see he was missing a button on the next shirt he brought out from the drawer and so he took that one off and got yet another shirt. Already down two crisp white uniform shirts and his arms felt sore for going through the motions of putting them on twice over now.

When he finally changed and got back down to the hall he barely had time to think before he was looking at the little task list that had his name on it on the servant hall podium. To his surprise it was only 5 lines deep thus far and they were easy to do. He noticed two were scribbled out but they were not in his mind when he fixed his uniform on his body, tugging the tails into clean lines on his torso, and setting off to organize the next week of luncheon menus with Mrs Patmore.

He had walked in and promptly stepped on something sticky. Looking down it was honey and it trailed from larder to work bench to Mrs. Patmore's desk where a puddle of the sweet golden goo had been left momentarily. He saw Ivy getting a wash cloth ready and a maid just leaving to get a bucket of hot soapy water to clean the mess. But Thomas has gone and stepped in it. There's a broken honey pot on the back work bench and Daisy looking unimpressed at the drizzling trail.

Thomas sighs and steps back with his clean shoe and leans over to take the sticky one off, stepping out of the ruined one and letting his socked foot down onto the cold floor.

It's when he's walking unevenly to the boot room with a damp cloth himself that he sighs and wants to be alone in the quiet. He shoos the only hall-boy out of the boot room, silence settling blissfully for all of 5 minutes as he cleans the tacky sweet honey from the sole.

It's Jimmy who walks in with a couple pairs of men's shoes that need polishing up and his list is tucked into the laces of one of the pairs. And he sees Thomas sitting at the table, leaning over, and looking like he has a world of a head ache and the pinched face of someone who needs to scream until their lungs give out. He knows what he can do. It's foolish. But it's something. So he sets his work on the table opposite Thomas and round the edges towards his friend.

He's been avoiding touching Thomas for a long time now. As equal to the effort that Thomas had been avoiding touching him. He's seen how Thomas also avoids the others where Jimmy has no such qualms.

But they live in each other's back pocket and learning to be friends has gotten them closer quickly. Banter is sarcastic and witty, conversations are getting to a deeper level that requires a biscuit or two and a glass of milk if they can sneak it. So it's not a hardship when Jimmy, knowing Thomas is still besotted with him, sets the shoes down on the table top and comes up beside the chair Thomas is on.

Thomas sets his wet shoe down along with the cloth and looks up at Jimmy over his shoulder, silver eyes tired and sad. He's quiet, even now while Jimmy is close, his face quiet too by holding it neutral so nothing falters. Jimmy just steps behind him and enfolds Thomas into a hug. His arms go over Thomas's shoulders, almost like a piggy back ride. And he presses his cheek to the top of pomade slick hair. He doesn't care if he ends up sticky from brilliantine, he can suffer such a minor thing to comfort his best friend.

He wonders if he's made a mistake as Thomas is still silent, body still, but not unnaturally so like when they accidentally brush against the other.

It's moments before Jimmy feels little hot drops of salty tears on his clasped hands. It's silent when Jimmy feels them. The veneer of calm slowly breaking with thin fissures away from his eyes until Jimmy feels the slight shake of Thomas under his embrace and the sounds of hurt frothing up from the depths of Thomas's soul. He hears the little cracked and held back sobs of a very strung out man. Jimmy holds on tighter when Thomas's hand comes up to pat Jimmy's, only to hold them there and press back into the warmth. It should be pathetic how much Thomas is relying on him in this moment. But how could it be when the man is unraveling under nothing more than a weak excuse of a hug.

Jimmy sighs, humming quietly in sympathy. He knows the feeling of nothing going right, of pain behind the eyes and the back of the head, of a night of intermittent sleep, and over used muscles refusing to stop shaking the day after. Jimmy stays like a knapsack around Thomas's back. He even coos softly into the room for only Thomas's ears. The quiet words like a balm against Thomas's frazzled head. "You're alright, mate.", "I've got you.", "Let it happen, Thomas.", and "Sh sh sh sh. I'm here Thomas. Just me innit? And some boots that won't tell a single other sole." The play on words had Thomas choke out a laugh through his staccato and near whispered weeping, reaching up to wipe at his wet cheeks and sore eyes.

He groans at the mess he's made of himself and looks down as best he can through the blur to see Jimmy's hands now rubbing slow circles into his upper chest, comforting and calming. Thomas does not know what to make of this but he needs it. He craves it more than he knows and this is giving in to the need to have another person touch him, giving his mind and body the fuel it requires to survive. A simple human touch against his clothed skin.

"Thank you, Jimmy. I needed this." he croaks.

"Yeah? Hadn't noticed." He was only half serious. He sighs against the waxed strands of hair sticking to his smooth cheek and jaw. He wonders how a man like Mr. Barrow can collapse at small acts of human comfort. Then something dawns on him that he had thought of before. "When was the last time you had a proper cry? A hand to hold? A hug even? Someone touching you with more than a doctor's manner?"

Thomas scoffs and hiccups as all people do after crying. "Proper release was- that night everything else has been just quick or buttoned up. And as for a hug?" Thomas squirms a little in Jimmy's hold and causing the younger to move his arms just a little so that Thomas could take deeper breaths. "It may have been just after the war. Mrs Hughes saw me at my lowest then, I told you all that, but she held me when I broke down. That was how many years ago now?" He paused sniffling and coughing in order to get a semblance of control. "--its not often I get a chance to cuddle with a beau or to even shake a hand when it pleases me. You know me, blokes like my kind, touch is- well- not a light subject." Thomas sounds far away, nose plugged and throat sore now. "Queers are careful, Jimmy. One wrong look in anyone's direction and we're headed for the gallows." It was straight forward.

At this confession Jimmy feels an urgent need to take Thomas into his arms all proper like. He disentangles himself from Thomas, hearing the barely there gasp and resigned sigh before he's pulling the chair back. It takes a bit of effort but Thomas gets the picture and pushes it away from the table enough so that Jimmy can slide in front of him with the table pressing just so against his back. He slaps a hand lightly against the inside of Thomas's knee and steps in between them when they part at the request. He pulls Thomas into his chest, his arms going around the man and pressing against his back, fingers played and holding firmly.

The moment Thomas's head hits his chest he feels shivery limbs come up around his body and hold tight. Time is meaningless like this. And eventually he slides one hand up along Thomas's spine to dive in to pomade slick strands at the back of Thomas's head, cradling him. The shaky arms drop from his back only to slip in between his own uniform tails and his dress shirt, hands sinking into the body warm material and holding fast. It's wonderful to feel Thomas relax against him, to know that he's providing something good for his friend than something damaging.

He closes his eyes and rest his chin on top of styled hair that is slowly being ruined into a wild mess. He hums a soft melody that he thinks is Vivaldi but he very well could be wrong. All he knows it Thomas melts against him and he is more than happy to hold him up. He thinks Thomas has fallen asleep but the moment he does and he stops humming is when Thomas heaves a deep but satisfied sigh. The sound of fabric being brushed by fabric fills the room as they slowly extract from each other, enough to relax and look at each other. Before pulling away Thomas rubs his stubble lined jaw against Jimmy's chest, getting the last few moments of the steady beats of his love's heart in his head. Jimmy is slow to pull away, looking down at a swollen and tired eyed Thomas in his arms.

He does something even more stupid than holding his best mate. He kisses Thomas's forehead softly, smiling when he hears the deep, sated, roll of a moan bubble up from Thomas's chest when he pulls back.

He looks sleepy, contented like a cat in a sun beam swirling with dust that his tail has kicked up. The adoration in his steel grey eyes is almost palpable and Jimmy likes seeing it there. It's better than the fear, the hurt, and all the strain that Thomas has been through and is going through. It's not uncomfortable as he though it might be. It's warming.

"Better?"

Thomas isn't verbal yet, still tucked into his own mind with the comfort and surrounding love that Jimmy had placed like a blanket on him. He nods slowly. He makes his mouth move if only for one word. "Loads."

Jimmy smiles, a lazy version of the one he only gives Thomas. His voice is rumbley and soft, "Your head any better? Saw you squinting at breakfast."

As if taking stock of his body, Thomas looks straight at Jimmy's chest and pauses. "No." He looks back up at Jimmy, "throbbing actually." The light from the window does not help matters Jimmy decides.

"I'll get you some beecham's and some water. You can sit here all quiet like. Let yourself relax for the moment." He pulls away entirely. His jaw is tacky with Thomas's pomade and his hand is slick with it as it melted under the heat of his skin. Thomas huffs a laugh, eyes almost closing with how dry they must be. "Glad it's funny. Don't know how you can stand touching this junk."

Thomas just grins slowly, eyes going with it. He's slow and still raw, not nearly fixed as a little bit of hugging won't make the festering need go away.

Grabbing the still damp cloth that Thomas was using to get the honey off his sole he wipes his chin and cheek as best he can before going to leave to get what he needs for Thomas. Those grey eyes follow him blatantly as he shuffles out from Thomas's legs holding his hips and from the table digging into his back. "I'll come right back and we can talk while we clean the shoes I should have had done by now. I've come to not like how you look when you're- not down- but sad. No- Out of sorts. Maudlin?" He waves his sticky hand in the air as if it would dislodge the word for him. "When the world is not kind and you need a pal. We need to discuss how I can help. And I want to help, as much as I'm able for you. I've been thinking of what we said to each other that day. I'm not saying I can give everything- at least not yet if I'm going to be honest with you. I have a lot in my past that i need to bury or climb over. But we can get to that in time. For now, I want to take care of you and if that means cuddling up to my queer mate and crying along side him then so be it. I'll gladly take that if it lets you rest the gears in your mind." Jimmy strode to the door on light feet, opening it as quiet as he can and slipping out quickly to get what he needs for Thomas.

The under-butler sat, hunched a little, and stunned, but very much warmed and comforted by Jimmy assuring him that this was not a one time thing or that he was fleeing. No- this was another step in being comfortable. He stands up to bring his chair back to the table, reaching over to grab one of the pairs of shoes and he takes the one with Jimmy's list among the laces. At the bottom of the list in printed words is the two tasks Thomas had seen scribbled out in thick pencil strokes on the bottom of his own list. He smiles and knows that he won't end up pulling something in his arms or shoulders.

[Haul suitcases to the attic from the main hall closet. Take stock and organize the new books in the lesser library.]

#otp: thommy #thommy downton abbey #thommy #downton abbey cast #downton abbey #fic #my fic #it wasn't supposed to be this long tho

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toxiichxc13 · 1 year

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Maybe you should just fall

And leave the world and lose it all

And if that's what you need to finally see

I'll be with you through it all

Bring on the pills, roll the dollar bill

Medicating will never heal

Relapse, rehab, repeat

Always thinking about the me, me, me

Self-destruct, spiral down

Until your want becomes your need

Please get up like I know you can

Or forever love the fall, 'cause

I don't feel like I'm getting through to you

Let me paint this wheel

Life is short, my dear

Honestly this song will always hold a special place in my heart. Why you may ask? Well where do I start? How about we start it off by me introducing myself; I’m Killian. And I’m a recovering addict that’s been in recovery for 16.45 months or 1 year 4 months and 13 days. I was in and out of my addiction for 6.5-7 years.

Okay, now that a little background is out of the way; let’s go ALLLLLLLLLLLLL the way back to the beginning. I have a genetic condition that caused my body to create polyps all throughout my large intestine. And of course, my luck, they were so spread out that they couldn’t just remove a section of it. So October 6th, 2011, I had a total colectomy.

And thus my addiction to pain pills started. Throughout my hospital stay I was on a morphine drip that I could hit I don’t even remember how often. Then upon discharge I was prescribed Percocet and also got it refilled multiple times. Then my doctor knocked me down to Vicodin (Norco). Was prescribed this for a couple months after. Little did I know that I’d become addicted to the way they made me feel until I didn’t have them anymore.

That’s when I started doing whatever I could to find them. Didn’t matter. As long as I could get high, I didn’t care who I hurt in the process. I was a shit human being. I’d get sober for sometimes a few weeks to a few months. But then I’d fall right back into the same pattern. Relapse, rehab, repeat. Those lyrics were my life for almost 7 years. Minus the rehab part because I swore I could get sober myself. You know, like most addicts swear they can do. Yeah, I was that person. Anyway, getting off topic here.

So back to the topic, in 2014, my baby sister got diagnosed with cancer. And I got clean for a little bit, actually more like a year and a few months. Then February 6th, 2016, I got the phone call. I’ll never, ever, ever forget that day. I shouldn’t have had to bury my baby sister. I honestly hoped it was a nightmare but it wasn’t. And I spiraled back into the abyss. Only this time it was worse and I had kids involved. And a new wife that watched me get clean then stumble back down. I got worried that I was going to die this time. Then May of 2021, my wife at the time left me. June was a horrible month for me but then I said fuckkkkkk it.

July 1st, 2021, I got clean. I literally decided I was done with it and I haven’t looked back since. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve honestly thought about it. Especially when life started to spiral again. Little bit of context on that; in August of 2021 we got back together and tried to fix things. Things were going well and then things were slowly going back to how they were before. So May 9th, 2022, we ended things. Then May 15, 2022, my dad passed away. And damn did I want to relapse or turn to something heavier. But I fought those demons and won.

So I guess the whole point of this is, I’m proud of you! Whether you’ve been sober for 12 hours or 12 years. I’m proud of you! I know from firsthand experience that every day is a battle. Sometimes all you can accomplish is waking up and staying sober, but guess what; that’s more than enough. We do recover! We do get better! I’m living proof of that 🖤

#recovery #addiction #journey #Spotify

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yama951 · 2 years

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Snowpoint Settlement, Alabaster Icelands, Hisui Region, 1804 AC

Calaba knew the signs well. One didn't reach her age without experiencing at least one supernatural occurrence. The way Warden Ingo's eyes glowed in the dark, how the whites of his eyes glowed a soft blue when he was certain of the truth from time to time, the way he was just warm enough even when traversing the Alabaster Icelands at night in his tattered coat.

It was something the elders of the clan experienced once before and kept the knowledge to those who should be made aware of it, like Irida and some Wardens. Not Gaeric, and not Ingo. Lian would be told once he was older.

Calaba rested on Ingo's back as they headed back. The man had disassociated. She feared she broke the taboo when it came to someone like him, waking a dreaming god, but she knew that a god kept asleep for too long would cause more harm than good. Ingo was with them for a few years now, a lot longer than Gaeric's cold resilient father, he stayed for barely a year, but a god has their responsibility to the world to play. Much more important things to do than to play human in their long and deep sleep.

Ingo was silent when the linking cord her granddaughter made rang out. The whites of his eyes became a solid blue as he silently picked her up and automatically carried her all the way to the Snowpoint settlement without much of a word.

“I apologize for the deception, holy one.” She began on their trip. “But surely you must know you can't stay asleep forever.” silence was the reply. She sighed.

“This is a story that happened many years ago, forty years or so if my memory hasn’t failed me. You see, Lord Avalugg entered hibernation for the cold winter months. One year, he went to sleep a little too early, practically near the end of summer. We worried that he became ill or if age was coming to him early, or perhaps he simply wanted a nap after a hard year’s work, no one but Lord Avalugg knew the reason why. Then one autumn night, a sudden freak snowstorm struck. It lasted for an hour or two but when it ended, Lugvic appeared. He was like you in a way. Lost and no idea where he was. He couldn’t remember his name until a week among the Pearl Clan. Oh he was such a strong and handsome man with his icy blue hair and thick beard, that tanned brown skin, and those piercing yellow eyes. He quickly integrated into the clan as if he was born into it. He fell in love and married during the winter solstice. It was a happy life.” she gave a soft smile at the memories of the wedding. She then frowned as she continued.

“But I noticed strange things about him. I am a married woman and all but I was also one of the clan’s healers. I was the one who helped heal him up at the beginning. Lugvic’s skin remained cold to the touch no matter how hot the inside of the yurt could get. The most blatant of his strangeness was how he went around shirtless in the middle of winter as if it was a warm summer’s day. Those who noticed his oddness, mostly the elders, assumed he was some male froslass taking human form to live a happy life and it was better to stay quiet about it, lest sorrow and anguish struck the happy couple. They were deeply and truly in love. She was Lord Avalugg’s previous warden, before she stepped down due to her age, though I won’t leave my wardenship by something as silly as age. They were already planning on having a large family.”

She then sighed for a moment, her breath becoming visible as their surroundings slowly shifted into the Alabaster Icelands’ wintry embrace.

“Lord Avalugg stayed asleep at the start of spring, which was unusual for him. Lugvic helped as much as he could, even pulling the plow all by himself, but without Lord Avalugg’s strength, there would be less fields plowed and thus less food grown to keep starvation at bay in the coming winter. We asked a wise man from holy Michina for guidance and he, through a ritual, found that Lord Avalugg had entered a deep, deep sleep, a sleep so deep that their soul left their body and wandered out. We thought that Lord Avalugg had followed his ancestors, becoming one with the ice, but the wise man said that he was still alive, simply asleep, and that there was a way to awaken a sleeping god. I was then given the task by the wise man in private. To weave the colored strands into a braided rope with a bell on each end, the linking cord. The colors had to match the body and the spirit, to strengthen the bond between them enough to bring the spirit back into their body. So many colors, and even with the wise man’s allowance in making multiple cords, to make one that would awaken Lord Avalugg from his deep slumber was beyond me. But then, Almighty Sinnoh helped me one night. It was late at night as I was weaving another cord, the stress of multiple failures were getting to me. I had three strands that represented Lord Avalugg, one for the glacial ice, one for the rocky skin, and one for the sharp eyes. My thoughts then came to Lugvic, and thinking it would be another failure, I grabbed the threads that matched his hair, his skin, and his eyes. I wove them into a cord and attached a bell on each end. I then presented it to the wise man for another attempt at the ritual.”

Tears began to fall.

“It worked. With the ringing of the bell, Lord Avalugg was groused from his slumber, still asleep but his body was calling for his spirit to return, to awaken once more. We celebrated that night but I kept my eyes at Lugvic. He was sorrowful then. I think he knew what happened, that he became aware of his true status, that he became lucid. He promised her that should they have a son, she would name him Gaeric. My younger sister kept that promise. We partied until a freak snowstorm struck. Everyone fled back into the yurts, all but one. A young girl was lost in the sudden snow, screaming for help, and Lugvic ran out despite my sister’s plea. Before they parted, he hugged her tightly, kissed her a silent farewell, and promised that he would never forget her. He then ran off into the snowstorm. And once we lost sight of him in the snow, the snowstorm ended as suddenly as it appeared. The girl was found, safe and sound, with a familiar braided cord on her wrist, the ringing of the bells helped in finding her before the hyperthermia became serious. Lugvic, on the other hand, vanished just as he appeared. My sister was inconsolable for weeks. Until the tell-tale sign of pregnancy made her focus on the last reminder of Lugvic she had left.”

She then wiped away the tears before they could freeze.

“Gaeric was born a healthy baby boy, with some of his father’s features, especially the tolerance for the cold. One day, when I was alone before Lord Avalugg, I asked him if he remembered being Lugvic, of the love he shared with my sister, of all the plans and promises made that winter. Confusion was the only reply. As if he were nothing but a dream, Lord Avalugg recalled nothing of being Lugvic and even saw young Gaeric as nothing more than another child of the Pearl Clan, to play and entertain like all the other children. It was then I decided, for my sister’s sake. Let the elders whisper amongst themselves of Lugvic being a male froslass, this was a secret I would keep to my grave. My sister convinced herself that her love died saving the young girl. His body fell into the icy water and was swept away. Not realizing that Lugvic the man was the dream of Lord Avalugg himself. His promise to her was broken the moment he woke up, and yet she served him as his warden faithfully until she became too old to travel and had to step down. Only for Lord Avalugg to choose Gaeric as his next warden. And still I kept myself quiet.”

A sigh as the Snowpoint settlement became visible in the distance.

“I know you’re judging me with those blue eyes of yours, holy one. That my silence of Gaeric’s true heritage, the silence of the clan, is something that disgusts you. Do you think I should tell my sister and nephew the truth? That Lugvic, the man my sister loved so dearly that she never married again, was nothing more than a dream of Lord Avalugg? That Gaeric has the blood of a noble pokemon through his veins and that he serves his father without him knowing about it? That they were quickly forgotten despite Lugvic’s promise? Let them have that perfect ideal of him. That he was a strong and brave man who gave his life to save a child in need. That he was human even with all his quirks. That he was someone who was meant to be remembered, even if he was nothing more than a dream. That he was as real as anyone else. That he left his mark on the Pearl Clan. That he left a legacy through his son. That Lugvic the man would live on even if he was born of lies.”

The tears flowed out once more, only for a warm hearthfire touch to wipe them away and Ingo’s glowing blue eyes staring at her silently.

“For that’s what dreams are, isn’t it? Not real, not true, nothing but lies.”

A dream is not a Truth. But it can be a Truth made real. What is a lie, an Ideal, but a Truth yet to be made true?

Ingo seemed to speak through her mind, shocking her at the awesome and awful power, at the terrific and terrible strength, at the horrific and horrible Will.

Tell me, young Warden Calaba, are you dreaming right now?

The bells of Ingo’s linking cord, silent despite the shaking of his movements throughout the whole trip, rang out like a loud and sudden slam.

And Warden Calaba shot up from her bed with a sudden inhaling gasp.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she looked around. She was in her yurt back in the Snowpoint settlement, yet the moment between being brought to bed and being on Warden Ingo’s back some distance away was blank. As if something was Proclaimed to be true and so it was.

The door then opened as Gaeric entered the yurt. Shirtless as he usually went.

“Ah, auntie! You’re up! We were so worried about you! Warden Ingo carried you all the way from the mirelands. Mother thought your heart gave out from your duties.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m the older sister, she doesn’t need to baby me like I’m some wrinkly infant.”

Gaeric laughed at that.

“At least you’re feeling well then.” he said as he went to pour some water for her.

“Tell me, Gaeric.” she began. “Warden Ingo’s eyes, what color were they again?”

“Huh? They’re silver.”

“Were they silver when we arrived?”

“What sort of question is that? They were always silver. Sure they glow in the dark but I find that neat.”

Calaba snorted at that as she took a sip of water.

“Warden Ingo told us you ended up drinking a bit, hence why he had to carry you all the way from the Diamond Clan.” he said as she stared at her reflection in the ceramic cup.

“Warden Calaba?”

“I heard you the first time, no need to repeat yourself. So, where did Warden Ingo go? I doubt he would stay here for too long, what with that ruined coat of his.”

Gaeric laughed. It was a familiar laugh.

“Of course, he went back to the Coronet Highlands after he dropped you off. Still in his usual daze though.”

“Must have been a deep slumber…” she muttered much to Gaeric’s confusion.

“What was that?”

“Nothing but some elder nonsense you shouldn’t worry about. Now go, I’ll let my sister do the nagging. Aren’t you going to climb on Lord Avalugg’s back for a clean up or something?”

Gaeric laughed at that.

“No, no, just an early morning jog and swim before I begin my daily duties to Lord Avalugg.”

“Well, go jog around then. I’m perfectly capable of eating by myself.”

With a grin and a short respectful bow, her nephew ran out to jog shirtless in the snow and soon swim in the half frozen river.

She stayed silent at how much like Lugvic he was, not wanting him to disappear like a dream if she spoke out.

She would take the truth down to her grave, even if it gave that slumbering god their displeasure at her. Better the idealistic dream than the cynical truth.

#lucid twin dragons au #fanfic #world building #submas #pokemon fanfic #pokemon legends arceus #worldbuilding #fanfiction #submas au #my writing #subway master ingo #warden ingo #ingo #submas ingo #pokemon calaba #pla calaba #reshiram

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subir-astrologer · 6 months

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DHANTERAS SIGNIFICANCE

Dhanteras is a Hindu festival that celebrates the importance of wealth, health, and prosperity. It is observed on the thirteenth day of the dark fortnight in the month of Kartik, which usually falls in October or November. Dhanteras marks the beginning of the five-day Diwali festivities and is celebrated across the country with a lot of zeal.

Dhanteras derives its name from two words: ‘Dhan’, which means wealth, and ‘Teras’, which signifies the thirteenth day of the lunar fortnight. The festival has its roots in ancient Hindu mythology and is associated with two prominent legends.

One legend tells the story of the 16-year-old son of King Hima, who was destined to die on the fourth day of his marriage due to a snake bite. However, his clever wife prevented his death by placing all her gold and silver ornaments in a heap at the entrance of their room and lighting countless lamps. She also kept him awake throughout the night by singing songs and telling stories.

When the God of Death, Yama, arrived in the form of a serpent, he was dazzled by the brightness of the jewellery and the lamps and could not enter the room. He left without taking the prince’s life and thus the young couple was saved. This tradition of lighting lamps and buying new items, especially metals, is followed to ward off evil and bring good luck.

Another legend relates Dhanteras to the churning of the ocean, known as the Samudra Manthan, in pursuit of the nectar of immortality. During this churning, several divine gifts emerged, including the goddess of wealth, Lakshmi, and Dhanvantari, the physician of the gods.

Dhanteras is believed to be the day when Dhanvantari, an incarnation of Lord Vishnu, appeared with the knowledge of Ayurveda (traditional Indian medicine) to heal and bless humanity. He is also considered the originator of the science of surgery and is revered by doctors and medical practitioners. Dhanteras is also known as Dhanvantari Jayanti, the birthday of Lord Dhanvantari.

Dhanteras is a day for celebrating both material and spiritual wealth. People undertake various customs and rituals to seek the blessings of the goddess Lakshmi, Lord Kubera, the treasurer of the gods, and Lord Dhanvantari, the god of health.

On this auspicious day, houses are cleaned and decorated, and colourful rangoli designs adorn the entrances. The evening is dedicated to worshipping Lord Dhanvantari and goddess Lakshmi with prayers and devotional songs. One of the most significant customs on Dhanteras is buying and gifting precious metals, particularly gold and silver.

It is believed that acquiring new metal on this day brings prosperity and happiness to the household. Apart from gold and silver, people also buy copper, brass, iron, and steel utensils, appliances, and furniture. Some people also buy brooms, which are considered to sweep away poverty and misfortune.

Dhanteras is also a day for investing in business and making charitable donations. Many people start new ventures, expand their existing ones, or make long-term investments on this day. They also donate money, food, clothes, and other items to the poor and needy, as a way of expressing gratitude and generosity.

Dhanteras is also a day for self-care and wellness. People take care of their health, hygiene, and beauty by applying oil, turmeric, and sandalwood paste on their bodies, wearing new clothes and jewellery, and eating nutritious food. They also consult doctors, dentists, and ayurvedic practitioners for check-ups and treatments. They also avoid consuming alcohol, tobacco, and meat on this day, as a way of purifying their bodies and minds.

Dhanteras is a festival that symbolizes the harmony between the material and the spiritual aspects of life. It teaches us to value and respect the gifts of nature and the divine, and to use them for the benefit of ourselves and others. It also reminds us to be grateful, generous, and compassionate towards all living beings.

Dhanteras is a festival that inspires us to seek wealth, health, and prosperity in a balanced and ethical manner. It is a festival that prepares us for the grand celebration of Diwali, the festival of lights, joy, and victory.

#dhanteras #dhanteras festival #dhanteras hindu festival #dhanteras indian festival

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radiostick5 · 1 year

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Wild Definition & Meaning Things To Know Before You Get This

A history of one girl's 1,100-mile solo hike performed as a means to recoup coming from a current private tragedy.A chronicle of one female's 1,100-mile solo walking performed as a means to recoup coming from a recent individual disaster.A chronicle of one female's 1,100-mile solo trek performed as a means to recoup from a latest private misfortune. Review Included testimonial I Don't Care What They Claim.I Really Ased if This Movie! In this film, we know regarding how a lot of various other younger superstar got turned down from Hollywood prior to helping make the jump to Hollywood. We after that observe some movie background from some of them and listen to from some of them. We then hear some of the real labels of them being rejected. Some happen straight coming from various regions of Hollywood and are thus brand-new they might as well be from different movies! I am truly surprised at all of the negative testimonials listed here. This has actually to be a truly wonderful item. The package happens with a cover that I really don't yearn for to contact, and the product packaging is quite very nice. The quality of the items is incredibly really good. Some truly large things were created for this testimonial, just a little much less thus. In general I assume we would all such as much less plastic bundles, and the testimonials state that plastic is an reasonable selection.

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#Disappeared species #Reptiles #Birds #Marine

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divingarmy9 · 1 year

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Indicators on Wild Definition & Meaning You Need To Know

A history of one woman's 1,100-mile solo trek performed as a means to recuperate coming from a recent individual misfortune.A chronicle of one female's 1,100-mile solo walking undertaken as a way to recoup coming from a recent personal tragedy.A annals of one female's 1,100-mile solo trip taken on as a means to recoup from a latest personal tragedy. Review Featured review I Don't Care What They State.I Actually Ased if This Movie! In this docudrama, we discover concerning how many various other younger stars got refused coming from Hollywood prior to creating the dive to Hollywood. We after that observe some film record coming from some of them and listen to from some of them. We at that point listen to some of the actual names of them being turned down. Some happen right from various locations of Hollywood and are so brand new they may as effectively be from different films! I am truly surprised at all of the negative reviews right here. This has to be a definitely terrific item. The package comes with a cover that I in fact don't yearn for to contact, and the packing is quite very pleasant. The premium of the items is incredibly really good. Some actually big items were created for this customer review, just a little less so. On Read This believe we would all just like a lot less plastic plans, and the evaluations state that plastic is an satisfactory selection.

But after that I always remember, this is IMDb.com – it's not their major website, therefore a lot of various other firms provide identical solutions. I don't forget in a similar way as when I relocated to the last 5 years coming from Los Angeles, and went to one of the areas I understood as LA. (LA, yes!). My final year was around the same time that I started receiving fascinated in the business of streaming videos with my pals in real property. I enjoyed this movie very much. I will certainly watch it again. 7/10 : $15.95 I encourage this film to anyone who require to went through and delight in the tale without being overwhelmed. It's the biggest one I've viewed thus significantly, a ideal read for an lengthy reading of the account. The text makes me desire to see all of the negative individuals. It helps make me giggle out deafening and the ending creates me excited. I don't think it was anything additional than the tale of one lady attempting to discover a means to relocate onward. This has to be a story of one lady's lifestyle. For a guy, I presume that's one that he is all too knowledgeable with. If he was simply going to acquire back to where he began, he had to have some kind of individual engagement with his wife. The very first pair conversations at that aspect in their partnership were concerning the breakup that happened after. This flick is not a political claim concerning feminist movement. It is simply a celebration of women who have produced feminist sacrifices to progress their personal interests.". "I am writing this to share my very own private dissatisfaction and regret," she stated. While it was uncertain instantly whether Rose, a long-standing promoter of feminism, had been disallowed through the film's manufacturer, director Robert Greenblatt, whose movie variation was dispersed by Warner Bros, a agent said that he had never ever been educated. This is ONE female's account of remorse, healing, and ultimately concerning forgiving herself so that she could possibly move onward. We can wish and pray that everyone will be alright and realize that she is not the personification of the sense and that her story will not vanish permanently. I really hope to find even more of the same at the beginning of the next married couple of months after the end of what I've carried out to my household, I really hope those people are going to continue carrying out that and begin healing as well. Only if you need CGI and superheroes to phone it "amazing.". When speaking regarding how CGI produced for an appealing account, you probably receive all this interest because every opportunity you chat about something that took place in area in a film, you obtain that reaction in the space-movie world—a major yawn. To take what Marvel could have probably done and help make it an stimulating tale, they likewise made the CGI. If that has you excited, check out out the second clip beneath. Do individuals perform truly adventurous traits like taking off alone on a thousand kilometer hike on foot? It's like trek. And I'm not presuming of performing it or going anywhere. It's not going to occur. And it never will. When you go outside it's like the very first point you claim to a unfamiliar person. It creates feeling for us not to be involved. It's all going to be the journey. It's not gonna be my following time carrying out something.

#Disappeared species #Reptiles #Birds #Marine

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eshatiarp · 2 years

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The Kingdom of San is the furthest out, living in the rocky mountains of Eshatia. It’s home to shapeshifters of all kinds. The conditions are harsher due to them being higher up and so the people can tend to be a bit harsher in their views. They are almost never seen in Sanyangteo, only a couple will arrive once a month to trade and get food for the rest of the pack. Thus many of them aren’t well known by the rest. Though, the newer generation is getting online and trying to make friends outside of their pack.

San is ruled by an Alpha King and Alpha Queen. Unlike the other kingdoms where if a member killed their king and queen would just fall to the next in line, killing the Alpha King and Alpha Queen is the way to take over the kingdom. If no one challenges them or wins in a challenge then the title of Alpha is passed down to their children. It can make for strained relationships. If you lose a challenge, you are cast out of the kingdom, but your children are allowed to stay.

𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓮𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼

Shapeshifters come in all different sizes. There are dragon shifters, werewolves, kitsune (fox shifters, or even cheetah shifters. When two shapeshifters fall in love they aren’t bound to their own type. However, their children will take on the shifting ability of whichever parent has the stronger genes. A dragon shifter with a wolf shifter would produce a dragon shifter child. This is only different if the parent with the stronger shifter side is half of what the other parent is as well. Meaning, a dragon shifter who has a dragon and wolf parent mating with a wolf shifter would produce a wolf shifter child - 75% of the DNA going into the child is wolf shifter.

Shapeshifters were believed to be run by wolf shifters in the beginning. Back when you were only allowed to mate with your shifter type. That has long since changed and due to that the Alpha’s are not restricted to being one shifter type.

As their name suggests, they have the ability to shapeshift into their designated animal. They also have an increased healing ability. However, shapeshifters are against the smell of vampires and can’t handle silver. Silver will burn them if it comes in contact with them. Something that the humans used to exploit. However, vampires also don’t like silver and so it isn’t typically around in Sanyangteo anymore (only available to the 1%).

Vampires don’t like the taste of shapeshifter blood so they may be the only ones able to be around them for any length of time, however they dislike the smell of vampires and thus the two aren’t known to intermingle. To visit shapeshifters you have to be invited, it is hard to find their homes in the mountains and you would need a guide to get there without getting lost. They aren’t quite as strict as the fae with checking people who come in, but they also don’t typically allow others to visit.

Shapeshifters can be born as one from their parents or they are able to turn humans and other supernatural creatures (except vampires). It doesn’t always take with another supernatural like it would for a human. It’s an agonizing process to be turned and so it’s not typically something that someone would willingly choose to do.

𝒜𝓁𝓅𝒽𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔: 𝒜𝓁𝓅𝒽𝒶 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃: 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒(𝓈): 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈(𝑒𝓈):

#new krp #fantasy krp #krp promo #jcink #krp #krp starter #krp buzz #rp buzz #rp promo

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my-fanfic-library · 2 years

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Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [36]

Masterlist

A/N: hello, yes, our beloved Draccyboi is home, and so am I! I’m going to bore nOBODY with a long A/N right now because we all know Reader is about to do something very stupid. I am going to direct you guys (especially my older readers) to the new addition to the masterlist, which is a comprehensive recap of all of the chapters thus far (bar the two I posted yesterday) so that you guys don’t need to reread like 33 chapters lol, (and also Drac left a quick note for you guys yesterday to read in place of a whole essay from yours truly)...aAAANNDD all I shall say for this one is... we got angst.

Warnings: gore

~^*^~

You decided to rid yourself of Jack’s clothes in the silence of the penthouse - which was only broken occasionally by the same soft thuds and scratches that came from upstairs. It didn’t sound like birds at all. Maybe at the beginning, when you had first asked, your mind could have been coerced into a kind of placebo, believing it was birds. But not anymore. Not when Dracula spent so much hidden time away up there. It sounded... it sounded near to human, you thought as you left the bedroom, dressed once more in your own attire.

Maybe it was Dracula upstairs, hidden away and unable to hear you with the door closed. As you climbed the stairs, you called out his name once more, still receiving no response. The soft thud behind the confines of the door had ceased, and it almost deterred you from reaching the apex of the stairs. Almost.

When you reached the door, you pressed your ear firmly against it. As if you were sensed, the soft thudding picked up once more.

“....D-Drac...?” You called out, barely over a whisper.

When the vampire still did not reply, you knew that you were alone. Your fingers curled around the door handle, and you pushed... The door didn’t budge. A soft click resounded when you let go and the door mechanism shot back into place. Weird. The door wasn’t locked, so why wouldn’t it open? Once more, you turned the handle, this time applying the weight of your body to pressure the door into swinging inwards. There was a dull crack, right from the other side of the door, but it only widened by a couple of centimetres.

Had the door been barricaded from the inside...?

The door mechanism sounded once more as you let go of the handle. You shook your arm, readying yourself. You had come too far to give up now. The fact that the door was blocked from the inside seemed to spur you on. What was Dracula hiding? Why was he trying so hard to keep it hidden?

One more time, you twisted the handle, and then forced your entire body into the door, once, twice, three times. Suddenly, you tumbled forwards as the door gave way, and you gasped as you stumbled to catch your footing.

You turned to look at the door, which had bounced back from the wall and was sitting ajar. It has two large planks of wood, splintered on the end where the door had burst open, nailed into it. You gulped at the sight. Something in his room was being kept in, and by the size of all of the boxes lined around the perimeter of the room, and the two sitting in the centre... you had a guess. You spotted the same journal that Jack had many months prior, and you plucked it up.

‘Date: September 18 - specimen M

Unresponsive, as expected. Unable to heal bite correctly, but clearly still capable of surviving.’

What... was this...?

‘Date: October 13’

Hold on... you were in Italy with Dracula on this date... had he come back here...? This I was certainly his handwriting.

‘Specimen C is much more responsive than the others, though no L. It seems that willingness to submit plays a much more important factor in bridification that I first thought.’

Oh no...

Oh no, no, this... this was his hiding hole for his... experiments... He was still trying to find a suitable bride.

All kinds of emotions suddenly threatened to bubble over the edge as you slammed the journal shut and placed it back on the box with some force. Your eyes darted around the room, looking at the boxes. You tried to count them, but there were so many. One of them started scratching once more, and the curiosity, despite the fear, seemed to pull you towards it.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Your head spun over your shoulder, followed by your body, finding Lucy stood at the door. Her mangled body was just as you remembered seeing it last time, smoking just a little around the edges. God, she was repulsive.

“Lucy...” you whimpered, unsure if you were afraid of her or begging her to help you.

“I really would just run if I were you, [First]. I tried to warn you...” Lucy hissed, a black substance dripping from her lips, “look at what he did to me... he’ll do it to you too... do you believe me now...?” Her voice cracked through the air, piercing your ears. She sounded like she was whispering and screaming all at once.

“Help me...” you were about to cry, you could feel the best rush to your cheeks, your heart beating quickly.

“Look in the boxes, [First]... see how much he truly loves you... look and see your future... and then help yourself and LEAVE!” Lucy wailed, disappearing into mist.

You turned your head back to the boxes, it seemed Lucy’s presence, real or not, had surged many of them into life. Howls contained within the wood split into the air, the thuds were coming from almost every box, not in time with each other at all. Your heart was racing. You neared one, with the branding “M” on the side of the box. You gulped, closing in on it. There was a single hole in the middle of the box, identical to all of the others around the room. Just as you stepped to the right, just to let the light shine directly into the hole, an eye appeared. A scream ripped through your lungs, watching as this box, wedged tightly between a dozen others, began to rock.

The wails around you grew louder, and you stumbled over your feet. You turned, sprinting out of the door just in time to hear an almighty crash, and suddenly the wails were louder than ever. They were right behind you. His brides.

“[First]?!” You heard Dracula call your name, rushing into the penthouse. He looked up, dreading the worst as he saw you collide with the balcony, just gripping onto the metal handrail in time to prevent yourself from tumbling over, “what are you doing up there?!” He roared, bounding towards the stairs.

He could hear the grumbles and the cries of his many brides, mostly almost successful, but not quite there.

You turned to face the stairs, watching as Dracula made his way towards you with haste. Then, there was a hand on your shoulder, pulling you backwards and you turned, just enough to see Mark’s face, mangled and blood-stained. You let out another scream, seeing Chelsea behind him, limping out of the room, her neck covered in Dracula’s bites. Mark had a hard grip on you, tugging you into him, and Dracula panicked as he reached the landing.

Mark suddenly tugged harder, and then more hands were on you as you were forced backwards, legs kicking as you tried to dig your heels into the floor to prevent them from pulling you back into the darkness.

“NO!” You screamed.

At your cries, Dracula rushed towards you, his large hands grasping for you.

“OFF!” he bellowed, pumping his limbs harder to reach you.

The mangled bodies of Dracula’s brides were swarming you, tugging at your hair, your clothes, your skin. If you were cut even a tiny bit, shed even one droplet of blood, they would tear you to pieces. You shook your limbs, trying to free yourself from their grasps. But, you just weren’t strong enough, your knees crumpling beneath you as you sunk to the floor. Sobs ripped through your lungs, hoarse cries of sheer terror and resignation as you realised this was the end. You could see Dracula’s face, seething and red as he bared his fangs. Your head was yanked back, and you were forced to look up at Chelsea. Her face had become tight and gaunt, skin much more paler than it ever had been, leathery and having lost its life.

Dracula pushed on, ripping away the bodies one by one, making sure to tear off their heads as he did so. They weren’t quite vampires, yet, so there was no way for them to resurrect after decapitation. A crimson mist settled in the air as Dracula drove his enormous body into the crush. He needed to reach you and fast. All of his creations were hungry, starving even. They wanted blood. They wanted your blood. He knew that the entire time you had been in the penthouse, they had smelled your blood. They had been drooling, driving themselves crazy at the scent. It was so sweet, so tantalising. It left the tongue soaked. If he, a true vampire often had trouble holding himself back, he knew these half-brides would not be able to do the same. They would rip you apart, shred your skin to ribbons, lap up every succulent drop of blood your body had to offer.

He could hear you screaming beneath the bodies, spurring him on to keep tearing away at the flesh. You continued to push back against the hands, uncontrollably sobbing as you tried to give yourself time, give Dracula time to pull you out. Blood was oozing beneath their feet, a sign that the vampire was working overtime to get you out quickly. Soon enough, there were maybe four or five brides left, including both Mark and Chelsea. A large, icy hand grasped your arm firmly and pulled you up, into Dracula’s torso, but as he came to rest his head on top of yours, you pushed away, wanting to get as far away from him as you could.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed, giving Dracula an icy glare through your bloodshot eyes.

“[First]-“ Dracula began coolly.

“NO! Don’t- don’t you touch me! Ever again! How could you do this?!” You gestured to the other brides, all of the, standing behind Dracula, growling and hissing at you, but knowing better than to go too close to their master.

“[First], listen to me, please, I told you not to go in there-!” Dracula was already growing angry once more. More so at himself for being so foolish than at you.

“What, so you could see if I’d be a great addition to your experiments, huh?! SO I’D BE WILLING FOR YOU TO TURN ME?! SO I WOULD BE THE PERFECT BRIDE?!” You wailed through your tears, stepping backwards, through the blood pooling on the floor, towards the edge of the stairs.

Dracula blinked at you. He didn’t know how to respond to those accusations. Him not wanting to turn you because he knew you deserved better than undeath was truthful. He did not want to curse you with having to live for all eternity, half empty and soulless like himself.

Behind you, on the stairs, all of a sudden, there was an apparition. It was Lucy, this time human, and as beautiful as she had once been. She stood on the top step, so just a little lower down than you, and she had a sinister look on her face. You did not seem to notice her presence.

“What did you say to her?” Dracula growled. You stared at him, noticing his gaze was behind you.

“The truth, Count Dracula,” Lucy taunted, her voice low and hissing, “you are nothing but a monster, no matter how human she makes you feel, you are a monster. You will always resort to your playthings - to your brides. If you won’t let her go, I will.”

To you, the sensation was like tripping over your feet all of a sudden, merely losing your balance. However, to Dracula, the truth was as clear as day. Lucy reached up, tugging hard on the back of your shirt, yanking you backwards. As your arms flailed, they seemed to bat her right out of existence and you tumbled backwards, down the stairs.

Dracula screamed, rushing to grasp you, but it was too late, you collapsed into a ball at the bottom of the stairs. The Count was frozen in place. He watched you carefully. You didn’t move. You didn’t even seem to be bleeding. Immediately, the tears welled up in his eyes. The sound behind him, the sound of his stupidity, of his obsession with having a lifelong partner, it rang loud in his ears. With an animalistic scream, he turned, lunging for the undead Mark as his talon-like fingernails turned his flesh to ribbons.

Until every last bride of his was utterly destroyed, Dracula continued his ferocious outburst, unable to suppress the anger that filled him up. Every particle of his being was red. Red. Red. Red.

And then it was gone, as quickly as it had came. He turned towards the stairs, dripping head to toe in blood, and was frozen once more.

You were gone.

“[First]!” Dracula called out, throwing his legs over the glass balcony of the landing and hitting the floor below. His eyes traced the room, finding your form haunched over at the front door. You were trying to open it, but something was wrong, “are you alright?” Dracula asked quietly, as he came to a stop behind you.

“Leave me alone....” you gasped, trying once more for the door.

“[First], you’re injured, let me look at you, darling.”

“Don’t... call me that.” You were trying to be stern, but you were gasping for breath, unable to hold your body up.

“Look at me.” Dracula ordered lowly. You did not comply.

“I will never look at you again.” You vowed in a whisper. You could hold your body up no more, sinking down to the floor to lean against it. Dracula watched you twist your head away, so that you didn’t have to look at him, but your body was sprawled out in his direction. Your left arm was bent at an awkward angle as you clutched it to your body with your right. There was a large gash on your temple, blood streaming down your face, cradling your jaw and slowly inching down your neck. There was also something poking out of your shirt... fuck... was that a rib?

“My sunlight, you are injured, please let me take a look at you, I can’t leave you like this.” Dracula’s voice was hushed as he knelt down, eyeing your body. You were in a bad state.

“Get away from me.” You chocked, “how could you do that...? To Mark...? To Chelsea...? How could you do that to me?” A stray tear slipped down your cheek. Dracula had never felt this emotion before. Was it remorse? He didn’t quite know.

“Darling, please, you need to understand...” Dracula trailed off. How could he explain any of this?

“How could I possibly understand, Dracula?” You sighed, “was I not enough for you, even though temporary...?” Your voice grew quieter. Dracula watched as you struggled to keep your eyes open, “I thought after Renfield... after Lucy... you’d stop... but... you...” you had no more energy to give, your body finally shutting down. Pain throbbed in your head, your arm, your chest. The edges of your vision began to speckle with darkness. You couldn’t even hold your head away from Dracula’s direction, so the last thing you saw as your ears begun to ring and your vision completely fade was Dracula, crying, reaching out to clutch you close to him.

~^*^~

“Get the fuck out before I rip your head off.” Jack spat, pacing down the hallway towards the vampire. He sent the taller man a most disgusted look, and continued pacing forwards as he waited for a reply.

“Jack, I’m not leaving her-“ Dracula argued quietly.

“Yes the fuck you are. I swear to god, Dracula, stay the fuck away from her.” At the beginning of his sentence, Jack had reached close proximity to the vampire, and had reached up to grasp the collar of his shirt. Dracula emitted a low growl from deep in his chest, balling his fists.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, if you are going to cause a scene I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you both to leave.” A nurse appeared, looking rather reluctant in her words. Her eyes were blown wide, eyebrows turned up in worry. Jack immediately dropped the cloth in his hands, stepping back as to suggest he would go no further.

“Sorry, I’ll go back inside to [First].” Before Jack could get a grip on Dracula’s shirt, the Count had slipped back into the hospital room.

It had been just yesterday that you had discovered Dracula’s... collection, and you had yet to wake up. Dracula had ran through London city with you in his arms, crying in the fear that the damage was done, that you had succumbed to your injuries. If it weren’t for your pulse, Dracula would have believed that you were gone. The doctor had told Dracula that you were lucky. A big gash on the head and no signs of brain damage, a broken rib that had slightly dislodged yet not touched your lungs, and your broken arm that had barely missed the main artery that would have killed you within a few hours. Lucky didn’t even begin to cover it.

Since bringing you into the hospital, Dracula had paced around while the doctors had rushed you into surgery to fix your rib into place and check over you, and once he knew you were okay, had left for only 10 minutes (he had been guilty of shape shifting into a bat to avoid traffic) to wash the blood from his clothes and change. Of course, doctors had seen him dripping head to toe in blood, and in all honesty, he had no idea how he had managed to convince them to leave him be. After he had changed, he hadn’t left your side, until the ward had been called, asking that anybody in Miss [Last]’s room was removed. And then Jack had showed up to confront the vampire.

Looking down at your sleeping form, Dracula sighed.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I am so sorry.” He cooed, gently grasping your hand in his own, “how stupid could I have been?”

Your warmth radiated through his hand, and eased slowly up his arm. The feeling was now so familiar to him, so comfortable, but he still relished in it, especially now. He truly hoped that you had been delirious with pain when you had pushed him away. He hoped that you hadn’t meant any of the words that you had said.

His mind wandered back to those warmer months when he had been able to so secretly keep those many failed brides hidden from you. Truthfully, he had been collecting ever since he had first left the cold north for London. He had not expected to have acquired so many... and in all honesty, Chelsea and Mark had been... well, sick creations. Just to see if he could. God, he wished he could repent. He wished he could take it call back.

A sensation pulled him back to earth - your hand squeezing his. It was his gravity, grounding him as he looked down at your face. Your head was tilted a little, facing him almost perfectly. The sunlight from the window behind him streamed lovingly onto your face, casting you in angelic light. He watched as your lips curved down into a frown, eyebrows furrowing from the bright light. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open.

“Drac...?” Your voice was hoarse and soft.

“Shh, darling, you don’t need to speak.” Dracula reached forwards, caressing your cheek. You were burnt up, likely from the medicine.

“I...”

“Shhh, it’s okay, darling. Do you remember what happened?” All of Dracula’s features were softened as he looked at you. As you blinked up at him, you couldn’t help but feel like he truly adored you. You squinted your eyes in thought, Dracula slowly rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

“I...” could you remember what happened? You remembered someone pulling at your back right as you fell, you were sure of it...

“It’s alright, I’m here.” Drac whispered. As his voice lulled you, flashes of yesterday came to your mind. The room, the stairs.

“.... I don’t want you here...”

“You don’t mean that...” he countered gently.

“Yes I do... I can’t trust you...” your eyes begun to well up. No matter what you did, no matter how close you were to him, Lucy was right. Your fate was going to be sealed in one of those boxes, doomed to be a failed bride.

“No, don’t say that, it’s all a misunderstanding.” Dracula’s own voice was still soft, so gentle, like he was afraid of you. Carefully, you lifted your hand to remove his touch.

“Don’t do that, Dracula,” you chocked, trying hard to not start crying, “don’t manipulate me like you always do. All you do is let me down... Lucy, Zoe, Daniel, Mark, Chelsea... You lied to me over and over again, you came back to England while we were in Italy, didn’t you? I don’t know what exactly it is you want from me, what kind of sick game you’re playing, but I won’t play it anymore. I don’t want to become like Mark, like Lucy. I want to live. I want to live knowing the man I love would never have a room full of corpses ready to fucking feast on me.”

“Listen to me, [First], you’re all over the place because of the drugs-“ Dracula tried to reason, now holding his own tears back. But you refused to listen to him. This was the final straw.

“No, Dracula, you listen to me. You need to go. You knew those brides were dangerous for me, fuck, some of them were people I knew and cared about-“ you stopped yourself as your voice cracked, tears near the brink, “I can outrun Renfield. I know I can. I don’t need you anymore. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“...no...” Dracula whispered, “I can’t leave you. I... you can’t.”

“I’m not giving you a choice. Please just get out, I can’t bear to look at you anymore.” Slowly, painfully, you turned your head away from him, as well as your heart.

~^taglist^~

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be-gay-do-heists · 3 years

Text

hello yall :) the holy month of elul started last night, which is typically a time for contemplation, so since it is impossible for me to stop thinking about leverage, i decided to write an essay. hope anyone interested in reading it enjoys, and that it makes at least a little sense!! spoilers for leverage redemption

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Leverage, Judaism, and “Doing the Work”: An Essay for Elul

When it comes to Elul and the approaching High Holidays, Leverage might seem like an odd topic to meditate on.

The TNT crime drama that ran from 2008-2012, and which released a new season this summer following its renewal, centers on a group of found-family thieves who help the victims of corporations and oligarchs (sometimes based on real-world examples), using wacky heists and cons to bring down the rich and powerful. In one episode, the team’s clients want to reclaim their father’s prized Glimt piece that had been stolen in the Shoah and never returned, but aside from this and the throwaway lines and jokes standard for most mainstream television, there’s not a ton textually Jewish about Leverage. However, despite this, I have found that the show has strong resonance among Jewish fans, and lots of potential for analysis along Jewish themes. This tends to focus on one character in particular: the group’s brilliant, pop culture-savvy, and personable hacker, Alec Hardison, played by the phenomenally talented Aldis Hodge.

I can’t remember when or where I first encountered a reading of Hardison as Jewish, but not only is this a somewhat popular interpretation, it doesn’t feel like that much of a leap. In the show itself, Hardison has a couple of the aforementioned throwaway lines that potentially point to him being Jewish, even if they’re only in service of that moment’s grift. It’s hard to point to what exactly makes reading Hardison as Jewish feel so natural. My first guess is the easy way Hardison fits into the traditional paradigms of Jewish masculinity explored by scholars such as Daniel Boyarin (2). Most of the time, the hacker is not portrayed as athletic or physical; he is usually the foil to the team’s more physically-adept characters like fighter Eliot, or thief Parker. Indeed, Hardison’s strength is mental, expressed not only through his computer wizardry but his passions for science, technology, music, popular media, as well as his studious research into whatever scenario the group might come up against. In spite of his self-identification as a “geek,” Hardison is nevertheless confident, emotionally sensitive, and secure in his masculinity. I would argue he is representative of the traditional Jewish masculine ideal, originating in the rabbinic period and solidified in medieval Europe, of the dedicated and thoughtful scholar (3). Another reason for popular readings of Hardison as Jewish may be the desire for more representation of Jews of color. Although mainstream American Jewish institutions are beginning to recognize the incredible diversity of Jews in the United States (4), and popular figures such as Tiffany Haddish are amplifying the experiences of non-white Jews, it is still difficult to find Jews of color represented in popular media. For those eager to see this kind of representation, then, interpreting Hardison, a black man who places himself tangential to Jewishness, in this way is a tempting avenue.

Regardless, all of the above remains fan interpretation, and there was little in the text of the show that seriously tied Judaism into Hardison’s identity. At least, until we got this beautiful speech from Hardison in the very first episode of the renewed show, directed at the character of Harry Wilson, a former corporate lawyer looking to atone for the injustice he was partner to throughout his career:

“In the Jewish faith, repentance, redemption, is a process. You can’t make restitution and then promise to change. You have to change first. Do the work, Harry. Then and only then can you begin to ask for forgiveness. [...] So this… this isn’t the win. It’s the start, Harry.”

I was floored to hear this speech, and thrilled that it explained the reboot’s title, Leverage: Redemption. Although not mentioned by its Hebrew name, teshuvah forms the whole basis for the new season. Teshuvah is the concept of repentance or atonement for the sins one has committed. Stemming from the root shuv/shuva, it carries the literal sense of “return.” In a spiritual context, this usually means a return to G-d, of finding one’s way back to holiness and by extension good favor in the eyes of the Divine. But equally important is restoring one’s relationships with fellow humans by repairing any hurt one has caused over the past year. This is of special significance in the holy month of Elul, leading into Rosh haShanah, the Yamim Noraim, and Yom Kippur, but one can undertake a journey of redemption at any point in time. That teshuvah is a journey is a vital message for Harry to hear; one job, one reparative act isn’t enough to overturn years of being on the wrong side of justice, to his chagrin. As the season progresses, we get to watch his path of teshuvah unfold, with all its frustrations and consequences. Harry grows into his role as a fixer, not only someone who can find jobs and marks for the team, but fixes what he has broken or harmed.

So why was Hardison the one to make this speech?

I do maintain that it does provide a stronger textual basis for reading Hardison as Jewish by implication (though the brief on-screen explanation for why he knows about teshuvah, that his foster-parent Nana raised a multi-faith household, is important in its own merit, and meshes well with his character traits of empathy and understanding for diverse experiences). However, beyond this, Hardison isn’t exactly an archetypical model for teshuvah. In the original series, he was the youngest character of the main ensemble, a hacking prodigy in the start of his adult career, with few mistakes or slights against others under his belt. In one flashback we see that his possibly first crime was stealing from the Bank of Iceland to pay off his Nana’s medical bills, and that his other early hacking exploits were in the service of fulfilling personal desires, with only those who could afford to pay the bill as targets. Indeed, in the middle of his speech, Hardison points to Eliot, the character with the most violent and gritty past who views his work with the Leverage team as atonement, for a prime example of ongoing teshuvah. So while no one is perfect and everyone has a reason for doing teshuvah, this question of why Hardison is the one to give this series-defining speech inspired me to look at his character choices and behavior, and see how they resonate with a different but interrelated Jewish principle, that of tikkun olam.

Tikkun olam is literally translated as “repairing the world,” and can take many different forms, such as protecting the rights of vulnerable people in society, or giving tzedakah (5). In modern times, tikkun olam is often the rallying cry for Jewish social activists, particularly among environmentalists for whom literally restoring the health of the natural world is the key goal. Teshuvah and tikkun olam are intertwined (the former is the latter performed at an interpersonal level) and both hold a sense of fixing or repairing, but tikkun olam really revolves around a person feeling called to address an injustice that they may have not had a personal hand in creating. Hardison’s sense of a universal scale of justice which he has the power to help right on a global level and his newfound drive to do humanitarian work, picked up sometime after the end of the original series, make tikkun olam a central value for his character. This is why we get this nice bit of dialogue from Eliot to Hardison in the second episode of the reboot, when the latter’s outside efforts to organize international aid start distracting him from his work with the team: “Is [humanitarian work] a side gig? In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work… you’re the only one, man.” The character who most exemplifies teshuvah reminds Hardison of his amazing ability to effect change for the better on a huge stage, to do some effective tikkun olam. It’s this acknowledgement of where Hardison can do the most good that prompts the character’s absence for the remainder of the episodes released thus far, turning his side gig into his main gig.

With this in mind, it will be interesting to see where Hardison’s arc for this season goes. Separated from the rest of the team, the hacker still has remarkable power to change the world, because it is, after all, the “age of the geek.” However, he is still one person. For all that both teshuvah and tikkun olam are individual responsibilities and require individual decision-making and effort, the latter especially relies on collective work to actually make things happen. Hardison leaving is better than trying to do humanitarian work and Leverage at the same time, but there’s only so long he can be the “only one” in the field before burning out. I’m reminded of one of the most famous (for good reason) maxims in Judaism:

It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it. (6)

Elul is traditionally a time for introspection and heeding the calls to repentance. After a year where it’s never been easier to feel powerless and drained by everything going on around us, I think it’s worth taking the time to examine what kind of work we are capable of in our own lives. Maybe it’s fixing the very recent and tangible hurts we’ve left behind, like Harry. Maybe it’s the little changes for the better that we make every day, motivated by our sense of responsibility, like Eliot. And maybe it’s the grueling challenge of major social change, like Hardison. And if any of this work gets too much, who can we fall back on for support and healing? Determining what needs repair, working on our own scale and where our efforts are most helpful, and thereby contributing to justice in realistic ways means that we can start the new year fresh, having contemplated in holiday fashion how we can be better agents in the world.

Shana tovah u’metukah and ketivah tovah to all (7), and may the work we do in the coming year be for good!

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(1) Disclaimer: everybody’s fandom experiences are different, and this is just what I’ve picked up on in my short time watching and enjoying this show with others.

(2) See, for example, the introduction and first chapter of Boyarin’s book Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (I especially recommend at least this portion if you are interested in queer theory and Judaic studies). There he explores the development of Jewish masculinity in direct opposition to Christian masculine standards.

(3) I might even go so far as to place Hardison well within the Jewish masculine ideal of Edelkayt, gentle and studious nobility (although I would hesitate to call him timid, another trait associated with Edelkayt). Boyarin explains that this scholarly, non-athletic model of man did not carry negative associations in the historical Jewish mindset, but was rather the height of attractiveness (Boyarin, 2, 51).

(4) Jews of color make up 20% of American Jews, according to statistics from Be’chol Lashon, and this number is projected to increase as American demographics continue to change: https://globaljews.org/about/mission/.

(5) Tzedakah is commonly known as righteous charity. According to traditional authority Maimonides, it should be given anonymously and without embarrassment to the person in need, generous, and designed to help the recipient become self-sufficient.

(6) Rabbi Tarfon, Pirkei Avot, 2:16

(7) “A good and sweet year” and “a good inscription [in the Book of Life]”

#leverage #miko speaks #jewish stuff #jumblr #leverage redemption #spoilers #lr spoilers #leverage redemption spoilers #written for a non leverage audience because i want my rabbi to read it alskdjflaksdjf #elul

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