#so he does the same process on someone who got blighted

[ibuprofinator]

what if i just kill alistair in ilya's canon

[sha-brytols]

there's this phenomenon i like to talk about in regards to da2 and how i feel like it might shed light on how the game is handled through the writers.

there's banter between bethany and merrill where bethany offhandedly mentions how her father died during the blight.

this banter is talked about a Lot because the clear discrepancy between this line and what we know of malcolm hawke. every other piece of information about him has shown that he died of a mysterious illness before the start of the blight, 3 years before the prologue of dragon age 2. clearly this is a huge oversight from the writers, but How does something that glaringly obvious and wrong even make it to the game? even if we assume that it was just an accident, how do you possibly even write something like that by accident? did the writer behind this line just make up a death for malcolm hawke? why would they do that? and how would this line possibly slip by anyone else who would know that it's wrong and change it?

well. here's what we know about malcolm that is Actually consistent with all the sources:

he came down with a mysterious disease that seemingly came out of nowhere that killed him

no one names or describes this disease

20-30 years prior to this happening, malcolm was involved with the grey wardens, who sent him to the deep roads to help deal with a darkspawn problem

this same darkspawn problem was able to be resolved through the use of malcolm's blood magic.

what i think mostly likely happened is this:

malcolm hawke's "illness" was actually blight sickness that he contracted while helping the grey wardens, and he was able to survive it for the better part of 20 years through the use of blood magic. we know this is possible because of avernus. we also know that malcolm hawke's usage of blood magic Haunted him and he lived with such profound guilt for using it that he beat it over his childrens heads to never ever resort to it under any circumstance.

i bring this up because with this knowledge in mind, that random line that's seemingly out of place suddenly makes a little more sense. suddenly, it's actually a lot more possible to assume that the writer behind this particular banter accidentally mixed up "the blight" with "blight sickness" and everyone who saw it in the writing room or whatever didn't notice because it was still close enough that it didn't register as an inconsistency.

and this lines up with a lot of rumors regarding how lore in dragon age is handled. take this with a grain of salt because i've never seen a source for this, but i've seen it said Lots Of Times in the fandom space everywhere that the lore behind dragon age was never actually written down in one single document (ie that "black codex" that's talked about a lot by the writers is only figurative and not an actual tangible doc LOL), but rather, david gaider just kept it all in his head and was there to consult on lore stuff whenever it came up in the writing process. so this lends to my theory that in the proverbial writers room or whatever, someone said "malcolm hawke died from the blight" which got telephoned to "malcolm hawke died During The Fifth Blight" and slipped by unnoticed.

why am i bringing this up. because i see a Lot of people point to random tiny weird lines from veilguard that don't fit in the larger dragon age canon. like how datv implies humans came first before the other races, or the magic behind the crossroads between elves and everyone else is completely incompatible with how it was presented in trespasser, or how the presentation of harding is very inconsistent from what we've seen from other titan-touched dwarves in previous installments. i think that largely, veilguard is very consistent with dragon age's canon. but because of the way the lore was handled in development combined with how bioware basically nuked half of their writers, the team basically only had their memories of dragon age's lore and the games to draw upon for the creation of veilguard.

as such, a Lot of weird little lore things in veilguard can be chalked up to this, imo, and i can see it from both ways: the player who knows dragon age lore like the back of their hand can look at the little things in veilguard that are weirdly off and it's easy to assume this is another clear symptom of the writers no longer caring about dragon age or its characters. but then you can also look at the weird off lines in veilguard and realize they all make sense when you realize the writers were probably working with only their memory to inform the writing of veilguard, in the same way that a random banter in dragon age 2 can imply a major inconsistency with a character's life, Until you just change a couple words in it.

cus idk as i'm replaying the games again with this new lens of veilguard i suddenly have this thought that, like. a Lot of the stuff veilguard introduces or brings back from the older games has been there all along in one form or another. top of my head: bring alistair with you to the temple in the brecilian forest, and he makes a comment on how it looks oddly dwarven in architecture, despite being clearly an elven ruin. this is an odd detail that never really gets elaborated on or explained, but IMMEDIATELY clicks after playing veilguard and learning about the connection between the first elves and the dwarves. we had that knowledge this whole time, it was just never fully connected until now.

sydney why are you talking about this what the hell does this have to do with anything. i'm glad you asked. absolutely fucking fuckall. i just keep thinking about this as i play through origins and idk maybe someone will read this and we'll all feel a little better about how dragon age ended. who knows.

[valos-isatunoll]

i gave jowan a happy ending in worldstate 2

so the main changing point from the get-go is that jowan's escape actually succeeds. he and lily talk to sivan surana first, and it kind of ends up as a fight because sivan is really suspicious of lily due to her being a chantry initiate. so instead sivan tries to find duncan and persuade him to take jowan on as a grey warden candidate. she overhears irving telling greagoir to prepare the ambush and immediately chases after the main group to warn them.

by the time she reaches them, jowan's group has already destroyed the phylactery and opened the fucking door. too late? nah. fortunately, sivan is ridiculously capable with primal spells, and has a plan. she encases everyone in air bubbles and blasts through the ceiling straight into the lake. (it does flood the basements of the circle a little, but no one dies so whatever)

jowan and lily escape before the grey warden recruiting plot comes back, and only reappear much later, when sivan and amell are traveling to denerim post-ostagar. they've settled into a small village and are living in domestic bliss. it's a lovely reunion of friends. now, some background. due to the lack of jowan, loghain ends up hiring berwick (the elf spy in redcliffe tavern) to poison eamon and connor still has no tutor, but nevertheless got demoned and the rest proceeded as usual. connor is free of the demon; sivan and amell then went to the circle to get someone to come and take him (only because teagan insisted and amell failed to persuade leliana to assassinate him). but. with all that happened at the circle, they absolutely forgot.

so. back to jowan. they're guests at his house, eating the roast he and lily cooked when sivan suddenly stands up and exclaims "WE FORGOT ABOUT CONNOR!". amell also loses her shit. jowan and lily are all like ??? so they explain. and lily really becomes invested in this situation. she sympathizes with the situation and convinces jowan to help. they would need to move soon anyway, since the darkspawn horde has been getting closer and closer.

off to redcliffe they go. they present teagan and isolde with a perfectly workshopped lie of how they had an entire troop of templars assisting, but they encountered a group of darkspawn on the way and they were all killed, save for the good enchanter levyn. and with his final breath, the knight-lieutenant bade levyn go to redcliffe and teach the arl's son, but not undertake the journey to the circle tower yet because darkspawn.

since redcliffe is in the central location, sivan and amell go there after major plot developments and get to hear how jowan and lily have been doing. how are they doing, you ask? so well. jowan turns out to be great with children and he helps the villagers rebuild, which they really appreciate. lily becomes close with isolde. she sees a lot of herself in the arlessa; this deeply pious woman who loves a mage and was willing to do anything to keep him safe. she helps isolde through with the whole processing her feelings and what the chantry says, because she's been through the same. they end up becoming close friends.

after the blight, jowan, as enchanter levyn, gets officially assigned as the court mage to the arl, filling the empty place of wilhelm. like wilhelm, he gets all these advantages, and has a family with lily. the revered mother of the local chantry is not going to whine about rules to a man who saved the life of her sister when she got severely injured. anora naming sivan the arlessa of amaranthine set a precedent, and connor worked hard for redemption; so he inherits the title and becomes the arl. connor keeps "enchanter levyn" as his court mage and advisor, and greatly values his counsel.

jowan only uses blood magic once again in his life. after the rebellion starts, some templars that have always been looking at his appointment as a thorn in their side attack redcliffe. one of them tries taking his youngest daughter as hostage and jowan. just sees the sword at her throat and. explodes all the templars from the inside. lily sees it. she knows. but this is not an evil maleficar she's been warned about; this is the love of her life, the father of their children, a man protecting those he cares about most. she throws her arms around his neck as jowan gathers her and the children into an embrace and swears that he wouldn't let anyone harms them. she knows it's true.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#1: Chloe’s “Damnation Arc” That Was Totally Planned From the Start

Time to talk about one of the most infuriating anecdotes of Astruc, and it shows how chaotic the production of Miraculous Ladybug is.

Chloe Bourgeois the resident mean girl you see in a lot of cartoons and shows with a school setting in general. She's the daughter of the mayor of Paris, so she tends to get her way a lot. And her callous personality has left several people emotionally vulnerable, which is how Hawkmoth creates his minions of the week, Akumas. Of the 26 Akumas in the first season, Chloe has contributed to 12 of them becoming akumatized through bullying, insulting, and publicity humiliating them.

In the first season, Chloe was the kind of character who you loved to hate. She was someone who served as a minor threat in the civilian lives of the main characters, and she would usually get her comeuppance at the end of the episode.

There was effort into giving Chloe character development, don't get me wrong, with six episodes between Seasons 2 and 3 dedicated to it. But for every moment of heroism Chloe got, it was always negated by the end, having her go back to her old self and learning nothing in the process. This was because of a strange idea Astruc has. For some reason, he wants the status quo to be the same so new viewers can jump in at any time. While that may work for a show like SpongeBob SquarePants or The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, but not for a story driven show like Miraculous Ladybug. So Chloe's “character development” was an unfortunate case of one step forward, two steps back. This ended up disappointing fans, who were really hoping for Chloe to get a proper redemption arc. What's important to remember was that Astruc claimed that he planned for everything that's about to happen from the start, when you'll see that it couldn't be further from the truth.

Even after getting an entire trilogy of episodes focusing on her “development”, Chloe didn't really grow as a person. The only thing that changed was Ladybug would occasionally loan her the Bee Miraculous because of how good she is as Queen Bee. They tried mixing things up in Season 3 when Ladybug said she couldn't be Queen Bee anymore because her identity was public and it would be too dangerous... rather than how rude she is to everyone she meets, and is overall irresponsible with her powers (In her first appearance, she sabotaged a train so she could pull a Syndrome and save it herself, and it was quickly swept under the metaphorical rug). So throughout the third season, we'd get snippets of Chloe saying “Queen Bee could handle this if you let her!” whenever she was on screen. This culminated in the season finale, where she got fed up of waiting, and willingly sided with Hawkmoth to get back at Ladybug.

And when fans were naturally miffed at all this time wasted on a character arc that went absolutely nowhere, guess how Astruc responded?

I find it ironic that Astruc is saying fans shouldn't insult the writing team or other fans because they didn't like the twist... while insulting fans who didn't like the way Chloe's character arc went. Astruc could have easily turned down the idea of a Chloe redemption arc, or find some way to compromise instead of whatever we got. But even if he didn't, why does he have to be so callous about it?

Even if you don't like Chloe, this still screams bad writing. Why focus so much on a character's development so much if you're going to just throw it out the window? There were several times where Marinette was scolded for saying she couldn't change, and that she needed to see the good in Chloe, and now you're just turning back on it? If she was irredeemable the whole time, why dedicate so much time to her “damnation arc”, as Astruc puts it? Why not focus on getting to know other characters and their relevance to the story like Master Fu? Why not focus on writing more interactions between Marinette and Adrien? You know, the two leads whose relationship is the main focus of the show?

And it wasn't just here. Before the season finale, whenever people talked about how they loved Chloe and fanfics showing her growing as a person, Astruc just shut them down. If someone tries to reason with Astruc the importance of being kind to others, he'll just say something like “That doesn't matter, Chloe sucks!” Because that's a good lesson to teach kids, right? People can never change, so why bother?

It's not just those characters either. The last decade we got characters like Weiss Schnee, Pacifica Northwest, and Amity Blight. These were all mean girls who weren't just one-note caricatures of bullies, but characters who actually grew as we got to know them the longer their shows went on.

The thing is, Chloe has all the pieces necessary for a redemption arc, and there are fans and writers alike who want her to get a proper one. But because of Astruc's own stubborn beliefs, he refuses to let anything interesting happen. Change is possible, some of the most interesting characters in fiction are those who genuinely want to be better (Just take a look at all those examples I used earlier, and I'll show more if I need to).

And when someone pointed out that character development is a thing?

I mean, it's not like there was any evidence in the show that made it look like Chloe was trying to be a better person—OH WAIT.

And then, that same person pointed out the redundancy of having two mean girls to antagonize Marinette in her civilian life, relying on the stereotype that all girls do is fight over cute boys instead of actually finishing the redemption arc the writers set up, as well as showing a screenshot of a Tumblr post that perfectly summarizes my feelings on Chloe's character development.

What does Astruc have to say in response to these valid criticisms? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

That's literally all he said to this person. He didn't refute anything that person said, he didn't defend any of his writing choices, he basically plugged his fingers and his ears, and went “LALALALALALA, I'm not listening! I'm not listening!” Dude, you chose to open this Twitter account and take questions, so expect a little criticism thrown your way. But what should I know, according to him, he already planned this for years!

But the main question remains: If you didn't want Chloe to develop or grow as a person, Astruc, why did you even get our hopes up in the first place?

[thewriting-dragon]

Love Languages Headcanons

The Owl House Edition:

Eda Clawthorne: Receiving Gifts

She’s a collector. Clearly material things are where her focus is. This isn’t a bad thing, she’s just wired that way. The love of shiny objects and being a weird collector of random things. And people tend to instinctually do their own love language, and she likes giving gifts to Luz and King and to some extent Lilith. It’s how she shows she puts thought into her day about x person.

Lilith Clawthorne: Quality Time / Acts of Service 

A tied one for Lilith shouldn’t surprise anyone. This is a woman who likes a schedule and follows it, but she wants her sister to be with her. To spend time with her. It’s clearly a constant thought in Lilith’s mind. She wants those she loves to just be with her and in her life. Which is acts of service and quality time both. She could be one or the other but I think it’s a little of both. She wants to be around Eda but also wants Eda to be on the same page with her. To help Lilith. Enough to the point she was able to be manipulated for that one goal

Luz Noceda: Physical Touch 

Is anyone surprised here? This lovely ball of energy is such a physical touch person it hurts. She hugs without fear and even her anger is show through physical action in straight up tackling Lilith. And when ever she sees someone she loves it’s an immediate need to hug and be very close to said person. Sometimes even forgetting boundaries but it’s so clear thats how Luz with all her boundless energy and heart gives that love out. 

King of Demons: Receiving Gifts / Words of Affirmation  

This is another one that is really clear to me. Both of these tie into the fact King sees themself as a powerful demon who deserves all the things. He loves people giving him random gifts constantly (Covention) but also really enjoys when people praise him regardless of what the praise is about so long as it strokes his little demon ego. ( Sense and Insensitivity)

Willow Park: Quality Time

This one to me shows through the episode Understanding Willow. The girl’s inner world of core memories are about people just being around her and with her, not giving her things or such. But spending time with her. And she just wants to spend time with her friends, because she loves them. Not cause they can tell her she’s strong or whatever or give her stuff but because just time with them is enough. 

Amity Blight: Words of Affirmation /  Receiving Gifts 

Yes I think Amity has the same kind of love languages as King, but where King wants things first and foremost because of the power he attaches to them Amity just likes to be told she is doing well or good. Praise is something that she needs and strives for. This is a kid who just wants to be told that they are doing a good job and heck on her parents for making that also a nerve wrecking process for her. But she also has a tiny material side shown that she does keep things important to her in a box in her room. Items are important to her, but not the first thing she’d like

Edric Blight: Physical Touch 

Have you seen any episodes with that energy ball of the Blights? This boy just wants a hug dang it! He is constantly attached to someone it seems in proximity at least. He sees the world in a far more physical way than any other member of his family. Which in little moments throughout the show can be seen, to me at least. His attempt to copy Eda’s affection to Luz with Amity for starters.

Emira Blight: Words of Affirmation

This one was the hardest one because honestly of all the characters I feel like we see the least of Emira as far as how she likes to interact with people she cares about. She clearly likes her personal space so she didn’t fit Physical touch like her brother, nor does quality time seem right cause she likes her personal time as well so we’ve been shown. But then remember when I said earlier that people tend to respond to others first in their own love language. She praises Amity first and foremost, same with her interactions with Luz from what I personally remember. So I like to believe her’s is also Words of Affirmation, but not as severely as her baby sister. 

Gus Porter:  Words of Affirmation

Another words of affirmation baby, but this time far, far less to the like anxiety inducing level the Blight girls might be at. I imagine due to who is father is and how he acts overall this is a kid who preens at being told how smart and good he is doing. A kid who got bumped up in classes a few years. He has his accomplishments plastered all over the Porter house and is constantly praised for what he does and how he is as a person. Like the healthier less controlled version of Amity to be honest.  I imagine in a better environment Gus and Amity would get along even more as they’d understand needing praise from the ones you love.

Hooty: Quality Time

This house demon just wants bloody attention and it is the worst. He just wants you to listen to him and no one. No one wants to spend a second with this loud, grating, poor manners demon bird tube. I included him though to show that maybe the only person who will ever understand this demon creature that haunts us all is Lilith and I feel so sorry for that poor woman if the next season has her dealing with him most.

[sepublic]

Ideas for a Blight Twins Episode

          Continuing off of some ideas from a previous ask;

           Jerbo and Edric isn’t a very popular ship (not disliked, just not widespread), and I know there’s no canon basis whatsoever for Vinira, alas... But I really do like the idea of Edric learning to be his own person, apart from Emira, WITHOUT necessarily finding this through romantic love? It’d be a way of showing that other forms of love are perfectly valid… And it kind of reminds of some of those aroace headcanons I saw for Ed, a while back!

           Maybe it could even tie into his insecurity of not wanting to be alone… Thinking that because he’s aroace, he’s somehow unlovable, and incapable of feeling loved; And his clinginess is a desperate way to avert this view of himself and his identity! So having Edric find meaning and identity by hanging out with, say, Lilith, Luz, and King… I think it’d be a great way for him to learn that not only is romance not required to ‘be your own person’, that you’re not somehow less grown up for not being in love… It’d also make him finally getting a ‘pet’ for himself more meaningful, too!

           (And I see Edric as a kid at heart who never really got to be himself and had to grow up fast, and even as a rebel he still doesn’t let himself relax.)

           And Edric is able to find solace in multiple different relationships at once, instead of clinging extremely to the one he has with Emira… Relationships with different meanings, with Lilith being a surrogate mother, Luz being a regular friend/sister-in-law, and King… Well, I’m not sure WHAT King is, a little brother? Regardless, it’d really expand Edric’s horizons and allow him to experience ‘love’ in a different way that isn’t necessarily related to just being a blood sibling… Which could alleviate his concerns about never having a bond as close as his with Emira.

           THAT could then tie to Edric realizing and understanding Emira’s desire to be her own person more… As for Emira and any interactions with Viney, she might simply recognize how Viney and the other Detention Kids found solace through solidarity and shared similarities, and interactions; But still manage to be their own people! Though, they aren’t siblings, so there might be more of a desire to meet someone who can make it clear to Em that, no, you aren’t going to lose your identity by being close with your sibling…. Again, this ties back to my idea of Eda being a good mentor to Emira as well.

          At the very least, being around Viney, Jerbo, and Edric, who are understandably more sensitive, could lead Emira to being a lot more mindful and understanding of how others feel, and not necessarily steamrolling over that like her mother Odalia would… THAT could translate to her paying attention to Edric’s concerns and at least respecting them, instead of just casually throwing them to the side; Even if she still disagrees, at least she considered his side of the story first!

           Emira is someone who got defensive, in her attempts to be ‘herself’, by feeling like she had to push Edric away and become closed-off… When Edric suggests discussing their worst fears, Emira looks away as she says something that shuts him down- Even if it WAS likely honest, she low-key discouraged any further openness between the two at that point. And while it’s important for Emira to be her own person… Perhaps by opening up to Viney and the others, she could realize she’s still her own person, and better able to appreciate that- Especially since Emira opening up allows herself to be, well, herself around Viney, instead of just the confident mask she’s put up as a charming Blight!

           And because the twins are more honest and open with each other… It could lead to them being even closer, as again- They no longer fear having to hide or suppress parts of themselves, in fear of jeopardizing their conformity (which they mistake as synonymous with their bond), and in turn, they can enjoy one another while being happier individuals… And NOT worry about losing themselves in the process, because they know who they are, they know the other twin respects that, and they have other connections as well!

           …Legit, I have to wonder how Amity would react to all of this. If she may feel obligated to step in, or just stand back and let the Twins figure themselves out… Obviously she’d CARE for the two and be concerned. But at the same time, they ARE closer to one another than Amity… And I can see Amity being afraid of either twin singling her out as a new sibling-bond to form in the absence of their other one, for Emira to get away from Edric’s in her case, and Edric to replace the one he can’t back with Emira. Maybe it could lead to either twin trying to be more appealing to Amity, being less themselves to get her approval; And Amity, who initially may find it amusing, quickly shuts them down because she sees herself in them… And she does NOT want to make others feel obligated to change themselves for her approval, because they feel like they have nobody else!

           Which, that’d likely lead to Amity either participating in encouraging either sibling to mature, to grow… But given how she’s got her own issues, more than likely she’d recognize that it’d be mutually health for them both to split off for now. At the very least, she doesn’t want to risk taking advantage of Emira or Edric… And either twin might feel disgruntled at Amity, but then remember they were also cruel to her in the past ‘for her own good’, but on the other hand, THAT hadn’t been for her own good after all- So who was to say that Amity was correct, pushing away the other twin and not accepting their friendship (laced with dependency) ‘for their own good’?

           Regardless- It’d probably make Amity feel worse if one twin, or both, began to depend on her. She already feels like she has to conform to what her parents expect of her, what Boscha and the others expect of her as the top student… So it’d just put more pressure on Amity to take care of others, VS herself; Especially since she admittedly is not responsible for Emira and Edric’s identity issues this time, unlike with Willow. Plus, she may not be in the right mindset to help them either, as she’s still figuring herself out with Luz…

           Not to mention, Emira and Edric may or may not have reservations about having to depend on their own little sister for help; And they might be too aghast at forcing Amity to take care of the other. Maybe they wouldn’t want to keep bothering her after everything else, after seeing how much they already hurt Amity, who tried to be both like AND unlike them, paradoxically, at the same time (tried to have the same talent but not be a rebel). There might be the insecurity from Ed and Em both that as lonely individual who barely have their own identity, they might just screw over Amity further… Amidst some pride and shame at being seen like in front of their little sister.

           Though, I can ALSO imagine a hilarious scenario where Emira and Edric viciously compete for Amity’s affection, offering incentives and favors, maybe aggressively downplaying the other and holding a bit of a grudge… Until for her own health, Amity tells them to STOP, and leave her alone and figure their own issues out, on their own- Or with literally anyone else!

           I can totally see them going to Luz for help, though… Or again, maybe not- They might see Luz as too cool for them by this point, since Emira and Edric DO seem legitimately fond of Luz, as someone who is likely their only friend outside of the family, and the only person who actively reciprocated friendship with them and wanted to earn approval! Emira and Edric might feel obligated to still be those too-cool-for-school twins, so they may avoid telling Luz about their own problems to ‘live up to her expectations’, afraid Luz would no longer like them as much for being so ‘pathetic’… When in reality, Luz likes the twins as whoever they are, whoever they choose to be! She’s interested in getting to knowthem, whether or not that identity matches the façade the Twins have put up or not; It makes no difference to her.

           Still, I can see Emira and Edric trying to start ‘fresh’ with a total stranger… But as I said before, Edric isn’t identical to Emira and vice-versa. So ultimately, while I think Emira would have more of those reservations about opening up to Luz, as I mentioned earlier; Edric is someone who’d just want companionship, and thus be more liable to others’ opinions for approval. In this scenario, this could be good for him, as then Edric would be more receptive to genuine, positive feedback from Luz… as well as Lilith, etc.

           Like, I’m just imagining a hypothetical episode of the Blight Twins doing some soul-searching, beginning with the separation and following Emira and HER misadventures with Viney… Emira assumes it’ll be oh-so-easy, that she can rely on that charm and confidence and just that, no being open or honest and vulnerable… Which then leads into that fan concept of Emira trying to connect with Viney, but because Em refuses to be up-front about her feelings because she thinks she has to be ‘cool’ to get affection from a stranger, Viney just thinks the girl is out to murder her!

          Emira gets more and more frustrated, ends up accidentally tormenting Viney while Jerbo and Barcus are forced to defend her… And eventually Luz or somebody else, maybe Willow, just throws in their two cents and tells Emira to be straight-forward; Exactly like that ‘Stop lying, stop manipulating, just be nicer’ meme, and Emira is just utterly lost and baffled; But she finally obliges and it works out! And after experiencing happy, formulating relationships, Emira appreciates Edric’s concerns more, and then wonders what happened to him and how he’s doing…?

          And then once THAT ends, we immediately cut to see what Edric was doing; And how alone and dejected after she basically ‘ditched’ him, we have a humorous montage of Edric wandering Bonesborough like a traveling vagrant without a home, connections, or identity…Even though he’s not, but he’s being dramatic! And as he sits by himself alone, he ends up picking up a pet or two that he befriends, because it just strolls up to him and sits down besides Edric in mutual solidarity, as he starts talking to it… Openly appreciating the company, and then maybe projecting some of his own insecurities regarding him and Emira.

          Then maybe the ‘pet’ leaves him by that point, and Edric starts crying out in abandonment! A mean yet hilarious wake-up moment, perhaps alluding to Edric pushing people away for being too clingy and projecting his needs onto them. Maybe Ed DOES find a proper pet, then or later…! Either way, his wandering leads him to the Owl House- Either he sees Eda and the others selling stuff and follows them, he just ends up there on his own, or he deliberates on his other connections, dismissing going to Mittens as ‘too desperate’, even for him; And then he brightens up and remembers Luz, remembers how she always makes people happy, including Mittens of all people! If Luz can help Amity, she can help Edric… And somewhere along the way, Edric is surprised to find himself valuing an unexpected bond with Lilith, and maybe the other Owl House residents as well!

           Certainly not Hooty, though, even if him and Edric may share issues of being ‘desperate’ for companionship. Hooty is a freaking war criminal. Actually… perhaps like Eda in Episode 9, talking to Hooty will help Edric realize where he messed up, and/or come to an epiphany of what he might become, or do to others! In turn, he appreciates Emira’s decision more… Maybe Ed bolts off, understanding how Emira may have viewed him, but he also still needs to figure out how to value himself, and Emira’s desires VS Emira just not wanting to be with someone so ‘desperate’, as it leads to Edric thinking he needs to be more confident just to win back his sister. Either way, Hooty is left in the dust mid-sentence, RIP. Maybe Edric even narrates his realization aloud, ending on him declaring that he doesn’t want to be like Hooty, right to Hooty’s accursed face!

           As Edric gets along with everyone, maybe he picks up a pet, possibly with Viney’s help… And he learns to respect wild animals as their own creatures with their own lives, and not just toys for him to kidnap and take into his own possession! Edric respects the autonomy of these animals, that they don’t owe him anything and he can’t just force a bond… And like with Emira, he better understands how his sibling felt!

          The two meet again, talk awkwardly, mention to their individual journeys in passing, possibly with the others watching- And they have a tearful reunion hug! Maybe Amity even joins in, because why not- She’s happy to see her older siblings healing like Luz did for her, and this could make all three Blight kids better with one another. Of course, Ed and Em ‘ruin’ the moment by teasing Amity but messing with her, but in the end everybody is happy, and Luz does that ugly-crying face from the end of Understanding Willow, reveling in and appreciating wholesomeness.

[aros001]

First time read through light novel vol. 6. Random thoughts.

Hey, can you guess what my favorite episode of the anime is? Here's a hint: it's one apparently a lot of other Subarem shippers hate. I say f**k that! Episode 18 and this book made me love the idea of them as a couple even more! But we'll get to that in a minute.

“By conducting these negotiations, you bear Emilia’s fate on your shoulders. Naturally, everything you say affects her, and it carries the same weight as Emilia’s words. This is not a decision you should make lightly, nor are the words you say easily taken back.”

“...Ah, uh...”

“Moreover, I ask again—should you owe me in this matter, it will mean the defeat of the Emilia camp. Are you truly fine with this?”

It really brings into the focus the problem of Subaru calling himself Emilia's knight without thinking and why the actual knights took such offence to it. At best it was a gimmick with no actual meaning to him and at worst he wanted all the rewards that came with being a knight (or at least what he perceived as the rewards) and not any of the responsibility. That's basically the reality Crusch is making Subaru face; the true burden that is on the one who claims to be Emilia's representative. Being a knight isn't just a game or a fancy title. Whatever he does will heavily impact his lady's future and he never once considered that.

“You hate the Witch Cult. That’s the reason you approached Emilia, is it not?”

Damn.

“—You have not said, ‘I want to save Emilia,’ even once.”

Daaaamn. Obviously, we know the witch cult has nothing to do with why Subaru wanted to hang around Emilia, but it's really telling of his current state that that's what it looks like from the outside. His hatred for Petelgeuse is stronger than his love for Emilia.

The fact that Roswaal has twice now been absent during events that his presence could easily have prevented tragedy is incredibly suspicious. Especially during the mansion arc, where he only left the mansion during the loop Subaru had made a lot of progress in finding the shaman and thus, unlike the previous loops, could have warned him about what was about to happen. It feels like Roswaal is intentionally removing himself as to invite disaster upon his house and Emilia, likely to manipulate her and Subaru.

Priscilla is an oddity to me, because she really feels like someone I should dislike more than I do, as I tend to have an instant dislike for very bratty, entitled, and/or spoiled characters. I'm not sure what it is specifically that's lifting her up so much for me. It's not just the looks, because I've seen attractive female characters I've hated because of their brattiness (I think she and Bitch princess from Shield Hero share the same english voice actor, in fact). I think that, one, there is just this sense of fun and amusement when Priscilla's around, like I just want to see whatever she does next, and two, despite her attitude, I'm not really getting a feeling of shallowness from her. She doesn't feel like she's putting people down just to prop herself up. There is actual strength and depth to her.

Rem followed behind both of them, and he could hear noises coming from her nose every so often. Rem had a keen sense of smell, and she’d apparently picked up some kind of unsavory scent, staring at the back of the iron helm as they walked along.

Well, Al is from another world like Subaru, so it wouldn't be surprising if he also had the witch's scent attached to him, assuming his situation is anything like Subaru's.

“Don’t be silly. You’re Ram, right?”

“I am Rem... Forgive my rudeness, but where have you met Sister, Master Al?”

Rem explained how he’d mistaken her for her nearly identical older sister as she posed the question. However, Al made no reply. He raised up his one arm and touched his helm, busily poking the metal.

“What the hell’s goin’ on here...?”

Al sounded nervous, seemingly unable to process the information. The increasingly rapid tapping offered further proof.

“So you’re Rem...and your sister is Ram?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“This might be a weird thing to ask but...is your older sister alive?”

“...? I do not understand the meaning of your question. Sister is alive, as she should be.”

The instant Rem gave that answer, Subaru, who had been listening to the conversation in silence, felt goose bumps all over his flesh.

“—This ain’t funny.”

Well...that got a lot of theory wheels turning in my head. I was already wondering if Al had his own Return By Death ability, so it's certainly possible he'd met Ram before a restart, though why he'd mix up her and Rem, I'm not sure. Another possibility is that he's maybe experienced Subaru's own RBDs, so while he can't trigger the ability himself he retains his memories from the original timelines. We've seen timelines where Ram has died but also one back at the mansion where only Rem died. Of course, there's also the possibility this story is going to go full Futurama: Bender's Big Score and Al is going to turn out to be a future version of Subaru sent back to the past.

That damn whale is like something out of a horror movie. I don't tend to care for gory horror but I do like movies with unique monsters and killers, so I could easily see myself getting into a movie about a giant flying whale that appears in a dark fog and basically consumes the entire existence of whatever it eats, including its past presence in the world. It's not just memories being erased. The person themselves never was.

You can tell the story is doing a good job of connecting when I know full well that Subaru's going to have another RBD and that everything's going to be fine and I'm still tearing up over Rem basically sacrificing herself to hold off the whale and Subaru is realizing he's allowed her to die four times over.

Huge difference between the books and the anime, as I'm pretty sure in the anime Puck just killed Subaru in the room Emilia died in. There was no bringing her to the witch cult's hidden cave like there was here.

“Unable to even pass a single trial, not even facing a single Deadly Sin, bearing great expectations only to stumble over the first stone in her path...”

The madman looked down at the sleeping Emilia, sighing.

“—Ahh, you were lazy!”

Curious as to what he meant by all that. Now that I think about it, I don't think it's been revealed yet the specific reason the witch cult went after Emilia. Yes, she looks like the Witch of Envy but it that a bad thing or a good thing to the cult? Do these "trials" she was supposed to face have to do with the dragon and royal selection or the witch?

I don't think they said why Subaru can now see Petelgeuse's previously unseen hands. I think I saw a theory about how Subaru's connection with the witch grows stronger with each RBD, beyond just the scent, so he might simply has just accumulated enough EXP to finally level up into seeing them. Then again, I did love Subaru's mocking line to Petelgeuse that the witch has been "cheating" on him with Subaru, so it's certainly possible he just has more of Satella's affection than Petelgeuse and thus he gets more special perks from her.

And finally, we get to the talk between Subaru and Rem at the end. Funny thing, when I first started watching the anime, someone I knew who'd seen it before me told me that, one, it's very different from Isekai Quartet, which introduced me to the characters, so don't go in expecting a comedy, and two, that episode 18 has a Subaru moment that a lot of people hate. Given how the arc had been since before that episode and how Subaru kept falling further and further, I had no idea what was going to happen or what was worse than what he'd already done that'd get people to hate him so much.

And it turns out it's just because of a shipping war. I'm still not sure if I should feel relieved or annoyed. Yeah, I ship Subaru and Rem over Subaru and Emilia, but hating this part of the story just because he still loves Emilia? I feel like everything else except for that one line gets ignored (the line I'm avoiding saying because I don't want a bot to flag this post) and that the lack of all context except Subaru loving Emilia while Rem loves him destroys a lot of why the scene works.

There's just so much to talk about with why I love this part between Subaru and Rem. I'm a big fan of superhero stories and a classic trope I love is when things get dark and everything is brought to its lowest point...only for the hero to make a comeback. And Subaru... The man is broken. He's given up. Not only has he experienced death, failure, and futility multiple times, he's seen the people he cares about be completely slaughtered, with Rem dying, being mutilated, and even erased to protect him and Emilia, the woman he loves, dying directly because of him. He's powerless to change anything, or at least everything he does change seems to just make things worse. He sees himself as selfish, greedy, and arrogant; that he never actually cared about anyone other than himself. He's just spewing all this very justified self-hatred...and Rem counters it perfectly, not saying a single thing that isn't true about what she loves about him. Last volume had her imagining running away with Subaru, so the possible life with him she talks about isn't just something she's pulled out of the air. It's something she's considered and wants, which means it has actual weight when she turns him down.

I think another reason Rem connects to Subaru so much is because she's no stranger to self-hatred. She's also seen her own existence as a blight on everyone and everything around her. That she's selfish and terrible. And the person who helped pull her out of that state, at least somewhat, and get her to start liking herself was Subaru, which is what she's doing for him now. It's what I love so much about the relationship between these two. It's not just that they've saved each others' lives. They've helped each other in incredibly personal ways, despite the fact that neither fully knows what the source of the other's pain is. Subaru doesn't know what Rem felt as she watched Ram's horn get cut off. Rem doesn't know about Subaru's RBD and constant failures. They didn't need to. They simply knew the other needed help and they gave it, with no strings attached. It's why, despite me shipping them together, I'm not upset that Subaru doesn't return Rem's love (yet?) in the same way. There was a great bit of art I saw of the moment, and the words alongside it were "I didn't say I love you to hear it back. I said it so that you would know." Despite her still having some issues, being a little too subservient and obsessed with Subaru, I can believe Rem's love for him is real. When Subaru hated himself and believed everyone else did too, Rem told him that she loved him, not to get anything back out of it, but simply because she wanted him to at least have that to hold onto.

Rem was clearly at least a little upset at the end of their talk, and I can see it being some regret that she turned him down or that he does still love Emilia more, and I'm fine with that. She did the right thing and she is happy the real Subaru is back, but her being a little sad afterwards keeps her human (even if she's a demon).

Honestly, while I do ship them, I think both did make the right call. If or when they hook up, it should be when there's no lingering doubts or regrets they're carrying with them. Where they can have a future where they can smile together and with everyone in their lives they love and can't just abandon. Plus, I want to see Ram as an aunt to Subaru and Rem's kid! That sounds amazing!

And Subaru saying he loves Emilia, even after Rem poured her heart out to him...well, yeah, of course he does. He just found out Rem loves him and has had no time to process it (he was trying to run away with her out of fear and guilt, thus why she turned him down). If his feelings for Emilia were that easily swayed then it'd be hard to say that they were ever that strong or real to begin with, and thus what would have been the point of everything he's been through? It's not like he said it to hurt Rem. Hell, here and in the anime he sounds pretty apologetic as he says it, because he knows it'll hurt her to hear it and he doesn't want that. But it is the truth. So I'm not going to get mad at him for it. It's consistent with his character and everything he's been through and lead to great character moments for both him and Rem. What's there to be angry about?

But yeah, there was a little bit of it in the last chapter but I'm soooooooo looking forward to next volume. I remember just the feeling of hype and "F**k yeah!" going through my chest on my first watch of the anime. Subaru, after hitting his absolute lowest point, pulling himself together with Rem's help and gathering up everything he's got to fight back against the previously hopeless situation and save the day. It made all that heartache and misery so worth the wait.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/gr9y77/novels_first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_6/

[eury--dice]

history, huh?

chapter 2: prope

(check the rb for chapter 1 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Blue’s gum popped loudly on the other line. Adam couldn’t remember the last time he saw her chew gum, but somehow it seemed fitting that she picked up the habit then, with him overseas. “Any weird paintings?”

“I’m legally obligated not to tell you,” Adam replied, flicking his eyes over a textbook. He scanned his eyes over a page, but the fonts and colors all blurred together, creating a grey and red mass of string in front of him instead of a helpful breakdown of France’s pre-revolution economy. His phone, propped up on a tiny potted fern, revealed Blue Sargent in all of her early-evening glory. He wondered what the tabloids might think of her like this: her thick and short black hair held back by clashing vibrant hair clips, dressed in one of Gansey’s old Aglionby sweaters she converted into a halter top, felt-tip pen ink somehow smudged on her cheek. There was something wonderfully grounding about her familiar chaos.

“Contracts are a suggestion and nothing more.”

“Don’t let your mother hear that. She’ll have us both thrown in jail.” Ronan’s words from earlier popped into his head, but he had the luxury of ignoring them with the prince out of sight, and so he did. 

“C’mon, Adam, you know she’s a softie. You’re in Kensington Palace. You have to tell me something exciting.”

Adam scrounged for something to tell her. He glanced around his room again, still caught off-guard by how much it felt like a castle. Admittedly, he didn’t have a great reference for what castles were supposed to feel like; the only other castle he had been in was the Bishop Palace on a tour with his mother at age eight. His hair raised on end at random moments here the same way it did then, the draftiness leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He couldn't quite shake the idea that someone was watching him, caught between air molecules and screaming for someone to hear them. The White House sometimes gave him the same feeling. Realistically, he knew people passed over every spot on the earth and nothing made the walls of the White House or Kensington Palace any different in that regard. But the history in them intimidated him. The presence of greats, from founding fathers to celebrity politicians to monarchs, was a guarantee rather than a possibility. He couldn’t help but feel watched by them, feel their expectations and disappointment thick in the air.

Living there all the time as Ronan did must be lonely, surrounded only by ghosts. 

He pushed his feet against the floor, leaning back in his chair so that it balanced on two legs. His leg swung back and forth to dully hit the wooden underside of the seat while the other braced him. Adam didn’t quite want to tell Blue any of that. He knew she would understand, both because she was Blue and because her family was a big believer in the supernatural and psychic. But he didn’t know how to say it without a long-winded rant. “There’s a coat of armor outside my room,” he admitted in a low tone. “I’ve been waiting for it to twitch its finger and beckon me closer.”

“I’m sure if you ask nicely it will let you pursue your weird metal fantasies.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Adam said without heat, finally flipping the textbook shut. “No kink-shaming over the phone.”

“I watched the Wizard of Oz with you at age eight, Adam. You can’t hide your reaction to the Tin Man from me.”

Adam rubbed his eyes. “I need ice cream to deal with this bullying,” he announced, standing from the borrowed desk and snatching his phone up.

“Aw, at least I know that the English haven’t been able to suck all the life out of you if you’re complaining and want ice cream.”

“They haven’t managed it yet, but we’re only one photo op in.”

“Well, if the excess of British does manage to sideline you, let me know. I know Gansey will want the heads-up for the tabloids.”

“As long as you don’t feed them headlines again, I’d be happy to.” Adam rounded the corner into the spacious kitchen reserved for guests of the Crown. He’d roll his eyes at the needless expense if the White House didn’t provide the exact same accommodations. 

“I’m telling you again, I know nothing of the allegation.”

Adam gave her a flat look. “Who else would pen ‘First Son Denies Fur Son Residence in the Residence?’ Besides the obvious reason for it being bad, it was clearly you.”

Blue blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Sometimes I hate your intimate knowledge of my love of wordplay.”

“And I yours of the diplomatic taxidermy gifts I receive.”

“I’m sure the Minister of Foreign Affairs’ son meant well, he was just...creepy.”

Adam sighed, opening the freezer with one hand to reveal a box of pre-packaged ice cream cones. “They always mean well.”

He pulled the box from the freezer and shut the door, turning on his heel to face the counter. But he stopped short when he noticed it was no longer just him and Blue alone in the kitchen. 

Prince Ronan stood in the entryway to the kitchen, disarmed in the half-light with his flannel pajama pants and black t-shirt combination. Over-the-ear headphones sat on his head, but he pushed them down to loop around his neck. The music was so loud it bled into the air, carrying the harsh sound of drums until they reached Ronan across the kitchen. On his screen, Blue studied Adam and his sudden pause, and the voice of Gansey carried over from somewhere far away - “I’ve got a new article,” it sounded like, though Adam could barely hear anything. 

“Call you back,” he said quietly, disconnecting from the call. Ronan looked almost apologetic when Adam looked back up towards him.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he confessed. “Goody-two-shoes like you.”

Adam wanted to take offense to it, but something stopped him. “I could say the same for you.”

“Yes, well, insomnia calls.”

“Doesn’t it always?” The two shared a tight smile. 

“I was out,” Ronan explained, gesturing to the box in Adam’s hand. “Knew there’d be a stock here. I’m...sorry.” The word sounded bitter and foreign on his tongue.

“It’s fine,” Adam said. “Midnight snacks are to be taken seriously or not at all.” He slid the box across the counter, suddenly very aware of his threadbare, faded crimson coca-cola tee shirt and GU sweatpants. He couldn’t stop feeling the slide of them against his skin. 

Ronan clutched the box once it reached him, looking to Adam with something close to surprise. Still, he opened the box and selected an ice cream. 

While he was distracted, Adam snapped a picture, the flash bright in the dim kitchen. 

The stare leveled at him by Ronan should’ve been enough to pin any self-preserving person in place, but Adam rarely did what was best for him personally. “What the fuck is that for?”

“Two social media posts a day,” Adam replied, speeding through the filtering process and tapping to the captioning. “It’s part of the contract.”

“Of course it would be,” Ronan mutters with great disdain. “Fucking social media addicted hounds.”

“Not a fan of technology?”

“Oh, sure, other than the fact that it’s a blight consuming the world by slaughtering brain cells and slowly giving us radiation poisoning.”

“You could’ve just said ‘yes.’”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?”

Adam smiled brightly. “Not giving me a headache from all of the pomposity?” 

“Exactly. No fun.” When Adam continued to stare blankly at his screen, Ronan rolled his eyes. “Does it take you this long to caption everything you do? If so, I understand why so little governing takes place.”

“Because the monarchy is oh-so-powerful,” Adam replied, but then decided to cut them off before it could turn into a full-blown fight. “It always takes me a minute to think of something good.”

Ronan grabbed the phone from his hands. “You’re overthinking it,” he dismissed, making a few decisive taps before handing the phone back to Adam, photo captioned but not yet posted. insomnia ice cream ft. @PrinceRonan. 

“Thought you hated technology?”

“Hate and lack of proficiency are two different things.” “...Of course,” Adam said, clicking post on the photo. Ronan turned and walked toward the door, the song on his headphones audibly changing. Not one for goodbyes, then. The feeling he had in his room was back then, the idea that ghosts clung to the air around him and stole oxygen with their demands. Although Ronan had not yet left, Adam already felt as though he were lonely. Lonely, but not alone, still technically with Ronan and all of the ghosts thickening the air.

Adam, in a fluid movement he didn’t really plan, dumped half of the ice creams on the counter and held out the box across the marble countertop as though bridging some wide ocean. The coolness of the marble inched closer to the skin of his forearm where it hovered a few inches in the air.

“You can take these if you’d like.”

Ronan froze, his back straightened and still before he turned ninety degrees back to look at Adam. “Pardon?”

“The ice cream cones. It’s probably better you do, honestly. I just eat them when I’m bored. Calories I don’t really need.”

Ronan’s startlingly blue eyes studied him for a moment, roaming every line of Adam’s face as though searching for some trickery and then jumping to the box in Adam’s outstretched hand. “Thank you,” he said at last in an undertone, accepting the offered box. And, leaving Adam with some hint of a smile, Prince Ronan was gone, Adam all by himself and the faint memory of intense guitar music leaking from expensive headphones still lingering in the air. 

  Once they landed firmly in PR territory, Adam felt a bit steadier on his feet.

PR he knew like the back of his hand, armed with years of experience from campaigns and political terms. It was not innate for him like for Gansey, but like everything else in his life, Adam was a star pupil and quick to pick it up thoroughly. He studied diligently, examining the facial expressions of everyone around him, examining each furrow of brow and twitch of lips and bellow of a laugh, practicing and perfecting on his own to ensure that he blended in seamlessly and, when necessary, stood out brilliantly. America’s First Son, valedictorian-intelligent and attractive enough to stop hearts for a moment upon seeing him. By the time he sat on ITV This Morning next to his enemy, he certainly knew all the tips and tricks and expertise ensuring a successful interview, and luckily Ronan seemed to know his way around a talk show as well. His thoroughly British host seemed appropriately charmed by their dynamic, a golden-child American and England’s simultaneously proper and wild Royal. 

Adam excelled at PR not because he was natural but because he was over-prepared, and so he was comfortable with the rhythm he and Ronan fell into - referencing each other’s favorites, cracking dry, sarcastic jokes about ice cream, fist-bumping and throwing arms around each other’s shoulders for effect when needed.

He counted it as a win that his resentment never made it into his words or his actions. Instead, he distracted himself with what they were doing, savoring the news alerts of their “clearly natural” friendship and the thumbs-up and “!!!” texts from Gansey and Blue whenever something exciting reached the press. He ignored Ronan for the most part, and Ronan mostly ignored him. He clenched his teeth and smiled at how rough-and-tumble Ronan looked under stage lighting, as wickedly handsome as a poisoned and sharpened dagger, unfairly attractive even with his head closely shaved. 

Then the time for their second photo op rolled around, sometime after Adam posted an empty-feeling snapshot of Ronan on a deserted London sidewalk with the caption love a nice mid-afternoon walk, and his mood plummeted sharply. 

As well as people and hospitals generally went together, Adam did not have a particularly terrible relationship with any hospitals, especially the Royal Marsden NHS Foundation Trust. He did not enjoy them, sure, but who did? And his discomfort may have gone below the surface-level “death and sickness occur here” jitteriness most people felt, but the majority of the unease coiling in his stomach came from the utterly staged feeling to everything. The First Son and Prince came bearing gifts of books, but they probably did more harm than good for all of the children by displacing all the medical professionals and disrupting their steady routines with full camera crews.

It felt hypocritical, and Adam definitely didn’t want to be shoving cameras in the faces of cancer patient children, but the decisions weren’t up to him, and so he slipped back into PR mode. He shook the hands of nurses and posed faux-candidly for cameras. The only real things he did were with the kids - once they knew who he was, they asked for stories of celebrities and monuments, and although Adam was no fantastic storyteller, he did his best to answer every question and then some. He read to them, too, from the new and donated books, even when the cameras left in search of Ronan. Anger was hard to hold onto when he looked into their faces and resolved to cheer them up. 

He read until his voice began to grind at itself, tucked next to kids on narrow hospital cots. They were all ages, and all perfectly suited to throw Adam back into memories he didn’t want to relive. Looking at the books, with the gaudily-colored pictures and ridiculous rhymes, was easier than looking at the children. They all looked to him with similar looks painted across their faces and twinkling in their eyes, one that made Adam’s heart twist, because he knew that he’d worn that expression so often as a child when he thought someone could help him or save him. They looked at him like he was hope itself, some savior come to grant them a wish and a recovery. He didn’t want to disappoint them.

The visit of the First Son and Prince of England must have cut into naptime because at some point Adam looked up from the book to realize that the camera crews had retreated and all the patients in his ward had dozed off.  He slowly unfurled himself, gangly limbs and all, to stand without disturbing the child who rested so fitfully on the hospital cot. His steps were soft and random against the tile, mostly just a blind search to try and find Ronan. It wasn’t long before he heard Ronan’s voice stretching over space from the next room over. Adam slowed, hoping to stay just out of sight while still observing Ronan.

The Prince perched on the edge of a narrow hospital bed, reminding Adam ridiculously of a bird poised to take flight. Since there were no cameras near him, his posture was slightly relaxed like it had been in the kitchen the night previously. A little girl clung tightly to his hand while he gestured wildly with his other, her eyes wide and hanging onto his every word. Ronan’s voice was somehow hushed and grand at the same time, his posh accent dulled to something a little more rural.

“When three hundred years had come and gone, the four swans traveled South to the sea of Moyle, braving the turbulent tides that wanted to draw them under.” He leaned closer to her and tugged lightly on her free hand with his free hand, perhaps to echo the water he mentioned in the story, and she gripped it tightly, nearing laughter with every second. “They swam past the cold and stormy seas, their feathers ruffled but unharmed when they reached Inis Glora. The swans had grown tired over their long journey, the years of their lives catching up to slow them down.”

Adam, without thinking, felt a bit of a smile take over his face. He was taken aback by the change in Ronan. The boy sitting on the bed seemed lightyears away from any other version - he’d gone a little hazy at the edges, as though he were made of smoke, as though Adam was dreaming and viewing some kind of apparition. His tailored lines still stuck out jaggedly, cutting a harsh figure, but he seemed at ease and gentle for the first time Adam had ever seen. One hell of a storyteller, too. Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to know why, as the Prince of England, Ronan could let all of those Irish words roll off of his tongue as though they came naturally.

An Irish children’s tale. An Irish children’s tale. Why would he know any of those? The answer nagged at Adam’s brain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to dig.

The girl was quiet as Ronan’s voice trailed off until it became nothing. The swans had returned to elderly humans and lived with a priest who blessed them for the rest of their days, and Adam assumed that she was processing the anticlimactic ending. Finally, she said, “I like those endings best.”

“You do?” Ronan asked, patience yielding in his tone. “Why do you like them?”

“Sad endings are too sad, but happy endings aren’t real.”

Adam could only see the back of Ronan’s head, but he could hear him clear his throat and see him squeeze the girl’s hand in his much larger one. “Me, too.” He leaned away from her a little, letting go of one of her hands. When he spoke again, a smile was in his voice. “You’re much wiser than the adults I know. I might have to offer you a position advising me.”

The girl laughed again, a giddy and wild and hopeful thing. “You’re very silly,” she informed Ronan, likely too young to realize any breaches in etiquette. Luckily for her, Ronan didn’t care, either.

“I am very serious,” he said, his face no doubt translating that sentiment very well. He squeezed her hand again. “I’ll be back with an offer in fifteen or so years, don’t you worry.”

“Is that a promise?”

Ronan stilled at once, the muscles in his back set just as they had been in the kitchen. Adam didn’t envy the situation she’d inadvertently put Ronan into. As childish and silly as her question was, there was a little too much weight to the response for him to casually offer a yes or a no.

“Do your best to get better,” he said at length, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

And, oh, that expression of hope was back shining on her face, and Adam had to shuffle to his other foot, looking away. The people were the reason he liked politics, liked the idea of trying to help build a world even a fraction better than the one he was raised in, and yet he couldn’t look. Couldn’t bear the thought of letting anyone down.

Ronan glanced behind him, clearly catching sight of Adam, just as a nurse bustled into the room and cheerfully announced that it was time for medicine.

“Thank you,” the little girl said before releasing his hand.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ella,” Ronan said with a stiff formality that made her giggle again. “And of course,” he added, a little more softly.

It was perhaps not a polite enough exit for a prince, but after Ronan clumsily thanked the nurse and stepped back into the ward to meet Adam, he knew it was the best they would get. Ronan continued moving past him in the direction Adam assumed the cameras must have gone.

“Ah, so you do have feelings other than anger,” Adam said, trailing Ronan into the hall. 

“Don’t act so fu... completely surprised,” Ronan replied, turning his head towards Adam. At first, he thought Ronan might have been uncomfortable with the idea of Adam seeing the interaction, but instead, his face started to squeeze into something close to a smile, his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth lifting. A pop from down the hallway shuttered the expression before it could become fully formed. A shout cut through the air just as Persephone appeared between Ronan and Adam as though materializing from thin air. Her impossibly long, white hair clung to the sleeves of their sweaters with static friction as she shoved them with surprising strength into a closet. 

Her voice was still serene and airy despite the sudden tension settling on everyone’s chests. “Wait for the all-clear.” And the door shut with a thunk behind her. 

Adam leaned his head against it with a sigh, before very rapidly remembering that they were two high-profile targets in a possible active shooter scenario and doors weren’t exactly safe. He scrambled backward, accidentally knocking into Ronan and sending them tumbling into the wall. Of all the closets to be unceremoniously shoved into, they had to be stuck in one barely large enough for the brooms stacked to his right. 

“Can you stop falling into me, please?” came Ronan’s voice, taut with something close to fury but probably closer to anxiety.

“But you love it so much,” Adam bit out, trying to backtrack. Ronan’s face had somehow ended up in Adam’s hair, and he could feel Ronan’s long lashes close, paired with a troubled exhale. Adam managed to extract himself from Ronan and slide against one of the walls, crouching beside something he suspected was a bucket. Ronan followed his example, leaning against the opposite wall until he slid to the ground. Adam couldn’t see Ronan very well, but judging from the faint rustling sounds of buzzed hair against cotton and quick, deep breaths, he wasn’t handling the situation very well.

“This is a new one,” Adam said. “Assassination attempts, I mean. Is this common for the royalty?”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, his voice faint from his position closer to the ground.

“I’m blaming you if we die, you know.” When he received no response, Adam continued. “I probably could have made it at least a couple more years. No one’s ever tried to shoot me before. Guess I’m not important enough on my own. Who knew our fake friendship could be so deadly?”

“Fuck off,” Ronan replied, his breaths still deep.

“I’d love to, mate,” Adam said, forcing faux-jolly British inflection into the last word, “But we’re stuck in this closet for the foreseeable future, or until we get shot.”

“I meant shut up before that happens.”

“What, you’re not keen on life-threatening scenarios?” Ronan didn’t respond, and Adam felt a bit of genuine concern leak into his other thoughts. “Are you doing alright? I thought you of all people would be used to this.”

“Not keen on tight spaces,” he grit out, his teeth likely bared in that dangerous way that made Adam’s hands curl into fists. “Now fucking stop for a minute.”

They sat in silence, nothing but their breaths filling the space between them. The silence must have started to grate on Ronan because he broke it first.

“It doesn’t happen all the time, you know.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m telling you.” Ronan breathed something that sounded like dumbass. “Once, when I was small and out in public with my father. Declan was there, too. I can’t remember much of it. That’s the only other time.”

“Suppose it’s as good a story as any,” Adam said, his voice just a hint louder than Ronan’s whisper had been. “Glad I can hear it trapped in this minuscule closet with you.”

“You’re the one with the foot digging into my hip, not the other way around.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to put it, Your Highness?” He nudged his foot and Ronan surged forward, clamping a hand around Adam’s mouth and the other clenching in Adam’s collar, practically hovering above where Adam stretched out uncomfortably. Adam much preferred this almost-fighting to their pretending to be friends.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to die today.” Adam tried shifting to free himself, but Ronan had a firm grip and he couldn’t gain any ground. Instead, he licked Ronan’s palm, and Ronan was quick to drop his hand in disgust with a quiet noise of discontent. He found himself pinned with one of Ronan’s glares, the intensity tangible even in the dark.

“I don’t want you to die either, you sodding idiot. I’m not the only one in here. You talking is ruining both of us.” “Clearly you’re not, this might actually be comfortable without you and your ridiculous, showy muscles. But I didn’t realize you cared, sugar,” he said, thinking fleetingly of his mother, “if I was breathing or not.”

“Right now, your life is tied very closely to mine, and so I do.”

“Sweet as honey,” Adam taunted, thickening his drawl. Most of the time he tried to school his words into something a little more Northern, but he enjoyed the way the southern accent bothered Ronan.

“No peace, none at all,” Ronan muttered. “Not even in the looming face of death.”

Adam could have said the same, really. The last thing he expected to see from Ronan while shoved into a dark closet with him was any genuine emotion. But the stories, the fear in the enclosed space, the story of his father-

His father. Of course. 

“Was that story from your father?” He asked, although he already was sure of the answer.

Ronan’s response clipped. “Yes.”

His conscience was still mostly intact, and so Adam began to feel a little bad for picking a fight while in a stressful situation and then bringing up Ronan’s grief. “You’re a good storyteller.” Ronan’s silence was judgemental and disbelieving, so he persisted. “What, I can’t give a compliment? You are.” 

“My siblings and I had stories read to us like everyone else, Parrish. We’re not programmed, bland colonialism robots.” A pause. “Well, Mathew and I aren’t.”

“Of course not, imperialism comes first.”

“You’re welcome for the country, then.”

A brief silence followed. It felt, inexplicably, like the two of them had been toeing a line ever since Adam stood outside of Ella’s door and heard Ronan speak to her. They were inching closer with every word spoken.

“My father was the real storyteller,” he admitted, and Adam internally marked another inch traveled. “Since he was an actor and all. He always told us those stories even though he wasn’t technically supposed to. I just...imitate.”

“Imitate?”

“Yes,” Ronan said, providing no other explanation. “Why do you give a damn, anyway? You don’t want childhood tales and neither do I. You hate me.”

“We’re stuck like this forever,” Adam admitted. He’d known it before, but speaking the words made them feel more real. “Neither of us likes it, but here we are, shoved in a closet together. We have to pull off this act for the rest of our lives, Ronan, and I need something more than a cheat sheet your PR team slapped together.”

Ronan was eerily still for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Then why do you hate me?”

The question caught Adam off guard. “What?”

“Why do you hate me?” Off of Adam’s wary look, he threw the words back in his face. “We’re stuck together just like you said. I need some kind of answer.”

Adam sighed, acquiescing. “Do you remember what you said in Rio?”

“The fuck are you talking about, Parrish?”

“The Olympics?”

“When you threatened to push me into the River Thames?”

“No. You being a condescending dick at diving finals.”

Ronan was still for a long moment before bringing a hand to his shoulder and easing himself back away and off of Adam. “Oh. Shit.”

“So. You remember?”

“Vaguely.” A pause, elongated in the dark. “You heard?”

“Yes.” 

“So that did it, then?”

“Yes.”

But Ronan must have known he had more to say because he stayed silent. 

“I probably would have hated you no matter what,” Adam finally admitted, some low part of his gut feeling heavier with the admission. “It’s just - I wasn’t even the First Son then, and everyone was already comparing us. And it didn’t matter if they thought I was better or you were better or whatever, it was just - the idea of you bothered me, a white boy born with the power to make such change and unquestioning support from millions who was throwing it all away instead. And I’ve been compared to a shit ton of people in my life, from my mother to Blue and Gansey to just - everyone, but somehow with you, it was always the worst. So yes, it was the diving finals.”

“But it was also you being self-conscious?”

“But it was also you being an asshole.” 

“Yeah, it was,” Ronan admitted lowly, and Adam blinked at the admission. “I was - I definitely was one. I think I was one all the fucking time back then. It doesn’t excuse anything, but my father passed on...not long before, if you can understand.”

Adam didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, but he nodded all the same. He felt something in his throat tighten. “Of course. I don’t think I’d realized.”

“It doesn’t excuse it,” Ronan repeated. “I’m sorry.”

This was something heavier, truer than his other apologies - something beyond deeply-ingrained politeness that allowed him to apologize for petty things. It was as though he genuinely asked for forgiveness, like Adam had any real choice in the matter, like Adam’s forgiveness was something Ronan actually wanted. Adam never expected to receive a genuine apology from the Prince of England.

“I appreciate it. And I’m sorry as well. For...not realizing.” Ronan’s figure visibly relaxed even though it was barely visible.

“So, depressing Irish stories. Is that your default?”

“I’m afraid the Irish don’t have a lot of serotonin-filled stories.”

“There’s the English in you,” Adam said to a breathy laugh from Ronan. “Do you remember any more?”

“Probably couldn’t forget them, if we’re being honest. And not speaking to the press.”

“They hate me at the moment, so you have nothing to worry about.” He paused before he continued. “Would you tell one?”

“...why?”

“I don’t know. We’re stuck in here, aren’t we?”

“Be careful what you wish for. I’ll write you in as a Celtic witch.”

“I always thought I’d make a very dashing villainous magician. If that’s the price to pay, I can live with it.”

Ronan was silent, and Adam thought that he had given up on any conversation. However, he spoke again, his voice oddly light. “Once, the fierce Fianna believed in many things, none as much as the beautiful Eden laying in the Western Sea. Tir na nÒg, it was called, and the name passed between them like a secret.” Suddenly breaking character, Ronan said in his normal whisper, “That means “land of the living” for any uneducated parties.”

“Dick. Go on.”

There was something captivating in this new way Ronan spoke paired with the near-darkness and tight space of their closet. “Fionn, the leader of the Fianna-”

“Great naming process, by the way.”

“Shut the hell up or no story.”

Adam shut up.

“The leader of the Fianna led them to hunt the deer along the shores in County Kerry, including his son, Oisín. But Oisín soon caught sight of a single, bright light in the distance, all the way through the thick green of tree foliage. As it drew closer, he saw that the light was, instead, a beautiful girl with hair of spun gold astride a snow-colored mare. When Fionn inquired as to who she was, she informed them that she was Niamh of the Golden Hair, daughter of the King of  Tir na nÒg, and she had come to take Oisín as her husband-”

Ronan cut off abruptly, and Adam almost asked why, but a moment later he heard the source of the silence - heavy footsteps outside the door. Suddenly, neither of them breathed, instead choosing to sit in total petrified silence.

And slowly, mercifully, the door crept open, spilling cold white light along the floor of the cupboard and across their splayed legs. Persephone stood in the doorway, her expression relaxed once again.

“False alarm,” she said breezily, reaching out her hands to haul them back to their feet. Adam shifted uncomfortably on pins and needles as his legs shot back to life. “Fireworks, not guns.”

“Fireworks in a hospital?”

Persephone shrugged. “It was some teenager.”

“Always is,” Ronan said, dangerously close to a joke. He blinked rapidly, setting his shoulders back to stand at his full height. He slanted a look towards Adam, his mouth curving into something wicked but not intimidating, all bark and no bite. “Bonding is over, then.”

“Thank God.”

[noragami-ru-manga]

Some more thoughts about Father, I guess

I was hoping to give a short answer to this question by @holly-wee: Btw isn't it possible that Father only seen fragments of Yukine's memories because he's not a god? But someone clearly doesn’t know when to shut up.

To answer the question: yeah, that’s also a possibility. We don’t know for sure, so all we can do is speculate. Father could by lying that Yukine’s memories are fragmented. I ruled out this option because I think that if they were full, he would have taken Yukine to the fridge to really trigger the GGS. But the memories he got were not enough to piece everything together quickly and find that particular dump, so he chose to visit some of the other places. That leaves the other option: Father isn’t lying, the memories really are fragmented. I see two possibilities here. Either Father doesn’t know the exact reason why the memories are damaged, so he just assumes that it’s because a lot of time has passed between Yukine’s death and naming. Or, since he’s pretty knowledgeable about all this shinki stuff, he knows that Yukine’s memories could have started fading with time. 

Father getting fragmented memories because he’s not a god makes a lot of sense to me, actually. It’s true that he is able to name and use shinki, which is an ability exclusive to gods. But he does it with kotonoha, so we can’t be sure whose power is really in force here, his or Izanami’s. I’ve seen an interesting opinion that Father’s shinki aren’t truly his shinki, and the one who’s absorbing all of their pain is actually Izanami - and that can be the reason why Mizuchi (and now Hagusa, I guess) doesn’t blight Father or any other of her masters - because all of it goes to Izanami, the true owner of the kotonoha. Who, unlike other gods, can’t die from being blighted. So if Father isn’t using the brush to its full potential because he is not its owner, that could be the reason why the naming process didn’t go as smoothly for him, and he ended up having only bits and pieces of Yukine’s life instead of the whole picture. 

But I like the idea that Yato and Father got the same memories, because that would show how much Yato cares, piecing together everything to find that place and make sure that Yukine never goes near it.

Now, this is unrelated to the question at all, but since I’ve started talking about Father, I’m kind of curious about his “soul possession”. I was waiting for the official translation of volume 21 to see if there would be any big translation differences in Father’s monologue in chapter 80, ‘cause it’s kind of an important one. And while there are some pretty big discrepancies, this particular line sounds pretty much the same in both translations.

This is fast-moon’s version:

And this is the official one:

Father specifically says that he possesses Fujisaki’s soul, not body, in both versions of the translation. And we know he isn’t lying, because of this little episode with Hiyori.

Father was already out of Fujisaki’s body when Hiyori saw him - that’s why he had his usual black robes on and was riding on an ayakashi back. But when he started talking about Yato, his real soul slipped out of Fujisaki’s for a second, which Hiyori noticed and remembered. And since Hiyori, the character within the series, saw it, it means that it wasn’t some artistic depiction of how Father is actually Father and not Fujisaki, it’s something that really happened. 

And it’s a pretty unique situation, because the only other type of possession we know of is divine possession. But that one is highly specific - a god can’t possess just anyone, they have to share a bond with that human.

Father says he doesn’t get to choose, which must mean that the person whose soul he ends up inhabiting each time is a complete stranger to him. So it’s not really the same as divine possession. Also, now that I think about it, “inhabiting someone’s soul” kind of sounds like a description of an ayakashi. I believe there were theories about Father being a half-ayakashi who simply hides his cord beneath the robes. But what I just said here is similar to how full ayakashi function - they take control of someone’s soul. Father as an ayakashi is a really strange concept to think about though.

Does anyone else have any idea how can Father possess a soul?

[icy-warden]

Fire

On AO3

Brief mentions of blood and injury and the Circle of Magi alone should be a warning itself.

Some timeline to clear - Vergil's 7 when he's brought to the Circle, and in this fic begins with him being 11, then 13 and Blight times (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

His fingers look like something chewed and spit them out after it got bored. He can't straighten them properly without pain, the skin's burned nearly raw by now.

It hurts, of course it hurts.

After so many tries he still can't do it right without harming himself in the process. He lets out a shaky breath.

Basic spell.

They are to learn a basic spell. One he just can't grasp properly. But, before the practice of magic, there was the theory, so much theory. Reading still was something he struggled with, but four years in the tower and endless classes were bearing fruit. Past few months his writing got much better, but only because he was too stubborn to improve it after one too many quips and comments about his inadequacy. It didn't matter that he was given the chance and supplies to learn after he was brought to the Circle. A weakness is a weakness, something others can pick on as a distraction from themselves. Small things here are the most important to be wary of, he learnt that fast through the years.

The class started as usual, as the mage instructor ordered them to finally put the theory into practice and shown them how to do it, step by step. It isn't the first lesson in practical magic, but he still can't grasp the spell like he should.

It doesn't come to him, the focus on fire, as easily as the frost does. Ice is natural, it constantly sits at the tips of his fingers, ready to come out with a flick of a thought, but he isn't allowed to conjure it. He has to make fire and hold it, that's what the exercise is about. Follow the instructions and bring out the spark with magic. But he struggles with it every time to the point, he burns himself when the spark becomes too much to hold and he loses control, and it mercilessly bites at his fingers.

Again and again, splitting his skin, turning the pale flesh bloody.

He feels the tears of frustration prick at the corners of his eyes, quickly blurring his vision.

If he only was allowed to exercise with ice.

Who needs the stupid fire anyway? There are other ways to start fire, non magical, and why would he even use it. For lightning candles?

He looks up from his tortured hands, longer strands of his black fringe coming into his eyes. The mage instructor's correcting someone about their spell. Pronouncing the words right, using the proper incantation with intent and pull from the Fade. They had to learn and repeat the words for so many lessons.

And that was stupid as well. Why does he have to tell the words, when he can cast without saying anything? He only needs to focus. But, he was reprimanded about that already and encouraged to follow the teachings.

He still practices his magic without words when he knows he wouldn't be caught, but when he's like this in the open, he says the learned formulas. Or more like murmurs them. Spells never feel right then and they often backfire, costing more energy to hold them. He glances to the right feeling eyes on him, meeting dispassionate gaze of a templar watching over the class. He looks for a moment longer, seeing how the cold eyes of their guardian stare back at him, then slowly take in his scrawny form, huddled on a chair too big for him. There's faint a clink of an armor when the templar changes his stance, but doesn't move from the spot, merely staring back again.

He can't exactly stop the shiver when he quickly looks away, the faint curl of his fingers bringing spikes of fresh, dull pain. He sniffs wetly, trying again to concentrate on the spell. It's even harder than before and when the mage instructor finally comes to see his progress, he ends up being scolded, but thankfully without some stupid task as a punishment, and is told to get the salve for his wounded hands from the infirmary. He's allowed to go alone and breathes a bit easier, when he disappears from the sight of those unsettling eyes, letting his shoulders drop, when he knows he's alone.

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

There's a vice grip on his wrist and the mage instructor hisses almost directly into his ear, her voice clipped, light blue eyes widened a bit too much for only anger, splotchy pink spots appearing on her cheeks and neck. She's more twitchy than usual and Vergil stares back at her, steadfast, and bits his lip, doesn't say anything, his silence only spurring her tirade. If she grips him any tighter, she could snap one of the delicate bones in his wrist, and he winces briefly, when he tries to move away, but her fingers nearly claw into his skin.

By now they were practicing all kinds of elemental spells, and he discovered his affinity to lightning beside the ice.

Two years of the practice of this particular spell and his hands are less hurt than at the beginning, when he tries to conjure the fire with the way they teach them. But Vergil still has the problem with holding it without being burnt at all.

And now, he did something a student supposedly shouldn't have. He could swear it was an accident, but it wasn't, not really. He didn't think it would work like that. The first few tries of conjuring the fire up ended the same way as usual for him and in his growing disappointment at the failure, he thought about how the salve would feel on his fingers again (they rarely bothered with healing spells, plus, his own healing attempts were even more shittier than fire spells), and how he'd have to use it along with few strips of elfroot soaked bandages for next weeks, until the next spell practice.

And how he'd prefer to practice his own spells, the little things he thought of and brought out when unsupervised, sneaking the bits of things he read about in the books no one really looked twice at, because they were too complicated and useless and no one really needed them.

But it brought him here, with a crushing clutch on his wrist, a furious mage instructor and a templar, nearing on them, clearly interested in the commotion.

Ther was a drop of blood on the tip of his finger where the skin was scorched worst.

It happened, when he abruptly dropped the spell and it turned back to a bigger than usual spark of regular fire, just as the mage instructor grasped him, taking him by surprise.

Because Vergil was mesmerised, when he saw the colour turn from yellowish orange to white to nearly teal and blue.

Colour of lyrium.

The flame kept steady, so different than the normal one, and when it licked his fingers, it was cool, like the soothing feel of frost. His mouth opened in fascinated smile upon the discovery, eyes glowing with almost childish like giddiness, until his simple mirth was shattered with sudden movement and angry words spitted in low voice.

He was startled and hurt himself worse than usual and the blood happened.

Vergil felt his veins freeze, when he glances at the drop, hearing the clink of an armor, moving closer, closer.

He thinks about covering it somewhat, but he can't move much with his hand held in a grip, close to losing his nerve and crying out to be let go right now, hearing bits of the mage instructor's words, spewing about "irresponsible behaviour", "dangerous experiments" and "what was he thinking with conjuring that in a class full of other students".

There's a flurry of movement to his left, as someone bumps into the mage instructor and his wrist is free, throbbing with dull pain.

Vergil smells the sharp hint of ozone, feeling his wounds closing, a tingly sensation washing over the skin of his hands, and he sees dark eyes of a boy, who's now apologising about his clumsiness, but he absolutely had to ask the mage instructor something about his own spell casting, and had to do it now, and as he couldn't get her attention earlier, he decided to come over and tripped in a hurry, and if the mage instructor could help him with the spell now, please.

He catches the eye of the boy, easily deciphering the mouthed words of "you owe me", and grits his teeth when he holds the gaze with his own amber eyes, narrowing them in silent fury. There's a quick smirk on the pale face with those dark eyes, before the templar is upon them, asking what's the matter and, after some confused explanations later, Vergil is left with only a task as a punishment.

He spends the long monotonous hours of cleaning the old supplies storage thinking on motives of his unexpected saviour in the person of one and the only Florian Phineas Horatio Aldebrant.

Finn.

Vergil hates surprises. And being in debt of a snotty arrogant noble child? Even more.

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

Darkspawns catch fire easily, maybe even easier than animated corpses. The tricky part is to get them on fire big enough to drop dead and not rush at the party when being on fire. The darkspawns smell awful normally, and Vergil would like to avoid inhaling the fumes of their scorched flesh, as they would spread the fire in chaotic attack.

Regular use of mage fire is Morrigan's speciality, but since Vergil discovered his ability to conjure the other kind of flame anew, and work into perfecting it without interruptions, in his own ways, well.

Time to bring it onto the field, he thinks as he wordlessly calls the blue white flames, and lets them spread over his arm, their cool sensation feeling like water directly on his skin, despite the armor and gloves.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Alistair sounds worried as he glances at Vergil's arm, bracing himself for the fight beside him. He nervously steps away to the side, when he sees the flames getting bigger as Vergil prepares for a throw.

"No."

Vergil flexes his arm and throws the flames like a whip and they catch on the rags and pieces of armor the blighted creatures wear, expanding immediately. The enraged, wounded shrieks are piercing and stop the attackers for a moment, disorienting them and giving the pause needed for Warden's attack.

The arrows from Leliana and Zevran's bows hit their marks and few bodies drop crippled to the ground.

"You said it doesn't hurt!"

"It doesn't!" Vergil turns to look at Alistair, just before he launches another whip-like attack with blue flames, and he sounds cheery, but his smile has too many teeth to be called friendly.

"Not me."

[platonicone]

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 25 - Break it to save it

How can you ever repay someone for their kindness and love? I wonder…

Everything started swirling again. The next image to stabilize was of a cave in Fociaugh Hollow.

[This is it. Time to find out what happened to you Leon in that cave?]

“I feel weak because of the covenant,” slurred her words as her eyes closed. “I am so sorr--” her eyes were shut close even before she could finish that sentence. Her body went completely numb. Leon gently tapped on her cheeks, but she was unresponsive. Her body felt cold. He sprinkled some water on her face, but elicited no response from her. He quickly checked her pulse and his heart sank. She had a very low pulse.

“Oh no. Last time she collapsed after the covenant, it took her weeks to recover. What do I do now?” he wrecked his brain for a solution.

‘She would need to be in the care of a doctor. However, the closest clinic from here is back at Lestallum, which might still be occupied by the Imperials. We would travel all the way there just to be captured by the Imperials. Even if Imperials are not there, it will take a while to arrange for a car and get to Lestallum. I need something immediate to help her. What can I do?’

As he was wondering suddenly, a radical idea sparked in his head, ‘What if she gets captured by Imperials? They would immediately take her back to Gralea. Judging by the quality of their airships, they are bound to have state-of-the-art medical facilities. I can infiltrate Gralea and break her free once she has recovered. I’d rather her be captured than be dead.’

It was a risky plan, but that was the most pragmatic solution he had at this point. It would give Luna her best chance to survive. With his heart set on turning over Luna to the Imperials, he kneeled next to her and carried her in his arms. It was then he saw her trident; he had a eureka moment. An instinctive smile came on his face. “This has to work,” he said with a new hope.

He placed Luna back on the ground and pick up her trident. He closed his eyes to clear his mind and focused his energy.

He kneeled next to Luna and gently took her head in his hands, making sure that the trident in his hand does not hurt her. He leaned closer to her until their forehead touched.

A golden light begins emanating from where their foreheads meet.

“Blessed Stars of life and light, deliver us from darkness’ blight,” he spoke, hoping for a miracle.

It felt strange and unreal. He felt the energy from his body leaving. He slowly backed away and opened his eyes, hoping that Luna would do the same.

Much to his dismay, Luna still remained unconscious.

He had seen Luna cure people of their ailment with her blessing. He rationalized that he should be able to do the same since he shared some of Luna's essence.

“This was supposed to work. Since I have Ramuh’s divine energy in me, this should have surely worked. Did I say it right? Was it blessed stars of life and light or was it light and life? No, I am sure it was life and light.” He looked like a madman just talking to himself. “Maybe I should try it again.”

Once again, he held Luna in his arms and touched his forehead. “Blessed Stars of life and light, deliver us from darkness’ blight.” A golden light emanates from where their foreheads meet, this time with stronger intensity.

He felt a wave of dizziness and let go of her. She did not wake up, which frustrated Leon.

“What am I doing wrong? Is my healing power not transferable? It must be doing something because every time I do it, I feel weaker. Also, every time I touch our forehead, the golden energy radiates between us, so something must be happening. Am I not doing it long enough?” he wondered endlessly.

While wondering his mind even went back to Dr. K’s suggestion. ‘No, I am not kissing her, that’s a stupid idea,’ he shut down that thought even before it materialized. He was all out of ideas now.

“Maybe the third time is the charm. If it doesn't work now, I am turning her over to the Empire.”

He took Luna into his arms again and once again the golden light immediately started emanating around them. “Blessed Stars of life and light, deliver us from darkness’ blight.”

The golden light around them burned bright like fire. Leon was battling waves of dizziness with each second he held on. Determined to wake her up, he held on to her for two minutes.

[No! You are not supposed to heal for so long. Anything beyond one minute could be fatal.]

He felt as if his very consciousness was quickly shutting down. By the time he decided to let go of her, he felt his body go numb. His consciousness faded as he collapsed next to Luna.

‘No, no, no. This is not good,’ was his last thought before everything blacked out.

For a brief moment, both Luna and Leon lay unconscious in this cave.

Luna bolted up with a sharp deep breath. Her heartbeat was racing, and she was sweating profusely. Her eyes were still dazed, and she felt like the room itself was swirling.

“Are you okay?” someone asked, holding her from her shoulders.

Once the dizziness subsided, she became more aware of her surroundings.

“Luna?” asked the same voice again.

She looked in the voice's direction and within seconds the blurriness in her eyes disappeared, revealing Aranea supporting her.

“Arae?” Luna said, weakly.

“Yes?” she said. Aranea grabbed a bottle of water and offered it to Luna, “Here, have some water, it might help you feel better.”

She drank the water and sat quietly. Her breathing was slowly getting normal .

“Arae, I know what happened. I know how to save him,” she spoke softly.

“I am glad you found the answers you were looking for,” Aranea said rubbing her back. “What did you see?”

“I saw his love, pain, devotion, and sacrifice for me,” she intoned, pausing after each word.

“Hmm.”

“Arae, I need some time alone. There is a lot to process.”

“Are you sure you will be okay on your own?” She asked with concern.

“Yes. I am just a bit overwhelmed with everything that I saw.” Luna reassured.

“What did you see?”

“I’ll tell you later. But for now, I need to be alone.” Luna requested.

Respecting Luna’s wish, Aranea got up and made her way towards the door. She stopped when Luna called out for her. “Arae, could you do me a favor, please?”

“Yes?”

“Can you please arrange for a different cabin for me?”

“What?”

“Once he wakes up, I shouldn’t be with him,” she said, looking down.

Not wanting to probe any further right now, Aranea decides to comply, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Arae.”

“I will be next door. Call me if you need something,” Aranea stated while sliding the door shut.

Luna made her way to Leon’s berth and sat beside him.

In an empty cabin, it was only Leon and Luna now. Though she sat next to him, she felt light-years away from him. She was looking at a person who had loved unconditionally and all she did in return was to abandon him at the time of his need.

No coherent sentence formulated in the head. Her heartfelt tears screamed everything she could not voice. The music on the overhead speaker masked the sound of her wailing. She hugged Leon and cried to her heart's content. The music faded away and a new song picked up: Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips.

The lyrics of the song resonated with the pain in her heart. As the song played the memories of their time together flashed in her mind. She recalled all the times they had fought, loved, cared and sacrificed for each other. She realized that in every instance he had always done more for her than she did for him.

According to Luna, her abandoning Leon for a covenant with Ramuh was the defining moment in their relationship. He had every right to hate her after that. But even after that, he gave up his own health to heal her. That is not love. That is devotion. For once in her life, she wasn’t sure she could have such devotion.

Through her tear-filled eyes, she was looking at one person who had loved her more than anyone else in the world.

She started in a broken voice. “Though the fates may not allow us, my heart will always beat for you. You showed me what love is, how wonderful it feels and how easy it is to lose it. When confronted with a choice between love and duty, I am sorry I choose my duty. Words may never express how sorry I am for abandoning you. I pray that you forgive me. No, that won’t be fair, I hope I get to suffer the pain I have caused you. If I cannot even stand for the one I love, then I am not worthy of such love. Although I’ll never say this again in person, for whatever it’s worth, I love you, Leon.”

She caressed his face gently as if he was made of glass and would shatter with the slightest pressure. “I know this is wrong, but this is the only chance I’ll ever have. So just add this one more thing to the list of things I shouldn’t be forgiven for.”

She leaned closer and kissed him as if her life depended on it. Her brain and body experienced euphoria and pain simultaneously.

She slowly and reluctantly got and grieved, “I wish I had freedom to love you.”

She wiped away her stubborn tears, who refused to stop flowing. She moved close to him and touched her forehead to his. A divine golden light started shimmering from the point of contact.

“Blessed Stars of life and light, deliver us from darkness’ blight.”

She stayed in that position until she felt Leon stir. It gave her heart immense relief to know that he was conscious again.

Knowing that he will be awake soon, she got up and made her way to the exit. She held on to the door as a wave of dizziness hit her. Before stepping out of the door when she turned around to look at him one last time. As she slid the door close, she quietly said, “Goodbye. Leon.”

As soon as Luna closed the door to Squall’s cabin, she called for one person who had some answering to do.

“Shiva!” Luna growled in anger. She rarely referred to Gentiana as Shiva.

“The Lady called?” asked Gentiana, appearing next to her. Her eyes were closed as usual.

“We need to talk.”

“What is it that the lady wishes to discuss?”

“I believe you have something that belongs to Squall, Stiria,” Luna uttered with unmatched fury.

“How does the lady know about that?” Gentiana asked, clearly taken aback. Her eyes were now fully open.

“He might not recognize all forms of you, but I do,” Luna revealed, staring straight into her eyes.

“How does the lady know about that?” she repeated. “Squall never told you of that.”

Luna knew that one way or the other, Gentiana would find out her means to get this information so she revealed the truth. “I used Umbra’s powers to look at Leon’s past.”

“Isn’t that a breach of his privacy?” Gentiana calmly pointed out.

“You no longer have a moral high ground to tell me what’s right or wrong, Stiria,” Luna retorted with hostility unbeknownst to her. “You deceived him.”

“So, have you,” Gentiana shot back with a coldness worthy of only Shiva.

“I-I...,” Luna was at the loss of words. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t be hostile towards you without knowing the truth,” she remarked, shaking her head.

“It’s okay. The lady has nothing to apologize for. Her fury is merely a reflection of her care for the visitor. I am aware of how it might look like a betrayal without proper context.”

“Then please help me understand what is going on? Why did you do it?” she pleaded.

“Rest assured, I want the same as you. To safeguard the future for the visitor.”

“And how is taking away his Griever doing that?”

“Though my actions may seem devious, my intent was to ensure that history does not repeat itself. Last time he summoned Griever and along with the Usurper waged a war against the Astrals. I am simply taking away his means to summon Griever so he does not repeat the same mistake.”

“What happened during Omen? I beg of you to please tell me,” she pleaded. “I ask you not as an Oracle but as a friend.”

“Friend, you said?” Gentiana clarified. “Why must you be so concerned with the past for you cannot change it?”

“Past may not be changed, but it can be learned from. You had said that our fates have been intertwined for eons. Which means the last time I must have been there too. Since Squall rebelled against the Gods and fell from their grace, it means I wasn’t able to guide him to the right path. I need to know what I must do to protect him this time.”

“I have been telling you the means to save him rather constantly. Have I not?”

“What do you mean?” Luna had a vague idea of what she meant but wanted further clarification.

“Walk on the chosen path and fulfill your duty, that shall serve as his redemption too. Walking on your path would give him the strength to fulfill his trial as well.”

“What trial does he have to go through?”

“The one which he failed last time: accepting the will of God. He was entrusted by the Astrals to lead the fight against the impending darkness. He was the chosen one. However, when his beloved Oracle Stella was drawing her last breath in his arms, he prayed to the Astrals to grant her a new life. Unfortunately, we could not grant his wish. To him she was his world, but to us the world was a lot bigger than just them. If we grant her life then how can we deny someone else of the same privilege? He could not accept her death as part of her fate.”

Luna could tell that there was more to this story than what she was letting on.

“His choice to try to protect the one he loved over his providence plunged the whole planet into eternal darkness.”

Luna recalled Ramuh’s words, “His heart desires not for the protection of the star but for only one. That makes sense now.”

“If you have seen his memories, then you must know how he feels about you. Should you fall, do you think he will accept it as God’s will or challenge it?”

“The history will repeat itself,” she drawled, as the gravity of the situation dawned on her. “Which also means that he loved me last time too and he couldn’t let me go?”

“Yes, he loved you dearly the last time and for many lives before that,” Gentiana revealed. Luna wasn’t sure why, but she felt a hit of sadness in Shiva’s tone. “So long his heart is bound to you, he won’t be able to move on. You must release his heart.”

“You mean to say break his heart further than I already have?”

“If that is what it takes to save him, then yes,” she replied with coldness befitting Shiva. "Make him hate you."

“I think he already does,” she remarked as sadness clouded her features.

“He wouldn't have tried to heal you in Fociaugh Hollow if he did. I have seen his thoughts and feelings. He still loves you.”

Her words were supposed to bring her comfort but it brought a stabbing pain for she could not love the one who loved her unconditionally.

“You would do well to keep your distance from him. Push him away. Show no emotions.” Gentiana suggested stoically.

“I've hurt him enough. I can't do that.” Tears shimmered in her eyes.

“Sometime you have to become a villain to protect the one you love.”

She squeezed her eyes shut to stop her tears.

“The choice is yours. The closer you are to him, the more chances of him turning against the Gods when the time comes.”

“Why even give me a choice when I have none,” she lamented with a sigh of resignation as tears stained her cheeks.

Gentiana remained silent.

“Why did you bring him here, Gentiana? Wasn’t my life hard enough already? Why make me go through this pain?” Luna broke down in tears.

Gentiana moved close to Luna and hugged her. “I’ve learned that when someone is distressed, hugging them ease their pain.”

Luna cried on her shoulder while Gentiana stroked her head gently like a mother would do to console a child. This was the most human-like behavior Luna had seen from Gentiana so far.

‘Oh Luna, how can I tell you that it was you who brought him here, not I.’ Gentiana closed her eyes and recalled the events of that fateful day.

Luna was tending to her garden as with Umbra in tow when Gentiana approached her.

“Lady Lunafreya,” she called.

“Gentiana, it is great to see you,” Luna greeted her.

“Happy birthday, my lady,” she said with her eyes closed as usual. A small smile played on her lips.

“Thank you,” she replied with a radiant smile. It was her 24th birthday.

“I’ve come to learn that it is a human tradition to offer a gift to someone on their birthday. I bear no materialistic objects, but I can grant you a boon. What might my lady wish?” she offered.

“Oh, that is very kind of you Gentiana. I have everything I need.”

“Perhaps you do, but what is it that you want? What does your heart desire?”

Luna picked a sylleblossom flower from nearby and spoke longingly, “My heart desires only to be united with my one true love.”

A strong squall blew through the area. Lunafreya let go of the sylleblossom flower in the wind and its pestles were scattered in all directions. Umbra ran after one of the pestles and disappeared from the sight.

“When the time is right, you will be united with your love,” Gentiana declared, finally opening her eyes. 'Fate always unites you before ripping you apart.'

Author's notes:

In my 230k+ words of writing various stories this is the FIRST time I've let the protagonist kiss in my story lol

*Happy Valentines day*

Now back to torturing my characters. In next chapter we go to beautiful Tenebrae.

The answers from the last chapter:

1) Which game is Stiria from? (I had mentioned about her in chapter 17. I am surprised no one picked up on it.) - FFXIII

2) Which game is the book Durai Papers from? - Final Fantasy Tactics (one of my favorite games)

3) Which game is the book LOVELESS from? (This one is super easy) - FFVII

4) Which game is the book The Song of the Savior from? - FFXIII-2

5) What is significance of number 41,269 in FFVIII? - This is Squall's student ID number in FFVIII

6) What is significance of 1,370,000 Gil? (If you can answer this one, without googling, then you should be crowned as FFVIII Champion. This is a hard one.) - If you go to Dollet after passing SeeD exam. You encounter NPC at Dollet-Beach Stairs. When you talk to him he recognizes Squall as one who ran away from the huge robot and demands 1,370,000 Gil for the repairs to the city.

Please leave a comment and brighten my day. Thanks :)

Author's corner:

I wanted to give a shout out to YuukiAsuna-Chan, Anonymous person on tumblr, vifame, and Animefan09 for your constant support in this journey. I sincerely appreciate your comments and feedback on this story. Thank you :)

[itsclydebitches]

what are your thoughts nikosarc(.)tumblr(.)com/post/180209390472

In all honesty this is mostly just a reiteration of what I’ve been saying for about a week now, so sorry about that. But to summarize:

Is Ozpin keeping Salem’s immortality a secret “huge”? It depends entirely on what you consider most important: the morals themselves or how they change depending on the situation. Yang is someone who prizes the truth: all truth, right now, no matter the consequences. This is what she claims is important to her (and yes, that distinction is worth noting considering the secret she’s keeping - her core ethics right now are compromised) and, as stated previously, it’s a very black and white view of the world. A kid’s view. People keep secrets—big and small—for a whole variety of reasons and pretending that not telling the truth is an automatic blight on your character reads as incredibly simplistic to me.

I always favor context and try to acknowledge the complexity of an individual’s situation. If someone lies then they believe they have a reason for doing so, so what are Ozpin’s reasons here? Perhaps we don’t agree with them in the end, but acknowledging his thought process helps undermine the assumption that he’s lying solely because he’s manipulative. Or cowardly. Or just plain evil.

Since a lot of this is repetition I might as well just chuck it into list form. Reasons we know/can theorize that Ozpin kept his secret include:

The fact that knowing Salem is immortal doesn’t change the need to fight her/the grimm or that this group agreed to protect the world long before they knew about her. Their mission has not changed just because they’ve learned it’s harder than they originally thought.

The fact that knowing Salem is immortal does change their mental state and will make them panic. Like knowing about the relic attracting grimm, there’s only downsides to learning this information—especially when the monsters you’re dealing with are attracted to negative emotions.  

The fact that Ozpin knows from experience that telling people about Salem makes them give up the fight completely. Not only that, but these people then started actively working against him and were responsible for destroying decades of work. He’s not in a position to risk that again right after it all happened. 

The fact that Ozpin admits these reservations to the group and they dismiss his (justified) fears with absolutely no consideration, further demonstrating their lack of maturity when it comes to these matters. I’m not blaming the girls for their trauma, but they haven’t worked through it yet and that means they’re not in the right mindset to deal with such a complicated matter right now.

The fact that Ozpin is a human being who isn’t relaying dry facts but a mythic amount of trauma from his own past. Getting into Salem’s immortality means also explaining lifetimes’ worth of personal information. Take a second to think about the one thing you most regret, or the most devastating moment in your life. Now take another moment to imagine someone screaming, “Just tell me about it already!” It’s not that easy, is it? Even if the information is deemed important, that doesn’t change your emotional attachment to it. 

The fact that it would be practically and emotionally difficult to info-dump all this to a big group (especially without the help of a magic HD flashback from Jinn). 

The fact that Ozpin has had much bigger fish to fry lately: like adapting to another time he was murdered and then reincarnated, learning that an old friend betrayed him, getting his ass kicked in a battle, and dealing with a relic that’s now out in the open. On the list of “things we need to deal with right now,” informing everyone about Salem is nowhere near the top of the list.

The fact that he’s only just reincarnated with Oscar and probably doesn’t want to scare the kid senseless. We see in Volume 4 that Ozpin was as patient and caring towards Oscar as he could be and we see now in Volume 6 that he’s still having a crisis about his new lot in life. Chucking “Oh btw, our enemy is immortal” into the kid’s lap before he’s processed all this other stuff is kind of cruel.  

The fact that when the gang demanded this information it’s in the middle of nowhere, with grimm nearby, in the presence of a complete stranger. The girls are being beyond reckless right now and it’s not exactly a smart move to hand over sensitive information when tempers are running high.

The fact that he’s known this group (with the exception of Qrow) for about two-three years and has no reason to trust them with the biggest secret in the whole world. Especially when they can’t even demonstrate maturity long enough to speak about the subject calmly and rationally. Again, the kids all have PTSD. That’s not their fault. Them lashing out is expected—but that’s also why you don’t throw even more shit at them that they then need to deal with.

The fact that Ozpin did have a plan for beating Salem (building his schools, uniting humanity through fighting the grimm, presumably then calling back the gods for judgement) and he probably doesn’t want to be forced into the position of admitting that he doesn’t have a plan now. Because that reads as more damning than it actually is… and that is exactly what happened.

The fact that subordinates shouldn’t always have all the information that their leaders do. Sorry, but you don’t win a war by handing out secrets to everyone who demands it from you. Faith is not the same thing as blind faith—and it’s the latter that the girls are asking for.

Say what you want about how “He promised to tell them the truth!” but to me that reads as a blatant simplification of the situation. (Especially since Yang cornered him a bit with that promise. There’s an undercurrent of “If you don’t agree to my terms me and my sister are walking - and we’ll take the rest of your allies with us.”) If I were Ozpin? I wouldn’t have told them either. Not until later when I knew them better, they were older, more experienced, I knew they were committed to the fight, we were in a safe place, I’d found equilibrium with Oscar, and I was emotionally stable enough to divulge my own traumatizing past.  

As for the rest of the post? It’s just another misreading of the canon. We’ve seen them for weeks now.

Ozpin isn’t “throwing shit against a wall to see what sticks”—he’s always had plans. It’s not his fault his former friends betrayed him and helped destroy all that.

He is not sending ignorant people off to their deaths fighting Salem—these are all trained huntsmen who agreed to wage this war before they ever even met Ozpin. The inner circle are volunteers who further agreed to fight the Big Bad. And notably? Ozpin isn’t hunting Raven down, or Leo before his death. When people decide they’re done with the fight he let’s them leave. 

Pyrrha’s arc wasn’t about “saving the world” from Salem—it was about making sure that incredibly powerful magic didn’t fall into the wrong hands. If she’d been able to become the Fall Maiden and decided that she wanted to use that power to just fight grimm and not Salem herself? I have no doubt that Ozpin would have sent her off with pride.

Pyrrha didn’t die because Ozpin told her to save the world—Ozpin told her to leave. He told her not to fight. Pyrrha decided she could take on Cinder alone. I love her, but that was her own mistake. Ozpin encouraged the exact opposite of this.

We have absolutely no evidence that he “did the same to Ruby and Yang’s mom”—That’s Hazel’s logic: if you willingly chose the life of a huntress and you die on duty? Well, that’s somehow solely Ozpin’s fault. 

Absolutely none of what they’ve done is “essentially pointless”—Yes, let’s let grimm take over the world and let Salem have all the relics and give the Maiden powers to all her lackeys. If we can’t kill her that’s obviously the next best plan. Completely foolproof. Ozpin has kept humanity safe for thousands of years, safe enough that they’ve now flourished technologically and reached a point where they experienced an “extraordinary time of peace.” In what way is that pointless? 

Also, even if we don’t like characters, can we please not hope that they get beat on more than they have? Regardless of where you stand on the debate, praying that Jaune “gets a good fucking hit on him” after Ozpin already got it from Qrow—especially when he’s in Oscar’s body—is just plain not good.

But yeah. That got long. And it’s late now. Peace. 💚

[agent-hood]

There are Wondrous things, There are Magical things, There are Dangerous things

We get what we deserve

@the-roanoke-society

The mission was relatively easy on paper, and one Parker had been looking forward to. A possible genius loci popped up in the forests of the Pacific Northwest, and she was to go and observe. It was surprisingly hard to stumble across accidentally, but five people have still gone missing. Parker double checked her map and sighed in frustration- she had been out in the woods two days already, hiked majority of the western portion, and was no closer to stumbling upon the eldritch location than when she started. She glanced up at the sky, deciding it wasn’t too early to set up camp and transmit back her report. “Agent Hood reporting. End of day two concerning the mission, code: green-pnw. Still no sign of the target, designation ‘Eld fen’. I’ll wait another day and then try the east half. It’s frustrating,” She started. “It’s almost like the location is hiding. I’d say it sounds silly but... maybe not.” She confirmed the transmission was received and turned in early. She awoke with a strangled gasp, eyes shooting awake and body jolting in shock. For once, the first time since her incident, her slumber had been blank. No memories relived that she then had to catalog in excruciating detail, no lingering aches and pains from injuries outside this reality, just rest and slumber. Even more disorienting was that the environment around her was dark. Almost overwhelmingly so, except it was vivid as well. She could see every tree that surrounded her, every leaf on it, every star in the sky above. Two things were wrong with this: one- she had absolutely fallen asleep inside her tent (three hours ago according to her watch, but the level of pitch-black the sky was suggested it had actually been much longer) and was now outside and free of her camping accoutrements, and two- the sky was wrong. She didn’t hold the same fascination with the cosmos as Ellie did, but she was familiar enough with it to recognize that this sky was not of her world’s. There was not a familiar constellation above her, and any that could be discerned were drowned out by the overcrowded multitude of stars that seemed to blink and ripple as if they were breathing. This meant she had found the target. She was in Eld Fen. She rose to her feet slowly, feeling as sore and tired as if she ran a mile. Her walk was sluggish, but that allowed her the opportunity to take in more of her surroundings. The trees were a brackish brown, nearly red in hue, with bark soft and powdery to the touch. The leaves were an iridescent, deep purple that seemed to curl and shudder at her touch. She walked for what seemed like miles, only coming to a stop after tripping over a tree branch and getting her ankles tangled in it. “So pathetic.” A voice sneered. Parker couldn’t place it at first, not until the person came into view, which only confused her more as she had been the only one on this mission. “Morgan what’re you doing here?” “Lookin’ at the sorriest shit-show I’ve seen since the *last* time I had to bail you out of your mission.” “Morgan please, help me up I-“ “No.” Parker lowered her hand in disbelief. Morgan never had an unkind word for her, even when Parker deserved it most, so to hear her comforting drawl sound so curt was jarring. “Got a few things to say to you that’ve been jumpin’ to get out.” Parker groaned and fought to get up, more constrained by the roots than initially thought; but it was Morgan talking so she still listened intently- sure that it was important to the mission. “I shoulda left you in that ditch. Hell- I shoulda done us all a favor and slit your throat right there, saved us all the embarrassment. No one woulda found you. No one woulda cared.” The words stopped Parker. Oh god... she had always thought- but she never believed someone would have actually agreed with her. “You really think you’re so clever that we can’t see through your little act?” Ellie said. Parker tried to ask where she came from, but found herself growing too tired to question it too much. Besides she had to focus her energy on getting up. “You’re practically screaming for attention; every new conversation, every nice gesture, every. Single. Insipid. Smile. It’s all so selfish.” Parker screwed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the words, but they only drew closer. “You don’t actually care about us,” Raphaelle sneered, voice heavy with disdain. “It’s all some pathetic effort to be missed.” Parker wanted to get up and leave, argue, anything- but she was held fast in place, muscles asleep and weak. Plus... everything they were saying wasn’t exactly wrong. “You won’t be though.” It was now Ivar, staring down at her as if she were so small and pathetic. Like something to avoid on the sidewalk. ‘Not him,’ she thought desperately to herself, tears now leaking out in spite of her efforts to maintain composure. “Who could miss someone like you.” His deep voice enunciated, friendly accent gone and only sneering judgement in its place. “Cold, broken, judgmental. a little know-it-all who knows nothing. And you jumped into bed so easy- all it took was the slightest bit of affection. What does that say about you? You really think  I’m going to stay with someone who spreads her legs for a smile?” If her body held anything other than an exhausting hollowness, she’d apologize- beg for any sort of forgiveness, because they were right. Everything said was right. “You’re a blight on this agency,” Lilith said, as if she were stating a well known fact. “and you drag your mother’s legacy through the mud. So useless- you think I couldn’t have brought you back at any point? Why wouldn’t you stay gone?” “There’s a reason no one looked for you.” Kieran hissed, deep voice a twisting knife in her gut. “Dad...” She whimpered, squeezing her eyes tighter, not wanting to see how his face would twist and contort like the others. It was one continuous string of horrific familiarity; recognizable but too many eyes and teeth to be comfortable. “Any one of us could’ve went out and found you, but we didn’t. You were finally off our hands and then you had to come back. Ruined everything since- put your brother in danger because you’re such a child you need him like a safety blanket. At least until he does something you don’t like, then he’s discarded like an old toy.” His shadowy figure, blurred and amorphous but still recognizable, reached down and wrenched her face forward, fingers digging in to make sure she saw the hatred in his expression. “That’s my son.” He spat out in a whisper filled with the lethal intent she knew he was capable of when pushed to his limit. “The only reason I acknowledge you, is because he feels sorry that you’d be left out. Powerless and boring as you are, I’m ashamed.” Parker whimpered, unable to do much more than that. She saw Kieran change to Cthylla and she wanted to reach out, selfishly wanting him to stay despite all the times she told him contrary. “How dare you,” The Archivist hissed, face streaked with heartbreak. “You, a mere human, dare tread where I cannot. And dying where I cannot touch. How dare you take my love and spit in my face.” Wait... something was wrong. “You know what?” Carter started. “I’m glad you’re here, dying alone and far away from me! Maybe now I’ll finally get my own life and stop living under your fucking shadow!” “You’re not Carter.” Parker said definitively, voice weak and barely audible above a whisper, but it cut through the creature’s ranting. “That’s not how Carter feels. That’s how I feel that Carter should feel... this is all fake.” And as she said it out loud, her surroundings became clearer. Like a fog lifting, she was able to focus on more than the procession of hatred. She indeed was still in Eld Fen, alone underneath a strange sky, but she was tucked further into the roots against the horrid red tree. It seemed to exude a body-like temperature, and as She tried to pull herself free she found her body was practically caged. Entangled in it roots and covered in small, ghostly moss and luminous mushrooms ; Unsure if it was just blanketing her or growing from her. Further inspection showed that her body was emaciated, like she hadn’t eaten in two weeks, using the tree as a sort of life support with twigs digging deep into her body like IVs. That was impossible though, she hadn’t been here that long,... had she? So this was how she was going to die- fed on by a parasitic forest. This time she hoped she’d disappear with no trace, that no other agent would investigate and fall prey to this place. She would have been surprised at her calmness when faced with her imminent death but... she really couldn’t feel anything, even calm took effort. She closed her eyes in an attempt to slip away when she heard a frantic snuffling beside her. She managed to smile and whisper out Hampton’s name, having forgotten that he would be the last thing she sees when he comes for her. Always a good boy. Hampton began digging and pawing at the plants and lichen that enveloped her, pushing most of it away. Soon her body was free of most of its entrapments and enough of her strength returned to grasp onto his fur so he could drag her away. The farther she got from the tree the better she felt... to a point. She was definitely weak and drained, but now that she had her emotional and mental facilities back, she was pissed. She searched her pockets and was gratified to find her lighter. Normally she held a bit more reverence for nature and the delicate balance it held, which had only been reinforced by her training and dealings with the fae. But this forest needed to fuck right off. Despite the unsettling wetness of the tree, She successfully managed to start a solid fire underneath the roots, in the make-shift cradle where it caged her. Satisfied it would catch and spread, her only clue to this being a high-pitched shriek coming from... somewhere. she clung tightly to her wonderful, beautiful dog and allowed herself to rest, trusting him to take her where he may. ~ She came-to to heavy, comforting weights pinning her down. Hampton was dutifully laid across her feet, keeping her warm, and Carter was wrapped carefully around her, gangly limbs arranged so as not to disturb the various IVs and machines she was hooked up to. Ivar was on her other side- clinging to her as much as he could while still being confined to his chair- which meant he had been here long enough to not visit his main charging station. The walls were lined with chairs and shelves full of differing balloons and bouquets, all wishing her a speedy recovery. She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across her face, fueled by a re-invigoration she hadn’t realized she had been so missing. Unhooking herself as quietly as she could, she snuck out of the medical bay, only alerting Hampton (who immediately and silently stuck by her side) to the fact she was now up and about. It must have been in the earliest hours of the morning, as the hallways of the manor were dark and quiet. She slowly, still exhausted and worn to her limit, made her way up to Lilith’s office, hoping to get her debriefing done while it was still fresh, but stopped short at the sound of arguing. “-the ever-loving fuck was I not called in for backup when she failed to report for 48 hours?" A voice (clearly Kieran’s) rang out, “Just because you are related to her does not-“ “Hey guys,” Parker interrupted, keeping her voice casual in an attempt to break the heated argument between her father and Lilith. “Sorry to interrupt.” “What are you doing up luv? You need to get back to-“ Kieran flustered, immediately rushing to her side to (needlessly) help prop her up. Parker interrupted him, putting a temporary stop to his worry. “I’m fine right now, I just needed to debrief- Lilith, I think there’s more to that place than we initially thought.” “Ms. Jensen surely this can wait until you’re out-processed from medical.” “No I’ll forget something and lose it by then. I’ll fill out form 87-b(103) later, promise.” The grand matriarch of Roanoke seemed flabbergasted by Parker’s insistence, having never seen the smaller woman show any measure that resembled assertiveness. She sat in the nearest chair, almost surprised she did so, and listened intently. “Ok so we thought ‘Eld Fen’ was some sort of genius loci, a part of the land that held residual energy or intelligence, but when I was being fed off of- by the way it feeds on people, it would generate hallucinations to manipulate my emotions, so maybe it feeds on those specific chemicals in the brain?” Parker shook her head and continued. “Anyways it made me hallucinate that all of you were there, not all at once, it would just pick a person and say something, really dug into my insecurities, but when it formed to Cthylla, I think it recognized her. Like, more than who she was in my life- it said something about ‘going where she could not’, so I think it knew what* she was.” “Hmm, we’ll have to ask her to see if the Ry’lethians had any sort of place known to them that was forbidden. Or persons.” Lilith agreed, already coming to the conclusion Parker had clumsily hinted at. “Kieran, do wait outside for a moment. I have some private words to impart on our Agent Hood.” He left, reluctantly, and let Parker know that he’d be right outside if she needed. “You mentioned that it made you hallucinate people you knew, I’m assuming the visions said horrible things.” “Yes ma’am. I’m not sure exactly what, but I think it fed on things like ‘deepest insecurities’ so having people you know tell you what you’ve always feared they thought would be the best way to get that.” “...May I ask if I was one of the figures you saw?” “You were ma’am.” Lillith’s face fell imperceptibly, if Parker knew better she would have guessed she was hurt by this information. “I cannot imagine what that mirage told you, but I can guarantee it was false.” Parker bit her lip and thought carefully. She could have railed against her, demanding to know about all the things the vision brought up; it was clearly weighing on her. But hearing each and every hurt she held out loud, it made it seem so much smaller than it felt. “It doesn’t really matter if it is or not ma’am. Or at least it doesn’t matter anymore, not to me.” Lilith nodded then, and in a graceful measured show of affection, took Parker’s hands in her own and squeezed them. She punctuated the gesture with a soft kiss, brushing her knuckles with firm lips and clemency. But if she was granting or asking for it, Parker didn’t know. It wasn’t her place to.

[saomarathesavage-archived]

Never Write A Horror Story in Phone Texts, The Noatak Horror (part 4/Final)

Story under readmore for length, titles are not official just sarcastic placeholders

(Phone call to Elisi’s phone from Nadia twelve hours later)

Elisi: Yeah?

Nadia: Hi, it’s me. Just checking in.

Elisi: (not in the mood for nonsense) What’s your plan?

Nadia: Well, first of all, how are you recovering?

Elisi: Recovered. But now I’m worried.

Nadia: Is everything okay at the house?

Elisi: No. We’re basically stuck here. The frograt statues have been spotted closer and closer to the house, and I’m spying small minkholes everywhere. And I’m sure now they’re not dug by minks. More neighbors have been attacked or have seen even bigger frograts slinking around. Some are fleeing the area best they can, either going to the village proper or heading south towards the borough seat. The only way out of here is by plane, which can only leave one at a time due to the rough air space. So now I have a village with people in panic, desperately trying not to alert anyone on the internet or otherwise, and trigger happy neighbors on public land who heard about blood-drained Mr. Warren. So...

Nadia: I see. I’m really sorry. If everything was okay with the gyre tunnels...

Elisi: True, wouldn’t be a problem. The tunnels are infested. I can’t even get word further south that something might be wrong.

Nadia: Let me handle that, then. So, other than the distress, your family is okay?

Elisi: My family and the villagers? Yeah, physically, we’re all okay.

Nadia: Alright, good to hear. So, the plan.

Elisi: Yes, please.

Nadia: The Evlakeel thrive in cold climates and temperatures. Putting her somewhere warm will slow her down and possibly kill her. So, the plan is to try and teleport her somewhere warmer than Alaska.

Elisi: That’s a lot of places. Plus, if she survives, you’re basically making her someone else’s problem.

Nadia: Not if I kill her.

Elisi: Whoa. ....you serious?

Nadia: (chuckles) You think I shouldn’t, after you yelling at me this morning?

Elisi: I mean, yes, completely in favor of it, it’s just... that doesn’t sound like you. You couldn’t even kill Gunmar at Killahead.

Nadia: (sighs a “not this shit again” sigh) The point of Killahead was exile, not death. Even the Sword of Daylight couldn’t kill Gunmar. We had to put him in a bridge because killing him wasn’t possible.

Elisi: Right.

Nadia: It’s different this time. Saomara has a clear weakness. And I don’t think there’s anywhere in Alaska we can lure her to that’s warm enough to slow her down.

Elisi: Also right.

Nadia: So, my plan is to teleport her closer to the equator. Any children born in her new location couldn’t survive at all, and she’ll succumb to it. Then, we’ll be able to slay her.

Elisi: Okay, then, that’s a good enough plan. Where exactly are you taking her so we can warn anyone close by what’s about to happen?

Nadia: Arcadia.

Elisi: ...

Nadia: I’ve contacted the Trollhunter and told him of what’s about to happen. He’s ready to help.

Elisi: I would have said like Hawaii or a volcano troll’s layer where it’s... y’know... hotter?

Nadia: Like you said, wherever I take her she will become another area’s problem. I thought it was best to take her to the deadliest presence would guarantee her blight won’t spread.

Elisi: Um. You’ve met the Trollhunter, right?

Nadia: Yes.

Elisi: Jim Lake?

Nadia: Junior.

Elisi: Fifteen year old human kid.

Nadia: Sixteen.

Elisi: I’m gonna be honest. I have zero faith in the kid to be able to handle this.

Nadia: He’s a great Trollhunter, Elisi. He has a good heart, a foot in both worlds, and he’s been proven capable various times he’s answered the call.

Elisi: Alright, I’m still too tired to argue. But, I’ll come along to help. I get the feeling you’ll need all the help you can get.

Nadia: Yes.

Elisi: And Alora? Heard from her?

Nadia: Not for twelve hours. She was texting all through our phone conversation. I want to teleport her out of that nest first, but if Saomara or her whelps are touching her, they’re going to get teleported too. I’ve texted her to send a signal when she’s ready to go, but... nothing.

Elisi: Alright. I say do it. Find a secluded, secure spot and use the spell to call her to you.

Nadia: Already on it. I have to say, the Anchorage Trollmarket is oddly charming and everyone here is completely ready to accommodate.

Elisi: Wait... where are you, right now?

Nadia: Anchorage Trollmarket.

Elisi: When...? HOW?!

Nadia: Six hours ago. Gyre. I’ve told the elder to close the tunnels from Noatak, so they don’t use those to come further south.

Elisi: I don’t even--

Nadia: (happy chirp) I said I’d handle it.

Elisi: Still, I don’t know if that will stop them. The hatchlings are all digging tunnels around the gyre routes.

Nadia: At least we’ve cut off the path of least resistance. And once Alaska gets the Midnight Sun, the hatchlings should be dying in droves. Wait, do you get Midnight Sun in your area?

Elisi: Yeah, later in the month. It’s a good point. Okay, so you’ve got a spot set up for the teleport.

Nadia: Yes. I’m going to do it right now. I have swordsmen waiting outside the door should I bring Saomara or any hatchlings with me.

Elisi: Okay. I’ll leave you to it. Give me a call back when you’re done, alright?

Nadia: Will do. Talk to you soon.

Elisi: Good luck, Nadia. I’ll be waiting for your call.

(They hang up)

(Ten minutes later, Nadia sends a photo to Elisi’s phone. It’s a selfie shot of her and a very mauled and bloody Alora barely hanging on to consciousness but smiling and giving a peace sign with her only surviving arm. She’s just a head, one arm and torso; everything else has been ripped off and eaten.)

Nadia: (texts afterward) All went well. No incident. Alora’s being taken to a bone mender to rest. I’m exhausted but I’ll call you in a second.

(Call from Elisi’s phone to Nadia’s the second after the photo and text.)

Elisi: WHAT IN THE FUCK HAPPENED TO HER?!

Nadia: Calm down, she’ll be fine and regenerating once she gets some rest.

Elisi: NO! YOU DON’T GET IT! WE SHOULDN’T HAVE LEFT HER FOR SO LONG! WHAT IF SHE GAVE UP WANTING TO LIVE AFTER EVERYTHING THAT MONSTER DID TO HER?! SHE WOULD HAVE DIED! SHE WOULD HAVE ACTUALLY, PERMANENTLY DIED!

Nadia: (doesn’t answer)

Elisi: (sighs as she tries to calm down) Listen, I... I don’t blame you. You were just doing as she told you. It’s just... we really could have lost her.

Nadia: Elisi, she’s okay now. She’ll recover in time. Let’s focus on the one that did this to her.

Elisi: (growls) Oh, you bet I’m doing that right now...

Nadia: If the hatchlings are digging tunnels all over the reserve, that nest could be anywhere. Alora’s asleep now, so she won’t be able to tell us where.

Elisi: I’m not worried about that at all. We get her to come to us.

Nadia: How?

Elisi: She found us in the tunnels when the gyre crashed. Those massive amounts of hatchlings gave away our position to her. All we have to do is wait in a good spot and signal to the hoard where we are, and she’ll come running. It’s not a perfect plan, but it’s better than attempting to hunt her down.

Nadia: I agree. The Trollmarket here does have a lot of research material for me to work with. Once I knew what I was looking for, information on the Evlakeel was easy to gather. So, they are ambush hunters, and also are smart enough to spot and craft traps. Until Alora wakes up, I can’t figure out how smart Saomara truly is. If we set a trap, she may recognize it and act accordingly.

Elisi: What I’m hearing is, we need more time to figure out what to do.

Nadia: On my end, yes. The teleportation spell took a lot out of me, so I need to recover my magic. Alora will be asleep for a while, so she won’t be much help. Where are you right now? At home?

Elisi: Yes.

Nadia: Okay. If you want, you can start exterminations, attempt to take a census on the hatchlings, locate the nest, or help your town. You don’t have to stand around and wait for us, just don’t do anything rash.

Elisi: Okay. I’ll start figuring out how to take this plague down a notch or two. You two rest up. Call or text if you need anything at all.

Nadia: Eh-heh. That reminded me. Alora cussed me out saying that my calling her phone got her found out when she was hiding in the tunnels. Which was how she got caught and taken to the nest. Maybe put your phone on vibrate?

Elisi: Duly noted. When she wakes up, ask her what happened and how I might have wound up outside.

Nadia: Alright. I’ll go rest and take care of Alora. Be careful out there, Elisi.

Elisi: I know the entire reserve. I’ll be alright. Again, lemme know if anything happens or comes up.

Nadia: The same for you. Take care, sister.

Elisi: You as well, sister. Rest up. Talk to you soon.

Nadia: Talk to you soon.

(They both hang up)

(Text from Elisi’s phone to Nadia’s phone six hours later.)

Elisi: I can’t stay awake. Fol is keeping guard. I’ll call again in a few hours.

Nadia: Okay. Stay safe, sister. I’ll update you when you call.

(Elisi’s phone calls Nadia’s phone six hours from the text.)

Elisi: Hey, how are you?

Nadia: Refreshed. Alora’s awake too, fully regenerated but her legs aren’t working yet. (pause) ...she wants to talk to you, is that alright?

Elisi: Yeah, put her on.

Alora: (once the phone is passed to her) Sup nerd? You alive?

Elisi: (sigh of relief) I honest to God thought we lost you.

Alora: I’ll admit, I felt like given up the fifth time I was being eaten alive, but I got over it. Mostly out of spite. Man, this troll is a huge bitch.

Elisi: You got it to talk, I heard?

Alora: I just got done talking to Nadia about it, but yeah. Her name is Saomara. She fell into an icy river escaping trolls hunting her, and somehow got frozen in a glacier in the process. Thawed out and clawed out last year, based on her timeline. Swam here across the Berring Straight and dug herself a home in Alaska. And hibernated until now.

Elisi: Until now?

Alora: Yeah. Normally they just hibernate in the summer after laying eggs, but she was tired. ...her words, not mine. 

Elisi: I honestly can’t believe this thing can talk.

Alora: You and me both. Imagine me being pulled into its nest and eaten. I wake up and I’m eaten again. I wake up, and she’s all (speaks in First Tongue: “You don’t die, do you?”) and I didn’t answer at first. Like, what in the actual fuck, First Tongue, who even SPEAKS that anymore?! Then I answer in English, “Eh, I don’t feel like it.” She must have understood me, because she got pissed and ate me again.

Elisi: Hmm... had she said anything else?

Alora: Well, I asked her what her plan was. And she just said “Live as I always have.” So, she doesn’t plan on leaving. Probably not until everything in your park is dead. THEN she’ll leave and do it all over again somewhere else.

Elisi: Well, we’ve learned that her species will die in warmer climates. The plan is to bring her to us via a distraction, and teleport her to Arcadia. Myself, Nadia and the Trollhunter can kill her easily there.

Alora: I was also telling Nadia that this plan sucks balls.

Elisi: I know the Trollhunter is inexperienced, but in this case...

Alora: No, he’s not the problem. You’re not teleporting this bitch ANYWHERE!

Elisi: Why not?

Alora: She’s faster than she looks. You may not remember, but she chased me through nearly half a mile of tunnels and caught up to me pretty damn fast. I had to hide us in one of the tunnels she dug after our gyre crashed, and she was zipping back and forth trying to find us. 

Elisi: Oh yeah, how did I make it out alive and you didn’t?

Alora: So, in that tunnel was a way out. I had to climb and push you out first. Then my fucking phone fucking rang and gave my fucking position away and that bitch climbed right through and pulled me out.

Nadia: (off to the side) I said I was sorry.

Alora: It worked out. I got us some useful info.

Elisi: Anything else at all? You were down there for two days.

Alora: So, this bitch doesn’t give one flying fuck about any of her hatchlings. Not a one. That’s why so many of them are dead. They just walk into sunlight without knowing any better. Don’t develop hunting skills. She doesn’t do anything for them. I really thought, how is it these things didn’t go extinct on their own?

Elisi: They’re basically the embodiment of Darwinism. Survival of the fittest. The smartest. The ones that learned from the others are the ones who grow up and breed the next generation.

Alora: Pretty much, yeah. There’s some bigger ones down here, and some bigger than those, and a couple are bigger than those. And mama cares about THEM very, very much. If I even looked at one of them funny, she’d bite something off of me. And that happened A LOT. Eventually, I managed to make a knife and throw it at one of those bigger ones and mortally wounded it. Oh, she got piiiiiiiissed!

Elisi: And she ate you?

Alora: Worse. She sicced the bigger ones on me. All of them ripped me apart. When enough of me came back to text Nadia, she started realizing that I was calling for help all this time. She ate my hands, which included my phone.

Elisi: Well, that sounded like it sucked.

Alora: So, where was I? Oh yeah, so because she doesn’t care about her hatchlings, they won’t be coming with her. So, if she leaves the area, you’re gonna be mopping up the leftovers for at least a year.

Elisi: I can live with that. The source of them is gone, so eventually the rest will die off.

Alora: The bigger ones are also kinda her bodyguards at this point. We’ll have to kill those regardless, but they’re easier to kill than she is.

Elisi: That’s good.

Alora: But, she’s smart enough to sniff out traps. And set some of her own. So, yeah, coming back to the topic, teleporting her is gonna be harder to do. Next to impossible.

Elisi: So what’s your better idea, then?

Alora: I’m trying to get Nadia to approve it, but simply, it’s this. We teleport US instead. Nadia will teleport us to different parts of the gyre tunnels, and lure her to us. We’ll keep her running through the gyre tunnels until we reach Arcadia, and then we strike.

Elisi: You just said yourself she’s smart enough to see through traps. What makes you think she won’t understand what we’re doing?

Alora: Maybe she will. So, we give her a reason to chase us. We kill the bigger whelps, or the grown whelps. She’ll be so blinded with rage, all she’ll want to do is kill us no matter where we go.

Elisi: I’m still not completely sold on this idea.

Alora: She won’t drop eggs while chasing us, so there’s no reason to worry about whelps spreading through the Pacific Northwest. (pauses) I’m looking over the books and stuff Nadia found here, and jeez, these things are the duckbill platypus of the troll world. Like, why do you exist? Why does every inch of your weird self exist? Why?

Elisi: It really feels like she may know what we’re doing and stop chasing us.

Alora: I’m as skeptical as you are, but it’s either we try to teleport her out and fail. Or we teleport ourselves safe distances away and lure her down the tunnels gradually. Both have huge risks. If we try teleporting her, and Nadia fails, we’ve lost our only chance to do so.

Elisi: What about the teleport spell Nadia used to get you out of trouble? We can’t just take a gyre to Arcadia, find a secure, secluded spot in Trollmarket and say her name to teleport her to us.

Alora: You really think this bitch is so stupid to give me her real name after finding out I couldn’t die and was able to talk to her? You think they DIDN’T have rites of passage back then? Do you really want to take the chance of us believing without the shadow of a doubt that SAOMARA is her real name?

Elisi: You do have a point. But this is the safer option for us with the best guarantee.

Alora: And if it doesn’t work, what’s the plan then?

Elisi: (is silent)

Alora: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Elisi: The other problem with this plan of yours is that it sounds like you want to be there. I heard you can’t walk yet.

Alora: Yeah, it’ll be a couple of days until I can. So, you’re gonna have to carry me.

Elisi: (groans)

Alora: Also, that bitch ate my phone. Someone needs to buy me a new one.

Nadia: (off to the side) I’ll get it for you.

Elisi: And how much does the Trollhunter know about this plan?

Alora: Nadia is texting him after this to go over it with him.

Nadia: No, I’m not.

Alora: Oh, yes you are.

Nadia: We’re throwing a vengeful brood mother right on his doorstep. One that we can barely handle ourselves. Why would he--

Alora: Tell him this is a call.

Nadia: I’m going to text him, not--

Alora: A TROLLHUNTER’S call. Tell him after this.

Nadia: (is quiet)

Elisi: You’re really serious about this.

Alora: This is the only plan I can think of that will work the best.

Elisi: Me carrying your butt through the tunnels?

Alora: We’ll be teleporting.

Nadia: I can’t teleport all of us that fast.

Alora: Find a way. Find something.

Nadia: (is quiet)

Elisi: That’s... pretty much what this is riding on. IF Nadia can even do it.

Nadia: ...there is a way. First, I need a map of the tunnels. The latest one.

Alora: (barks at some nearby trolls in Troll to get a map).

Elisi: Alright. Listen, I need to check on my own extermination teams and be sure the village is still alright. You both work the kinks out of this plan and call me back later. 

Alora: Roger wilco.

Elisi: Hand the phone back to Nadia so I can say goodbye.

Alora: Alright. Later, nerd. 

Nadia: (once she gets her phone back) We’ll call once we come up with a better plan.

Elisi: Sure. If I come up with something, I’ll text. You two get some rest.

Nadia: I know we don’t have time.

Elisi: Yeah.

Nadia: So, we’ll try to make this quick.

Elisi: Yep. Same here. You two rest up, we’ll talk later.

Nadia: Okay. Talk to you soon, sister.

Elisi: Talk to you soon.

(They both hang up)

(Call from Nadia’s phone to Elisi’s an hour later)

Nadia: Hello?

Elisi: I’m here.

Nadia: First, how is everyone?

Elisi: Scared. The sun is going down. The hatchlings are scratching around the house trying to get in. There’s casualties of ill-prepared people going against these things... Either we finish this now, or wait for summer when they hibernate and try to snuff them out then.

Nadia: Either way, time is of the essence. If we wait for summer, she’ll dig her nest anywhere and we won’t find her until she wakes up. I’m ready to start Alora’s plan.

Elisi: You have a teleportation method? For a place you’ve never been to?

Nadia: Yes. So, the gyre tunnels in Noatak have tracks, yes?

Elisi: Laid those out myself, yes.

Nadia: Well, you put markers on them detailing where on the surface you are. And there’s similar markers the gyre itself is propelled towards when traveling from point A to point B, after setting the coordinants.

Elisi: (sarcastically) Great, you just taught me how a gyre works. Learn something new every--

Nadia: I can teleport off of those.

Elisi: ...

Nadia: There’s just enough of an electromagnetic wave signature for me to see and teleport to it. So, I’ve made a map of twenty two that I can teleport all of us to that is short enough to make Saomara follow us, and is the shortest amount of teleports that I can do.

Elisi: ...

Nadia: Elisi, we can do this. And we’re ready to go right now. Just give the word, and Alora and I will be at your location, ready to start.

Elisi: ...(chuckles) I honestly can’t think of a better plan. But I strongly don’t think this will work.

Nadia: It is our best shot at stopping this while we can. Besides, we have our three best immortals taking point, right? So what’s the worst that can happen?

Elisi: That this fails, the three of us are food supply for almost a million hungry mouths, and by the time they go to sleep in the summer, everyone and thing in the preserve is dead.

Nadia: So, no pressure?

Elisi: None. (sighs a tired sigh) Alright, let’s do this. Is Jim up to speed on this?

Nadia: He sounded nervous on the phone, but he’s ready. I’ve already given word to close down the gyre tunnels so we don’t get any unwanted surprises.

Elisi: Okay. I’m ready when you are.

Nadia: I’ll text him that we’re about to start. We’ll be at your location in five minutes, and down the gyre tunnels shortly afterward.

Elisi: Let’s do this.

Nadia: See you soon, sister.

Elisi: See you soon.

(They both hang up)

(Texting from Nadia’s phone to Jim Lake Jr.’s phone.)

Elisi: Jim, this is Elisi, Nadia’s sister. We haven’t met, but I’ll be the one giving you updates. Nadia will be busy hurrying to teleport points.

Jim: Alright, I’m ready when you guys are.

Elisi: Okay, here’s the skinny: We’ll be teleporting along 22 points on the gyre tunnels. Each time we teleport, I’ll let you know with the corresponding number, counting down from 22 to 1, so you know when to be ready.

Jim: Got it. Where are you now?

Elisi: At point 22. Next text will be the next teleport point. Be on guard, Trollhunter. She’s coming.

Jim: Good to know. :) (he is silently panicking on the inside)

(Five minutes later, Alora uses a music app to blast Rob Zombie’s “Superbeast.” This is the distraction.)

(Texts sent from Nadia’s phone to Jim’s phone, sent by Elisi)

Elisi: 21

(Two minutes later)

Elisi: 20

(Two minutes later)

Elisi: 19

(Three minutes later)

Elisi: 18

Elisi: Dammit, she’s onto us, one moment

(Five minutes later)

Elisi: 17

(Six minutes later)

Elisi: 16 16 16

Jim: What’s going on?!

Elisi: Killed a whelp. Pbly won’t have time to tx.

(Four minutes later)

Elisi: 15

(Fifteen minutes later)

Jim: Nadia? Elisi?

Elisi: 14. Dragging her back. 

(Two minutes later)

Elisi: 13

(One minute later)

Elisi: 12

Elisi: Nadia is tired, we’re hoofing it.

Jim: Be careful!

(Half an hour later)

Elisi: Back on track. 11

Elisi: 10

Elisi: 9

Jim: Guys?

Elisi: Gotta go fast!

Eisi: 8

Elisi: Almost there, get rdy!

Elisi: 7

(Ten minutes later)

Elisi: 6

(Two minutes later)

Elisi: 5

(Ten minutes later)

Jim: Guys?!

Elisi: Nadia is too tired to keep teleporting. We’re running. Almost there.

Jim: No, I need that countdown guys!

Elisi: 3

Jim: askdjfoiahgaihg

Elisi: 2

(Five minutes later)

Elisi: 1

(Two minutes later)

Elisi: Knock knock

(Video filmed from Nadia’s phone. Saomara is in Trollmarket’s dungeon on the rocky ground, pinned with several spears and surrounded by burning torches and bright crystals. There’s several stone eggs and stone hatchling bodies under her. Saomara is conscious and glaring at the phone.)

Nadia: Okay, making a record for later. It’s May 21, the last living Evlakeel is secured and detained in Heartstone Trollmarket. Killing it has proven more difficult than thought, seeing as Arcadia is in the middle of a cold snap. We’re waiting for summer weather in a few days, or finding a suitable place to exile her.

Saomara: (raspy, growling voice) Who are you talking to, witch?

Nadia: (pauses, then chuckles) This device I’m holding does more than call people. I’m saving my words into it so others can hear it later. For all time. You’re living history, my friend.

Saomara: I’m not your friend. Release me.

Nadia: I won’t. Not after you called me a witch. Listen to me, exile is a likely fate for you and whatever is left of your brood.

Saomara: (growls)

Nadia: We could kill you in a few days when the weather gets warmer. And California is known for it’s warm sunny days.

Saomara: (growls louder)

Nadia: We could also find a nice sunny spot to leave you, that should kill you right away.

Saomara: What is stopping you?

Nadai: Well... you. You’ve been a surprisingly tough opponent. Our Trollhunter is in the hospital now, my sister Alora is dead yet again, and whatever you left behind in Alaska is terrorizing my other sister’s family. You’ve spread us all pretty thin, so all that’s left is me.

Saomara: Think you so tough?

Nadia: Well, where are you right now?

Saomara: (snarls and tries to get up. She’s also in one of Nadia’s protection circles, which keeps her from leaving while Nadia is present)

Nadia: I’d advise you to get some sleep. Take solace in knowing that you live for longer until we decide what to do with you.

Saomara: The possibility of life, this is what you promise me.

Nadia: Maybe if you answer some of my questions.

Saomara: (growls again) I will not fall for your fake promises. I’m sure there’s many books about me, and my kind.

Nadia: There are. But it’s a shame. I was really hoping to learn more about you from you.

Saomara: I have nothing to say to you, witch.

Nadia: (pauses, then lowers the phone to turn it off) ... (in a sickly sweet voice to the phone) Please excuse me.

(Text sent from Alora’s phone to Nadia’s.)

Alora: (sends a picture of a living hatchling next to the “Welcome To Arcadia” sign)

Nadia: Oh no!

Alora: Yeah

Nadia: I’ll deal with the problem as soon as I can!

Alora: Sure, but I get the feeling this won’t be like Alaska. Once that summer weather sets in, they’ll drop like flies no matter where they are here.

Nadia: Still, I can’t take that chance!

Alora: Get ready for more of those frograt statues!

Nadia: Ugh! I can’t believe that name stuck!

Alora: I’m thinking of painting them myself and memeing the crap out of them on the internet.

Nadia: How’s your legs?

Alora: Great! Physical therapy is coming along swell. Should be out of here in a week.

Nadia: Okay, so I have until then to solve the frograt problem.

Alora: HA

Nadia: The name stuck, shut up!

Alora: (laughing while crying emoji)

Nadia: Anyway, you get well soon, I’ll deal with this myself.

Alora: And what’s the verdict on mama?

Nadia: We’re waiting for warmer weather, when she’ll be at her weakest. And then give her a formal execution. Also, Alaska should be seeing the polar sun soon, and when it does the remaining hatchlings in Naotak will have nowhere to hide above ground. Things should return to normal in a few weeks.

Alora: Admit it, you wanna keep one of these little fuzzballs.

Nadia: Absolutely not! They eat everything they find! They’re all too dangerous to leave alive!

Alora: Teasing. Do what you have to do. I’m just really really happy that everything worked out.

Nadia: Yeah. Best case scenario. Thank you, Alora.

Alora: Heh. Sister’s help each other. It’s only natural.

Nadia: Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?

Alora: I guess. Nothing on TV. I’m bored.

Nadia: I need to go take a census of these frograts and keep them in one area. Not sure how long I’ll be.

Alora: Take your time. Just lemme know when you’re done. I’ll snag a wheelchair and we’ll get burgers.

Nadia: Sounds good to me. Rest well, sister.

Alora: Take it easy yourself, Nadia.

Nadia: Bye.

Alora: Later gater. (winky emoji)

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Our last winter, 3/31

► Our last winter - Human!Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler. ► Written for @doctorroseprompts 31 days of ficmas. Day 3: Shopping. ► AU Verse, Teen. ► 1,717 words. ► A/N: This is a prequelle to Ghost of you.

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is time for home.” - Edith Sitwell.

Rose couldn’t focus on her work. No matter how hard she tried to explain the behaviour of the infected cells before her, her mind kept bringing her back to the tests she had done earlier. She was trying to find a reason of why she was late. Unlike Maxence, she didn’t have any hope of being pregnant. Somehow, she felt like she should have known it deep down in herself if she had been and it wasn’t the case. She hadn’t even been sick. She was just late, and being late happened to millions of women without them being pregnant. It probably just was her cycle being irregular once again. It wouldn’t be the first time after all. She wanted to be a mother of course. She was a former child of the system and she felt like being a mother could maybe fill this hole growing up without real parents had dug inside her.

However, she didn’t know which option would be the best for her: having her own child with the man she loved or adopting one of the many children impatiently waiting and desperately waiting for a family to accept them? Maxence was okay with both options. He had even told her that they could have their own children and adopt some to give them a better future. All he wanted was a family with her. She should bee happy to have such an amazing and devoted man by her side but there were days where she wondered if she deserved him. He was always saying he didn’t deserve her but it was actually her who should be happy with how the fate had decided to turn into her favour after the terrible events that had happened fifteen years ago. A dark period she didn’t want to speak about. Not even to the therapist of this lab.

A knock on the door made her raise her head from the screen she had been staring off at for the last few minutes. Liv was holding a couple of papers in her hands. Rose swallowed and unlocked the door. The doctor came in and sat down on the free chair next to Rose.

  “No sign of your husband?”

“He’s having a debriefing with Colin and Martha. Is that my result?”

“Yes. Do you prefer him to be here?”

“Is this bad news?”

“Depends on the results you’re expecting.”

  This was the vaguest answer ever given to Rose today. It wasn’t telling her anything about her results. She grabbed her beeper and sent a message to Maxence. It seemed like his debriefing was over since he came in her office with a master key.

  “I’m here. What does it say?”

  Liv glanced at them both and held the papers out to Maxence. He took them and slowly read every information printed on them. He was stone-faced and Rose couldn’t read anything which was making her even more anxious. Usually, she could read him like an open book. But Maxence was being very professional at the moment.

  “Honey?”

  Her voice was trembling and it made him take his eyes off of the results. He dropped them on the desk to wrap his wife into a tender embrace. He softly kissed her head and she leant into his touch. He was prepared to give her bad news. She could feel it.

  “It isn’t the time yet for us.”

“So it’s negative.”

  Her voice showed a bit of blighted hope. A part of her had hoped that it might be positive despite her certainty of it being negative. Maxence held her closer to him. He didn’t want her to be sad. They both were disappointed in this result but their world wasn’t stopping because of it. It would be for later. Now just wasn’t the time for them to be parents and they had to be patient.

  “Thanks, Liv.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Yes. We just need some time to accept it.”

  Liv nodded. She understood their reaction. She knew that the two of them wanted a family and she hated being the one breaking their hopes. She gently squeezed Rose’s shoulder before leaving the office so they could be together to comfort each other.

  “I’m sorry,” murmured Rose.

“What would you be sorry for?”

“I know you wanted it to be positive.”

“It will come in time. It just wasn’t now.”

  Now, they had to focus on their work and not on the family they were dreaming of. Except Rose didn’t feel like working anymore. This news was touching her more than she had expected it to. She hid into her husband’s arms as a couple tears fell from her eyes. Maxence rubbed her back. He knew that Rose wouldn’t be able to work. He had seen her in this condition many times before.

  “Come with me.”

  Rose didn’t object as he took her to the lockers room and made her change. They were taking their afternoon off. She didn’t understand what he had in mind until he took her to the shopping arcade of Piccadilly. They had decorated the whole street for Christmas but the lights weren’t on yet since it was still daylight outside.

  “Nothing like Christmas shopping to cheer you up.”

“If you’re paying.”

“No money.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“We should start with Liberty.”

“And naughty at that!”

  She gave him a tongue-poking smile and he smiled in return. He had succeeded in changing her mind from the news making her sad. Now, he was gonna be the perfect husband and followed her in every shop and buy her all the things she wanted. He soon was carrying many different bags and asking for a break to drop it all in the car because it was getting heavy. He didn’t mind about the money he was spending as long as his Rose was having a smile on her face.

  “They’re gonna light up the Christmas tree later. Can we stay?”

  He was putting all the bags away in the trunk of their car, making sure none of them would get crushed by another in the process. It was annoying him and he wanted to throw it all in a heap and deal with that later. He didn’t even have an idea of where they were gonna put all of this at home. They would have to think about it. But not now, later.

  “And a cup of one of these Christmas drinks with that?”

“If that makes you happy. I guess you’re hungry?”

“Always hungry, me,” he chuckled.

“Well, that snack is on me then.”

“We’re sharing the same bank account.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

  They laughed and Maxence finally closed the trunk once he was sure everything was perfectly tidy and hidden under the parcel shelf. He didn’t want anyone to steal anything from his car. Around Christmas, it was unfortunately a time for the poorest people to suffer from their lack of money and steal whatever they could to survive and make their family happy. This was why Maxence was always giving a little something to these people.

Rose grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers together. Maxence locked the doors and they both looked for one of these fancy coffee shops selling special Christmas drinks at an outrageous price. They managed to find one where there weren’t many people and got in line to order.

  “What do you want?”

  Maxence was looking at all the choices displayed on the lighted boards. They had a bit of time since the woman with kids before them didn’t know what to order either. He finally picked a Java Chip Crème Frappucino and Rose a Salted Caramel Brownie Cream Frappucino. She added a chocolate & nuts Christmas star for her big eater of a husband and a Cranberry Cheesecake muffin for herself to her order. She payed for it all with her own credit cards – even if they were sharing the bank account, it felt like she was the one paying just by pulling out her card.

  “Food shopping, that’s what I love the most.”

  Rose laughed as they settled down at a table to savour their afternoon snack quietly. She wasn’t surprised by these words coming from her Maxence. She had never seen someone eating so much and always being hungry. Sometimes, it was annoying her. Sometimes, she found it just cute. However, whatever the mood, she loved his self in its entirety…

Our last winter © | 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

Buy me a coffee?

[loghainmactir]

how does padril get along with others in the origin crew?? i love him so much i need All the info on him 😩😩

ohohoho!!!!! this is so sweet thank u so much!!! so, like, alphabetically:

alistair’s his best friend through all of origins; he actually harbours a lowkey crush on him but never gets the nerve to tell him (and alistair was too oblivious). they’re SUPER close, share everything with eachother, and they literally were practically attached at the hip. and then loghain happens, essentially, lmao, and alistair gets PISSED. they reconnect later but they’re never the same. that’s all in the fic i’m writing, though. :^)

dog (who he called dannan!) is his baby……….. padril spotted him post-ostagar and literally almost cried jsdgfnkjdfg.

leliana…………. he’s good friends w leli! originally, he was super unsure of her; like, haha, cool………. this shem thinks she can talk to the maker…….. ok.jpg……….. but they grow closer during origins. leliana was often there to encourage him & be a shoulder to lean on for him during the blight, and conversely, padril was always an ear for leliana when speakin about the maker and the chantry and her visions (even if he didn’t get it– i feel like not many other companions were too keen on it? lmao) and helped her get rid of marjolaine. they find eachother in inquisition again and cry together lmao

morrigan………… is difficult to answer. here’s the thing: padril’s super emotional, morrigan is….. not. i’m sure they warmed & respected eachother at the end of origins, but their way of processing situations and feelings is SO different (though they have some similarities!). padril lets his emotions take control of him often, he’s often unsure of himself, and he’ll ALWAYS help people no matter the cost. morrigan is the exact opposite– she bottles it all up, she knows what she’s capable of and she’s confident about it, and she doesn’t openly like helping people djfgndfgk. similarities wise, though, they both let other people decide shit for them– the dark ritual and padril as a warden In General. during the blight their relationship is tense and very avoidant, but at the end they both kinda sit down and they just go…. “well, it’s been a year, huh.” padril gets SO FUCKING MAD when he finds out about flemeth’s abuse towards morrigan, and morrigan just shrugs it off and that makes him madder, which is… difficult. but in inquisition, when padril arrives at skyhold, they wind up hugging it out!!

oghren: A BRO, a buddy!!! they’re both really warm to eachother and they were like that almost from the get-go!!! in the next chapter of my fic it shows a lot. padril appreciates his sense of humour (but doesn’t let him get away w nasty stuff) and his loyalty, while oghren appreciates that padril never stops encouraging, helping and believing in him. it’s a really brotherly, warm relationship they have where they drink together, snap at eachother occasionally, and then gross eachother out.

shale: kinda similar to oghren and leliana. padril doesn’t really get a lot of what shale says, BUT they bond over sarcasm directed @ shems and shale’s pretty, sparkly gems! padril misses shale a great deal, because their bluntness is something padril needs (and while loghain’s great for that, there’s nothing like being nonhuman and grumbling about humans together, lmao)

sten: another weird one. pad is super hesitate originally with sten; he slaughtered all those people, after all. BUT padril’s usually not judgemental without good reason, and he tries to figure out someone’s motives for stuff and then make a judgement on it, and he believes in second chances. he gets really close to sten as they work out eachother’s personalities and the backgrounds they come from. wanna know a secret? sten is the second person in the origins crew that padril tells about him being trans– he tells alistair first, and it comes up in a private conversation that he and sten have. sten is immediately like “ah!!! like the aqun-athlok!!!” and they both go !!!! at eachother lmao (in sten’s own sten way, lmao)

wynne: got on padril’s nerves, lmao. she kept butting in on his relationships and choices and often made pad feel bad about them. ESPECIALLY regarding recruiting loghain. padril felt like he was being watched like a hawk whenever wynne was in the party, and he didn’t appreciate it in the slightest. he likes her, but there were moments where he considered telling her to stick a sock in it because she could be so rude, honestly, especially re: zevran!!!

zevran: highkey padril almost fell in love with this asshole. they have a relationship through origins, but padril admits he’s not in the right place to go any further because the blight was a lot and he was scared he was going to either lose zevran or he’d die and leave zevran alone and he wasn’t ready for that. along similar lines to alistair, they were both really close and shared a lot with eachother. padril had to teach him how to properly unlock locks lmfao, and zev helped him with his dagger skills. but yeah, if loghain hadn’t shoved his ancient ass into the party, they absolutely would’ve been a thing post blight :^) he also looks after their kids occasionally & pad writes him frequent letters when he’s back in antiva!!