#(beyond the legend. beyond the reveal from light up the fire. beyond the idea of just surpassing rad weekend.) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shadowmaat · 2 years

Text

Growing a Legend

Mandalore was a blasted wasteland. Harsh winds whipped sand and bits of glass into a frenzy. Din was glad he'd taken the extra precautions to make sure his armor was sealed against the elements.

The twice-glassed planet had been razed of all but the most stubborn of weeds, which were about all that the Empire- and a bevy of thrill-seeking scavengers- had left behind. He wasn't sure how anyone was meant to salvage this place and make it habitable again. Domes no longer protected the wreckage of the cities; time and the elements had not been kind, though from what he understood of Mandalore's history, it had been a long time since this world had seen any kindness at all.

At least this wasn't his problem to fix. All he had to do was follow the map, find a way into one of the mines, and locate the waters that ran beneath it. Easier said than done when the mines had been collapsed and leveled.

It had been three days since Din had landed. He'd located several areas marked on his map as being beskar mines, but all he'd found was rubble, destruction, and no indication of any openings beneath the rock. There had to be a way, though. He had to find a way in so the waters could purify him of the sin of removing his helmet. And if there was a steadily-growing voice in the back of his head telling him that this wasn't necessary and that there was more than one Way to follow, well, he was still able to tune it out so far.

On the fifth day he found a collapsed entrance that still had a passageway beyond it. Filled, of course, but with a lot of hard work and copious use of the damn Darksaber, he managed to squeeze his way through and down to find that the tunnel opened up. He was having less trouble using the cursed laser sword and he hoped it was because his skill was improving rather than because the sword wanted him to get into the mines. That would be creepy, regardless of what the Armorer had implied.

Down and down he went, the crumbling walls gradually giving way to a more stable structure. There were signs of life down here as well; mosses and strange plants growing in forgotten corners, and the sound of things skittering away from his light.

He did his best to ignore the crawling sensation across his shoulders of being watched and kept walking forward. A stone ricocheted off his boot towards a side passage and hit something that yelped. His blaster was in his hand before he consciously thought to draw it.

"Show yourself," he demanded, even though whatever it was was likely an animal.

The boulder shifted and he could hear claws scrabbling before the creature slumped, letting out a small whine.

He moved closer, ready to fire in an instant, but as his light revealed the creature he'd startled, he realized it was trapped; wedged into a space too small for it. It mist have tried to squeeze through and gotten stuck, unable to move forward or back. Black eyes reflected the light and the creature wriggled, whining again.

It was reptilian, with mottled brown and green scales and a mouth full of long, sharp teeth that became visible when it opened its mouth to lick its snout. Din knew he should leave it to its fate, but damn, that was a hard way to go.

"Fuck."

At least he'd had practice in moving rocks. Now all he had to do was hope the damn thing didn't kill him for trying to help.

"Easy there, fella." He put his blaster away and eased toward it, splaying his hands so it could see he wasn't holding a weapon. "Let me help you."

He was sweaty and disheveled by the end, but it had been easier than he'd expected, and rather than attacking him, the creature seemed to sense he was trying to help and kept licking his gloves whenever his hands got too close.

The creature finally managed to wiggle its way free and ran around him, hissing and growling. He leaned against a wall to catch his breath and get a better look at it.

He had no idea what it was supposed to be. It came up to roughly his thigh and seemed to have small foreclaws. There were silvery stripes across its back, a barb on its tail, and little nubs that might have been tusks near its mouth. Or the beginnings of them. If it was a baby he hoped like hell its parent wouldn't show up to try and defend it.

"Okay, run along back to Buir." He made a shooing gesture. The lizard came over and sat on his feet, staring up at him.

"No." Din pulled his feet free and moved aside. "Your buir. Or your mate. Whatever. Shoo!" He repeated the gesture. It tilted its head, watching him.

"Stay." Din pointed a warning finger at it and started walking again.

Just his luck, the thing chirped and started following him.

"No. You can't come with me. I helped, that's it. Stay." He held a hand out, palm flat. It was a massiff training sign. Not being a massiff, the thing ignored it, coming over to try and nudge his hand with its snout.

Din sighed. "Fuck."

He turned and resumed his trek, ignoring the creature that continued to follow him.

It wasn't long after that he heard the sound of dripping water and followed it to find a small pool. Moss or something gave it a weird blue glow; just enough to see the outlines of the pool and parts of the ceiling overhead. He stared at it. Was this it? He'd thought it would be bigger, but maybe over time it had shrunk.

The lizard butted its head against his leg.

"No," he said automatically.

What was he supposed to do now? The Armorer hadn't really been specific. Should he take his armor off, or would that compound his sin? Did he need to swim? Soak? Was just getting in the water enough?

Sighing, he started to strip off his armor, stacking it neatly by the side of the underground pond.

"No biting," he said, lightly tapping the creature's snout as it moved to bite his discarded chestplate. It whined at him but sat back.

He paused, thinking long and hard before removing his helmet. If it was a sin, then the waters should clear him of that, too, right?

"Right. Here we go." Bracing himself, he stepped into the water. It was a lot warmer than he expected. Hot spring, maybe?

The lizard warbled at him as he moved deeper into the water.

"I'm fine," he told it. "Stay there."

He waded out, took a deep breath, and, closing his eyes, plunged under the water.

Nothing changed. He didn't feel any different. Was it working?

He felt a disturbance through the water and then teeth clamped onto his arm and started trying to drag him to shore. He inhaled water and stood, coughing as he tried to get the water out of his lungs and nose.

The lizard was attached to his arm, keening as it continued trying to pull him to shore.

"Easy," he croaked. "Easy. I'm-" He coughed again. "I'm fine."

It paid no attention to him, so he allowed it to "drag" him to shore. It ran circles around him, whistling and snuffling and sticking its snout in various places, apparently making sure he was okay.

"See? I'm fine." He had another fit of coughing before he continued. "Thanks for the rescue, little one." He reached down to pat its head. It leaned into his hand, burbling and licking him again.

"That should be enough, right?" He eyed the water. The ripples from his little exploit were already fading. Wiping his face, he turned and began the process of putting his armor back on.

His walk back up through the mine was cold, wet, and miserable. Even with the heating elements on high it wasn't helping a lot. The lizard was all but glued to his side the whole way. He kept telling it to go away and that it wasn't coming with him, but it wasn't deterred in the slightest.

When they reached the mine entrance, it balked, hesitant to venture out onto the blasted plain. Din thought maybe he was finally going to manage to ditch it, but a dozen yards out he heard a high-pitched squeal and turned just in time to brace himself as the lizard ran straight at him.

Din was knocked off his feet and the lizard scrabbled up, clutching at his chestplate and screaming. Its whole body shook, and Din's arms automatically moved to shelter it. He struggled back to his feet, still holding the lizard, and resigned himself to his fate.

"You're just lucky I'm not in the Starcruiser," he told it, pulling his cape around to provide it some shelter from the cutting wind.

It chirped at him, shoving its snout under the bottom of his helmet and nibbling at his reinforced gaiter.

Yeah, he was never going to live this down. He could almost hear Boba laughing at him.

#jedimindfic #mandalorian spoilers #tbobf spoilers #bobf spoilers #maybe someday I'll write part 2 #with the prophetic dream sequence #and Big Reveal that Din will HATE

25 notes · View notes

alicemitch09writes · 3 years

Text

the catastrophic history of us

PAIRING: ryoumen sukuna x reader

SUMMARY: This is a story of two people - one was destined to see all while the other was destined to be all-powerful.

They came from different factions of society, though not entirely different if you compare a humble hut versus the slums.

This is a love story.

But it is not a happy one.

A/N: This is a continuation and sort of prequel to 'written in the stars' which gives light on why exactly Sukuna killed the reader and what he meant by 'waited a thousand years for this'. It's been in my head for a while and was an idea I wanted to try.

From what I've researched, Ryoumen Sukuna is said to hail from royalty while some he was just there, so I kinda wanna explore more on his background and ended up crafting my own. I'm sorry if it's kinda cliche. I ended up using the already existing lore about him, but added a bit of my own to fit the story and the narrative I want.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

This is a story of two people - one was destined to see all while the other was destined to be all-powerful.

They came from different factions of society, though not entirely different if you compare a humble hut versus a grandiose palace, a benevolent being versus a power-hungry one, one who dances with the mystic arts versus one who challenges the fates, one royal highness and his royal spiritual advisor, - two very different beings destined to meet, destined to fall together, destined to be together.

This is a love story.

But it is not a happy one.

This is a story of two star-crossed lovers.

But again, to reiterate, this is not a happy story. There is no happy ending here.

Legends speak of a name, so feared and great that just the mention of it sent shivers down the spines of many – young, old, human, curses.

Just the mention of his name was akin to devastation and disaster, killing all forms of life regardless of status.

Ryoumen Sukuna.

Also known as ‘King of Curses’.

Call his name, and you are invoking yourself to a life of damnation, of no return, of death.

However, once upon a time, Ryoumen Sukuna was once a simple man.

A prince to be exact, son to the Great Emperor, heir to the throne, general commander of the royal army, and quite possibly, the strongest warrior in the land.

Once upon a time, Ryoumen Sukuna was a man of great power and privilege.

He could take soldiers with a swift blow of his sword, could conquer lands in a day, with only a swagger down the road that could bring the mightiest men quaking, could overpower just about anyone with only his presence - his menacing and great presence.

Wise beyond his years, versatile in combat, cynical, ambitious, and wicked – these were the traits of the soon-to-be Emperor? How unsettling. The kingdom would no sooner meet its demise and burn into flames than to shine brightly with a ruler with blood and warfare on his mind.

Many had thought so as well, yet did little.

For what can they do against someone who can promise dominion and power? They can all but kneel and acquiesce to his bidding.

He did possess a younger twin brother, but compared to his brother, he was passable at best. The brother doesn't talk much, says very little, but paid close attention to his surroundings, his companions, even to his older brother, whom he admired greatly.

It was sometime during his time as a prince when fate decided to play their hand.

But no one saw it coming.

Save for one.

The Emperor’s royal spiritual adviser, the kingdom’s revered onmyouji known only by the name (Y/N).

"That's quite the look on your pretty face, (Y/N)."

Sighing, the (h/c)-haired woman ever so carefully dipped her brush into the ink well before continuing her writing.

"Oya? No wisecracks this time?" the voice drew near, she could feel his hot breath beside her ear. "Is that any way to speak to your future king?"

Unfazed, she dipped her brush into the well again, careful strokes bleeding into the paper. "Truly not worth his royal highness' time if I even breathe or say a word."

Even without looking, she knows he's smirking. He knows he got what he wanted, ever the child.

Silence filled in. She, continuing on with her scrolls, and he, lazily perched himself awfully close to her side, sliding his gaze from her eyes, her face, to her kimono, to her nimble fingers.

From the first moment he laid eyes on her, he was fascinated by her very being. More so, when she revealed that she was to be the royal onmyouji with the ability to see all.

Technically, her position was better suited for a man, especially a man from a renowned jujutsu family – for trivial reasons.

However, no man could ever compete with one with an all-seeing eye, with impressive control of her cursed energy other than this woman, this strange woman.

No one else but her.

He would like to think that he became a man no long sooner after their first verbal spat, after their second introduction – having differing ideals and morals, never backing from the other despite their status. He and his twin had just turned 18, a prime age for the king to be. It was what drew them together in the first place.

From the moment their eyes met, he had unwillingly declared this fascinating woman as his and only his.

When she was finished writing, just as she laid her brush aside, a hand slammed on the table. She didn’t flinch, even as the man effortlessly picking her up into his arms. "Surely you must be bored from all that gibberish writing, eh?"

Allowing herself a genial smile, (e/c) eyes alit with life, she draped her arms around his strong shoulders.

"Must I remind you time and time again that they're readings?" Fingers slipped and carded through his locks, grabbing tufts of hair playfully. Tilting her head, she used her free hand to ghost over his strong jawline. “Your great kingdom would crumble would it not be for said readings. Lives would be lost. Blood will be shed. Your name tarnished and damned-”

"Blah, blah, blah, is all I can hear you say," pushing her against the wall, he welcomed himself between her legs, drawing himself ever so close to her. “Don’t you ever get tired of spouting bullshit?”

“Surely you would know,” she gasped as something hard pressed against her core. “that’s all your mouth is good for: running your filthy mouth.”

He met her smirk with his, hot breath fanning hers. “And here I thought you’d be this docile diviner.” Scoffing, he drew close. “Thank fuck I was wrong.”

Hot lips pressed against hers, just as the ink dried out and the shadows danced in the dark.

"We order you to join forces with us destroy Ryoumen Sukuna."

"I refuse."

Even she can't deny that the man she loved was a danger to everyone, probably to all of humanity. He was quick to be enamored with power, sadistic even in his means to achieve greater feats and exploit his foes.

Eventually, she saw how the man she came to love drastically turned into the cynical, malevolent King of Curses he was.

Mad with power, ambition, and glory, in order to achieve all and more he sought out the dark mystics that made him murder his younger twin brother granting him his grotesque figure - two faces, added appendages, and dark marks littering his body.

It started with a vision. Then came the prophecy.

Overnight, a brother was murdered in cold blood by his own, through his blood spawned the King of Curses.

Many months were soon bathed in more blood as he sought nothing more but destruction and chaos,

In the end, she knew what she had to do, what must be done, what must happen, what was foretold – even if it ends up breaking her heart.

"Could you do it?"

"...I have no choice."

This is it, she thought. The end.

The end of the beginning.

Fire licked throughout the field, soot rising from the ashes, craters, devastation lurked wherever the eye could see. There was even the occasional ice covered in blood, sometimes encasing

It had been a long, treacherous, arborous, and exhausting battle – sorcerers and Imperial soldiers against fellow sorcerers and curses.

Jujutsu sorcerers – especially the high-ranking ones from esteemed clans, set aside their petty differences for this one battle, to put down the King of Curses.

Ryoumen Sukuna.

It was a hard-earned battle, as Ryoumen Sukuna had with him a rather interesting set of warriors to fend off against them.

But finally, they got him.

In the middle of all this madness and bloodshed, a victor was finally declared.

And it wasn’t him.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?" He screamed, binding spells forcing him to his knees, his whole body weakened and paralyzed by countless battles and countless spells against him. “(Y/N)!? HOW COULD YOU!?”

She forced herself to hold him down as the sorcerers around her continued their spells.

Amidst it all - the undeniable pain, the humiliation of being pinned, the utter betrayal - Ryoumen Sukuna turned to her and only her, red eyes burning her very being, as though ready to incinerate and devour her on the spot.

At the front line, that’s where she was to be – supposed to be, as she was their leverage to get close to the King of Curses.

She was leverage at best, the one thing that can keep Ryoumen Sukuna down - despite the countless claims that no one and nothing can do so.

"In this life, know that you were always the man I hold closest to my heart, the warmth on a cold winter's day, the joy from a day's tiresome work. There is no one but you, Ryoumen Sukuna," she was openly crying now, uncaring of anyone and anything. "But in this life, we cannot be."

The spell had been cast, paralyzing Sukuna, allowing the rest of the jujutsu sorcerers to attack.

With the final blow, she poured a bit of herself into her final, most powerful spell. Sealing him and vaporizing any memory of her in it, emptying his being until he was but an empty husk.

"YOU BITCH! YOU LIED TO ME!" Despite being in constant pain, his body slowly reddening and wax appearing all over, he found it in himself to spout angrily at her. "WAS EVERYTHING A LIE!?"

Memories upon memories - of their first meeting, their first verbal spat, their next meeting, him cornering into a corner, of their first kiss, of their first night, of their many nights, of promises under the sheets, of eyes searching, of eyes yearning, of eyes hurting - voided one after the other.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU DEAD, YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He doesn't mean it, she tells herself, adding more spells that caused him to scream in even more pain.

"Y-YOU FUCKING BITCH! I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!" His eyes were blank, regarding her with all the hatred man could possess. "YOU'LL BE THE FIRST PERSON I KILL THE MOMENT I GET BACK!" choking on blood, he feels himself weaken. "I SWEAR IT! I'LL KILL YOU THE FIRST MOMENT I GET!"

A sob escaped her, as much as she tried to swallow it down. To no avail, she cannot fake her remorse, her pain. She knew it was the right thing to do, for the betterment of all – humans and sorcerers, but it cost her so much sorrow and pain.

"Nothing is a lie," she croaked, feeling the last of her energy leave her, tearfully gazing into the eyes of her beloved. "But I have to say goodbye."

And just like that, the King of Curses was no more.

And when the fighting was over, the Seer vanished without a trace.

It came abruptly.

Without warning, without a sound, without a whisper, without a call.

The end of the beginning.

Of when fate decided to try its hand with life, changing the course of all.

For a thousand years ago, the jujutsu society was at its high boasting about great families within their ranks and a seer to guide them all.

The seer, who were specialists in the mystics and great beyond, who helped build empires, defend against curses, win wars - the great seer revered, respected, and treasured.

Alas, this seer fled, vanished, and doomed the jujutsu society.

For without her visions, how can the sorcerers ever know of the truth and lies that the future holds, to protect them from whatever threatens them? Of the corruption that would soon waste them away? Their arrogance and overdependency on her visions became their downfall, yet few could actually attest to that.

The jujutsu world was a strange, fickle, archaic, and destructive kind with an equally disturbing system. A system unwilling to change, unwilling to adapt, willing only to lead by example.

After her disappearance, they were left with crumbs to pick up, on where she'd be for their next life - for without her visions, how would they be able to secure safety for themselves?

(how selfish of them)

Lo and behold, a thousand years later, and she would appear again, outside of Japan and born half a Gojo! What tremendous luck they have!

Without wasting another second, they sent their best sorcerers to abduct the child and took her by force from her mother, bringing her all the way to Japan.

Only they could have their hands on this seer, one they've waited for thousands for years, one who remains theirs, rightfully theirs, one who has to atone for her sins of leaving the jujutsu society vulnerable all those years ago.

Yes, this child must bear the sins of her ancestors, must live a life for the future of the jujutsu sorcerers.

She is theirs.

Theirs and theirs alone!

But alas, Gojo Satoru caught wind of the other Gojo, singlehandedly took her from them and took her under his care.

How dare he!

So long as he was alive, no way would they ever get their hands on the seer, the great diviner, the all-seeing eye!

How dare he!

Gojo Satoru who manages to effortlessly insert himself in situations he shouldn't be, halting or stopping decisions entirely, establishing his presence as the strongest sorcerer - a title that many of them cannot deny, with much disdain, he, who is without a shred of doubt, a threat.

The Gojo seer continued to live her life, foolishly and blissfully unaware of her true value. Foolish little girl!

The past and present converged into one another, tightly wounding and bounding, meshing and mixing in between the seems, for a future nobody knows, a future nobody is prepared for, but a future nonetheless for all.

However, unbeknownst to all - even to the jujutsu higher-ups, the Great Gojo Satoru, and his beloved little sister, the future in store was not kind. No.

It's as though the past comes back to haunt, to call out for sins to be repented.

Strange as it seems, it all went according to plan - Gojo Satoru finding out about his sister, Fushiguro Megumi sent to Sendai, Miyagi to fetch a cursed object and meeting Itadori Yuuji, Itadori Yuuji ingesting said cursed object and hosting Ryoumen Sukuna, reviving the King of Curses after a thousand years. Yes. Marvelous. All according to plan.

The characters were set, ties looming into each other. Glorious.

It was inevitable, that these characters had special ties connecting them with each other, keeping their lives intertwined, for such was the plan for the grander scheme of things.

There was nothing.

A sea of nothing.

Endless nothing.

It went on and on and on and on and on and on.

It was a nothing that comforting, a nothing where nothing existed, a nothing where nothing was felt.

It was a nothing with that - nothing.

The perfect word for it would be void, however, voids can still have something in them.

And there was red.

A field of red spread across, going on forever and ever and ever.

Curious, she got to her knees to inspect. A flower, it was a red flower with six umbels and a long stamen, blooming outward, as though seeking life. Fingering through its petals, her eyes followed along millions of them spread.

Suddenly, a cold chill ran down her. For some reason, she looked up, meeting nothing.

And yet, she remembered the feeling dwelling in her in a sea of nothing.

Yes, she remembered this feeling.

She knows that feeling.

"Where am I?" a voice cut through the nothing.

In front of her stood someone who looked exactly like her, except, one pair of her eyes had the trademark Six Eyes of the Gojo clan, there was a streak of white running down the right side of her hair, and she was dressed in clothing much different from hers.

Recognition fell upon her, blinking calmly as a faint smile graced her lips.

“Who are you?” asked the girl.

Her smile turned sad as she approached, crushing the flowers under her feet.

The same recognition fell unto her mismatched eyes, but probably not the same kind of recognition she had.

With the gentleness akin to a mother, she eyed the girl before her.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her voice echoing in the dark. “I’m sorry to have cursed you – all of you,” confusion crosses her face, it hurts her even more. “to have you all carry my burden." The red all around them seemed to glow, a vibrant, blinding red. "I’m sorry.”

Confusion continued to riddle her features, which makes this meeting just more bittersweet.

And then came rain, pouring down on them.

It washed over them, over the flowers.

And then nothing.

Come a thousand years later, and there they were.

A promise foretold, enacted finally.

He, a man resurrected from the dead, free from the curses that kept him away, taking what was rightfully his with her beating heart in his.

And she, a shell of a woman in the form of her now empty descendent.

At last, he had his comeuppance, at last, he got his revenge.

As he devoured her heart, feeling the remaining pieces of his powers return, as did the memories. What a cruel twist of fate.

Suddenly, his mind felt like a rush of water downstream. He could feel his immeasurable power returning, could feel in pumping his veins, yet at the same time, there were tears.

Elsewhere was Fushiguro Megumi, screaming over and over the name of the woman he had just killed – a scream of desperation, anguish, and pain. Why did it sound so familiar?

Finding a blackened uniform, hovering over a body laid in her own pool of blood, the boy continued to scream and scream.

Fushiguro Megumi was a man he couldn’t wait to see at his full potential for battle, another in his list of to-kills, having shown great potential as a jujutsu sorcerer and as part of the wretched Zen’in. But this was far from the man he knew, all he saw was a weeping boy, a boy who lost his mind as he was grieving, begging over and over a corpse, the corpse of his beloved.

Satisfied, he should be, right? Yet, why doesn't he feel it? Why does a part of him feel a great loss? Why does a part of him feel as though he was the one with a ripped soul?

A flash of white came to view, standing next to the crying boy, his stance was rigid, apart from that nothing with his back turned.

Kneeling, Gojo Satoru let his fingers press against the dead girl's eyelids, closing them shut. His hands fell to her cheeks, engulfing them in his large fingers, lingering, thumbs caressing her ice-cold cheeks. Once filled with warmth and life.

"Megumi," says Gojo Satoru, cursed energy just radiating off him. "mind if ya take yourself and (Y/N) aside?" lowering his blindfold, his cursed energy increased in power, reeking of maliciousness. "Things are about to get messy."

He met Gojo Satoru's murderous look head-on, finally getting that fight he long promised him.

And yet, as he stood there, tears leaked from his eyes.

Even with all his powers returned, him being at his full glory, his heart felt more hollow than before.

#ryoumen sukuna x reader #clairvoyant!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #angst #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fic #alicemitch09 writes #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk angst fic

58 notes · View notes

odisn · 3 years

Text

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 Æ𝐒𝐈𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋 .

( Thor Odinson’s undoing , Thor Odinson’s sacrifice . )

many will argue for years to come about Thor’s decision ------------------- on the one hand , he should have ignored the history between Jötunheimr and Ásgarðr , removed arrogant thoughts from his mind , and led as a strategist instead of a warrior . and on the other hand , the five doomed tasks were foretold , a closing chapter in Thor’s life as prince , king , or even leader of the realm . without fulfilling that destiny , the nine realms would never be free of war and conflict .

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 : five years after Ragnarøkr . Thor and the Asgardians have settled a few miles from Grundarfjörður , Iceland , Earth , and have successfully rebuilt their realm , with Thor leading as the King of this new Ásgarðr .

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 : the conflict takes place in the depths of Jötunheimr .

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Útgarða-Loki , also known as Skrýmir , by which he will be referred to in the remaining text .

a giant's giant , a truly vast creature , the ruler of all of Jötunheimr , though legend has it he wasn't born on that icy realm , but came straight from Ginnungagap ; born of a point where mist , ice , and ash meet in those dark , gaping jaws . he has and always will be Thor's greatest adversary , one that Thor hasn't been able to defeat , and likely never will . the last time they fought , Skrýmir referred to Thor's mighty force , with the indefatigable Mjölnir , as a mere sensation of something falling from a tree , and landing on his body .

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 : Skrýmir is one of many creatures Odin --- through Thor --- wronged , hundreds of years ago . a battle that was only initiated because of the Æsir’s long - standing hatred towards the giants , and one that seemed to escalate unnecessarily , leaving many Jötnar dead . Thor’s battle with Skrýmir ended with Skrýmir shamed , throneless , and exiled for his remaining lifetime , until he found himself a chance at redemption .

Skrýmir learned of the death of Odin , and decided to take this opportunity to exact his revenge on Ásgarðr , but principally , Thor . revenge not as a means to kill ; for killing the one who not so long ago saved so many realms from Ragnarøkr could initiate a war detrimental to the Jötnar . but instead , revenge as a means to strip away title , a home , a people .

Thor has a dream in which Skrýmir summons him to Jötunheimr --- and initial deliberation confirms that this could be the setting for the fateful five tasks , the ones that may see Thor in ruins . the king of Ásgarðr argues that not heeding to Skrýmir’s demands may be detrimental in and of itself , as it could lead to another war when Ásgarðr least expects it . plus , on Midgardian soil , the humans could be the ones to pay the price . he makes the decision to leave at first light for Jötunheimr , setting off with Loki , and two other warriors , Þjálfi and Röskva . he fully expects to fight , as is the nature of the dynamic between the Jötnar and the Æsir .

at Skrýmir’s castle , Thor , Loki and the others walk through the vast halls ------------------- and end up barricaded in by legions of Jötnar and monsters , essentially trapped in this room , to listen to Skrýmir's request .

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃 : I wish to regain my title at Jötunheimr's throne . I cannot do this while you , Thor , Son of Odin , remain King of Ásgarðr --- you are my undoing , my fall from power , as I intend to be yours .

so here is my demand : four challenges , of your choosing , in whichever feat you believe you can defeat either myself or a warrior of my choice . if I win all of these challenges , I regain my rightful place on the throne of Jötunheimr , and you lose your place in Ásgarðr . you're exiled from your lands until your dying breath . if I lose but even a single one , you remain king , and i'll concede .

choose not to participate , and I will kill you all , and send my armies straight for your new Asgardian home .

relieved at the mention of four , not five , challenges --- and with conditions that seemed too easy , Thor agrees , and they swear an unbreakable oath , on Odin’s name , to the terms in this demand .

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒 .

𝟎𝟏 . Loki , understanding that these challenges could revolve around anything , challenges Skrýmir to , essentially , an eating contest : Skrýmir agrees , choosing a being named Logi to compete against the trickster god . given meat to consume , Loki uses their sorcery to double the quantity on their opponent’s table , thus slowing Logi down , but to no avail . unbeknownst to Loki or the other Æsir , Logi is not a normal being , but a physical manifestation of FIRE , specifically of Múspellsheimr ------------------- the very fire that ravaged the realm of Ásgarðr during their doomsday . and this fire cannot be stopped , cannot be slowed . Logi defeats Loki with ease .

𝟎𝟐 . Þjálfi decides on a race of speed , attempting to run a race against anyone Skrýmir chooses . a being named Hugi competes against Þjálfi , and across three races , Hugi wins every time ------------------- running so fast that he meets his opponent several times in the overlap . again , beyond the awareness of the Æsir , Skrýmir cheated and chose an opponent that represented THOUGHT , a manifestation of memory and idea , which no - one could possibly outrun .

𝟎𝟑 . Thor opts for a drinking contest , claiming he can deplete any vessel within minutes , regardless of volume . two horns are filled with water , but Thor finds himself exhausted after only three , massive gulps . again , the giant cheated , having filled his horn adequately but connecting Thor’s vessel to the oceans of Miðgarðr , which kept the horn full no matter how much Thor drank .

𝟎𝟒 . angered by his loss , Thor picks another challenge , spotting a small , cat - like creature in the corner of the room . the challenge he opts for , strategically simple : if he can lift the creature , he wins . Skrýmir , amused , agrees ------------------- but try as he might , Thor only succeeds in lifting a single paw , the pet surprisingly heavy , immovable . under the guise of a cat , this creature was actually the serpent Jörmungandr , which had unlocked itself from its coil around Miðgarðr moments prior to Ragnarøkr , and now wandered free along the world tree , finding itself in the land of the giants at this moment .

it should’ve ended there , but the prophecy dictated five trials , one way or another --- and Thor , enraged , was eager to redeem himself and win back his title to the throne . they only needed to win a single task to bring Skrýmir down , after all . unanimous decision for a final trial seals their fate .

𝟎𝟓 . Thor picks a challenge around his best trait : his strength . he demands a fight with a giant in the hallway --- and is jeered in response by all , implying Thor’s too weak for such a serious battle . he persists , threatens , and in the end , Skrýmir concedes , mockingly finding Thor the oldest , frailest giant in the castle . it should be a clear victory ; but Thor finds himself struggling to best the opponent , and eventually falls to his knees , defeated . it’s at this point Skrýmir reveals his tricks , and speaks about how Thor wasn’t fighting a giant , but instead a manifestation of OLD AGE , which no soul in the nine can evade .

it’s with this bright flash of light the Asgardians are sent back to Earth , the immediate disappearance of a castle , of armies , and of Skrýmir , replaced instead with a feeling of loss , of dread , of defeat . Skrýmir’s damning final words linger in the skies , the atmosphere around them :

“ now , for your sake and for ours , leave Jötunheimr , leave Ásgarðr , and never come back . ”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 : having sworn an oath on Odin , Thor knows what he must do . instead of returning home , he sets out across Earth ------------------- but not before holding a council with Loki and their companions . together , they decide to leave Ásgarðr in the hands of Brunnhilde . ( verse dep. this would be Sif’s rule , given she is the rightful queen of Ásgarðr ) Loki will ensure the realm’s safety .

and Thor instead , loses title , and his right to the realm , and becomes instead a protector of Miðgarðr ------------------- living in seclusion in a cabin in the forest , somewhere across the world , his location unknown to all but one or two people .

initial stages of reaction are difficult to control : Thor finds himself perpetually enraged , saddened , and full of regret at his loss . there’s talk of storms that blanket entire countries , deluges of rainfall bringing talks of the apocalypse . he drinks more than he should , gains weight , and refuses to speak to others .

but over time , Thor grows to accept his fate , relieved at the fact that the prophecy cost no lives on either side , aware of the part he played in ensuring peace , even if it was at a cost to him . he grows more attuned to nature around him , emerging into civilisation only to meet friends , keep the Earth safe , or to feel connected with the new home he’s made for himself .

#arc. skrýmir.#long post #me writing this vs me knowing no-one will read it #kjhfkdjfhkdjf #anyways following raggers this is the verse #I will adopt #because it's perfect lumberjack thor setting #and also #it fits better following raggers as opposed to the endgame verse I had #just because it felt a bit weird jumping from myth - inspired to solely mcu #but ! I am keeping the endgame verse for ease of plotting / writing #I just ... yeah so here we are. Thor : protector of earth #cryptid in the woods #no longer a king or a prince or anything really #a sacrifice he made for his people #and potentially for peace across the nine #following this there's no more trouble #between giants and asgardians which is the whole point #that's not to say other bs doesn't go down but #thor's paying for not only his actions #but the actions of his father #and it's okay it's fine he's fine #this is a massive wip still. I will likely edit as I go #because there's so much in here that I wrote on a whim and haven't like ... really validated skjfhkjsf #it probably sounds messy as shit and I apologise for that #coloured text #colored text #huge thanks to kelsi @liesmth ; nell @falcaps #lyssa @corechaos and calamari @airbornegoldenboy #for reading over all my stuff and making sure it made sense !! <3

28 notes · View notes

soybeantree · 3 years

Text

pairing: do kyungsoo x (reader)

genre/warning: mentions of death, adoption, fluff, myths and legends!au

word count: 6k

description: the woods were much, much older than the stories about him, and the magic that brought a child to you was told to be eternal. but the bond between you and kyungsoo would outlast them both.

a/n: december installment of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is gone’ series. - x

White covers the wood. The branches bend under the weight of the fresh snowfall, and the floor glistens like a diamond in the sunlight. The air holds the chill of the first winter snow, ready to burn lungs and bite cheeks. But silence filters through the trees. The first humans have yet to wake and leave their mark in the pristine world.

You walk through the wood, your footsteps making neither a sound nor leaving a trace. You wave towards the snow and encourage it from branches which are ready to snap. You place a hand upon the trunks and listen for the sound of the hibernating occupants. You are the Queen of the Winter Wood.

A bird chirps on a nearby branch. Its blood red feathers are a shock against the white. It cocks its head to the side and chirps again. You nod, and it flies to another branch. You follow the bird through the wood until it stops on a tree with a large white mound beneath it. The bird whistles one long sorrowful note.

Brushing aside the snow, you find a shock of dark hair. You pause and whisper an apology. Winter must come. The world must rest for a season and be replenished, but some things find their eternal rest in winter. You brush away the snow until the tiny figure sits huddled before you. Lips of dark indigo are pressed together while snowflakes glue eyes shut. Leaning forward, you place a gentle kiss on each eyelid and one upon the mouth. As you lean back, the blue lightens and the eyelids flutter open to reveal white irises.

“Good morning little one.” You greet as skin thaws and fingers move. She blinks. “The world is very different today. If you would like, you can come with me. I have a place for you to stay

where you can find your place in this new world.” She watches you, her gaze appraising your thick cloak of green velvet and the forest of gold thread embroidered upon it. Her cloak is nothing more than patches held together with thread and a prayer. It was no match for Winter’s first snow. You offer your hand, and she grasps it.

As she follows you through the wood, she glances back at the way you came and at her feet. “It is best for us to leave no trace.” You explain. “Humans come up with all types of frightening stories about the winter.” The black of her irises nearly obscure the white when you mention humans. “Like you, I was human once, and like you, I am no longer.” Her grip tightens, and you squeeze back. “There is no need for fear. Neither you nor I are monsters. Perhaps, I should tell you how I became the Queen of the Winter Woods. I think it would help with your fear.” Her lips, the color of the noon sky, purse, but she nods.

The woods pass around you. The trees come to life with the sound of birds. Tiny creatures scurry across the snow, leaving their tracks. “I wonder if I should start at the beginning or the true beginning.”

She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Her brow furrows as she tries again.

Patting the hand securely held in yours, you encourage her. “Your voice will return with time.” She scowls and kicks at the snow, leaving her first mark. You pause and crouch down beside her. “I know this is confusing. Change is always confusing at first, but it will get better. In the meantime though, I will make my questions easier to answer. One,” and you hold up one finger, “I can start at the beginning. Two,” and you hold up two fingers, “I can start at the true beginning.” She holds up two fingers.

“The true beginning starts here.” You spread your arms to encompass the wood. “When I was a little older than you.” Standing, you retake her hand and continue on your way.

Your mother and father lived in a small town at the southernmost border of the kingdom and beyond the Winter King’s reach. Only when the townsfolk boasted that he would never dare come to their town did snowfall. The townsfolk stopped boasting and shushed any who thought to mention his name. Your mother was from the north where the Winter King holds dominion. She had been content to live with a snowless winter when she first married your father, but after you were born, she bemoaned that her daughter would never know snow. So, one winter, they travelled north to spend it with your grandparents.

You loved the snow. Each morning, you woke early and would stay out until dark. You would return to the cabin with frozen toes, chapped cheeks, and cracked lips. Your grandmother would laugh as she rubbed lotions into your abused skin and tease that if you continued one day you would return a snow maiden.

The first day in the snow, you met Kyungsoo. He was your age, you guessed. You thought him an orphan because he had no coat over his thin frame and no cap on his dark mop of hair. He refused to warm himself in your grandparents’ home, as well as the coat off your back, even though you said you had another at home. After accepting that he was fine in the cold, you two began to play together. He would ride on your sled; you would build snow forts; and you beat him in every snowball fight.

One week was all you had with him. Your mother came looking for you. Night had fallen without your return. She screamed when she saw you with Kyungsoo and fell on her face. He told you to go with your mother, and then he was gone. Your mother was in hysterics by the time you reached the cabin. You had no idea why your always happy mother was crying and screeching and refused to let you go. You were scared and wanted to go to your grandmother and have her rub her lotions into your skin – your feet were hurting – but your mother held you close as she continued to sob. The next day you left and never returned. Your mother never mentioned snow again.

“That is the true beginning little one.” You finish as you reach your sledge. “It paints a bit more frightening picture than how the story ends, but that is how it happened.”

Her reaction to your story is lost in her amazement of the sledge. She stares mouth open, her hand slacks in yours. The spray of a summer fountain, frozen and spun like sugar, form the body of the sledge. The ice, delicate enough to fool one into thinking it fragile, grabs the sun’s light and glows, promising a false warmth. At the helm stand creatures of snow and air which appear as reindeer when they choose to appear at all. They appear now for the child’s wonder and shake their manes, sending fresh snow upon the ground.

“I would be happy with the sled I had as a child, but my husband gifted me this as an anniversary present. So, I use it.” You shrug. “At least until I decide to learn how to travel on the winter wind.”

Throwing a wink at the girl, you lead her forward. She shies away from the ice. “I suppose you must think sitting on ice will be cold.” She nods. “That was when you were human. Does the snow feel cold upon your toes?”

She glances at her feet. In the excitement of the morning, she had forgotten the holes in her shoes. Her toes have trudged across the wood without any discomfort. She shudders, and you place a finger under her chin, guiding it up.

“I know little one. Remember what I said about change?” She does. “This is another change. This one is a little harder. I still go out in a cloak with a full lining of fur.” You raise the hem of your cloak and brush it against her nose. She gives a soundless giggle. “But I have no need for it. Would you like a ride in my sledge? I promise it is faster than any sledge you have ever seen.”

You climb in first, covering the seat with your cloak. She nestles and wraps the cloak around her shoulders. The reindeer race across fields of fresh snow. The world blurs around you, wind buffeting your cheeks and dancing through your hair. The reindeer run on, knowing where to go without any prompting from you which is good as you never did learn to drive a sledge. On your journey, you continue your story, starting with the beginning.

When the snow appeared on your doorstep on the first morning after the Autumnal Equinox, your father brushed it aside with a smile. “Winter will come early this year,” he said, and you nodded because it eased his shoulders.

When you went into town, you glanced at the doorsteps of the shopkeepers, but none had a pile of fresh swept snow beside them. You knew better than to comment this to your mother. Her smile grew tight across her face the further you walked, and you feared it would tear her cheeks. She rushed you through errands that morning, and when you returned home, she locked herself in the bedroom with your father.

They argued. Their voices carried into the living area where you sat darning a sock by the fire.

The words lost their meaning as they travelled through walls, but you could guess at them. Snow on the doorstep. The Winter King. You shivered despite the fire. Your fingers numbed, and you could no longer feel the needle between your fingers.

Throwing the unfinished sock back in your work basket, you stood and headed to the kitchen. Dinner needed making, and your mother had enough worrying her. You began the preparations, and when your parents finally emerged, dinner was ready. You ate in silence. The stew tasted of snow and sent a chill through you.

As you climbed into your bed ready to sleep and wake to find this day had been a dream, your mother came and sat down beside you. She wrapped your hands in hers. They were warm, but their warmth failed to sink into you. A sob slipped from her smiling lips. “Everything will be okay.” She promised as she placed as a kiss on each finger. You laid in your bed shivering beneath an extra quilt and wondered why she should make such an impossible promise.

The next day the snow returned, but now it covered the full yard. Your father swept it from the doorstep and shoveled a path to the front gate. Your neighbors paused on their way and whispered to one another. Their words were lost on the wind, but you could guess at them.

“Snow in Autumn. The Winter King comes calling.”

“What?” The word shocks you from your telling. You blink. The wind whistles as you fly across the Winter Plain and could have tricked your ears, but the face gazing up to you has the question etched into every feature. “Is your voice back little one?”

She opens her mouth and a croak slips out, so she nods ‘yes’ then ‘no’.

“It is coming back then?” She nods. “Good. Good.” You pat her cheek. “Now, as for your question. I suppose you have had no cause to hear it, but when I was younger, they whispered it every year. The Winter King must have a bride, so the Autumn Queen allows him to come during her reign and choose a bride. ‘Snow in Autumn. The Winter King comes calling’. Do you understand?” She pouts as questions crease her brow, but she nods, her only recourse until her voice returns. You continue your story, knowing it will answer some of the questions.

Your father paused from his shoveling to wave to your neighbors. They returned the wave but scuttled away. Your mother decided to stay home. Your errands were not so pressing that you must go to town that day. You nodded and smiled because it loosened her fists.

She and your father returned to their bedroom. Their argument continued. Your fingers were too numb to hold a needle, and it was too early to start dinner. Instead, you went out the back of the house. A smooth white blanket of snow stretched from the house to the woods beyond the fence. You wanted to walk into the woods and lose yourself like you had as a child, but as a young woman, disturbing the beauty of the snow felt a crime.

A whisper in your mind encouraged you forward. You took a step, and your foot stood firm as it does now. You stepped again and stood atop the snow. With a chuckle, you raced to the wood. When you reached the fence edge and glanced back, you found no trace of your passing. You shivered, only then remembering that you had forgotten your cloak.

The chill passed as you entered the woods. The branches had shed their leaves, but wore no coats of white in their place. They creaked in the wind like old men roused from their slumbering and waved to you. As you waved back, you heard it: a whisper, the sound of a memory. You no longer stood in your woods with the saplings which had grown along with you. These woods were ages older than you, but familiar. Your grandparents wood. The whisper came again. You rushed forward and dashed around an oak wider than a sledge.

A path opened up before you, flanked by rows of trees. At the end of the path, staring back at you, was Kyungsoo. Older now, but you knew him instantly. You called to him, but before his name could pass your lips, you were back in your wood.

You returned home, startled by the vision and anxious for your parents. Your absence would frighten them. Though, they should have been preparing themselves. One day more before he came, and no amount of arguing could keep him away.

Sitting at dinner, you tried to start conversations. You told the stories which always brought smiles and laughter, but that night they brought sighs and sorrow.

“Darling,” your father said, his voice rough. You wanted to turn the conversation, but you had run out of stories. “Your mother and I have decided we shall take an early holiday. We will all go visit my parents.” Your father’s parents lived beyond the sea, deep in the southern lands. Your father attempted a smile and managed a crooked stitched together thing which belonged on a scarecrow not a man.

You shook your head. There is no escaping the Winter King. “He will find me, even there.”

Your mother sobbed. You reached across the table to pat her hands, but she flinched at the ice in your fingertips and sobbed even harder. “Why must it be you?”

You wondered that too. Each year the Winter King chose a bride. No one knew how he chose for no two brides were the same. Their stations differed, their appearances differed, their manners differed. The only thing the brides had in common was that none lived to see another winter.

A tug on your sleeve pulls you back to the present. The sledge is slowing, the wind dying around you, so when you lean down, you hear the whispered, “How?” The little girl points to you, and you squish your nose as you smirk.

“I’ll get to that part I promise, but before that, we have arrived.” You watch her face as she sees your home. Many years have passed since you first arrived, and they have stripped the wonder from your eyes.

Ice is cold, hard, and often brutal, but it is also beautiful and delicate. Thick walls of ice stand between nine tall towers which rise into thin spires. Ice fountains twist and curve around the spires like lovers in a dance. When you arrived only six of the nine towers had the spiraling fountains about their spires. The ice captures the noon day sun and reflects it onto the plain of snow, revealing the images carved into the walls and towers. Roads of ice filled with Sledges. Homes frosted with snow, their hearth fires glowing. Rivers frozen solid enough for the skaters to flit across. And finally, Woods their branches covered with snow instead of leaves.

The sledge pulls up to this tower, and the ice melts away forming an arch large enough for the sledge to pull through. Creatures of wind and snow come forward to release the creatures who have pulled you home. They offer a hand to you and the girl, but she buries herself deep in your cloak, clutching it around her.

“They mean you no harm, little one.” You pet her hair. “No one within these walls will harm you, but if they unsettle you so, I will send them away.” With a wave of your hand, they disperse as if they never were. She watches where they were before turning her gaze on you. “My husband’s brother gives them form for me because bodiless creatures disconcert me. They are still here though doing their work. Now, shall we find you some new clothes and food? And perhaps when we are done, my husband will have returned.”

She crawls out of your cloak, and you help her from the sledge. With her hand in hers, you walk with her through the Ice Palace’s never-ending hallways. Her head swivels back and forth as she marks the doors and branching hallways. You had done the same when you first arrived though it did little good. It is impossible to remember one’s way through the palace. One must simply know it. As you continue on your way, you take up your story once more.

That last night in your parent’s home, you laid awake. Sleep neither came for you nor did you seek it. You stared beyond the roof’s eaves into the past. You packed your memories for the coming journey, starting with your earliest. A cold winter’s night. A fire roared in the hearth, and you sat in your mother’s lap as she told you tales of snow maidens.

Dawn crept across the roof before you had made it through half your memories. There was nothing to stop the coming day, though. With a sigh, you climbed out of your bed and walked to your wardrobe. Your best dress hung on the door where you left it. It was plain for a wedding gown, but three days was hardly enough time to construct a proper gown.

You dressed in the early morning light, and when you finished, you stood a distance from the palm-sized mirror your father bought you two winters past. It failed to catch your full image, but the portion it captured gave little evidence as to why you have been chosen as a bride of one of the Four Seasons.

Stepping out into the growing day, you found a world blanketed in white. The snow would rest on the whole town. As you walked, you glided across the snow’s surface though you knew it could not be cold enough for the snow to crust. Closer to town, you found cleared paths, the work of early travelers. You walked through them to the town’s center where the pavilion sat.

Each spring the town gathered at the pavilion to watch the marriages of friends and family. As one, they rejoiced and celebrated together. The pavilion was quiet in the early morning hour though you doubted your marriage would bring much rejoicing and celebrating. Still, you climbed the steps and waited in its center for your groom.

The sky brightened, the morning dawn fading into pale blue as you waited. The townspeople woke and began their mornings. All knew what the day would bring, but few of them stopped by the pavilion. Those that did glanced your way with pity and shook their heads before going on their way.

Noon arrived with a thunder. The bell in the town hall rang, but the sound carried beyond the tower, reverberating through your bones and stilling all those within earshot. When you glanced towards the road, you saw your parents. They were still in their bed clothes. The false winter morning had lulled them into a deep sleep. You wished they had remained asleep and felt guilty at the thought. They deserved a goodbye, but you knew they would fight to keep you. They could not fight winter though. The snow would come without ceasing if the Winter King had no bride.

A wind stirred as you watched them, circling the pavilion and picking at the snow. As the flakes rose, they swirled about you, creating a wall of white. A chill bit your fingertips and toes, and when you glanced at them, you found ice creeping up your body. You closed your eyes and breathed deep as panic threatened to overwhelm you.

The ice eased over your face, and you stared out at the wall of white, a statue of ice. The cold reached into you stilling all thought and sense. The wall of white stretched a tendril towards you, and your body of ice responded, grasping the tendril as one might a hand. The wall pulled you into its maelstrom. The world whirled around, everything familiar so distant.

A wind rushed through the wall, scattering you and pulling you along. You rose with the wind and raced across the countryside. If you had a voice, you would have laughed; instead, the wind whistled a happy tune as it slipped between the trees of the woods.

The sun lowered its head beneath the horizon as the wind settled. It swirled around a stone of solid white and released you from its hold. The ice of your fingers and toes came together and the rest of you found its place. When the statue was whole once more, the ice melted and the wind died. You stood flesh and bone and sinew once more. Before you waited a sledge, not the one on which you rode this morning. This one was made of wood and pulled by two silver reindeer. Beyond the sledge stood the Ice Palace.

“Greetings.” A soft voice had greeted you from a pile of blankets in the sledge. You opened your mouth to return the greeting, but the world went black before you could.

“I still faint whenever I travel on the winter wind which is why I have yet to decide to learn how.” You say as you reach your rooms.

The doors swing open to reveal a room of wood and carpet. When they close, you could believe you stood in a house which your father had made for you and your husband only a short walk from theirs. A fire dances in the hearth, bathing the room in orange light. The girl goes to stand by it and holds her hands to the flames. When she looks back at you with furrowed brows, you laugh.

“Do you really think there would be fire in an Ice Palace? As my husband’s brother gives form to the wind for my benefit, my husband gives me fake fire. One day, I will no longer feel the need for it, but I am still young.”

“And foolish.”

“Yukina,” you greet the woman who enters your room. “This little one is the voice I heard from the sledge. She is the wife of the High Winter King.”

The girl’s gaze follows Yukina as she comes to stand before her. The older woman studies the child before shaking her head. “You should have left her in the woods.”

“And how many children do you have that you can say that to me?” You snap back.

The looks she levels at you could freeze a living soul, but you have lived in the Ice Palace long enough to keep your courage. She speaks, and her words bite into your skin. “And how many children have I lost? Not all children wish to be ice.”

Your lips tighten at the reproach. The girl watches you, her face wary, and you relax. “You are frightening the child, Yukina. My husband and I will decide what is best when he returns.”

Yukina nods and, with a sigh, lowers herself before the girl. “I am sorry little one. I should have kept my peace in your presence. We understand what it is like to be thrust into this world without a choice.” You stiffen, and despite knowing this, she continues. “But you will have a choice. The King of the Winter Woods is fair and just. He will speak with his wife and with you.” She stands and faces you. “I long for the winter when you cease to cause chaos and simply help your husband.” With that, she leaves.

“Come.” You say to the girl when she continues to stand beside the hearth. “I have promised you clothes and food.”

The clothes wait for you on your bed as you knew they would. A thick wool dress and strong leather boots lined with fur. They are all in shades of green and brown except for the boots which are black. She is a new creature in her clothes and fit to be a princess of the Winter Kingdom. You settle her by the fire with a bowl of food and finish your tale.

When you woke, it was in this room. Yukina was there. “Welcome.” She greeted again. “The King of the Winter Woods has chosen you for his bride, and I must make you ready for the ceremony.” The words made sense, but still you were confused. You knew the Winter King and that you must wed him, but you had never heard him called the King of the Winter Woods.

“Who are you?” You asked as you pushed against the thick warm blankets and sat up. The bed was softer than yours and larger. Your mother and father could have slept beside you without touching. At each corner stood young saplings, their branches reaching up to form a canopy above your head.

“I am Yukina, Queen of the Winter Winds.” She answered as she pulled the blankets off your legs. A chill swept up your body, and you shivered. “Come. You must get dressed.”

“If there is already a Winter Queen, then why am I here?” You tugged at the blankets, trying to regain their warmth, but Yukina pulled them further out of reach.

“There are six Winter Queens. You will be the seventh. One day there will be nine as there are nine Winter Kings.” She brought forth a gown which would make the finest lace makers weep, but no string was woven into this gown. Snowflakes had been plucked from the sky and stitched together.

You stared at the snowflakes, tracing their shapes and said with all ignorance imaginable. “But there is only one Winter King. He chooses a bride in Autumn, and by Winter’s end she is gone, so the next Autumn he chooses again.”

“When people know nothing, they will make their own truth.” Yukina placed a hand on yours. “I am alive as you will be at Winter’s end. Come. You must get dressed.” She pulled you off the bed and helped you from your simple dress.

The bridal gown was light as air and sat upon your frame as though tailored for you. No shoes adorned your feet. They glided freely beneath you as you walked to the mirror. The girl from that morning was gone, and the one who replaced her felt foreign. You ran a hand through your hair. Yukina had left it to hang freely. You watched in the mirror as she came up behind you and, atop your head, placed a crown, carved in the shape of pine and spruce and other trees whose names you would learn.

From your room, you walked round and round the palace until you stood at its center, a nine-pointed snowflake. Each point had an archway and above the archway was a symbol. If you had looked above the one you walked through, you would have seen the Winter Wood, but the man at the snowflakes center held all of your attention.

Even here, Kyungsoo swore no coat, and the wind tousled his dark mop of hair. He stood as still as a tree in trousers and tunic, the grey of snow at dusk. Yukina walked with you towards him and placed your hand in his before fading away.

“I saw you in the woods yesterday.” You said because you had to say something. Nothing quite made sense, but Kyungsoo was here which felt right.

He smiled, and his lips formed a heart. “I knew you were in the woods, and I should have gone, but I wanted to see you and know if you were scared. Are you scared?”

“No.” And it was the truth. You were uncertain and curious, but not scared. “We’re going to be married.”

“We are married.” You blinked and stepped back but left your hand in his. “If you do not wish it so, you can leave as you came. I will return you to your parents, and everything will become a dream.” He squeezed your hand and began to release it.

You tightened your hold upon his. “And if I wish it?”

“Then you will rule beside me as Queen of the Winter Woods and be my wife.”

“I agreed too readily.” You tell the girl as you pour her a cup of tea. “I love my husband and am happy to be wed to him, but I agreed because of childish fancy. I believed that I would love him because I had loved him as a child. But he was no longer that little boy, and I was no longer that little girl. This is my warning to you little one be open to love but not blinded by the idea of it. People convince themselves of many things because they think they are in love.” She nods along as she sips her tea. You sip yours as well. “And now would you like to meet my husband?”

The door opens, and Kyungsoo strides in. He glances at the girl then you. He will have already heard about her. There are no secrets in a palace of ice.

“Little one, does my husband frighten you?” She shakes her head. “Then will you go with him? He must speak with you without me. This way you can be honest with him.”

“Anytime you wish to return, we will.” He speaks, his deep voice a wave of warmth.

She gives you her tea cup and stands. The little princess walks to him and takes his hand. They are gone, and you are left to wait with your tea.

Kyungsoo walks beside the girl, his hands clasped in front of him. The walls thin as they walk until they are gone, and the two walk through a wood of white. “Do you understand what happened to you?”

She nods then shakes her head and sighs. A fresh snow falls, clinging to her hair and dusting her dress. She watches him. The snow drifts about him but never settles on him. Her bottom lip begins to tremble, and Kyungsoo kneels down before her and balances her too small hands in his palms. She meets his eyes, and he breaths out a sharp exhale which clouds in the chill air and wraps around her. She breathes in, and her eyes go round. “My voice.” She croaks.

“Please forgive my wife. She is new to her power still.”

“She is good to me.” Her face shines with the delight of her voice.

Kyungsoo’s lips curve up, but he sighs. “She has a kind heart and is eager to help those in need, but she helps without asking or a thought to the consequence.”

The girl blinks. “I don’t understand.”

“You were dead this morning, and my wife gave life to you. Such is our power for those who Winter takes, but it is a gift given with care. My wife should have spoken with you first. This life is different. You are no longer human. You no longer belong in the human world. Everything you knew is gone. She should have explained this to you and received your permission before giving life to you.”

“But I was dead?” Her brow furrows.

“Such is our power for those who winter takes.” He repeats, his smile sad. “I will explain what my wife did not. You are a snow maiden now. During winter you may roam the world, but when winter ends, you must stay in the palace. You have no magic of your own and will melt with the coming of Spring. If you melt, there is nothing Winter can do.” The trees whistle with the wind, and the snow dances around them. Her hands, resting against his palms, tremble. His fingers curl around hers to form a link. “You are free to stay here, but life here is not the same as the life you had.”

“Of course not.” Her voice wavers. “I know that. Back…” She pauses as tears leak down her cheeks. “Back when I was human, I was always hungry, and there was no food. I would beg and beg, and everyone would tell me to go away. So I went away. I went into the woods, and that’s- that’s when it happened.” She sobs, her whole body shaking. “It was so cold, and the snow was falling. I couldn’t walk any further so I laid down, and nothing hurt anymore, but I was so tired, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

Pulling her against him, Kyungsoo settles them both down amongst the roots of the trees. He brushes the snow from her hair and clothes and whispers a word. The snow begins to dance around her as it does him. He whispers another word, and the snow swirls together becoming a teapot and cups. Steam rises from the pot, and he pours her a cup. She sips, and her trembling subsides.

“I want to stay here. I didn’t have magic before, and I don’t need magic now. I won’t leave during Spring and melt. I will be good, and do everything you and your wife say.” The cup in her hands threatens to crack under the pressure of her grasp while her eyes wide with pleading remain fixed on him.

“Very well, you may stay. You shall live with us from now until the last Winter ends.” She nods, and he does as well. Lifting his head, he says, “You may come out now.”

Slipping between the trees, you join their tea party. The girl squeals and rushes to you, throwing her arms around you. She chatters away with a voice sweeter than a morning magpie. She is full of questions and excitement, and you set her in your lap as you work to answer them all. Soon though, she is asleep in your arms. The day has taken its toll on her. Kyungsoo cradles her in his arms as you walk back to your rooms.

“She may come to hate a life of ice.” He whispers.

“And she may love it.” You whisper back. “As I love it.” A hand upon his arm stops him, and he faces you. “I love you, and I am happy to be your Winter Queen. I will be a good Winter Queen, and a good mother to this child.” You promise before leaning into him and placing a kiss upon his lips.

#kwritersworldnet #kyungsoo #d.o.#exo #kyungsoo drabble #exo drabble #kyungsoo fanfiction #exo fanfiction #kyungsoo collection #hmw #g: fluff #tw: mentions of death

32 notes · View notes

laboratorioautoral · 4 years

Text

The original outline and why it is still relevant to ASOIF

Since the original outline for A Song of Ice and Fire was leaked there’s been a massive effort, both in fandom and mainstream media, to discredit everything that was revealed there as a potential clue for the future of the story.

Although I agree that some changes happened, I don’t subscribe to the idea that the outline is irrelevant at this point. This little essay is my attempt to analyze the outline and compare it with what has already happened and still could happen in the future books, how much was changed and more importantly, how it was changed. I won’t say this is an impartial analysis (because I don’t believe that such a thing exists) but an honest effort of textual interpretation.

Here we go:

“Dear Ralph,

Here are the first thirteen chapters (170 pages) of the high fantasy novel I promised you, which I'm calling 'A Game of Thrones.' When completed, this will be the first volume in what I see as an epic trilogy with the overall title, 'A Song of Ice and Fire.'”

First things first. A Song of Ice and Fire was first imagined as a trilogy and the fact that GRRM extended it to 7 books obviously has an impact in terms of structure. It seems quite reasonable to assume that a lot more would have to happen to fill the gap occupied by 4 additional books. That alone is a huge influencing factor, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that the essence of the story was changed as we can see in the following paragraphs.

“As you know, I don't outline my novels. I find that if I know exactly where a book is going, I lose all interest in writing it. I do, however, have some strong notions as to the overall structure of the story I'm telling, and the eventual fate of many of the principle characters in the drama. Roughly speaking, there are three major conflicts set in motion in the chapters enclosed. These will form the major plot threads of the trilogy, [unclear] each other in what should be a complex but exciting (I hope [unclear] tapestry. Each of the [unclear] presents a major threat [unclear] of my imaginary realm, the Seven Kingdoms, and to the live [unclear] principal characters.”

Here we have Martin admitting that he usually doesn’t outline his novels over fear that he will lose interest while writing it. However, he also clarifies that he has “some strong notions” for the story he is telling, especially in which concerns those he considers to be the main characters.

In some of interviews Martin already said that the ending he had planned many years ago is still in place and he has known the characters’ endings ever since. It’s safe to assume, I think, that the core of his plans hasn’t changed much. What might have changed is the path that leads the characters from one point to another.

“The first threat grows from the enmity between the great houses of Lannister and Stark as it plays out in a cycle of plot, counter-plot, ambition, murder, and revenge, with the iron throne of the Seven Kingdoms as the ultimate prize. This will form the backbone of the first volume of the trilogy, A Game of Thrones.”

Can anyone say that this didn’t happen? Of course not. This is the spark that lights the fire that will consume the Seven Kingdoms throughout the story, with major and minor consequences that will shape both the narrative and the characters’ development. The conflict between Starks and Lannisters is the first of three conflicts that represent the core of the story.

“While the lion of Lannister and the direwolf of Stark snarl and scrap, however, a second and greater threat takes shape across the narrow sea, where the Dothraki horselords mass their barbarian hordes for a great invasion of the Seven Kingdoms, led by the fierce and beautiful Daenerys Stormborn, the last of the Targaryen dragonlords. The Dothraki invasion will be the central story of my second volume, A Dance with Dragons.”

Here we have the second major conflict and with this one in particular I’ll have to take my time to elaborate some points. First of all, A Dance With Dragons became the 5th book of the series instead of the second. So far everything we saw about Daenerys was her preparing to take her place at the center of the stage.

Dany has her own arc which hasn’t integrated to the events in Westeros so far given to her geographic location. That doesn’t mean that Daenerys has no relevance to what’s happening in Westeros, but her existence wasn’t directly noticed by the seven kingdoms yet. Daenerys is preparing for her role in the main story: She is gathering a military force based on the Dothraki to invade Westeros.

We already know that Daenerys will have more than just the Dothraki on her side. The Unsullied were added to the plot and my guess is that they exist to humanize Daenerys and make us sympathize with her cause as she creates the great narrative of “Breaker of Chains”. This makes Daenerys sound heroic and noble, but I would like to point that Martin is very specific about one thing: The fierce and beautiful Daenerys Stormborn is first and foremost a threat. She is ready to invade Westeros and invasions are not peaceful.

At this point we already know two things worth being mentioned that are related both with Daenerys and the title of this book: The Dance of Dragons was a civil war involving two Targaryen claimants to the Iron Throne. On one side we had Rhaenyra, firstborn of the king and rightful heir if gender wasn’t an issue in Westerosi succession laws. On the other side we had Aegon, a son born from the king’s second marriage. His claim was mostly based on gender norms that favor male heirs in detriment of primogeniture.

It isn’t much of a dance if we only have one dragon, is it? Yes, Daenerys is the first half of this equation, but there is another half that Martin hadn’t created yet (or didn’t mention) when he wrote the outline. There is a second Targaryen, or at least someone who claims to be one.

Aegon VI, or Young Griff, is actually the first one to arrive in Westeros with invasion in mind. Does it mean that Dany is less of a threat or that she was suddenly placed in a heroic position? Absolutely not. No one with three dragons is a harmless creature and Dany is even more dangerous now that she has a direct enemy in position to take away everything she fought for.

I know that there’s a lot of speculation on whether Aegon is a Blackfire or not, but honestly I think his true lineage will be irrelevant as long as he has at least a drop of Targaryen blood and the right looks. Legitimate or not, Aegon looks like a Targaryen, has the house’s ancestral sword and a story that is convincing enough. More than that, by posing as Prince Rhaegar’s legitimate son, Aegon makes his claim stronger than Daenerys’. On top of that, he would be the Targaryen male heir in opposition to a Targaryen woman, repeating at least a part of the scenery that led Westeros to the Dance of Dragons.

Aegon and Daenerys are bound to become enemies because of their own ambitions. I don’t see Dany accepting him as a suitor or even the rightful heir. She doesn’t need Aegon to take Westeros and a queen without a king is, historically speaking, more powerful.

Everything said about Aegon can also be applied to Jon once his true parentage is revealed. Jon and Daenerys are a threat to each other and only one will survive this.

“The greatest danger of all, however, comes from the north, from the icy wastes beyond the Wall, where half-forgotten demons out of legend, the inhuman others, raise cold legions of the undead and the neverborn and prepare to ride down on the winds of winter to extinguish everything that we would call "life." The only thing that stands between the Seven Kingdoms and an endless night is the Wall, and a handful of men in black called the Night's Watch. Their story will be [sic] heart of my third volume, The Winds of Winter. The final battle will also draw together characters and plot threads left from the first two books and resolve all in one huge climax.”

The third and greatest danger also remains just the same. The Others are still the core of the last book and the major battle. There isn’t much to elaborate on in this part except for the title of what was supposed to be the last book, The Winds of Winter.

I don’t think A Dream of Spring will be some sort of extended epilogue, but most of the action and conflict should take part during The Winds of Winter. At the very least the center of the whole debate will be both the North, with all the plots there, and what lies beyond the Wall.

“The thirteen chapters on hand should give you a notion as to my narrative strategy. All three books will feature a complex mosaic of inter-cutting points-of-view among various of my large and diverse cast of players. The cast will not always remain the same. Old characters will die, and new ones will be introduced. Some of the fatalities will include sympathetic viewpoint characters. I want the reader to feel that no one is ever completely safe, not even the characters who seem to be the heroes. The suspense always ratchets up a notch when you know that any character can die at any time.”

Needless to say anything about this. The books are well-known for these hallmarks. Now we are getting to the juicy part.

“Five central characters will make it through all three volumes, however, growing from children to adults and changing the world and themselves in the process. In a sense, my trilogy is almost a generational saga, telling the life stories of these five characters, three men and two women. The five key players are Tyrion Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen, and three of the children of Winterfell, Arya, Bran, and the bastard Jon Snow. All of them are introduced at some length in the chapters you have to hand.”

I would like to make a point here. The five characters will grow from children to adults, changing the world and themselves in the process.

Although I believe that Martin made a bit of a mess in which concerns the characters’ ages, I think we can understand that the characters will not only be forced to act like adults, but also will be perceived as such by those around them and given positions of power or leadership.

Specifically in which concerns the female characters, both Daenerys and Arya will be perceived as adult women by Westerosi society and this is important for several reasons, mainly in that being an adult noblewoman is a relevant component to form political alliances via marriage. In Arya’s case in particular, it reinforces the idea that she won’t be a nine year old girl forever. This impacts her relevance in the political game (something people usually overlook or ignore) and also makes it possible for Arya to have romantic interests.

“This is going to be (I hope) quite an epic. Epic in its scale, epic in its action, and epic in its length. I see all three volumes as big books, running about 700 to 800 manuscript pages, so things are just barely getting underway in the thirteen chapters I've sent you.”

Can anyone say it isn’t an epic? Sometimes I wish it wasn’t so intense so the books would come earlier, but here we are.

“I have quite a clear notion of how the story is going to unfold in the first volume, A Game of Thrones. Things will get a lot worse for the poor Starks before they get better, I'm afraid. Lord Eddard Stark and his wife Catelyn Tully are both doomed, and will perish at the hands of their enemies. Ned will discover what happened to his friend Jon Arryn, [unclear] can act on his knowledge [unclear] will have an unfortunate accident, and the throne will [unclear] to [unclear] and brutal [unclear] Joffrey [unclear] still a minor. Joffrey will not be sympathetic and Ned [what appears to say] will be accused of treason, but before he is taken he will help his wife and his daughter Arya escape back to Winterfell.”

Here we have proof that Ned and Catelyn were doomed from the start. Basically everything in this paragraph happened, even the part in which Ned helps Arya to escape by giving her position to Yoren. The only problem is that Arya never reached Winterfell and her mother had left the capital before Ned was arrested. Also the part that says that “things will get much worse for the poor Starks before they get better” makes me think that it’s quite clear that the Starks (or some of them) are the main protagonists of this story.

Why am I saying the Starks (or some of them) are the main heroes? Because being a charismatic character, created with the intention of getting the readers’ sympathy, isn’t necessarily what makes this character a protagonist. You can like whoever you want in the story, this doesn’t make a secondary character a main character, nor does it make a likable character the ‘hero’. The structure of the story and who are the main players is already given.

“Each of the contending families will learn it has a member of dubious loyalty in its midst. Sansa Stark, wed to Joffrey Baratheon, will bear him a son, the heir to the throne, and when the crunch comes she will choose her husband and child over her parents and siblings, a choice she will later bitterly rue. Tyrion Lannister, meanwhile, will befriend both Sansa and her sister Arya, while growing more and more disenchanted with his own family.”

Tyrion and Sansa were set to be the ones with dubious loyalties to their families. This also happened with slight differences. Tyrion befriends Jon and is somewhat sympathetic to Sansa and Bran. Sansa didn’t marry Joffrey, but she did choose him over her own family the moment she went to Cersei to tell her Ned’s plans to get Sansa and Arya out of the capital. This might or might not indicate that she will have the chance to repent and atone for this, but her dubious loyalty is consolidated. Also Sansa has no children so far.

“Young Bran will come out of his coma, after a strange prophetic dream, only to discover that he will never walk again. He will turn to magic, at first in the hope of restoring his legs, but later for its own sake. When his father Eddard Stark is executed, Bran will see the shape of doom descending on all of them, but nothing he can say will stop his brother Robb from calling the banners in rebellion. All the north will be inflamed by war. Robb will win several splendid victories, and maim Joffrey Baratheon on the battlefield, but in the end he will not be able to stand against Jaime and Tyrion Lannister and their allies. Robb Stark will die in battle, and Tyrion Lannister will besiege and burn Winterfell.”

Bran’s arc is pretty much the same. We saw all of these things happen to him. The biggest change is in Robb’s part and even so most of it remains untouched. Robb did win splendid victories and in the books he even strategically beats both Jaime and Tyrion. What changed is that Robb and Joffrey never fought each other personally. Also Robb’s death was not on the battlefield but during the Red Wedding and Tyrion wasn't the one to sack Winterfell and burn it.

Tyrion’s first act of explicit villainy in the outline was transferred to Houses Bolton and Frey with participation of Theon Greyjoy. Still it was all part of the Lannisters’ plot and it was executed by their allies.

“Jon Snow, the bastard, will remain in the far north. He will mature into a ranger of great daring, and ultimately will succeed his uncle as the commander of the Night's Watch. When Winterfell burns, Catelyn Stark will be forced to flee north with her son Bran and her daughter Arya. Wounded by Lannister riders, they will seek refuge at the Wall, but the men of the Night's Watch give up their families when they take the black, and Jon and Benjen will not be able to help, to Jon's anguish. It will lead to a bitter estrangement between Jon and Bran. Arya will be more forgiving ... until she realizes, with terror, that she has fallen in love with Jon, who is not only her half-brother but a man of the Night's Watch, sworn to celibacy. Their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until the secret of Jon's true parentage is finally revealed in the last book.”

Here we have some changes. What doesn’t change is that Jon becomes a member of the Night’s Watch and ultimately ascends to the position of Lord Commander. Benjen is a famous member of the Night’s Watch and I believe he was the first choice to take the position of Lord Commander after Mormont, but Ben’s disappearance accelerated Jon’s ascension.

Catelyn and Arya never fled Winterfell, since their paths had already taken them somewhere else, but Bran did and his first impulse is to go to the Wall. Given the fact that the three eyed raven calls him, Bran’s magical journey leads him to go beyond the Wall before he can be reunited with Jon.

Arya and Cat had completely different journeys, or at least partially. Cat seeks her eldest son and stays by Robb’s side during his campaign. Arya, on the other hand, is stranded all over the Riverlands trying to find her way to either Winterfell or the Wall, although she explicitly says that she prefers to go to Wall, where she can find Jon. There was a clear intention to send both Bran and Arya to the Wall, but as the story progressed this decision might have been abandoned temporarily.

Thanks to his vows, Jon can’t take part in the realm’s politics. When news of Ned’s fate arrive at the Wall, Jon is devastated by the impossibility to help his family and fight side by side with Robb. Jon’s moral boundaries and his code of honor become a huge issue for him in the books, and they are tested the most whenever his family is involved. This seems to be his main dilemma in the outline as well.

Jon’s relationship with his family is also ambiguous in some aspects, especially when it’s revealed that his greatest dream since he was young was to be the Lord of Winterfell. This implies a level of rivalry and envy of his true born siblings. Jon repressed these feelings as much as he could out of love for the Starks.

Now I’ll make some guesses here, I don’t think it’s impossible for Bran and Jon to have some bitter estrangement between them, but it won’t be because of the Night’s Watch: If Jon is released from his vows once he is resurrected and takes back Winterfell along with the titles, it will undoubtedly lead to a succession crisis involving not only rights of conquest but also Robb’s will. Bran’s rights are directly affected in this scenario and, unlike the show, Bran never once questioned his position as Robb’s heir. It’s not impossible to imagine that factions will gather behind both claimants and this can cause another crisis in the North and bitterness between brothers in a moment when union is crucial.

Arya has a close relationship with both Bran and Jon and she is someone both of them feel inclined to listen to. I think Arya will be the bridge between them and the one to diplomatically avoid a rupture in the North, but it doesn’t mean the bitterness between Bran and Jon will disappear.

Now we reach the hugest taboo of the outline and the main reason why people claim “it’s no longer relevant” or that “Martin changed his mind”. Jon and Arya falling in love.

Let’s get one thing very clear, Jon and Arya already love each other in the books. This is not my opinion, this is the literal text.

Jon’s best friend was Robb and still Jon affirms that he missed Arya the most. Just go back to the books and count how many times and how affectionately they think of each other. They repeatedly say how they miss finishing each other’s sentences and how Jon loves to mess Arya’s hair. “The memory of her laughter kept him warm during the long journey north.” and “Needle was Jon Snow’s smile” are two small quotes that speak volumes of how deep this love is.

Am I saying this is a romantic sort of love? No. I’m not saying this. What I’m doing is highlighting the fact that this particular relationship stands out as one of the strongest (if not the strongest) bond in the books to the point where it’s not even questionable that Jon and Arya love each other the most. It’s strong enough to make Jon forsake his vows and decide to march to Winterfell to rescue a girl he thinks to be Arya. It’s strong enough to make Arya lie to Ned because she would never betray Jon.

Jon didn’t break his vows for any other sibling, no matter how much he wanted to, but he did it to save whom he thought was Arya. His love for her is the cause of Jon’s death in the books. He committed treason the moment he received the pink letter and decided to march against Ramsay Bolton. Jon’s last thought is “stick’em with the pointy end”.

I think it’s safe to assume that Jon will be resurrected and Melissandre is probably the one to perform the ritual. We already know that resurrections have some side effects in the asoiaf universe, the most evident one being some sort of obsessive thought that keeps guiding the resurrected’s actions (like Beric Dondarrion’s obsession with keeping the king’s peace, and Lady Stoneheart killing Freys to avenge Robb’s death). Jon’s last thought was directly related to Arya and there’s no other possible interpretation. His last thought is likely to become his obsession.

I also think it’s safe to say that Jon’s memory will stay inside Ghost at least for a while and we will have to wait and see the effects that will have on Jon’s personality once he comes back to life.

Varamir said that Ghost would be a second life fit for a king and I think this is a clear foreshadowing of Jon’s true identity. There are also some other aspects of wolf pack dynamics that deserve some consideration: Wolves are social animals that have hierarchy and well divided roles inside the pack and although Ghost is a lonely wolf that was separated from his original group, it would only take one female for him to start his own pack. Curiously Nymeria is an alpha female already, leading a pack of regular wolves, but she rejects her smaller cousins as potential mates. Ghost and Nymeria are the alpha male and female of a new pack. The wolves of Winterfell will come back; stronger and more dangerous.

I think all of these elements will play a significant role in how Jon and Arya’s love will change once they are reunited. It won’t be immediate, but as the story goes the sexual tension will become evident. Jon’s perception of Arya as a sister will be blurred as a teenage Arya starts to see him as a love interest. At this point Arya will already be perceived as an adult woman according to Westerosi society, as I pointed out before. My guess is that she will be close to Daenerys’ age when she married Drogo. I’m not judging if this is right or wrong by our own moral standards. What I’m saying is that it’s acceptable in the world created by GRRM.

As the outline says, their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until Jon’s true parentage is revealed. This necessarily implies that: 1) they are not siblings; 2) their passion brings a lot of moral issues and they are not comfortable with it; 3) their agony has an end when Jon’s parentage is revealed. Jon’s true parentage is a moral free pass for them and, at least from what we can read in the outline, this is more relevant than any potential succession rights.

This moral free pass wouldn’t be applied in a romantic relationship between Jon and Daenerys for example. It would actually have the opposite effect, giving Jon reason to question his moral choices and torment himself with doubts. This plot point is not applicable to Sansa either, mostly because Sansa and Jon don’t have a close relationship that’s already been established. They have a distant one and don’t even think much about each other. The whole point of Jon and Arya’s strong bond is to lay the foundations for a romance, establishing a relationship based on love, mutual loyalty and respect.

Do we have any indication that Jon and Arya’s romance was scrapped based on the books? No. Do we have any conclusive evidence in the text that Arya was replaced by any other female character? No. Why do I think Jon and Arya are endgame? Because we have only two books left and a lot of events that must be covered by them. It’s way easier to use an already established loving relationship with 5 books of consistent development and make it a romantic one (and make it believable as an epic romance because all the dramatic elements are already there), than to write a brand new one from scratch and make the reader believe that this is the ultimate love story.

“Abandoned by the Night's Watch, Catelyn and her children will find their only hope of safety lies even further north, beyond the Wall, where they fall into the hands of Mance Rayder, the King-beyond-the-Wall, and get a dreadful glimpse of the inhuman others as they attack the wilding encampment. Bran's magic, Arya's sword Needle, and the savagery of their direwolves will help them survive, but their mother Catelyn will die at the hands of the others.”

Catelyn was meant to be killed by the Others. It’s not hard to conclude that she would have become one of them. The major difference from the outline to the books is that Catelyn died elsewhere, however she was brought back to life by fire magic as Lady Stoneheart. I can also see Bran and Arya fighting against the Others with the help of their direwolves in the event of a great battle by the end of the books. There’s nothing indicating that this part was cut, it just hasn’t happened yet.

“Over across the narrow sea, Daenerys Targaryen will discover that her new husband, the Dothraki Khal Drogo, has little interest in invading the Seven Kingdoms, much to her brother's frustration. When Viserys presses his claims past the point of tact or wisdom, Khal Drogo will finally grow annoyed and kill him out of hand, eliminating the Targaryen pretender and leaving Daenerys as the last of her line. Danerys [sic] will bide her time, but she will not forget. When the moment is right, she will kill her husband to avenge her brother, and then flee with a trusted friend into the wilderness beyond Vaes Dothrak. There, hunted by [unclear] of her life, she stumbles on a [something about dragon eggs] a young dragon will give Daenerys [unclear] bend [unclear] to her will. Then she begins to plan for her invasion of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Daenerys’ arc here didn’t change much. What changed was her motivation to kill Drogo and how she gets the dragons. Everything else that happens to her since the second book is her preparing to invade Westeros.

“Tyrion Lannister will continue to travel, to plot, and to play the game of thrones, finally removing his nephew Joffrey in disgust at the boy king's brutality. Jaime Lannister will follow Joffrey on the throne of the Seven Kingdoms, by the simple expedient of killing everyone ahead of him in the line of succession and blaming his brother Tyrion for the murders. Exiled, Tyrion will change sides, making common cause with the surviving Starks to bring his brother down, and falling helplessly in love with Arya Stark while he's at it. His passion is, alas, unreciprocated, but no less intense for that, and it will lead to a deadly rivalry between Tyrion and Jon Snow.”

There’s only one character that was replaced, I think. The Jaime Lannister of the outline seems to have been replaced by Cersei in the books, and it makes much more sense. The Baratheons are briefly mentioned and we know Joffrey to be officially one. We know that Tyrion and Jaime are Lannisters and that Tyrion and Jaime are brothers. Unless Joffrey’s official father was a Lannister, Jaime would have no place in the line of succession to the throne whatsoever and this is important even when you want to use the rights of conquest. Cersei could have one, by becoming her son’s heiress in case there’s no one else left.

Also, although Sansa didn’t marry Joffrey, her wedding to Tyrion still makes her a Lannister and ties her to the enemy. Her loyalty was put to the test because of Joffrey, but her ties to the Lannisters were consolidated with Tyrion. Her arc is still in place. Her marriage wasn’t declared null so far and I don’t think it will happen anytime soon. As far as public knowledge goes, Sansa is Lady Lannister.

As for the love triangle Jon Snow x Tyrion x Arya, I don’t think it’s impossible at all. While it’s true that so far Tyrion hasn't interacted with Arya and I doubt he even remembers her face from the short time he stayed at Winterfell, the Arya he will eventually meet will be an educated young woman that had many intriguing experiences in Braavos, is very charismatic and makes friends with everyone and anyone. Tyrion, being a man profoundly affected by his physical condition would gravitate towards her. I don’t think it’s hard to imagine him falling for someone capable of seeing him as an individual as Arya is.

There’s also an argument to be made that this love triangle might have been replaced by Ramsay x Arya x Jon in some ways. After all Tyrion didn’t burn Winterfell, Ramsay did. He also married a fake Arya (Jeyne Poole) to claim Winterfell in her name, leading to a violent rivalry between Ramsay and Jon.

This plot point might have just been either altered to replace Tyrion with Ramsay, or it hasn’t happened yet.

“[The next graph is blocked out.]

But that's the second book ...

I hope you will find some editors who are as excited about all of this as I am. Feel free to share this letter with anyone who wants to know how the story will go.

All best,

George R.R. Martin”

With everything said so far we can conclude a few things:

1) The three major conflicts remain the same.

2) Ned, Cat, Robb, Viserys and Drogo’s fate didn’t change.

3) Bran still went through a coma and can’t walk anymore. He also developed magical abilities. An eventual strained relationship with Jon is still possible.

4) Tyrion and Sansa’s dubious loyalties to their families weren't removed from the books and Sansa still got tied to the enemy via marriage, although to a different character.

5) Tyrion continues to travel, to plot, and to play the game of thrones. He didn’t kill Joffrey, but was blamed for it anyway. Eventually he will make alliances with enemies of his house.

6) Jon joined the Night’s Watch and became Lord Commander. His vows are constantly challenged, especially when his family is endangered. His incapacity to help them keeps torturing him and in the books it leads to his death.

7) Jon and Arya share a strong bond, based on love, mutual trust and loyalty, and respect. This relationship remains one of the most important ones in the books. This relationship was consistently developed throughout the 5 books already published and turning it into a romantic one is still possible.

8) Jon’s true parentage is super relevant.

9) Daenerys’ arc didn’t change.

10) The love triangle Jon x Arya x Tyrion was either replaced by Jon x FArya x Ramsay, or could still happen in its original form once Tyrion and Arya have the chance to interact with each other.

This was my lengthy analysis of the original outline and why I think it’s still valid. I hope you enjoyed it.

#ASoIaF #origial outline #waterstone letter #a song of ice and fire #jon and arya #jon x arya #jon/arya #jonrya #jonarya #meta

176 notes · View notes

punchdrunkdoc · 4 years

Text

Updated K-drama list (3)

4 more shows DONE and there’s been some changes to the rankings...

FAVOURITES

1. Crash Landing on You

He’s from North Korea. She’s from South Korea. They never should have met, but they’ll change each other’s lives.

This was my first K-drama, and its still my favourite. The full cast of characters is great, the lead romance is ANGSTALICIOUS and its genuinely, laugh out loud funny (when its not making you cry or swoon).

Male lead: Officially the best boyfriend ever. With added dimples.

Tear-jerk factor: 4/5

2. Healer

The lives, and pasts, of a hot shot reporter, a spunky young tabloid journalist and a mysterious thief-for-hire intersect.

This was so addictive - the plot was tight and engaging, and this is one of the few shows I’ve watched where there didn’t seem to be a lot of filler. I loved the central 3 characters, and the romance was amazing. I especially loved that the male lead started off such a brooding loner, but he became super-affectionate as soon as he admitted his feelings. So many good hugs and lots of face-cradling in this one.

Male lead: Effortlessly beats up 2 henchmen while comforting his girl over the phone. What more do you need?

Tear-jerk factor: 1/5

3. Itaewon Class

A young man’s life is forever altered when he runs afoul of a powerful family.

This felt like a big step up in quality from everything else in this list, in terms of the production, soundtrack (which was brilliant), the lack of annoying sound effects, and just the overall ‘real world’ feel of the show. All of the characters were fleshed out and 3-dimensional, and they all had their ‘moment’ to shine. The story itself was gripping and so well done - some of the twists and reveals had me gasping! And what can I say about the 2 leads? I love them, both separately, and together. He is so wise beyond his years, and his journey will break your heart and inspire you. She is borderline sociopathic, but I adore her.

Male lead: Tenacious, principled, kind, innocent, caring, driven, loyal…and he can cook!

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

4. Descendants of the Sun

A special forces Captain meets a capable and beautiful trauma surgeon. They feel an instant bond, but their jobs and philosophy on life get in the way, threatening to tear them apart.

Halfway through this show, I seriously thought this might overtake CLOY as my No. 1 fav. I absolutely LOVE the male lead character, and the romance was beautiful…but it didn’t quite nail the angst and the last minute was a bit twee which dropped it down the rankings a bit.

Male lead: A cocky, charming, absolute BADASS with the most adorable, cheeky smile.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

5. My Holo Love

A lonely woman falls for a holographic AI and then meets his creator...

I love the concept of this show (I’m a big sci-fi nerd), and it was beautifully shot. The lead relationship is well developed and it doesnt fall into a typical love triangle. I’ve come to realise it utilises a lot of K-drama tropes (face-blindness! shared childhood trauma!), but it does it really well, imho.

Male lead: Tortured loner genius. My catnip.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

6. Goblin

A 900yr old immortal guardian finally meets the ‘bride’ who will end his existence

Once I got over the slight ick-factor of the age difference between the two characters at the beginning, I really fell for this show and it’s world. It had me in tears. And I especially loved the secondary character of the Grim Reaper.

Male lead: Surprising innocent and funny for a 900 year old

Tear-Jerk factor: 5/5

7. What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim

An personal assistant decides to quits her job in order to get a life. Her boss has other ideas.

I loved the female lead in this - I’m a sucker for uber-competent people, and the actress is STUNNING. Her boss is self-centred, entitled and vain...but over time, somehow that just becomes endearing! This show also has lots of very good kissing scenes...and when he started to unbutton her shirt during one encounter, I was SCANDALISED (did I mention these shows are usually very PG!!)

Male lead: Like I said, somehow makes vanity and narcissism endearing. Also not afraid to get his shirt off and flash his 6-pack. Bonus.

Tear-Jerk factor: 0/5

8. Legend of the Blue Sea

A mermaid comes onto land to find the man she loves

The (literal) fish-out-of-water scenes in the first half of this show were hilarious - the actress is a comic genius! The romance was nicely done, and there wasn’t a lot of extraneous plot or too many characters. I couldn’t stop watching this one!

Male lead: Cocky, arrogant conman with a soft mushy centre

Tear-Jerk factor: 1/5

9. Fight for my Way

Two life-long friends decide to go after their dreams

I found this during my Park Seo Joon binge and, even though I fast-forwarded large chunks of it (I wasn’t interested in the secondary couple at all), it still made my favourite list because I love the leads - both as separate characters and as a couple. This is one of the best friends-to-lovers stories I’ve seen, mainly because you truly buy that these 2 have known each other their entire lives (their bickering and teasing feels so natural). And then when they take the next step, they’re so affectionate and refreshingly open with their feelings.

Male lead: I love his contradictions. He’s goofy and childish…but can really turn on the sexy charm; he’s a badass MMA fighter…who loves when his girlfriend sticks up for him and protects him.

Tear-jerk factor: 0.5/5

10. Suspicious Partner

A young, hardworking lawyer has her life turned upside down when she is put on trial for murder.

This has been officially bumped up to my favourites list - partly because I’m now a massive Ji Chang Wook fan, and partly because I’ve rewatched scenes with better subtitiles and it made everything10x better. Its still overly long, but the serial killer plot had some nice twists and it was central to the story, so it didn’t feel extraneous like some of these types of plots do. I really enjoyed the central romance - the 2 characters sparked off each other well and I loved their evolution from sort-of enemies to lovers.

Male lead: Its Ji Chang Wook! He’s so good at playing serious guys who are secretly big dorks

Tear-jerk factor: 0.5/5

Notable mentions

These are shows which I completed and enjoyed but they didn’t set my world on fire. Usually because they were overly long, or the plot got in the way of the characters/love story.

1. The K2

An ex-mercenary takes a job as a bodyguard protecting the illegitimate daughter of a politician. A sort-of Snow White retelling.

This started off really well, with some amazing fight sequences (hello, shower room scene!). However, the back half became too bogged down in double crosses and manipulations, and it focussed too much on the politicians. The writers did well to give these characters some layers, but they were all essentially doing bad things for the wrong reasons, and I just didn’t care about them. The show was much better when it was following K2’s journey. The romance also started off well, but was a bit underdeveloped (mainly because they barely interacted).

2. I Am Not a Robot

A man who is allergic to human contact finds companionship with a robot…or does he?

I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it passed a couple of episodes of this - the concept was just too ridiculous. But I’m glad I perservered, because it developed some real depth and some proper good angst towards the end.

3. My Love from the Star

Alien stranded on earth meets an actress soon before he’s due to be rescued.

I finally gave this another chance, and I’m glad I did. The female lead got a LOT less irritating, and I enjoyed the present-day romance and all the flashes back to the past. However, the ending was really abrupt and disappointing (which kept it out of my favourite list). There should have been 1 less filler episode in the middle, and a decent, fleshed out finale instead.

4. Her Private Life

A talented art curator tries to keep her professional persona separate from her fangirl obsession with a pop idol.

This was cute and I loved the central relationship - he was so supportive of her, and their interactions were refreshingly mature and their banter felt really natural. Ultimately, it was a bit forgettable (I’m not dying to rewatch any of it), and the last minute tacked-on childhood trauma subplot was really unnecessary.

5. Strong Girl Bong-Soon

A woman with inherited super-strength gets a job as a bodyguard for an eccentric young CEO

The lead couple in this are AD-OR-ABLE and I loved their relationship. But there was a weird tone issue in this show. The romance is super cute...but there’s a whole dark sub plot involving multiple women being held captive by a psychopath. I ended up fast forwarding most of that, and just concentrated on the romance.

6. Touch Your Heart

Star actress rocked by scandal works at a law firm to prepare for her comeback role

This starred the secondary couple from Goblin and I really like them, even though they are playing very different characters in this (more opposites attract, than doomed lovers). At first I found this too ‘cutesy’, but I’ve since realised the sound effects/graphics are a K-drama thing and not unique to this show, so I’m not as down on it as I was. I still had to fast forward a lot of the secondary romances which I wasn’t invested in.

The others…

1. Hyde, Jekyll and Me

A woman becomes involved in the lives of 2 men, who share one body

This stars Hyun Bin from CLOY and he is sooo watchable, especially as the slick-haired, glasses-wearing, uptight Seo-Jin. And the show started well...but quickly went off the rails into a convoluted, dragged-out revenge plot.

2. Melting Me Softly

Two people are accidentally cryogenically frozen for 20 years. They have to navigate the modern world and their new lives together.

Another good concept, but it ultimately descended into little more than a light work-place romance. Had a couple of good kissing scenes, but it was overall a bit forgettable.

And the DNF:

My Secret Romance

I started watching this because I was looking for something a little less PG - the characters have a one night stand in the first episode! But I couldn’t get passed the bad acting and cheap production.

Master’s Sun

I liked the premise but the 2 leads weren’t very attractive (at least in comparison to the insanely beautiful actors/actresses in the shows listed above). Call me superficial, but I couldn’t see myself spending 17 hours watching them and willing them to kiss.

#kdrama #cloy #healer #descendants of the sun #itaewon class #suspicious partner #legend of the blue sea #fight for my way #what's wrong with secretary kim #melting me softly #hyde jekyll me #touch your heart #her private life #strong girl bong soon #i am not a rob #my love from the star

188 notes · View notes

thejollyroger-writer · 4 years

Text

THE WASTELAND - Prologue

IT’S HEEEEEERE! For real, you guys, I canNOT express just how excited I am to share this story with you! What started as a prompt from @wellhellotragic in APRIL 2019 has grown into this, my story for @cssns 2020! Specialist of thanks to @shireness-says, who helps me talk out my ideas even though they make no sense to her, the ladies in the discord for sprinting with me in the hour I get to myself at the end of the day, and especially to @spartanguard for her INCREDIBLE artwork! I’m so excited to see what else she comes up with as more of the story gets posted!!

Now, onto the exciting part...

Some triggers: this story is rated TEEN, mostly for violence. It takes place during wartime, and some of the characters go through some violence and torture. If you need more information about this, please just message me!

SUMMARY: In a world that has been saturated in war for as long as anyone can remember, Emma Swan has rebuilt her life as far away from the chaos as possible, opening her own maternity hospital after spending too many years in makeshift battlefield aid stations. But one night, a bloodied and battered soldier finds her hospital trying to get away from an enemy with a penchant for torture and a personal vendetta against him. With the help of Emma’s childhood friend Prince David and a motley collection of humans and magic-wielders, the quest to save Killian Jones’ life from the poison used by the enemy takes them to places even beyond the known world.

Posted on AO3

“There has always been a war,” Prince David’s father always told him. In a way, he’s right. For as long as anyone can remember, as long as written history goes back, there has been the war, though what began as a magic versus non-magic fight has shifted into a power-hungry battle between two leaders — no matter who the leaders are.

Centuries passed, generation gave way to generation, but the war has remained. New technologies have come and gone: horses gave way to trains, only to be replaced by cars and tanks; weapons have come and gone.

But the War has remained. A few leaders have come along to try and stop the two sides from fighting, but none were strong enough to really stop the war, turning to the temptation of corruption before too long. Even the current King of the Gale, King George, started his rule as a kind and understanding ruler, but all it took to change that was the death of his wife, the King turning to dark magic in hopes of getting her back and only finding anger and corruption.

The only thing that has spanned the ages is the War.

The War, and the Wasteland. The two cities have grown, smaller hubs popping up where people have congregated, but the Wasteland remains, a large expanse of land that runs across the middle of the world where nothing will grow, where no people have congregated, barren of even animal life. And this has become the center for the War, home to makeshift barracks and trenches and destruction.

Prince David dreams of a day when the world is a better place, somewhere that he’s not terrified to raise an heir, somewhere where there is more to live for than corruption and violence. But that day hasn’t come, not yet.

-- -- -- --

According to some legends, there has never been a time when the Nephilim and the humans were not at war, but he’s too much of a cynic to believe that. Some part of him has to believe that there was a time, no matter how long ago, when the world was not drowning in war and hatred and destruction — because, if that’s true, then he can still believe that it’s possible for there to be a time after the war. That’s why he decided to fight for the Prince instead of the King; King George lives for war, for fighting, but his son, Prince David, helps men like Killian be sure that there is still good in the world, even when it seems impossible to find.

Though, recently, this good has become harder and harder for him to find, and though he chose to fight for the Prince, he certainly didn’t choose to be captured by the enemy, tortured in hopes of revealing the Prince’s location.

The rain pours down around him, pounding against his aching skin. It's cold, just shy of too cold, and Killian thinks that, maybe, if he could think straight, see straight, focus on anything beyond the sharp thrum of pain rolling through his body, it might even feel good.

But nothing can feel good here, when everything around him is so terrible. His world is broken, his home is broken, his soul is broken, his skin is broken. In multiple places. Scars run up and down his arms, his shoulders, his torso. Gunshots, knife wounds, weirdly-healing scars from magic-users and weres and fae blades — and maybe even a few self-inflicted from his lowest moments.

Not to mention his hand. The wound on his arm from the enemy Nephilim soldiers, the almost-unbelievably large were-shifter and the silent but sadistic fire-wielding sprite that helped torture him, was part of the worst pain he had ever felt. There was nothing he could do about the wound on his chest, the gash so close to his heart he feared they would pierce it, but the wound to his arm was another story. He’s seen a wound like that before, knows exactly the damage it would have across his body if the poison was left to spread, so he did the only thing he could think of to save himself, both from the poison and the chains that bound him and removed the rest of the limb with his own dagger.

He raises his eyes from the ground, needing to focus on something other than the throbbing pain blurring the edges of his vision, some sort of goal that he can dedicate what is left of his quickly depleting energy to. And that's when he sees it, so bright and clear in the darkness of the stormy night that he's sure he's imagining it. But he heads towards it anyway, the bright red cross of salvation like a beacon of hope in front of him.

By the grace of one of the higher powers — he honestly could care less about which one — no atheists in foxholes, one of his superiors used to tell them — the door to the building is open, though the lights are low, only enough to light up the single aisle that runs between the beds that line the walls. There are only a few bodies in the beds — humans and fae of all kinds — and they all seem to be asleep, a fact that his entry to the hospital does not seem to have any effect on. But none of this changes the fact that he has no idea where he is, and — more importantly — whether he has made it out of enemy territory, which changes around these parts quicker than the tides. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in a voice that sounds startlingly like his brother's, he wonders if there is still any such thing as safe territory anymore. He has enough common sense left to drag himself through the aisle between the rows of bed and through a set of double doors, and into what looks like an office off to his left, before finally crumbling on the floor, thankful for the warmth of his new shelter before he finally — finally, every bone in his body screams — succumbs to the pain and passes out.

TAGS: @kmomof4 @thisonesatellite @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @cocohook38 @ultraluckycatnd @facesiousbutton82 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @tiguanasummertree @angellifedeath @pepperpottss @mariakov81 @scientificapricot @teamhook @kday426 @xarandomdreamx @ohmightydevviepuu @xhookswenchx @nikkiemms @carpedzem @superchocovian @resident-of-storybrooke -- want to be added or removed? let me know!

#cssns #captain swan #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #cs ff #cs fics #fanfiction #magic

55 notes · View notes

raexxbb · 4 years

Text

Critic of Cartoons (SPOILERS!)

KyI figured I would begin doing on here what I do in my life. Rate a cartoon 10 out of 0 (-10 being highest/best and zero being the worst of the worst nonsense-) while telling my thoughts as to why. The third one is older and full of adventure with tales beyond what’s expected. Now on Netflix:

9 -Avatar: the Last Airbender

This may get a bit long ‘cause I want to bring each character justice. I love this show so much. I only deducted one point for the smallest of reasons otherwise it probably would have gotten a ten.

There’s a strong love-hate relationship with this show. All of the characters are incredible in there own unique way. My only issue is with the fact that the ‘hero gets the girl’ and does so by being whiny. It’s such a cliche and literally the only reason this show has a nine. The romantic element has a strong scale to hold but this show does a poor job of holding it up. Aang is fine, and I love Katara just not them romantically. Aang’s crush on her right away just rubbed me weird. I guess, it’s fine to crush on a pretty girl but to push the crush so much until she feels the same way... Katara had multiple boyfriends along the show and didn’t show much interest in Aang other then as a friend. So, them romantically together I never saw it being as Aang also pushes the chemistry. That’s it, my only issue is there in that relationship. Alone every character is very well thought out and placed in such a particular situation it makes them each perfect.

This forced kiss is the most disgusting moment in the entire show. He pushes this on her right after she says she’s confused and doesn’t know her feelings towards anyone. He’s just being childish (yes, I register he’s twelve) but if you want an adult relationship this is the wrong way to go about it. I don’t see why Katara would ever consider moving into a romantic relationship after this. Pushy is such a red-flag for me. Maybe I’m the only one that feels this way but it just outright infuriates me. Just look at how uncomfortable she looks during this moment.

Another thing I’d like to bring to light is the fact that Aang maybe a bit sexiest. I state this lightly ‘cause of the play episode in the third season. The thought came to be while reviewing Korra. Katara fights against sexism and to empower women. However, Aang became overly insulted when a woman was acting as him in the Ember Island play. Toph loved the idea of a guy playing her, but Aang just couldn’t get over his part being played by a female cast member. It is rude. Yes, everyone knows he still isn’t a girl but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t doing a decent job representing him. The fact that Katara still enters into a relationship just makes me feel like she’s going against something she stood so strongly for.

People may believe it’s because I favor Zuko and Katara but it isn’t that. Honestly, I’m no longer sure I like them as a couple anymore either. They have cute moments. There are just so many issues among all of the romantic relationships. Somehow, I found myself wishing it revolved more around friendship ‘cause the romance in this show wasn’t handled well at all.

The only reason I’d ever argue for Katara and Zuko to be a couple is because of the ending where he saves her life from Azula. I mean, yes, he put her in danger quite a few times but he was slowly redeeming himself throughout all of that. This wasn’t the only time he saved her and tried to give his life for hers. Throughout the third season of him trying to redeem himself, he tried the hardest with Katara because he had already betrayed her trust once.

Although, I’m still not saying they would’ve been the best couple either. Let’s not forget: they’re young -teenagers and children. If someone has found their soulmate already, good for them. It’s just abnormal and I’m trying to look at these relationships with a bit of a more realistic thought process.

There are a few times this show has been about friendship:

Toph was once worried about their friendships, however, one line from Roku gave her confidence and soothed her completely.

“Some friendships are so strong, they can even transcend lifetimes.” -Avatar Roku

Really love this quote from Roku~

Zuko’s redemption ark was beyond the best point in the show and had me balling the entire time, every time I’ve watched it gets my heart throbbing for this boy! What if his mother had taken him with her? His life would’ve been so different and probably a lot better! The scar would be gone. No father abuse for him! Of course, without him the Fire Nation would be even worse then it ever was.

“It was to teach you respect!” -Ozai

“It was cruel! And it was wrong!” -Zuko

“Then you’ve learned nothing!” -Ozai

“NO! I’ve learned everything! And, I’ve had to do it on my own.” -Zuko

That conversation with his father, where he finally stands up to such a horrible man was beyond astonishing. Especially seeing as it seemed like something Zuko would never do.

Although, Iroh new all along that Zuko is great.

“Then would you come and take your rightful place on the throne?” -Zuko

“No. Someone new much take the throne. An idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor. It has to be you, Prince Zuko.” -Iroh

Uncle has always believed in his nephew. That he would be the one to take the Fire Nation and bring balance to the world. They’re the best relationship in this show once Zuko stops being so angry.

Of course, there’s also the Mai of it all.

They’re occasionally good for each other. Their relationship is highly problematic. Mai is an awesome character alone, standing up to Azula when she’s terrified of her is great! However, Zuko and her argue nonstop and have an on-off dating history. It can be tiresome to watch. There just wasn’t any chemistry between them that I felt.

The only thing that I love about them is the prison scene. (Which could’ve been a friendship scene.)

Even when Zuko locks her away she chooses him. That is when I thought perhaps their relationship isn’t terrible. She still chooses him afterwards. Their behavior before is erratic and not that of a good relationship. Mai alone wouldn’t have been a trouble thing. Honestly, I relate to Mai as a gayer character then straight.

Although, that leads me to think about Azula, the girl of evil.

“My own mother, thought I was a monster...” -Azula

She’s only fourteen and she’s been raised by an abusive mad man. The entire background just makes me wish someone had tried to love her instead of shown her hatred. Her mother feared her, didn’t even say good-bye. Her brother had to fight her in order to save her from herself and father.

The thing that made her truly snap was her friends (only ‘cause they fear her) betray her. The last people she had on her side! She just needed love as Zuko did. It would probably take her years to recover from the madness just as it took Zuko. She needs love and help. Who was going to give it to her after the third season?

In the graphic novels, it’s revealed Zuko has her in a special insane asylum trying to give her the mental help she needs. But, she still seems tense and full of rage. It would’ve been nice to see further into that department of the Fire Nation.

These two are both extremely important. Their bond throughout the entire story is amazing. Him becoming his teacher was his true redemption, true honor came from that act. Of course, he learned so much from hunting Aang and trying to kill him as well.

Above all else, Uncle Iroh (-Zuko’s true father-) is definitely my favorite of all the characters. He’s just so warm and always does the right thing. He waited for Zuko when he went down the wrong path continuously knowing Zuko would realize his mistakes.

The White Lotus is one of the greatest things about this show.

“Don’t you know? All old people know each other?” -King Bumi

He’s just so hilarious and random. All of the great masters together in a secret society despite their nation’s differences is the most grandest thing.

Of course, another favorite is Appa.

The episode portraying animal abuse is heartwrenching. Him being taken from the ones that love and protect him only to be beaten and abused. This show goes beyond any other show in displaying all the different types of abuse in the world- emotional, physical... And it covers even more than this.

Another piece of me would’ve been interested in seeing if Aang had died and a water Avatar born to be the last Airbender. *Cough, cough* Maybe Katara? She is the most powerful bender in the show after all.

“I will never ever turn my back on people who need me!” -Katara

Perhaps instead of killing Aang off, just have them be wrong that he’s the Avatar and so whoever was actually got killed during the air temple raid. Causing the line to move on to water. Aang could’ve been trapped in an iceberg to be able to teach Katara air. Of course, that may not work if he weren’t able to waterbend and freeze a bubble around him. But, there’s definitely an air pocket in there.

It is one of the most beautiful cartoons ever created. Besides the fact I never really enjoyed Aang as the main character. All of the others are just so much more interesting then him, in my opinion.

Toph is one of the many characters I didn’t discuss. That fact just is that Toph is beyond incredible. She is the character that is ahead of her time. She proves that being disabled doesn’t mean she a person that’ll stop trying.That’s all, her blindness doesn’t work against her. Instead it works for her giving her a stronger way to see the world.

I’ll be doing Avatar: Legend of Korra at a later time. Trying to make sure I go back and re-watch everything to properly review it.

I really wish they would go back and create a show called Avatars about all of the past lives. Maybe 2/3 episodes to display each of them. There are hundreds and I’m curious to know more about them. I’d love to see Kyoshi as a badass teenager.

#NetFlix #Avatar: The Last Airbender #Critic of Cartoons #Zuko #Uncle Iroh is Zuko's true father #Katara #Sokka #Painted Lady #Appa #Animal Abuse #Uncle Iroh #Azula #Azula is a hurt baby that needs help #Mai alone #Shared Past #Avatar the Last Airbender should've been a friend show not a romantic one

63 notes · View notes

afni-fics · 3 years

Text

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 15: Not of This World (Part 2)

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 15: Not of This World (Part 2) by C_R_Scott Chapters: 15/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Modded Skyrim, Skyrim Spoilers, Tim Drake is Dragonborn | Dovahkiin, Batfamily-centric (DCU), Tim Drake-centric

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary:

More information is revealed between Tim and Lucien as they rest for the night after escaping Bleak Falls Barrow.

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

Tim had been feeling uneasy since he asked Lucien if he had a copy of a world map. While listening to the scholar's story and history, he became curious about this land called Cyrodiil. From what he could gather, it was somewhere beyond Skyrim, but the further Lucien went into his stories, the more frustrated he became.

Having no frame of reference for any of the locations was bothering him.

Knowing so little in general about this world he was trapped in made him feel extremely uneasy.

So... He asked, "Do you have a map of the world?"

The map Lucien spread out across that stone floor was a functional work of art. As Tim studied the map of Tamriel, a part of him was awed that someone had created such a beautiful detailed thing by hand with just pen and ink on parchment. He felt similarly about the parchment map of Skyrim he had sitting folded neatly in his own bag.

It was beautiful.

But it wasn't a map of any country on Earth.

A part of Tim had been harboring a small hope that perhaps he was dealing with some sort of Multiverse-shenanigans. Perhaps he was on an alternate Earth where sword and sorcery were king instead of science and technology? Or maybe there was time travel high jinks in play? This world was clearly set on some sort of medieval timeline. Magic and dragons loomed large in old legends in Europe, so perhaps there was a kernel of truth to the fairy tales?

But as Tim studied the map, trying to find any familiar shape among the coastlines, lakes, and mountain ranges, he felt his heart sink.

His face must have been reflecting the encroaching despair that had been chasing him ever since Helgen as Lucien's voice disturbed the silence. "Does nothing on that map look familiar to you?" Then, a bit later, Lucien asked "Then... Where on Nirn do you come from, if not from Tamriel?"

In that moment, Tim decided to take a chance. He looked at Lucien and asked, genuinely, "Nirn? Is that another continent, or is that the name of the entire world?"

As Lucien stared at him in disbelieve, jaw working to form a response but no words escaping him, Tim felt a wave of regret wash over him. He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. "Shit. Shouldn't have opened my big mouth. You probably think I'm crazy or stupid."

Finally Lucien found his voice. "No. Of course not!"

Tim gave him a deadpan, "don't try and bullshit me" stare.

Lucien sighed. "Well... Perhaps a touch of madness is on the table as a possibility, but certainly not stupidity! The expression of your intelligence in the Barrows was quite indisputable." The scholar took a measured breath and tee-peed his fingers in front of his face, tapping his lips with the apex of his joined fingertips. "Honestly, I was leaning more heavily towards some type of memory loss triggered by the trauma you experienced at Helgen." He looked at Tim over his fingertips.

Tim smiled wearily. "That might make a nice plausible cover-story later on, if anyone asks about my past," he mused.

"But that's not it..."

"No. That's not it." Tim looked over Lucien appraisingly, trying to mentally gauge how much he should and shouldn't tell the scholar. Then he got an idea. He pulled out his own journal as well as a quill and a bottle of ink. Then he set to work carefully sketching the basic forms of all the known continents of his Earth from memory. Once the shapes of the large land masses were set, he added more details, such as borders between major countries and the locations of major cities along with their names. Lucien watched him work with great curiosity.

Once he was done, Tim took a steadying breath before he offered Lucien the drawing. "This is a map of the continents of the place I come from," he admitted solemnly. Tim pointed to the dot on the North American continent he had labeled "Gotham City". "And this city is my home." He looked to Lucien. "In your studies, have you ever seen any land masses or maps that are similar to any of these places?"

Carefully, Lucien took the journal and held it a little closer to the light from the campfire. As he studied the rough drawing, his brow furrowed and absent-mindedly he stroked his mustache and goatee as his expression became more thoughtful and inward. After a few quiet moments, the scholar shook his head slight. "I'm sorry. I have studied a fair number of historic maps over the years, but I've never seen any that resemble the land masses displayed here." Lucien set the open journal down next to his own map of Tamriel, so he could look at both at the same time, arms crossed across his chest as he still let his eyes wander from one map to the other.

The silence between the two of them was agonizing to Tim. He could feel a coil of anxiety tightening in his chest, though he tried to keep it suppressed and his expression neutral. "What are you thinking Lucien?" He finally worked up the nerve to ask.

Lucien closed his eyes. "I... don't know yet," he admitted. "I don't have enough information." He finally looked up at Tim. "If you are comfortable with it, can I ask you a few questions?"

Tim nodded, even as he drew his cloak a little closer around himself, as if he was cold even despite the roaring fire in front of him, looking more guarded than forthcoming.

Lucien pulled out his own journal and flipped to a clean page. Then he began to voice a few questions, keeping them with a simple yes/no format.

"I'm going to give you a list of names. Let me know if any of them are familiar to you. Yes or no answers will suffice."

Tim nodded.

"Azura?"

"No."

"Boethia?"

"No."

"Clavicus Vile?" '

Tim tilted his head. "I know the word 'vile".

Lucien paused in his notes. "But as the name of a being?"

Tim shook his head.

"Hm... " Lucien murmured thoughtfully. He went down the rest of the list of Tamriel's known Daedric Princes.

Hermaeus Mora.

Hircine.

Malacath.

Mehrunes Dagon.

Mephala.

Meridia.

Molag Bal.

Namira.

Nocturnal.

Peryite.

Sanguine.

Sheogorath.

Varemina.

To each name, aside from recognizing "nocturnal" and "sanguine" as common words, but not necessarily proper nouns, Tim responded in the negative. He clearly had no knowledge of the Daedra Lords of Oblivion.

Lucien then moved on. He offered Tim another list of names. It was going to be shorter this time, just the list of the Eight Divines.

"Let's start off with Akatosh--"

"Akatosh..." Tim echoed as memory shards darted through his mind.

... an ancient temple? ... "A-ka-tosh?" ..."Dude?! You can read that?" ... "Detective?! What are you--" "DOVAHKIIN!!!"... ... "MEYZ NU YSMIR, DOVAHSEBROM!... ..."ROB!"... ... "TIM!!!" ... FALLING!!!..

"Timothy?! Timothy can you hear me?!"

Tim felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him... Until he realized he was the one trembling, and Lucien's hands were trying to hold him steady. Lucien's eyes were wide with concern.

"Lucien?"

The scholar breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. You went catatonic the moment I mentioned Akatosh. Are you alright?"

Tim buried his face in his hands. The shaking was settling, but not completely gone. "I... don't know," he admitted. "That name... it's familiar, but my memories." He groaned as he felt the spike of a migraine building behind his eyes the harder he tried to remember. "I can't sort them out. Like they've been ripped to pieces. Hurts..."

Lucien pressed a hand to Tim's forehead and noticed he seemed to be far warmer than normal. He frowned. "Here now. I think that's enough for tonight. You are still injured and you need to rest." He helped to lay out Tim's bedroll, despite the weak protests from the younger man. "We'll start off in the morning to Whiterun and as soon as we finish dropping off that Dragonstone with the Jarl's wizard, you're going straight to the temple for proper healing. I think your luck's run out regarding that burn not becoming infected."

Tim tried to protest, but he felt so physically, mentally, and emotionally wrung out. Gingerly, he laid himself down and drew his cloak around himself to stay warm. "Lucien?"

"Yes?" Lucien had taken a length of linen wrap from Tim's bag and soaked it with water from the rain still falling outside their shelter. He knelt beside Tim and placed the cool compress on his forehead.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

The scholar gave him a reassuring smile. "I think... I don't believe you're crazy, but I do think you have experienced something that neither of us can quite explain. Don't worry... Once we've completed your task and once you are healed, I will help you find your truth."

That seemed to reassure Tim enough that he finally relaxed to a point where he could let exhaustion drag him under into unconsciousness.

***

Once Lucien was assured that Timothy was fast asleep, he went back to the maps on the ground, and also to both their journals. After a quick glance to make sure his companion was still resting, Lucien picked up Tim's journal and flipped back to the start of the book and read over the few earlier entries that existed. His brow furrowed at some of the contents he read.

"January 23, 20XX... 24 hour days? Is he's on a different measure of time?"

"Gotham... That's name of his home city, but where is that from? His map of his world is so strange? Could it be a land from a plane of Oblivion? But which one, and how? Could it be there's an active Oblivion Gate somewhere in Skyrim? Terrifying thought...."

"Also... Is it possible he is from Nirn, but crossed paths with a Daedric Lord and just didn't realize it? Sheogorath's touch perhaps? But those who are touched by the mad god are usually completely manic or violently insane. Timothy, by comparison, seems quite in control of his mental faculties, if a bit confused at most."

"Medieval? What does that word mean?"

"Oy... no wonder he bristled at the mention of the Imperial Legion... Better be careful when we make our way back to Solitude. He might react poorly if we're approached by anyone that looks like a soldier."

"Clearly no understanding of potions or magic. Maybe they don't exist where he comes from? Hm... Seems the same way regarding Septims as well. Likely different monetary units in his homeland."

After reading the only four entries in the book, Lucien felt marginally guilty about reading Tim's private thoughts, but now he had a little bit more information about his travelling companion.

Too bad he ended up with more questions than answers.

"Who is this young man, and where is his homeland located?"

"How did he get to Skyrim, and for what reason was he brought?"

"Why did he react so unusually to the mention of Akatosh?"

"Is it possible a Divine or a Daedric Lord is involved somehow?"

"How can we get him home?"

Timothy Drake-Wayne was certainly an intriguing puzzle he really, really wanted to solve.

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

Warning: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Note1: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.

Note2: Dragon Tongue Translations: - DOVAHKIIN - Dragonborn - MEYZ NU YSMIR, DOVAHSEBROM - Come now Ysmir, Dragon of the North ***** So ends the evening of rest before making their way back to Whiterun.

#elder scrolls dc#fanfiction#tim drake#skyrim fanfiction#batfam fanfic#red robin#batfam#crossover#lucien flavius#wip#afewnovelideas

#elder scrolls dc #fanfiction #tim drake #skyrim fanfiction #batfam fanfic #red robin #batfam #crossover #lucien flavius #wip #afewnovelideas

5 notes · View notes

arinmelnikov · 4 years

Photo

❝𝕴 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖋 𝖎𝖙 𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖋𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.❞

– – an Arin Melnikov playlist.

1. “Trashed And Scattered” Avenged Sevenfold

Trashed and scattered again, I’m feeling so low You waste your breath while fucking with me, my blood is so cold My destination’s always unknown, I’ll find my way there But you goddamn motherfuckers always wasting my time

I wont be the a victim, but the first to cast a stone Sedated nights to the bar room fights as metropolis takes its toll And don’t you try to stop me, it’s a place you’ll never know Don’t try to judge or take shots at me, I’ll never let you seize control

Play your game and walk away, your integrity don’t mean shit Crawl on me, you fucking parasite, and I’m gonna take you out

2. “Spit It Out” Slipknot

Did you never give a damn in the first place? Maybe it's time you had the tables turned 'Cause in the interest of all involved, I got the problem solved, and the verdict is guilty Man nearly killed me, stepping where you fear to tread Stop, drop, and roll, you were dead from the get-go Big mouth fucker, stupid cocksucker, are you scared of me now? Then you're dumber than I thought Always is and never was, foundation made of piss and vinegar Step to me, I'll smear ya, think I fear your bullshit? Just another dumb punk chomping at this shit Here’s another way to break through the noise Was it something that I said that got you bent? Gotta be that way if you want it Sanity, literal profanity, hit me

Spit it out All you wanna do is drag me down All I wanna do is stamp you out

About time I set this record straight, all the needlenose punching is making me irate Sick of my bitching falling on deaf ears Where you gonna be in the next five years? The crew and all the fools and all the politics Get your lips ready, gonna gag, gonna make you sick You got dick when they passed out the good stuff Bam, are you sick of me? Good enough, had enough?

Fuck me, I’m all out of enemies Fuck me, I’m all out of enemies Fuck me, I’m all out of enemies

3. “Dust To Dust” Misfits

Hate you, father, for you have sinned Why did you let this life begin? I’m not your savior, I’m not your son A forgotten boy, abandoned creation

Oh, mother, father, answer me Your soulless son, your thing that should not be A brilliant demon, a monster god You gave me life, but took the soul away

With these final words, I pull the switch, we turn to dust Dust to dust My name is like the kiss of death And we embrace, we turn to dust With these final words, I pull the switch, we turn to dust Dust to dust My name is like the kiss of death Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

4. “Walk” Pantera

Can’t you see I’m easily bothered by persistence? One step from lashing out at you You want in, to get under my skin and call yourself a friend I’ve got more friends like you. what do I do?

Is there no standard anymore? What it takes, who I am, where I’ve been Belong You can’t be something you’re not Be yourself by yourself Stay away from me A lesson learned in life Known from the dawn of time

Respect, walk, what did you say? Respect, walk, are you talking to me? Are you talking to me?

5. “Lights Out” Mindless Self Indulgence

Who the hell said any of you get a taste? Do you ever wanna get up all in your face? And nothing you can do could ever make me go away Poor baby, I’m gonna make it all okay

Punch your lights out, hit the pavement That’s what I call entertainment Causing problems makes you famous All the violence makes a statement Punch your lights out, hit the pavement That’s what I call entertainment Causing problems makes you famous All this violence makes a statement

6. “Dead Ringer” Des Rocs

Oh, my reflection's from a time when all the worst was a game Nothing like the shake of life Stuck up in a race, race, race, race, race Hell caught a shadow of a guy Can’t find him one little break See, there’s a gap in his smile For fitting all his pain, pain, pain, pain, pain

Oh, lady I’ve got my hand on the trigger And it’s pointed at the dead ringer

Hold my cigarette while it’s lit And let it burn you, baby Oh, dead ringer, you’re so sick But you look amazing

7. “Are You Dead Yet?” Children Of Bodom

I kiss the ground with love beyond forever Flip off the sky with bleeding fingers till I die

Enemy, take one good look at me Eradicate what you will always be Tainted flesh, polluted soul Through a mirror I behold Throw a punch, shards bleed on the floor Tearing me apart, but I don’t care anymore Should I regret? Or ask myself Are you dead yet?

8. “Blood On My Hands” The Used

You felt the coldness in my eyes, and something I’m not revealing Though you got used to my disguise, you can��t shake this awful feeling It’s the me that I let you know ‘Cause I’ll never show, I have my reasons I hate to say that I told you so, but I told you so

There’s blood on my hands like the blood in you Some things can’t be treated, so don’t make me, don’t make me Be myself around you

9. “Absolute Zero” Stone Sour

The bloody angle, the symmetry Your cheap adhesive isn’t holding me My mouth is a gun I can shoot, I can show you the truth And I don’t need a reason to lie to you

No pun intended, no punishment If I offended you, you needed it Ideas are the bombs in your mind A fissure in time If you don’t have a weapon, you can’t have mine

I can bleed if I wanna bleed I can fail if I feel the need This face is my last confession This life, it feels like a prison

I am not afraid I’m giving in to grievances again You’re looking at an absolute zero I’m not the devil But I won’t be your hero

No fucking quarter, no premiums The world is stuck in delirium Man is a four-letter word, it’s really absurd The hate isn’t fake It’s just inferred

10. “Thank You For The Venom” My Chemical Romance

You’ll never make me leave I wear this on my sleeve You wanna follow something? Give me a better cause to lead Just give me what I need Give me a reason to believe

So give me all your poison, and give me all your pills And give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill You’re running after something that you’ll never kill If this is what you want Then fire at will

11. “Rather Die” Barns Courtney

I can touch the planets through the roof of my car You’re reaching for the heavens, only bark at the stars Now, all your hundred thousands best remember my name I’d sucker punch an army if it got in my way

I came to kill ‘em Now I’m wiping the spit from my eyes I’ll take a beating But I, I’ll never give up I, I, I think I’d rather die I think I’d rather die I think I’d rather I think I’d rather die

12. “Burning Flag” Marilyn Manson

I’ll join the crowd that wants to see me dead Right now I feel I belong for the first time Multiply your death, divide by sex Add up the violence and what do you get?

We are all just stars and we’re waiting We are all just scarred and we’re hating We are all just stars on your burning flag

You can point your gun at me And hope it will go away But if God was alive He would hate you anyway

13. “Bitter” Anarchy Club

I’m sick and tired of the sick and tired Because what it is just ain’t the thing it was before You’ve heard the stories all before But they’re all true What’s in the mirror, clearer Staring back at you

Set it, set it, set it Set it, set it, set it Set it, set it, set it Set it, set it, set it Set it off

14. “Bang” Empires

Well, I’m sick of banging with your skeleton You were gorgeous till you gave out all your skin Now I can never really take it to the heart again I still got yours blowing up inside my head

At least I’m waking up At least I’m waking up with you hiding in my bones At least I’m waking up I’m waking up You’re dying a legend, darling And I’m dying to touch you, baby

Oh wait, oh wait, before I let you go There’s a thread or two still left between our souls But you went messing with the gods and never fell away You’re still burning off the angel on your face

Oh, this is love Bang up my heart to get your love Bang in my heart to feel you, love Bang, bang up my heart to get your love Bang in my heart to feel you Gonna bang, bang up my heart to get your love Bang on my heart

15. “Flames” R3HAB, Zayn, Jungleboi

Well, well, you better run from me You better hit the road You better up and leave Don’t get too close

‘Cause I’m a rolling stone And I keep rolling on You better run from me Before I take your soul

If I go, let me go Don’t you follow me, let me go I will let you down, let me go Even if your heart can’t take it Light me up in flames

16. “Die MF Die” Dope

I don’t need your forgiveness I don’t need your hate I don’t need your acceptance So what should I do?

I’ll be sorry, so you’ve said I’m not sorry Bang, you’re dead

Die, motherfucker Die, motherfucker, die Die, motherfucker Die, motherfucker, die

17. “Bodies” Drowning Pool

Push me again This is the end

One, nothing wrong with me Two, nothing wrong with me Three, nothing wrong with me Four, nothing wrong with me One, something’s got to give Two, something’s got to give Three, something’s got to give Now

Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor

Skin against skin, blood and bone You’re all by yourself but you’re not alone You wanted in, and now you’re here Driven by hate, consumed by fear

18. “No Money” Kings Of Leon

Won’t you give me something I need? Won’t you peel me off of the street? Go and wet my tongue Or spit me up and break me a fever

Give me something I can believe in Give me something to walk me away I’m a waste of time And all in all a waste of a living

Can't you see me walking alone I've been down to the haunts and back And I'm way too tired Of blowing out the burning candle

And all this pissing around Cut loose in this fucking town I ain't coming back I got my ticket on to the next one

19. “Parasite Eve” Bring Me The Horizon

I heard they need better signal Put chip and pins in the needles Quarantine all of those secrets in that black hole you call a brain Before it’s too late

Really we just wanna scream something Only pretend to believe something I know you’re baying for blood I wanna turn you around

You can board up your windows You can lock all your doors But you can’t keep washing your hands of this shit anymore When all the king’s horses and all the king’s men Don’t know their asses from their pathogens When life is a prison and death is the door This ain’t a warning This is a war

It’s a parasite eve Got a feeling in your stomach ‘cause you know that it’s coming So you leave your flowers and grieve Don’t forget what they told you When we forget the infection Will we remember the lesson? If the suspense doesn’t kill you Something else will

20. “Dig” Mudvayne

I would love to beat the face of any motherfucker that’s thinking they can change me White-knuckle grip pushing through for the gold If you want a piece of me, I broke the motherfucking mold

Dig Bury me underneath everything that I am rearranging Dig Bury me underneath everything that I was slowly changing

Let me help you tie the rope around your neck Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge Let me help you hold the glock against your head Let me help you tie the rope around your neck Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge Let me help you hold the glock against your head Let me help to chain the weights onto your legs

21. “In Waves” Trivium

Do I end this all for the world to see? Do I take everybody else down Everybody else down with me?

I know that death approaches fast What’s the purpose if this life won’t last? Pulling everyone down with me

Perpetually Perpetually, we’re igniting it in waves Incessantly Incessantly, we’re sinking in flames

#soundtrack #( happy birthday arin :///// ily )#( no particular order to these songs so feel free to shuffle if u listen )#( fair warning it's full of metal )#( read more for lyrics™ )

3 notes · View notes

leavaloo · 4 years

Text

Commission Fic!

I was given permission by @samarazeroni to post the 2.5k word fic I was commissioned for! It’s a fluffy Chairman Rose x Reader, and was super fun to write. I hope you all enjoy! Fic under the cut <3

Rose had been working overtime.

It was extremely obvious at this very moment, when the coffee he had been drinking all day had finally worn off, and the exhaustion of several days of no sleep were starting to filter into his system. He rested his head in his hands, barely able to stay awake, and at this point, the words on the document in front of him had started to blur and fly around his head.

He shook his head for what seemed like the millionth time today. Rose was sure that, at this point, Oleana thought he had a caffeine addiction, and was simply not saying anything about it. He wondered if he should start a coffee business on the side, just to get it for free, or at least a discount. He yawned, pulling out his phone from his pocket and looking at the time, which was also barely readable. 2:06 am. He sighed, attempting to scroll through his notifications, but he found that the bright screen only worsened his headache.

The chairman looked down at the document in front of him, not really ready to go over the thousands of boring sheets of paper. Even though reading through the lines was a specialty of his, at this point, some words were just becoming blobs in his head, and he wasn’t processing anything that his brain was trying to filter through. He leaned back in his chair, a long, tired and fed up groan escaping his lips. He looked around at his office, giving a slight smile to himself.

It was luxurious, that was for certain. Everything was so clean that even the smallest speck would not survive the wrath of the cleaning lady. Dark oak wood lined the walls, each decorated with gold trimmings, which also translated into every piece of wooden furniture he could find. His desk was the same, as were his bookcases and tables for guests to sit by. Each little gold inlay had its own unique, custom design, usually depicting some sort of history pertaining to Galar.

The oak wood beneath his feet was so polished he could see his reflection in it. A beautiful, intricate red rug laid all the way from the floor to his desk, where two, lavish, simple black leather seats had been placed. There were the general lights, produced from beautiful, gold and silver chandeliers, and then there was the simple desk light that he was using. That in and of itself was top quality, and it did great to light up his desk. From here, though, he could barely even see the crimson couch that resided next to the coffee table.

He smiled to himself, head bonking against the back of his chair, closed his eyes and shook his head. How impossibly far he had come from his youth. Though, as much as things had changed, there was always something that had stayed the same. He had always been interested in history, no matter how far back it was. If he had the ability to get his hands on ancient texts, he would add it to his collection. He was always careful not to damage the books whenever he read them, but the entire time he would be enamored.

It wasn’t just history for Galar, either. Galar’s was just the most accessible in terms of myths and legends. He had some from Sinnoh, from Hoenn, Kanto, Johto, all over. He had at least one book from every region, and while those were ten times more difficult to get his hands on, he would go through the process and fetch them the coin. There were points in time where he just had to settle for replicas, but just the thrill of being able to learn more was enough to keep him going day to day.

He turned his chair around to get a good look at all of Galar displayed in front of him from a seamless, full panned window. He could see almost the entire region, from Wyndon to Potswick. Below him were so many people living out their lives, tucked away in their beds, dreaming of a peaceful tomorrow. He wished nothing more than to explore far beyond the frigid shores, if only to find the past that would better the world for the future.

The entire, vast world out there was just waiting to be dug up and revealed. All the secrets and history from those long past could live on within the pages of books. That was the true beauty of it. If he could have, he would have become an archeologist, just so he could get up close and personal with some of these important structures and past times. But here he was, stuck in this office, filling out paperwork having to do with new businesses and some more gym challenge logistics.

The twinkling lights of the Galar region blinked at him lovingly, and he slowly began to wonder how all the histories worked alongside each other. This was normally a thought process that entered his brain when he was tired and unmotivated to do any work. For one, how did the Kalos incident really work out? It correlated at about the same time as the darkest day happened, and yet, there was no other mention of them connecting other than the three thousand year time span.

Rose had heard of others starting to play around with the idea of manipulating time, specifically of those from Team Galactic in the Sinnoh region. He had heard of other evil teams messing with Pokemon of legend, like Team Plasma making two legendary Pokemon become one single being of unfathomable power.

There was talk of the burned tower from Johto spawning three legendary Pokemon from it’s fires, all of which were thought to be evolutions of Eevee. And of course, there were the ultra beasts, the ones that moved through time and space to end up in worlds that Rose had no hope of even comprehending.

All of this made him feel strange. From the horrible powers of legendary Pokemon, to the thought that humans could even try to manipulate such a thing. It was… a thought process to be sure. He had researched enough about wishing stars and the darkest day to understand that he could do something with that, if he had enough wishing stars at least. But as of right now, that was only a thought for him and his morally conflicted brain to sort out.

At this point, he had started to doze off, without really realizing it this time. In fact, he didn’t hear the small click of the door opening, the light coming in from the hallway, or the small footsteps approaching him. He jumped awake when he felt a hand on his chest, looking up to see his beautiful wife.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” you purred at him, a hand running through his hair.

Rose smiled, adjusting himself on the chair. “Good morning, love. Why are you here?”

You shrugged. “The bed was cold without you.”

He smiled up at you. “Ah, I see. And it wasn’t from Oleanna texting you that I had been here for a while?”

You held your hand up to your mouth in fake surprise. “What?! I have never been sent a text from Oleanna about your well being ever! In my entire life!”

Rose chuckled and pulled you onto his lap. You laughed right along with him, snuggling into his chest. Your hands started to play with the intricate parts of his outfit, clicking your tongue slightly in disapproval. “I must say, I much prefer your casual wear than this.”

“As do I, though it seems I can’t take it off quite yet.”

You lifted your head and frowned at the man. “You’re coming home with me tonight and taking the day off tomorrow.”

Rose furrowed his eyebrows. “But—”

“No! No buts! I’ve already spoken with Oleanna about this. You’re so exhausted you were nearly dead asleep when I came in!”

He couldn’t argue there, and simply hung his head, defeated. If there was one person he couldn’t say no to, it was you. That was why, when he was being stubborn and not taking care of himself, the entire cast and crew behind the scenes would collaborate with you, even if it was only in an attempt to let Rose rest for a day. You laughed softly, pushing some of the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes back to his ears.

“I concede,” he cooed at you, soft smile on his face as he captured your lips briefly in his.

You pulled back, smiling, but eyebrows raised. “That was faster than usual. In fact, I think that might’ve been a new record. You usually put up at least some form of fight.”

“I’ll be honest, I’m too tired to fight right now. I just want you, and that’s all.”

His arms wrapped around your waist, and he nuzzled into your neck, taking in the sweet scent of your cinnamon perfume. A low, content grumble eminanted from his chest, and yet you stood, causing him to almost whine. But as soon as you nodded to the couch, he understood and allowed himself to be dragged by you.

“I figured the chair wouldn’t be a nice place to sleep for either of us.”

Without resisting, Rose plopped down on his back on the couch, taking off some of the layers that were basically keeping him captive. You cuddled up to him, laying your head right where his heart was, letting lose your own happy groan. The two of you didn’t even care that the light on his desk was still turned on, you were just happy with the embrace of the other.

His heart was always fast when it was around you. Even after a couple years of marriage, you still had this effect on him. There were points in time where you were so dastardly gorgeous that you stole his breath away, and he would have to remind himself how to properly breathe. And while you were just in some simple pajamas, you still had a beautiful glow to you.

Rose barely had the strength to move his hand, but he managed to lace his fingers with yours and leaned down to kiss your head. As he closed his eyes against the surface of the couch, he relished in your warmth for every second he could. How long had it been since he had really gotten any time with you? It felt like years, it was so long.

And for you, his heart was always something special to you. It was the reason he was breathing, right now, with your ring on his finger. You could feel the cool metal against your own, and just the thought of your wedding day made you feel all tingly and giggly inside. His heart was important to you, because you hoped that it wouldn’t even think of another love. It was only fair, since he had your heart tightly wrapped around his pinky finger, even though most people saw it as the other way around.

The two of you had been smitten from the moment you laid eyes on each other, but refused to confess your love for years. When he finally got down on one knee, it was the best time of your life. The wedding was fabulous, on top of everything you had ever wanted. But afterwards, you were able to see a side of him that no one else really saw. You have always been able to see it, of course, but it was plain as day once the honeymoon commenced.

Rose, behind all this flash and glamour, was a very simple man who just wanted simple things. You always got the sense that he never really anticipated this kind of lifestyle, but that he embraced it all the same. He really only wanted to do something better for the world, and his thought that he had as a child was enough to spark an entirely new business. So yes, even though there was all of this pomp and circumstance in his presentation, you were sure that this simple cuddling was all he really needed right now.

“Love,” he purred, nearly asleep already.

“Yes, my dear?”

“You know I love you, right?”

You brought your head up from his beating heart and placed a light kiss on his cheek. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

A long sigh escaped his chest. “I worry sometimes. Worry that I’m not coming home enough to spend time with you, and that with you having to get me all the time… well, I suppose I feel like I’m not giving you enough love in our day to day lives.”

“Rose, darling,” you cooed at him. “I know how busy you are, and I also know that you wish to protect me from that craziness. I, of course, want nothing more than to be by your side, but sometimes, I don’t get to keep you with me all the time. Sometimes I think that’s better.”

“Better, huh?”

“Well yes. Have you noticed that we don’t get in as many fights as some of the other couples around us?”

Rose thought for a second. “I suppose that’s true…”

“And besides, you’re never really gone for more than a week. A week is only if you have a business trip. There are nights where I feel you crawl into bed at 5 am and wrap your arms around me, snuggling me tight. It’s enough to let me know that you missed me. So please, love, don’t worry.”

Rose chuckled, holding your head to his chest. “You know that that explanation will only quell my fears for a short amount of time, right?”

“Mhm,” you giggled. “I’m well aware of that. But I will never stop telling you it, even if it only slightly fights off your anxiety.”

One final, tired laugh was all Rose had in him before he cuddled you close to him, thinking of all of the wonderful times the two of you had spent together. It was enough to bring him from his usual thought pattern of history, and he found himself drifting into a nice, calm sleep.

You smiled to yourself, resting your head on his heart once more. This was all you really needed, in the end. This fancy stuff was never necessary, it was just a little added bonus. You had been gifted a man who loved you, no matter what happened, and that was the biggest thing for you. His heartbeat was lulling, soft yet constant. It let you know that he was alive and well, and in turn, you were as too. It meant so much to you.

The two of you slept far into the morning, and apparently, Oleanna had come in several times to make sure the two of you weren’t dead. All meetings had been canceled for the day, per you two’s discussion earlier. Eventually, the two of you dragged each other from the couch and into a car, which was then driven to your estate. The bed was much comfier anyways, which basically lulled both of you back into a sleepy cuddle pile. Neither of you really minded that you wasted the entire day sleeping, and honestly, it was probably the best call for Chairman Rose. For the next week, he finally seemed refreshed, but the cycle started anew with a brand new week. Though, that meant more cuddling for him, so he wasn’t really complaining.

#Chairman rose #pokemon imagines #pokemon #pokemon rose #rose swsh #chairman rose swsh #pokemon swsh #pokemon swsh writing #pokemon sword and shield #minor spoilers #commission posting #commission story #commissions #commission writing #fluff #chairman rose x reader #fluff chairman rose

68 notes · View notes

magisterlys · 4 years

Text

Perilously Close

Written Cross the Stars: Chapter 10

Summary: Braham follows the commander into the depths of a Stone Summit tomb in search of a lost repository of knowledge. It goes about as well as one might expect and the pair find themselves lost in the darkness and beset by ancient creatures.

Well, after about two weeks longer than expected! This one is adventure, banter and a few stolen soft moments before shit hits the fan. I hope it’s enjoyable! (awooo)

“I thought you said this place had been explored. Excavated, whatever.”

Lys knelt to retrieve what arrows she could from the dead cave troll at her feet, “It was, but that was …” Blasted troll hide was so thick, she barely got three back from the dozen she’d shot, “That was before Zhaitan. This place was crawling with risen, so only a surface dig. The krewe found the cave we went through but didn’t explore deeper.”

“And uh … “ Braham shook a bit of troll from his mace, made a face as he hung the weapon from his belt, “What exactly was this place again?”

Lys chuckled, paused as she moved past him to smirk teasingly, “If I tell you, are you just going to forget in ten minutes?”

Braham flashed a grin as he fell in behind the commander, picking his way over the rubble blocking the narrow path, “I mean probably, yeah. But you love talking about this stuff so does it matter?”

She shook her head, paused to set her shoulder against a piece of fallen masonry, pushing it out of the way so the larger norn could make it through as well, “It was called Camp Rankor several centuries ago. A Stone Summit outpost.”

“Stone Summit? So the uh, extra awful dwarves.”

“With the slavery and the world-conquering and the dark rituals? Yes, those.”

“And we’re crawling through one of their tombs now why?” Braham ducked low to follow Lys through a partially shifted archway, “Let me rephrase that. You were going to go crawling through one of their tombs alone now why?”

Engrossed in considering which of the two pathways ahead they should take, Lys only half heard him, “Dragan Duskfallow. A brother of Duncan the Black. He was as close to a scholar as the Stone Summit get, I think. Had an admirable hobby of collecting the last known copy of rare manuscripts.”

“That doesn’t sound like a Stone Summit thing to do.”

Lys turned to her right, finally settling on the tunnel with the least amount of measurable airflow, “He made sure his copy was the last by systematically destroying any others.”

“Oh.” Braham followed close behind the commander, “Okay, that sounds more like them. And because he’s a dwarf, you figure he was buried with these things?”

“Well, he didn’t donate them to a library, that’s for sure.” She stopped short. The tunnel ahead of them had shifted sometime in the numerous intervening years. Ahead of her was a drop of at least fifteen feet, down into the shadows cast by flicking runes lining the walls.

Braham paused as well and leaned over to follow her gaze down. He gave her a grin, “Let me, this is where I shine.”

Lys just shook her head, watching as he knelt at the edge and then effortlessly swung off the side, landing nimbly below.

“I’ve got you.” Braham raised his arms and looked up at her, gestured for her to jump. It wasn’t that far, but it wouldn’t have been the kind of jump she’d make straight off the edge if someone had not been there to catch her. She didn’t hesitate though as she stepped off, not with Braham.

He caught her by the waist as she fell, carefully lowered her until her feet touched the ground. Whenever she was this close he was always struck by how small she seemed, like the mantle of The Commander fell away and he could see Lys in all her fallible, perfect humanity. A rare glimpse beyond the title that so few got to see. It made him feel … special.

He’d placed her perilously close. As they stood there, as he looked down at her, his grip tightened, fingers digging into her back as he drew her even closer. She wanted to say something but words died in her throat as Braham leaned down and pressed his lips to her brow, just above her right eye where the scar was the most prominent. It was such a gentle kiss, slow and deliberate, lingering. She breathed out slowly, her eyes closing as she rested her hands on his waist.

Braham let his forehead fall against hers, closing his eyes. He felt certain that she could hear the pounding of his heart, it was so loud. “Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn’t have, I just … I missed you.”

“It’s alright.” She spoke quietly, “I missed you too.”

“Does it still hurt?” His eyes were open now, watching as her lashes fluttered. He wished she’d open her eyes, wished she’d really look at him.

“No. Well, only when I look in the mirror.” She gave an awkward laugh, a joke meant to brush off the question but as she opened her eyes and saw Braham looking at her with that intense expression he gave her sometimes, her laugh died in her throat. It was hard to hold his gaze, but she forced herself to do it. “No, it doesn’t hurt. Just feels … odd.”

Braham let go of her waist, moved his hands up to cradle the back of her head, tilting her face back so he could see her more clearly. She rose up on her toes in response, leaning against him for balance and it was all he could do not to kiss her for that. He managed to behave, gave her a soft smile as he blinked down at her, “You shouldn’t be ashamed. Scars are stories, the marks of your legend. They’re part of you now, Lys and you’re … beautiful. Never been more beautiful, if you ask me.”

“Braham …” That was it. That was all she could manage. She didn’t feel beautiful, she felt ashamed of her own vanity and constantly, constantly reminded of her near-death every time she turned too quickly, felt the tug of taunt, twisted scar tissues in her neck. She felt it when she smiled, like punishment for daring.

He caught the quiver of her bottom lip, felt the tremble in her frame as she leaned against him and though every instinct told him to make her believe him, right here and now, he reluctantly admitted that the darken, rubble-strewn tunnel of a dwarven tomb was maybe not the best location, “This probably isn’t the right time for that talk, is it?” He offered with a half-smile.

“No, we uh,” Lys laughed softly and took a step back, extracting herself from Braham’s touch, “Should probably get moving.”

Beyond the drop-off the narrow tunnel opened into the high vaulted ceilings, tall pillars lining a path that spiraled subtly downward. The sight of it had elated the commander, made her quicken her pace, though she paused now and then to study the runes on the wall and mumble to herself.

“We’re on the right path then, I take it? You’re doing your mumbling thing.”

“What? Oh, yes.” Lys had nearly forgotten he was there, she was so engrossed with her search. She hadn’t seen a single piece of graffiti so far, or marks of dredge activity. Even if this wasn’t Duskfallow’s tomb, finding any undisturbed dwarven tomb could be a significant find. As they rounded the next corner Lys skidded to a stop and couldn’t help herself, she squealed in delight.

“Something things never change …” Braham chuckled softly, watching as the commander clasped her hands and grinned up at the massive, arched stone doors blocking their progress. “This what we’re looking for then?”

Set into the center of the doors was a circular indentation, about the size of a dinner plate and several inches deep. She swung her bag off her back, dropped it to the floor at her feet and retrieved a circle of stone latticed with runework over its concave face from within. “Only one way to find out.”

Braham couldn’t help but think perhaps this was a bad idea but before he was able to voice that opinion, the commander had already slipped the runestone into place. The stone began to glow, an image like a tower hidden in the knotwork burning white-hot. The heat branched out, tracing ever quicking lines through the door, like something unfurling. Braham grabbed Lys’s arm and yanked her back behind him as the doors began to grate and groan.

“What- !” Lys sputtered as she found herself suddenly staring at Braham’s broad back, his hand still holding her arm tightly. “I’m okay, you … oaf.” She said the word fondly, gently patted his hand until he released her.

He frowned down at her as she moved around to his side, “This dwarf stuff gives me a funny feeling. I don’t like it, Lys.”

The doors had opened, revealing a large brazier of flicking blue fire and beyond, a darkened archway. She was distracted, but looked back at Braham as he spoke and rested her hand comfortingly on his arm, “I know you don’t, mo chuisle.”

Braham blinked in confusion after the commander, followed her as she stepped through the doorway, “What … did you call me?”

“Perhaps I’ll tell you someday.” She was happy her back was to him, hiding the color on her cheeks as she summoned a wisp of pale sunlight in her palm and tossed it through the archway ahead, into the darkness beyond. The light held for the briefest of moments and then was promptly swallowed up the darkness. Instiquished in an instant.

“Uhh …” Braham spoke up from behind her, “Did I mention I don’t like this dwarf stuff?”

“You did.” She nodded once and retrieved an unlit torch from the lines on the wall. Though ancient it still ignited instantly when she touched it to the brazier, flicking with a bright blue flame. She stepped back to the archway and extended her arm, pushed the torch forward into the inky blackness. Unlike her magic, this light continued to burn, casting a faint half circle a few feet out into the room. “Thought so.”

“I really don’t like this.” Braham had moved to her side, peer out into the edge of the light’s shadows.

“Magical darkness.” She explained with a grin then retrieved a second torch and lit it as well, offering it to him, “We can assume there’s traps or something similar in the room beyond, we’ll need to move carefully, but not dawdle.”

Braham accepted the torch, scowling at her, “Have I ever mentioned how unnerving it is when you get all excited in places like this?”

“You probably have at some point, but I was too excited at the time to remember.” She winked at him, his deepening scowl only making her smile more. “Come on, take my hand and stick close. I’ll take lead, just step where I step.”

He took her hand as asked, laced their fingers together and gave her a tight squeeze. She looked up at him and returned the gesture, then stepped into the room. The darkness rushed in like liquid, pressed against the light of their torches as if it hungered to extinguish them. The room they now stood in felt massive, though there was no way to tell, only the way their footsteps on the stone floor echoed hinted at a cavern overhead and concerningly, below as well.

“I’ve just remembered a conversation we had ages ago, in Camp Resolve.”

“We’re surrounded by magical darkness, picking our way through a death trap two steps at a time and you’re reminiscing?”

She squeezed his hand and came to a halt. The light a scant foot ahead stopped, finding no more floor to illuminate. She turned to their right, picking a careful way forward. “I suppose so? You told me how you’d never understand ‘us Priory people’.”

“I vaguely remember that.” He was keeping his eyes ahead of the commander, expecting at any moment to need to pull her back from plummeting off a ledge. “And I still don’t.”

“You said you couldn’t understand how crawling through a dusty ruin could be fun.”

“This isn’t *fun*, Lys.” He growled and pulled her to a stop again. Ahead of them, the path dropped off on three sides with no way forward. “Extremely not fun.

“You’re just upset because there’s nothing to bash your mace into. Maybe there will be a nice cave troll or something on the other side.”

“Will you please stop joking about this. How are we supposed to keep going?”

Lys swung her torch wide, squinting into the darkness. Spotting what she was looking for she carefully tossed her torch into the darkness, watching it flip end over end until it landed on another ledge several feet away. The light of the sailing torch had briefly illuminated the depths of the abyss below and Lys hoped to herself that Braham hadn’t noticed. Based on the glare he was giving her when she turned around, he had.

“You’re going to jump that, aren’t you?” He spoke flatly.

“That was the plan, yes. It’s only a few feet, we can both make it easily.”

“Let me go first then, we have no idea what’s on the other side.”

He was giving her his stubborn look and she knew better than to argue, “As you wish. Hand me your torch? And pick that one up as soon as you land.”

He did as she asked, offering her his torch. As she accepted it he leaned down and kissed her cheek, then took a flying leap forward before she could react. Lys’s breath caught in her throat as the darkness swallowed him, and she didn’t breathe again until he appeared in the steady light on the other side and retrieved the torch.

“Come on then, and be careful. It’s farther away than it seems.”

She took a death breath, shifted her weight and leapt. She felt a spike of terror as she sailed through the air, nothing solid around her, just the abyss below and the darkness around. Her feet had barely touched the floor before Braham caught her, his arm around her waist as he dragged her back from the looming edge.

“See? No problem.” The tremble her voice betrayed her, and she cleared her throat as Braham reluctantly let her go. She caught his hand again, slipping her fingers between his just as he had done to her earlier and began to pick their way slowly forward again.

“Yeah, absolutely no -” He began to snarkily agree but cut himself short as something scrabbled in the darkness somewhere nearby, claws on stone. They both spun toward the sound, lifting their torches. “What was that?”

“I’m not …” To their other side, a pebbled skidded across the stone floor, landed squarely in the meager circle of light around them. All around them, something was waking, a lot of somethings. Scurrying, scratching, claws scraping stone and faint familiar bwips. “Shadow skelk. They shouldn’t enter the light, probably. Maybe.”

“Full of confidence here, Commander.”

“Don’t you Commander me now. Come on, keep your torch up and let’s just move as quickly as we can while still being -”

The light around them wavered, pulsed once. Twice, as if struggling and then all at once Braham’s torch died. He cursed, “Wolf’s teeth, you have got to be kidding me!”

Lys pulled him closer, into the now much smaller circle of light cast by her torch, “Um, perhaps more quickly than originally intended.”

“Fine, I won’t Commander you. I’m leading, Lys.” He swung her around, still holding her hand tightly as he stepped out in front of her. His mace was in his other hand now as he stood on the edge of the light. “Hold the torch up and stay close, what exactly are we looking for?”

She followed his orders, lifting the torch high over his shoulder. Around them the shuffling grew louder, the pops and bwips of moving skelk more frequent. “A wall at this point. Hopefully another brazier to light, or an exit.” She thought she caught movement on edge of the light, an inky black tail slithering briefly into view.

Braham was moving to the edge of the light with each step, waiting for the light to illuminate the floor before he stepped again. It was a frustratingly slow staccato progress. They’d both grown quiet, he was trying to count the sources of movement, but it was impossible. There were so many of them out there, and this stupid light their only defense. They couldn’t fight in darkness, they couldn’t find their way out even if they survived the skelk. All of this for some bloody stupid books.

“Braham, I think …” Something brushed her leg, she was certain of it. But before she could continue her warning something massive suddenly slammed into her, knocking the wind out of her and sending her flying backward with such force that she was wrenched away from Braham, her hand slipping from his as the torch she held went flying several feet away.

“Lys!” Braham spun around just in time to see the commander disappear as the torch ricocheted off the floor, bounced several feet away and plunged him into the darkness as well. Something brushed against his side, snapped at the air nearby. He swung toward it, his mace connecting with something that yelped and withdrew. Another hit his leg and he felt teeth scraping the metal of his gauntlet, trying to grab his arm.

Lost in the darkness, the commander struggled with her attacker. The creature was nearly as large as she. It’s heavy foot pressed down on her chest, holding her pinned to the floor. As she kicked and thrashed, struggling to free herself something razor-sharp sunk into her thigh. She screamed, lashing out into the darkness as claws dragged through her flesh.

The sound of Lys, of his Lys, screaming awoke something in Braham. Like fire engulfing his heart. Wolf tore through his veins and he snarled as he lunged forward into the inky blackness. He could see them now, vaguely. The beast had her trapped on the ground and she screamed again as it raked its claws from her leg, lifting them to swipe toward her face. It didn’t get the chance. Braham threw himself on it, digging his claws into the surprised beast’s back. With a swift twist and a guttural snarl of anger, he broke its neck, tossing the limp corpse into the darkness.

Lys couldn’t see what was happening, she just knew that suddenly her attacker was gone and something very, very angry now loomed over her. She tried to push herself to her feet, to scurry away from it but her leg screamed in protest, sent bolts of pain up her spine that made her cry out again.

“It’s okay, it’s me. It’s me.” There was an edge to Braham’s voice, an unusual growl to his timbre and it wasn’t until she realized that the arms now picking her up were covered with soft fur that she realized what had happened.

“Braham, you …” She hissed, clenching her teeth as he lifted her effortlessly from the ground. They were running, blindly from her perspective, but she felt his hold on her tighten as they flew suddenly through the air, barely pausing as they landed what must be a dozen feet away. The creatures pursued them relentlessly, teeth snapping behind her, claws grazing her armor. Braham snarled as they tore through the darkness, occasionally connecting with a skelk and sending its yelps of pain echoing through the cavern as he tossed it aside.

The darkness, the movement, the blood pooling in her boots. It was hard to tell, with no orientation but Lys was certain she’d blacked out. No concept of how long they’d been running, she just prayed to whichever of her useless gods weren’t listening that she wasn’t imagining the faint light ahead before it all went dark again.

#braham/commander #braham eirrson #gw2 fanfiction #tyriaslibrary #this took so much effort omg

14 notes · View notes

lizablee · 4 years

Text

Choices (Linked Universe) pt 3

Characters derived from the Linked Universe AU by @jojo56830 (@linkeduniverse) --> tws in the tags, shit gets real.<--

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Time felt the air shift and looked to the sky. The lightning was still flickering, but the thunder didn’t follow as it had before, and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. The storm’s moving away.

Something moved in the darkness. He turned quietly, drawing his bow. The world was silent for another moment, then a torch appeared, a tiny light weaving its way through the long grass. He relaxed as he saw Four approaching, drenched from the rain and flushed with exertion.

“Where are the others?” Four began quickly.

“Legend and the captain have gone to the bay. Our ranch hand and Sky abseiled down.” Time glanced at his bow. “I’m keeping watch.”

Four took a deep breath, nodding. “I got more out of the kid after he calmed down. He watched our champion fall. He never deployed his paraglider, he just… disappeared.”

Time frowned. “So there’s no point in searching the bay then.”

“Unless he was able to swim there,” Four suggested. “It’s a ways to go, but he’s tough.”

“He’s not the strongest swimmer,” Time mused. “If he had the energy, he’d be more likely to climb up, or at least to hold on to the cliff face.”

Four looked down into the ocean. It really was just as Wind described - darkness. He focused hard on the water, trying to see any signs of his friends.

A ripple of light went through the waves. Four’s eyes widened. A sword beam?

“I think they’re under attack.” He exclaimed. Time gritted his teeth. Nothing I can do.

Four noticed his silence. “Old man. Are you alright?’ he asked, searching his face.

Time dragged his eyes away from the sea. Four looked calm. This irritated him, but he didn’t know why.

“I can’t help them.” he murmured. “Not from up here. I’m useless.”

Four crossed his arms. “You’re not useless. You’re on guard.” Time ran a hand through his hair, frowning. Four sighed. “I get it. I want to be down there too.”

A chime rang out from Four’s tunic, startling the hero. He pulled a glowing object from his pocket, opening his palm to reveal a stone glittering with blue light. The Pirate’s Charm!

The pair cringed as the device projected a harsh crackling sound. The noise morphed into a familiar voice.

“Hey sailor, can you hear us? It’s Sky!”

“We hear you, Sky. It’s just me and the old man. The kid’s resting up. What’s your status?”

“We’re in a cave. We found our champion. He drowned, but he’s OK now.” They heard a harsh cough in the background. Four and Time exchanged a look.

“Well, I mean, he’s alive.” Sky said. There was a rustle, and the sound coming through the charm became muffled. Sky’s voice was soft. “He’s not looking great. There was a monster down here that wounded him pretty badly. We can’t see the full damage, but he’s saying… things.”

“What kind of things?”

---

Twilight held the Sheikah Slate like it was about to bite him. The blue light running through it danced over his fingertips and cast a soft glow through the cavern. It was a poor substitute for a fire, but Wild hadn’t been conscious enough to do anything beyond activating the device.

“Can you lean in a bit closer,” Sky grumbled. “I can barely see as it is, holding that thing way over there isn’t helping.” The Master Sword sat unsheathed next to them, its own glow pulsing gently.

“How about you hold it up and I’ll bandage him then?” Twilight said testily. Wild made a small noise. “Shut up, you.” Twilight muttered. “It’s not happening.”

Twilight’s first move after Wild had been revived was to disappear into the darkness, exploring how deep the cave was and searching for enemies. Sky thought it was a horrible idea, until Twilight came back with the Sheikah Slate in hand. The lizalfos must have surprised Wild in the cave.

The first thing Twilight said when he returned was that he could smell blood.

Wild’s wound was severe, a laceration circling his torso and cutting deep into his abdomen. He was in a lot of pain. Sky had to remind himself of that. He was in pain, which must be why he was saying those things.

The storm clouds had begun to clear, leeching away into the night. A hopeful haze of moonlight broke through, touching the waves and giving the world shape. Sky looked out to the water, reaching and pulling at the sandbank inside the cave. It had seemed so deep and wild not so long ago. He knew his optimism was driving the ranch hand crazy, but he was truly starting to feel like their luck had turned.

As if on cue, voices rang out from the ocean. Sky looked at Twilight in surprise. The ranch hand dropped the Sheikah Slate and waded into the shallows, pushing against breakers. He peered out of the cave mouth, then threw himself backwards with a shout.

In a rush, a raft tore through where he had been standing. Legend was crouched low behind the mast, rapidly retracting hookshot in hand. Warrior held a shield between them and the wind, a lit torch fluttering in his hand. Their mouths fell open as they flew past the cave and vanished. Twilight felt the wash ripple around him.

“Help has arrived,” he said weakly.

The raft made its unsteady way back to the cave, its passengers haphazardly waving Korok leaves at the unfurled sail. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to use the hookshot,” Warrior argued. “You nearly ran over our ranch hand!”

“My mistake, I forgot waving leaves could make boats move.” Legend deadpanned, flapping his leaf faster. The raft came to an abrupt stop, digging into the sand, sending the pair stumbling forward. Warrior lifted his torch, flooding the cavern with light.

“Oh,” he said numbly. “You don’t look so good, champ.”

Wild was a mess. The cloth Sky had been pressing to his midsection was soaked through with seawater and blood. Warrior wasted no time, handing his torch to Twilight and falling to Wild’s side. “Help me sit him up. We need to wrap his whole abdomen.” His tone was grim.

Legend pulled out a dagger and began to cut away at Wild’s tunic. Wild caught his wrist in a surprisingly firm grip. “Wait,” Wild said softly. “It’ll be OK. Just let me die.”

Legend reeled. “Have you lost your mind?” he demanded.

“He keeps saying that.” Sky said sadly, helping Warrior to pull Wild into a sit. “And talking about someone called Mipha.” Legend’s eyes widened.

“You don’t get it.” Wild groaned. “This happens all the time. S’ok.” Legend shot Twilight an incredulous look. Twilight looked like he was ready to break something.

“What about potions?” Warrior interrupted.

“He won’t take them.” Twilight muttered.

“He’s choking on them.” Sky clarified. “He was just drowned.”

Twilight growled something under his breath. The torch flickered as he paced, agitated. Shadows swirled around the cavern. Legend drew out a bundle of fresh bandages. In a quick movement, he pulled the soaked cloth away from the wound. Wild bit back a shout. For a brief moment Legend cast his eyes over the laceration before pressing a fresh compress down hard. Wild cried out.

“This is bad. He needs a fairy.” Legend said grimly. He got to work quickly, bandaging as tightly as he dared.

“I’ll call the old man,” Twilight said, tossing the torch to Warrior. He snatched up the Sheikah Slate and paced towards the cave mouth. Warrior held the torch closer to Wild, hoping the warmth would make some difference.

“We need to get out of here and get some help.” the leader spoke. “Fastest way is up. Any ideas?”

“Same way we came down.” Sky piped up. “We strap him to my back and use my clawshots to get up. He’s not that heavy. If I’m careful, I can make it with both of us.”

“Do those clawshots work in this weather? The rain has died down, but there’s still wind,” Legend pointed out. Sky nodded.

“Those trees are strong, they fight against the sea all the time. I can use them, and move with the wind so we don’t hit the cliff face.” Sky sounded confident. Wild opened his mouth to speak, but his voice dissolved into harsh coughs. Legend shushed him while Sky patted him between the shoulderblades. Wild groaned.

“The rest of us should take the raft back. It’s too dangerous to scale the cliff in these conditions.” Warrior decided.

Sky and Legend finished tightening Wild’s bandages. The hero had gone pale and quiet, watching them work with glassy eyes. Twilight returned, attaching the Sheikah Slate to its place on Wild’s belt.

“I’m sorry. If I hadn’t lost my other clawshot, I could take him up.” He looked to Sky. “The old man’s going to meet you both at the top with a fairy.” His eyes flickered to Wild, meeting the fallen hero’s eyes. “I’m sorry.” He said more softly. “I know this isn’t what you want.”

Wild’s eyes drifted shut. Twilight’s face fell.

“Kid?”

You’re not going to like this, but I can’t put you guys at risk.

“Hey, you with us?”

Wild felt the world spin. He hoped he’d acted quickly enough. He hoped his gamble would work.

The dagger fell from his fingers.

“What’s happening?”

“Did his wound reopen?”

“This reminds me of the first time we met. You were just a reckless child... always getting yourself hurt at every turn. Every time I would heal you, just as I'm doing right now.”

“Hey, stay with me! Open your eyes!”

“No matter when, or how bad the wound... I hope you know... that I will always protect you.”

Something was forced into his mouth. He struggled, gagging, breathing in something that burned, swallowing bubbles of cool liquid. The object was torn away with a shout. He gasped for air.

“Stop! He’s choking!”

“It’s working!”

“You know what usually goes through my mind...it helps when I think-when I think about-”

“There’s no more time. Go now!”

“Do you really remember me?”

I don’t know.

I’m sorry.

#linkeduniverse #fanfiction #tw: suicide #linked universe #jojo56830 #angst #first fanfic

33 notes · View notes

ashleyjouharphotowords · 4 years

Photo

‘Getting ready to rock - and why we still love a festival, 50 years after Woodstock’.

A potted history of the Music Festival, written for the Superstock Image Library.

Peace and Love, man. And believe it or not, Mozart.

In 18th Century England, the cathedrals would fill with the festival-goers of the day, keen to hear the sublime music of Mozart, Beethoven and Rossini. These gatherings were some of the first music festivals in existence.

The word ‘festival’ itself was first recorded in the English language in the middle of the 16th century. It derives from the word ‘feast’, celebrating the harvest.

Before that, in ancient Greece, they used to hold The Pythian Games, a festival of culture in which art, dance and music were performed, pre-dating the sporting aspects of the games.

Of course 1969’s Woodstock Festival is probably the most famous festival of all and the one that expanded 1967’s Summer of Love experience to really put festivals on the map.

In Bethel, upstate New York between 15 and 18 August 1969, 500,000 hippies sprawled out watching performances by, amongst others Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Santana, Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Grateful Dead and The Who.

The myth persists that it was all ‘peace and love’ and spaced out bliss for those that were there. The reality, particularly for the bands was somewhat different. The Who’s singer, Roger Daltrey recalled “We were due on in the evening but by four the next morning we were still hanging around backstage in a muddy field waiting. And waiting some more.”

This really goes against the grain of the legend of Woodstock, especially when Daltrey goes on to say “Three days of peace and love? Do me a favor. It was crazy even before we arrived. Pete (Townshend) spent several hours in the traffic jams. Other artists didn’t make it at all. The whole place was chaos.”

A few months later on Saturday 6 December of the same year a free concert at Altamont Speedway Race Track was held, featuring bands such as Crosby Stills, Nash and Young, Jefferson Airplane and The Rolling Stones. Thrown together and badly organised, The Grateful Dead declined to play in the end because the atmosphere at the festival was turning increasingly ugly as the day wore on.

When The Stones finally went on stage as the headline act, the Hell’s Angels, who had incomprehensibly been drafted in as security were in fact causing most of the trouble. A melee broke out during The Stones’ performance of ‘Under my Thumb’ resulting in the death of 18 year old Meredith Hunter at the hands of one of the Hell’s Angels.

This concert really signified the end of the Sixties, and the idealism of the hippies was stripped away to reveal the ugly side of the counterculture that now existed underneath.

It’s interesting that the perceived carefree legacy of Woodstock, as well as some of its late 60’s fashion has informed the look and feel of subsequent festivals; and still does to this day judging by the flowers in the hair, the face painting and the skimpy fashions at this year’s Glastonbury festival.

Perhaps Woodstock marked the moment that ‘counterculture’ really entered the mainstream and started to become commoditised. It’s no surprise that things have moved on considerably since 1969 and these days there is an explosion of festivals every summer, in the US, the UK and across Europe.

Woodstock wasn’t America’s first festival though. One of the first was the Newport Jazz Festival, that took place in Rhode Island in 1954 in front of 11,000 people, who had flocked to see legends such as Billie Holiday, Oscar Peterson, Ella Fitzgerald and Dizzy Gillespie perform.

And over in the UK, there was The Reading Festival, which is the world's oldest popular music festival still in existence. Starting in 1961 and still going strong today, it has always embraced all genres of new music and therefore stayed relevant to the music fans who attend. Notable bands who have performed there over the decades include Long John Baldry, Georgie Fame, Fleetwood Mac, Deep Purple, Cream, The Jam, The Police, The Cure, Iggy Pop, AC/DC, Blur, Pulp, Guns ‘n’ Roses, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Eminem, Nirvana… and countless more.

Not long afterwards, in 1967, as the Sixties ‘happened’ in America, its youth embraced the ideas of peace, love, counterculture, and escaping from the rigid conventionalism of their parents’ generation. To prove it they embraced the Monterey International Pop Festival, witnessing the famous moment in Jimi Hendrix’s slot where he sets his guitar on fire. It was also where Janis Joplin really arrived on the music scene as a force to be reckoned with and where The Who launched themselves to conquer the US market. This is where ‘The Summer of Love’ officially started.

Meanwhile in the UK, The Doors, Joni Mitchell, Supertramp, Leonard Cohen, Joan Baez, Chicago, Procol Harum and of course Jimi Hendrix and The Who played to over 600,000 people on a small island off the south coast of England. The year was 1968 and The Isle of White Festival was born.

Some of the biggest bands in the world have played Isle of White since the early 2,000’s including The Rolling Stones, David Bowie, Foo Fighters, Bruce Springsteen, Paul McCartney, Pearl Jam, Kasabian, Amy Winehouse, Kings of Leon, Jay-Z, Muse, The Strokes, Coldplay, The Sex Pistols, Fleetwood Mac, The Police and Blondie.

And of course there’s Glastonbury, possibly biggest current festival in the world. It came into being on 19 September 1970. Sadly, Jimi Hendrix never had the opportunity to perform there, as the day before the inaugural event, he died in his London Apartment.

Founded on the ethos of the hippie counterculture, the Glastonbury festival site still has areas called Green Futures, The Wood and Healing Fields and includes dance, crafts, poetry and spirituality alongside its cutting edge music. Nowadays the festival has hundreds of thousands of fans attending each year and it has become huge business, with the event even offering cash point machines, deluxe tent accommodation and high class catering.

The popularity of music festivals spread throughout the world in the 70’s and massive events started to pop up everywhere, from South America to South Africa. The counterculture vibe that started in the 60’s continued to be felt over next two decades as different subgenres of rock were born – from punk to metal and beyond.

The Burning Man Festival, which takes place annually on the bed of an empty lake in Nevada's Black Rock Desert, was founded in 1986 by San Francisco artist Larry Harvey. His idea was to get a small group of people together on the Summer Solstice and burn an 8-foot wooden effigy of a man.

Burning Man is really an experiment in temporary community – something that extends the original hippie ideal and brings it bang up to date. Its counterculture roots also show themselves with its anti-consumerism stance and interest in self-expression. There is a sense of ‘anything goes’ at Burning Man with activities like performance art, using light or fire, nude body painting and the creation of ‘mutant vehicles’ which to mind the action sequences in the original Mad Max movies.

In neighbouring California, The Coachella Festival launched in the 90s, on the back of a concert by Pearl Jam. Like other music festivals, it includes art installations and sculptures, along with Rock, Pop, Hip Hop and Electronic Dance Music. In 1999, 10,000 people came to see Beck, Jurassic 5 and Rage Against the Machine perform. Today the festival has around 75,000 visitors and has featured some landmark moments like Daft Punk’s revolutionary LED-lit pyramid and Tupac’s posthumous performance via hologram.

We should also mention ‘Acid House’ music and the rave culture that spread first across the UK in the late 80’s and then across Europe and back to the US, on the back of the ‘House Music’ scene that came out of Chicago a couple of years earlier. Epitomised by the yellow smiley face graphic, House music encouraged both community and freedom of expression through dance. Alongside the clubbing, blissed-out groups of ravers, fuelled by the drug of the day, Ecstasy began to meet inside large warehouses and at massive outdoor events in fields, to dance through the night, in what became known as The Second Summer of Love.

Today’s music festivals are almost like mini corporations encompassing everything from retail to tourism and fine dining. But they allow us experiences. A study by ticketing agency Eventbrite revealed that Millennials value experience over ownership: 78% would rather pay for an experience than for material goods, compared with 59% of boomers (born 1946–1964).

Festivals may have lost some of their counterculture credentials - but they are still incredibly popular events in the social calendar and as human beings, we all embrace the idea of community and coming together and experiencing things collectively. Particularly when it’s accompanied by great live music.

#woodstock #festival #rocknroll #livemusic #the who #jimi hendrix #the rolling stones #photography #rock photography #ashleyjouhar

13 notes · View notes