#I also like half understand queens blood which is also already haunting me

[dark-elf-writes]

I never learned Fort Condor and it is in fact coming back to haunt me

[echotzzz]

Elain and The mother

This could be a crack theory but regardless i want to share about what i feel about this matter and i’m sorry if it sound really off or unjustifiable. Again this is just a theory and from my own interpretation.

I truly feel that somehow Elain have some sort of connection with the Mother, but not like how Nesta was. We know about the Cauldron where it determines fate from the eddies of its swirling fluid but what about the Mother? Does it truly exist and have her own power or just an idea to the faeries.

So my theory is that what if the Cauldron chose Elain as the representative of the mother. What if she was the one that whispered to Nesta and prevent all of her power taken by the Cauldron.

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer.

I believe the rose will represent Elain’s journey in the next book. But is it coincidence that the rose eventhough hidden in shadows were place beside the mother figurine ? Nesta even feel the need to put the rose in that position.

Is this the foreshadowing sjm used that the shadows would represent Elain’s love life and the mother as the arc for her power?

We don’t know what are the whole scope of power Elain possessed and how powerful she is but the thought that the Cauldron itself BLESSED HER with such gift must have some sort of meaning and reasoning and not just because it found Elain to be lovely. There must be something beyond that.

The voice

If i’m not mistaken, Nesta started to hear this voice after Elain volunteered to search for the dread trove and reacquainted with her power.

For Nesta

The voice was female, gentle. Wise and serene.

The gentle female voice in her head pleaded, Run, run, run.

A soft, familiar voice whispered the words. As they had been whispered to her long ago. As it had warned her in Oorid’s darkness. A lovely, kind female voice, sage and warm, which had been waiting for her all this time.

For Cassian

His stomach twisted. Instinct bellowed at him to wrap himself around her, to comfort and soothe, but another voice, an ancient and wise voice, whispered to keep going. One more mountain, that voice said. Just one more mountain. He trusted that voice. “We’ll camp here tonight.”

After read the description of the voice, i couldn’t help myself to relate it with Elain. Sjm also in this case, purposely gave us a really detailed ass description about the voice.

The voice was described as Female, familiar, gentle, soft, warm, serene (calm), lovely, kind, wise and ancient.

Let’s take a look the way Elain was describe throughout the books

Gentle and sweet

Nesta hadn’t wanted any dealings with the Fae, and Elain was so gentle, so sweet … how could I bring them into this?

Elain, who had been gentle and sweet.

But Elain, the flower-grower, the gentle heart …

Warm

Nesta met her sister’s warm brown eyes.

Serene ( calm)

Elain crossed her arms and said calmly, sadly, “Feyre warned me this might happen.”

“I still wanted to come,” Elain went on with that focused calm, the quiet steel building in her voice. “I wanted to see you, to explain.”

Soft & Lovely

Beautiful—she’d always been the most beautiful of us. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn.

Kind

Something in my chest broke at Elain’s voice from the hall behind her. At the sweetness and youth and kindness, untouched by Prythian, unaware of what I’d done, become—

To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind.

Wise and sage

“It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of deciding how we meet the consequences.” “Wisely said,” Mor offered,

For a moment, I just stared at my sister, the wisdom she’d spoken. Not a whisper of those oracular abilities. Just clear eyes and an open expression.

Ancient

With Cassian the voice was described as ancient and wise. It remind me the time Feyre and Cassian met the bone carver in acowar and he talked about what happened in Hybern

“How lovely she is—new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen, as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter sunrise.”

At first i thought the bone carver talk about Nesta but the word lovely,fawn and sunrise(dawn) really associated with Elain

“I can see so very far now. All the way to the sea.”

Elain stood by the rail, the breeze caressing her hair. “She’s not getting any better. She’s not even trying.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stared toward the distant sea.

Could it made sense that Elain as a seer have knowledge that are as ancient as the sea.

The dread trove

“You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.”

So, since Elain was also made by the Cauldron she will not be influenced by the power of the trove. But it strike me as odd as why does Elain froze as well when Nesta use the Harp to stop time.

Is it so to give opportunity for Elain to use her power to whisper as the voice to Nesta ?

Do you see how it might be? that soft female voice whispered, What you might do?

The voice talked about the vision of Feyre’s death and what Nesta could do to prevent it. Seer abilities??

Even the things that hurt and hunt you? Only curiosity laced the question. [...] That wise, soft voice whispered, So live, Nesta Archeron.

Pain slowly washed over Elain’s face. And understanding. “Is that what this is all about? Father?”

Other than Cassian, Elain is the only person that knew the thing that haunted and hurt Nesta was her father’s death.

The Cauldron

So, Nesta bargained to give back what was stolen in return to save Feyre’s, Nyx’s and Rhys’ lives. But somehow, someone had prevent the Cauldron to take all of the power

“But a little remains. I think something else—someone else—stopped the Cauldron from taking all of it. And I made some changes of my own.”

This person literally stopped the Cauldron. The Cauldron have every intention to take it all back but stopped because of this someone.

Remember when the Cauldron came for Nesta in Acowar but retrieved as it saw how important Nesta is to Elain and it also purr in her presence as if Elain has a certain influence towards the Cauldron.

What if Elain persuade the Cauldron to not take all of Nesta’s power. Maybe from her seer abilities, she saw that it is vital for Nesta to have some of her power for the upcoming war?

Invisible hand

And a soft, invisible hand brushed her cheek in answer.

The sun was a warm hand on her shoulder, like the one that had prevented the last of her power from vanishing, as if telling her that the apology, the begging for forgiveness … it was no longer needed.

Nesta described the hand as warm coming from the sun. Is it coincidence that Elain also often describe as sunlight🤔

Yes, they’d have to figure out what to do with the entire Dread Trove now that they possessed all three objects. How Nesta had summoned it despite the spells Helion had placed on the other two … He’d think of that another day. Along with the fact that she’d stopped Time with the Harp. And that she seemed to have some sort of connection—or understanding—with the Mother. The Mother.

Notice that Cassian mention all of this to be done in the future. Since Nessian will not be the MC in the next book, it is obvious the next book’s MC will be the one that handle it.

they’d have to figure out what to do with the entire Dread Trove now that they possessed all three objects

The 4th dread trove object is still a mystery and only the one that was Cauldron made can find it and who is the remaining Cauldron made? Elain. It’s obvious enough that the DT will still play a major role in the next book

How Nesta had summoned it despite the spells Helion had placed on the other two

“In the end, Helion created the wards and keyed them to Nesta’s blood.”

“Once we leave this room, no one shall be able to enter it. Even you, if you do not unlock my wards, cannot enter.”

We have no idea how Nesta could actually summoned the objects despite Helion’s spell. And only Rhys and Helion the one who know how to unlock the spell.

I don’t want to be too reaching but what if Elain was the one that unlock it. Nesta’s blood run through Elain’s vein and maybe her seer abilities that provide knowledge as ancient as the sea could be the reason she knew to unlock the spell. ( again this is just my interpretation)

In conclusion

Is it coincidence that Nesta connection with the mother will still be a topic in the next book and at the same time there are foreshadowing mention the wooden rose was put beside the mother figurine?

Is it coincidence that Sjm never mention about whether Elain do reacquainted back with her power? Amren whom really eager for Elain to start finding the trove could have train Elain herself especially when she frequently mentioned how Elain should not be underestimated.

Is it coincidence that Elain is mentioned to even beat Azriel in secrecy that Cassian sometimes suspected Elain early dismissal was not to tend some elderly fae garden but what if she’s on the roll to train for her power. When sjm mention ‘secret’ it was not only to reflect the forbidden love but also Elain true power.

Is it coincidence that we only knew the surface of the seer abilities and somehow sjm haven’t elaborate it much further. As an Elain stan, i admitted that i actually know little of her as sjm never provide Elain with her own pov. Its like if we enter Elain’s head, there will be a major spoiler considering she will be the next MC.

If this theory turn out to be true, do you think that the Cauldron use Elain as his messenger or a puppet by giving her vision and image? Remember when the IC were lost and suddenly Elain were given image about Vassa. When Elain could search for the Suriel with only one try.

Why was Elain captured by the Cauldron when it clearly mentioned that the Cauldron will never harm her. It was as if in order for something to happen, Elain must be captured. What was the outcome:

Trigger Feyre to fly where she only have been training for a short time.

A human girl name Briar were saved. Will she be important in the series as her character were given a name?

To alert that Tamlin was in fact on the good side

When Elain was captured, she was lured by the image of Greysen offering her safety and protection but who was the one that rescued her?Azriel. Like she was expecting Greysen to come but instead it was Azriel. Was the Cauldron use this to show Elain who will matter to her the most?

“Nothing is a fluke. The Cauldron’s power flows through Nesta, and could use her as a puppet without her knowledge. It wanted those weapons Made, and thus they were Made.

And do not forget that Nesta herself—and Elain, with whatever powers she has—is here. Feyre is here. All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH59

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 59: Purgatory Reunion (XI)

Burst brains mixed with dirty blood and flowed across the floor, filling the air with the disgusting scent of blood.

Ning Zhou was standing in the pool of blood, his dull expression unchanging.

He hadn’t actually done anything. What he did was to tear Mrs Kathleen’s enchantment with the Sword of Judgment, and then stand in the same place and shock this group of lower demons with his influence. However, under the oppressive feeling of terror, the demonic power in this group of lower demons became disordered, and the lower demons who couldn't control their demonic power had their heads blow up one after another like inflated balloons.

Bodies with destroyed heads fell to the ground, and blood was still streaming from the incomplete skulls. The brains and blood splashed everywhere on the ground, on the walls, and on the sofa, making this originally neat reception room like a slaughterhouse.

Mrs Kathleen was still kneeling on the ground, shivering and afraid to look up at all. Now she only hoped to save her life.

This bloody scene shocked Qi Leren.

Although he had confidence before and he felt that Ning Zhou should be able to handle this barrier, he had not expected...

Standing in the pool of blood, Ning Zhou was like a Devil King who had just come into this world. His eyes emptily looked ahead, but his sight seemed to have penetrated the wall and looked toward an unknown place. He never said a word, and remained as silent as ever. This bloody silence left a trace of gloom on his handsome face, which also made Qi Leren keenly capture his emotion—Ning Zhou was not happy.

Even his heart was in pain.

This kind of power was a kind of torture for him.

Even if he was delivering justice with the evil power, he was not happy. Because this kind of power perpetually lured him into the abyss of sin.

"Let's go and hand her over to the people from the Courthouse," Qi Leren whispered, stepping forward and touching Ning Zhou’s arm.

Ning Zhou recovered from his long silence and nodded his head.

Their entire journey back was silent. Qi Leren contacted Celia, the Trial Court’s contact person in Ant City. Celia brought people to take away Mrs Kathleen and her companions, and asked about the informant who had come to investigate before. Fortunately, this informant was still alive, but he was locked in a private prison and had suffered a lot of injustices.

The gambler who had claimed to have seen the Illusionist was dead, and died because of his high gambling debts. As Qi Leren and Ning Zhou had seen in this underground casino, it was even worse than that. All the useful parts of his body were removed, and even the blood was drained clean.

So for the time being, they couldn't figure out why the Illusionist had come here.

After returning to the Court’s stronghold in the Underground Ant City, Qi Leren talked with the contact Celia about the current situation, intending to take Ning Zhou back to the Village of Dusk after confirming the Illusionist’s safety.

Under the working conditions, the contact Celia was a very capable woman, who worked in perfect order and could handle the subsequent troubles of this underground casino despite having a shortage in manpower. Although she was obviously curious about the relationship between Qi Leren and Ning Zhou, she didn't ask a word about the things she shouldn't ask, and turned a blind eye to the two people holding hands all the time.

"This underground casino is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the Underground Ant City’s filth. Gambling, prostitution, and drugs in the lower city form a huge interest chain, and there are some higher demons standing behind them. For them, the humans and lower demons here are just slaves without brands." Celia frowned in disgust. "This Dragon Ant Queen is too careless in managing this place."

"What are these people thinking when they’re gambling?" Qi Leren couldn't understand it at all.

"They’re dominated by greedy desires and... greedy witches." Celia said, "As far as I know, the behind-the-scenes owners of most underground casinos here are Witches of Greed, just as the owners of brothels are mostly Witches of Lust, and this is also the arena where they compete for power."

Qi Leren seems to understand, but his understanding of "forces" had not jumped out of the concept that ordinary human beings could grasp. Even though he had broken his shell and even touched a higher level, he had not condensed a half-field after all, and he still had little knowledge of his "rebirth" force. When things here were over, he would have to ask Chen Baiqi and the Prophet when he returned to the Village of Dusk.

Celia added, "The letter of request has been sent, but I'm afraid it will be another week until the Court replies."

"All right, let's wait another week." Qi Leren thought about the Illusionist’s safety and decided to stay for one more week. Anyway, now that Ning Zhou had been found, he wasn’t in a hurry.

It was settled. Celia skillfully commanded the staff to interrogate Mrs Kathleen. Sitting on the sofa, Qi Leren suddenly thought of something: "Remember to ask her where the subordinate who came to the Underground Ant City with her is now."

Qi Leren had a subtle intuition that he couldn’t speak of; it was always right to be vigilant.

Celia looked through Mrs Kathleen's information. "Okay, I'll have this added to the interrogation. Take a rest first. I’ve prepared the room for you."

The room was a private suite with two bedrooms separated by a wall. The shared living room also had a beautiful small terrace where you can see the Underground Ant City’s underground river. Judging from the arrangement of the room, the Ant City’s contact person was a very careful and cautious person, and has a smooth integrity.

Qi Leren's spirit had been overloaded recently, but the compulsory monthly task had been put off until it couldn't be put off any longer. So after dinner, he greeted Ning Zhou and went to do this month's compulsory task—for a person who has already glimpsed his original force, the compulsory task of a novice was really too simple to mention.

It was only ten o'clock in the evening after completing this month's compulsory task. Qi Leren, who was exhausted physically and mentally, thought he could have a good night's sleep. However, he was haunted by nightmares, and various death scenes appeared in his dreams over and over again, forcing him to relive the tragic deaths again and again. After experiencing the Star Death Reality Show copy, he had experienced some new ways of dying. The horrible laser net was really a psychological shadow, and finally there was the fall into the deep glacier when he had fought Leviathan, which worsened how horrifying his nightmares were.

Amidst the weightlessness of the fall and the severe pain of his nerves, Qi Leren suddenly sat up from the bed and gasped. When he came to, his back was soaked with cold sweat, and his temples were still throbbing with the same frequency as his heartbeat, bringing a spasm of pain each time.

Qi Leren took the water cup at the head of the bed and drank half a cup of cold water, which made him calm down from his extreme panic.

It's no use. I'm going to lose sleep again.

Qi Leren took out the sleeping pills he had brought with him, but the pills stopped before they reached his mouth.

It wasn’t a good thing to sleep by taking medicine, so he shouldn't do it unless he had to. Qi Leren swallowed the temptation of taking medicine and getting a good night's sleep, got out of bed in exhaustion, and prepared to go to the balcony to smoke, relieve his mood, and slowly adjust himself to sleep.

Opening the bedroom door, ahead of him was the living room with no lights on, and beyond the living room was the open terrace. There was a figure standing behind the curtains blown by the night wind, standing on the terrace with his back to him.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, Ning Zhou looked back and met Qi Leren's eyes.

Both of them didn't speak. In this gentle evening breeze, the unexpected encounter in the middle of the night was as beautiful as an otherworldly dream.

Qi Leren trotted over and stood beside Ning Zhou, watching the underground river in the distance. There were several boats with lights floating on the river’s calm waves, and the surrounding streets were lit with streetlights. Sparse pedestrians walked along them, humans and demons alike. They walked silently on their own roads and were indifferent to everything around them.

But Qi Leren cared. He thought of the silent man beside him, and he could feel his inner unrest.

"Let’s talk," Qi Leren said to him.

"Talk about what?" Ning Zhou asked him.

"Anything will do." After Qi Leren finished saying this, he felt that he had not fulfilled his responsibility to guide the conversation, and started a temporary topic. "After I was resurrected, I saw your mother, Ms. Maria."

Seeing Ning Zhou's eyes focus, Qi Leren considered his words and said: "Later, I happened to learn some things about her and the Devil of Destruction... Speaking of which, had she never mentioned it to you before?"

Ning Zhou shook his head: "She chose to send me to Neverland, so that I wouldn’t find out."

Perhaps the Holy Nun had already foreseen such a cruel possibility, that one day she and the Destroyer’s child would follow the same path as his father, so she cut off this path from the beginning and guided him to condense a half-field that would incompatible with his original force by way of the Holy See. If there hadn’t been the accident of meeting Qi Leren, Ning Zhou would have walked on the clouds all his life, and he would have fought with demons and finished his life with inner peace and contentment.

"She didn't really hate him," Ning Zhou said.

Qi Leren could vaguely feel it.

"She said that he was a lost man." Ning Zhou watched the distant lights, which were reflected in his eyes. The ethereal flickering lights became spirited in his beautiful eyes. The light generated from pain and despair lit up his soul.

Qi Leren was almost stunned. He suddenly wanted to kiss his beautiful blue eyes.

"Maybe one day, I will become lost like him, and step by step go down the path of destruction. If that day comes... it will be enough for me alone to be in Hell," Ning Zhou said quietly. At this moment, he suddenly felt something called "fate", which was once cruel, and would only become even crueler.

Qi Leren, who was in a daze, asked him, "What about me?"

Ning Zhou looked at him and whispered, "I hope you can always stand in the sun."

Qi Leren's throat tightened, and the lights in front of him suddenly blurred. Always, this person always tried every means to protect him and the world. He was too gentle and kind. The world treated him so cruelly, but he didn't know what resentment was and didn't want to lash out. Even if one day he fell into Hell, he didn't want to take anyone with him, even the one he loved.

He would rather bear the pain and loneliness alone, and go to ruin silently.

"Then I’ll tell you, I don't want to," Qi Leren choked up and said.

As Ning Zhou was stunned, Qi Leren hugged him.

"You listen up: I don't care if you are a human being or a demon, or if your force is destruction or something else. I don't care if I stand in the sun. Only you, Ning Zhou, only you are something I must not lose, do you understand?"

Ning Zhou didn't answer. He hesitated, wrapped his arms around Qi Leren gently and carefully, and felt the people in his arms embrace him harder, so he hugged him too.

It was like holding the only salvation in the world.

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[antiloreolympus]

13 Anti LO Asks

1. ok but thats seriously what bugs me so much about LO, it never actually lets serious moments be serious, it's always lampooned by rachel's insistent need to force in her juvenile "humor" and never actually depicting how pressing things are. even the following moments from persephone's r//pe was undercut by hades making stupid puns! i understand if rachel cant write something more serious than "[x] is bad" but if thats so, then dont try it? because thats how you end up with this pretentious mess.

2. since when did lo hades have earrings??? i legit do not remember this ever being a thing??? is he trying to be hip with the kids 😭my man you still look like a crusty old man the earrings arent helping 😭

3. lo hermes looks and acts like flaky from happy tree friends and no thats not a compliment (TW for gore, blood, and violence if any of you google it)

4. Even though the earlier art style was better there are still some cursed panels from the earlier pages that still haunt me. Especially the way Persephone was drawn differently in so many of the panels.

5. lo hades has such "how do you do fellow kids" energy and im not sure why

6. im also confused on the fertility goddess stuff because how stupid is persephone if she didnt notice? she can create life and nature without even thinking and shes implied to be a genius in biology, so how would she not even notice this? if RS really wants to go with this plot, then why have her professor bring it up in class? why not show persephone going to her uni's library to research the topic and pouring over it? that's an easy way to show persephone's intelligence, yet LO doesnt even try.

7. What I wanna know in LO was how Demeter and Hestia were compensated after the war. The three brothers got to be kings and Hera is queen, but what we know of Demeter is that she had a millionaire dollar business that’s probably made it on its own (unless she was helped out) and then Hestia all we really know about her is that she runs that TOGEM and idk if there’s only 4 of them, Hestia really had a group by herself for a bit since Athena is Zeus’ (assumed) daughter, Artemis (Zeus’ assumed daughter) and persphone (newest member) which seems shitty since they won a war together

8. I think what happened with LO’s art style was RS got “lazy” (I’m lacking the right word). I feel like without the colors all of the men in LO have the same body type, and Hermès and Apollo may even have the same face if they smile the same. So to compensate for that lack of body diversity, RS doubled down on Hades’ features to make him stand out more to really show he’s the male lead. However, even in her own words he looks like Persphones’ “dusty ass dad”

The women use to be a little different but they’re all starting to blend with body types. Her was small, but now she’s short and busty like Persphone. RS makes Persphone look short and busty all the time but almost childlike. Minthe was skinny but her last moments she was busy. Aphrodite I feel was just busty but then tried to make her look small also with Ares and Hades beside her. Hestia stayed the same but is still small and busty. Athena was tall and thin (?) but now she’s tall but busty (and her relationship with Hestia looks like it mirrors HXP). Idk I just feel like the longer screen time the female characters get the more they start mirroring Persphone’s look. Like even Artemis was getting empathized on being small next to her brother Apollo. Like all the girls gotta look small but curvy as the story goes on. 

9. Demeter: watched her friend get ripped in half. Watched her friend get continually cheated on, paying the price for not hiding a mistress , watched metis get eaten, her back clawed, fought in a war. Later made a daughter who’s a fertility goddess (probably an accident) and now has to raise her. That same daughter then went on a rampage and isn’t really remorseful

Fans: Demeter is such an overbearing mother who gets in the way of our ship.

10. on regards to ace characters, asexuality is a spectrum like everything else, so a lot of asexuals actually do enjoy and have sex, so the maidens doing so isnt inherently a problem, its the fact rachel is clearly viewing it through a strict binary where she assumes asexuality is something that can be "fixed" over time/when the right person comes along. its also a bad modern reading of it, as "virginity" in an ancient sense meant via marriage, not via sex, but I doubt rachel cares to factcheck it.

11. Imagine an elf is given a job to do at a human institution. The humans think elves don’t need bathroom breaks, since they know they can hold it for days, but this elf has been traveling to reach their job, and has already been holding it to the point they are in pain. They ask for a break, but their job is important and time sensitive, so they admit they can still hold it when asked. After a full day of work, the elf tries to reach the bathroom in time, but they were never told where it is.

From OP: I think this might be a nymph allegory? Anon never specified so I'll put this here anyway.

12. ya know if hades has to lie to make apollo seem worse (who does not need much in this comic) its like??? why is he persephone's lawyer then?? lawyers are literally told not to lie, this is basic law 101. thats why they dont want their clients to mention to them if they actually did the crimes because then the lawyers have to say it in court. if hades lies so casually just to keep persephone away from justified punishment, then thats bad actually!  both in being a decent person and as a lawyer!

From OP: Hades didn’t lie but he was definitely out of line. RS liked a tweet saying that the wife thing was “subconscious” so it probably was. (Still doesn’t make it right but I doubt he’d say those things on the stand.)

13. I know Minthe was written in a way she was suppose to be unlikesable, she’s rude, she yells and she doesn’t hesistate. HOWEVER RS wrote her character badly. Minthe is so unliked? How was she able to be a bad gf to hades and Thanatos? Like yes it’s an affair but how was she able to pull 2 gods?! We don’t hear Hades or Thanatos say what they like about her BUT they both still had a fling with her. (Honestly I feel it’s cause RS can’t bare writing one nice thing about the female anatangoist without trying to make Persphone look good)

The other thing bothering me was everyone knew about her relationship with Hades after she put it on fatesbook, but everyone talked about the kiss in such a positive light IN FRONT OF HER. Aren’t they suppose to be scared of her? Why did the girls in the yoga class/dress shop had so much to say about that kiss? Because they knew persphone? Did they know every other detail too? What was their actual beef with Minthe?

I feel like realistically some more characters would have sympathy for Minthe if they didn’t know her that well because of Hera. Everyone knows Hera is a pill to deal with and she’s the goddess of marriage who hasn’t really tried bringing Minthe and Hades to the alter. That right there should let everyone know that Hera probably doesn’t help the situation.

Idk, I feel like RS could have gone deeper and made the character not such HXP shippers cause most people wouldn’t cheer for cheating nor an old ass guy getting with a 19 year old. (Idk how fast the news of the slap spread, but I doubt it made it to every place in their fictional world)

[wolfsneedles]

perhaps a small meta like thing i wanted to write and share on robb. I was thinking about that very haunting and pivotal moment in ASOS, when rickard karstark a loyal man of robb and starks killed the two prisoner/wards kids from lannister family when he realised catelyn released jaime. Catelyn releasing him is different and a very realistically emotional thing but robb acting and defending his mother when rickard says It was Lady Catelyn who was responsible for murder of the two kids....he just slaughtered in sleep and dark of their cells (reeks of bit sexism and misogyny tbh). Not realising however that jaime wasn't gonna get killed anyways that to by rickard or Robb was never gonna let them hurt him. basically so if karstark was avenging his sons...who died in battle with Robb, it is understandable but this was rickard's individualistic revenge - he was fighting for robb too. For North and for Starks and for his KING. i never understood how he killed two children but thats not the concern really. It is how robb reacts to murder of two children by karstark which is so foolish and stupid and honestly cruel considering his revenge was not gonna succeed anyways when jaime had...already escaped (and no omg cat wasn't responsible for karstark betrayal). And then Robb says, "

"I owe their fathers truth," said Robb. "And justice. I owe them that as well." He gazed at his crown, the dark gleam of bronze, the circle of iron swords. "Lord Rickard defied me. Betrayed me. I have no choice but to condemn him.

He made up his mind anyways to execute karstark not for betrayal but also for justice. Poetic Justice maybe...but the entire scene of rickard karstarks execution is very hauntingly beautiful however uneasy and eerie, and you see robb from Cats POV doing something from his own hands himself. The imagery and environmental gloom is perfect. Even weather grrm wrote like, was hauntingly unsettling.

Lord Rickard's fought at my side in half a dozen battles. His sons died for me in the Whispering Wood. Tion Frey and Willem Lannister were my enemies. Yet now I have to kill my dead friends' father for their sakes." He looked at them all. "Will the Lannisters thank me for Lord Rickard's head? Will the Freys?"

He obviously knew, the death of karstark's liege lord will earn him worse betrayals and series of more unfortunate events,, yet he still in despair asks brynden and others, that freys and lannisters will obviously not thank him for this. Infact they repaid him worse.

How then can you call this vengeance? This was folly, and bloody murder. Your sons died honorably on a battlefield, with swords in their hands.”

I wanted to describe the scene which is so poetic. But the fact that there is constant thunder and rain can highlight the fact that it was or can be synonymous to misery and death and...robbs ultimate betrayal when karstarks leave in the night same day. Catelyn described the weather outside as,

"Outside the thunder crashed and boomed, so loud it sounded as if the castle were coming down about their ears. Is this the sound of a kingdom falling? Catelyn wondered"

In the next sentence u see, robb more mature and dauntless when he decides he will execute rickard, "Robb reached down with both hands, lifted the heavy bronze-and-iron crown, and set it back atop his head, and suddenly he was a king again. “Lord Rickard dies.”

(also makes me mention how ppl criticise dany too mostly from the got show, but in books why she kills people, i think....if u put yourself in those historical framework and mentality of medieval society with loyalties and devotion tied to each other whether based on federalism or personal love, betrayal and treachery or going behind a king or queens back doesn't...go unpunished. Treason never goes unpunished when we also think of jon snow executing janos and robb with karstark. You have to realise emotions of both people. the one who carries sentence and one who dies.)

Back to the scenic description i found in this chapter. Catelyn again talks about weather and i absolutely loved contrast bw the weather and grimness of it and an execution soon to be carried in godswood,

"When day broke, grey and chilly, the storm had diminished to a steady, soaking rain, yet even so the godswood was crowded. River lords and northmen, highborn and low, knights and sellswords and stableboys, they stood amongst the trees to see the end of the night’s dark dance."

"Robb flung the poleaxe down in disgust, and turned wordless to the heart tree. He stood shaking with his hands half-clenched and the rain running down his cheeks. Gods forgive him, Catelyn prayed in silence. He is only a boy, and he had no other choice"

I think the rain is perfect thing. the way it is pouring down and then previously it was mentioned how remaining men who took part in killing young boys of lannisters with karstark were hung from trees ...but their faces were darkened and washed and grrm mentions this a lot everytime he mentions a depressing scene with death and ppl hanging from trees esp when lady stoneheart or brothers without banners or brienne and pod encounter people hanged. Its also sooo haunting how karstark was executed in front of heart tree and godswood...by hands of Robb as well (similar to what ned said that man who passes sentence will swing the sword so he knows what he feels too and robb did it last moment too)

" That was the last she saw of her son that day "

This line by catelyn also describes horror of war and how young people like robb in this case are dragged into the lords game of thrones, sometimes half-heartedly sometimes intentionally she describes how war is affecting her son who is after all a boy.

".....rain continued all through the morning, lashing the surface of the rivers and turning the godswood grass into mud and puddles"

This weather is same as it was described and was on the day or eve of when Catelyn and robb along with edmure were making for the Twins and and something more horrific which was about to unfold there as well ( red wedding ) and on their way to twins the rain is mercilessly beating and falling too.

Last i wanna mention is day when robb and his men with Catelyn made for the Twins for wedding and weather was same miserable since last time it was when karstark was executed...which I was thinking DOES point to robbs failure and demise in the end as weather has a lot of impact on story and so does the ice and fire contrast that has always been made where winters and cold winds welcome the coming of darkness and enemy force in this case the Others, and fire reflects passion, warmth and hope for me in passages. prob why i love mention of dany and her dragons because they do represent an entirely different aura and hope against the dread that is building on the Wall and beyond it for coming of the actual-evil-forces the Others.

This is how perfectly the differences bw robbs victory in Whispering wood taken as sign of pride and hope is mentioned with --> emphasis on how warm the weather was, and now their travel to the Twins for red wedding as --> rain, mud, puddle, banks overflowing, their stark banners flooded and hanging down (another excellent indication for how house stark did have their back and strength broken after the wedding hence banner hanging low, or when arya later travels to twins and sees the banners on fire due to the massacre taking place...)

"..As the gods would have it, their route took them through the Whispering Wood where Robb had won his first great victory. They followed the course of the twisting stream on the floor of that pinched narrow valley, much as Jaime Lannister’s men had done that fateful night. It was warmer then, Catelyn remembered, the trees were still green, and the stream did not overflow its banks. Fallen leaves choked the flow now and lay in sodden snarls among the rocks and roots, and the trees that had once hidden Robb’s army had exchanged their green raiment for leaves of dull gold spotted with brown, and a red that reminded her of rust and dry blood"

[blossom-hwa]

Danger: Obsidian |1| - JUYEON

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, fantasy, royalty!au

Triggers: death, semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 5.1k

Lesson 4: sometimes, it is not your duty or even your right to render judgment. Stepping back does not always constitute cowardice.

Previous: Amethyst >> Obsidian: Part 1 | Part 2 >> Next: Ruby

TBZ Masterlist | Danger | Kingdom

Tag list [ dm or send an ask to be added! ]: will be reblogged so this shows up in the tags (links will also be added later)

Juyeon would dearly love to know just how these soldiers and mages keep tracking him and Kevin down.

Seriously. They’ve covered their tracks as best as they can, leaving not a single footprint behind (literal and metaphorical) wherever they don’t have to. Yet somehow, in every other town they end up, either some ivory soldier manages to find them, or they spot someone suspicious looking around who turns out to be on Somin’s side.

At this point, Juyeon doesn’t even care about finding more jewels. All he can focus on is this game of cat and mouse with Somin, where the queen knows how to find them while they have no way of fighting back.

Not very fair odds, but since when has Somin played fair?

(“Never,” Kevin reminds him that terrifying time they were crouched together beneath a trash heap (yes, beneath – not even behind, like in Ember) and Juyeon hissed out the question in a futile attempt at keeping himself together. “Not even when we were kids.”

He remembers all too well.)

In a way, Juyeon has to thank her, though. In the past few months, he probably hasn’t gotten more than an average of three hours of sleep a night (Kevin even less). It might be turning his body into a useless lump of flesh and bones, but at least he doesn’t have the nightmares.

(The nightmares in which Sunwoo stares at him with betrayed eyes and a bloody smile slit into his throat while Mage Han tells him he will never be fit to be king.

On those nights, Juyeon almost wishes for the dream of jeweled roses and mysterious figures to take the nightmare’s place. Then he remembers silver bushes and shades that look too much like Sunwoo to be a coincidence and erases that wish immediately.)

It’s raining tonight. Though Juyeon normally wouldn’t enjoy rain while he’s forced to stay outdoors, if it’s slowing him and Kevin down, it means any pursuants have been hindered, too. He and Kevin throw themselves under a large tree at the edge of a forest, the foliage blocking most of the downpour as they try not to feel so damn cold.

No sleep, Juyeon tells himself, despite his eyelids beginning to drag down. No sleep. No sleep. He needs to say alert in case the guards somehow find them through the dripping rain.

Even then, he almost drifts off, the relentless pounding of water on the forest floor soothing his brain into slumber. Thankfully, Kevin jerks him awake when the downpour slows, pointing up the tree they’re sheltered under. “Let’s go, Juyeon.”

They climb up the tree – Kevin nearly falls twice, Juyeon once – and settle themselves among the large branches. Between the dark and the dense leaves, it’ll be hard for anyone to see them. And even if they do, being up high has more of an advantage than being on the ground.

(Unless you happen to be a certain clumsy Onyx prince who trips over his own feet when he isn’t looking, but whatever)

Minutes, then hours pass in darkness. Juyeon feels his eyes beginning to droop once more.

Then Kevin starts.

In a flash, Juyeon’s wide awake, turning to his friend. His eyes, barely visible in the night, raise the question he can’t speak.

Kevin shrugs. “Heard something,” he whispers, barely audible over the pattering rain. “Probably nothing.”

It might be nothing, but Juyeon peers through the leaves anyway. “Probably nothing” was a mistake they made one too many times when they started out after finding the amethyst. Before then, they had Sunwoo to keep them cautious and in check.

Sunwoo.

Juyeon’s throat chokes. Weeks have dulled the pain, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still exist. He swallows down the lump, though, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

Caution can’t take a backseat to emotion, after all.

After one, two, three moments of silence, Juyeon’s about to relax, about to return to his original position on the tree branch and brush it off as nothing.

Then he hears it, something padding on the damp earth.

Kevin looks down too, back tense. Juyeon risks a glance at his friend. “Be ready to run,” he murmurs, barely moving his lips. A terse nod follows.

A figure, relatively tall and somewhat familiar, slips through the trees. Juyeon frowns. Familiarity rarely bodes well – it usually signals a mage who’s gotten too close one too many times – but this…

Kevin lets out an audible gasp. Before Juyeon can stop him, he’s throwing himself down the tree with none of his usual grace and tackling the figure to the ground.

Castling queens. Juyeon curses under his breath as he begins climbing down the tree. “Kevin –”

Then the figure stands, Kevin helping him up with a blinding, teary smile on his face.

Juyeon almost loses his grip on the tree.

“Jacob,” he whispers. “Pawns and – Jacob.”

The mage grins shakily, his signature gentle smile spread over his face. “Hi.”

. . . . .

With the exception of the day he was broken out of the ivory palace, Jacob has never felt so relieved to see a familiar face – two, actually. Wrapped in his cousin’s arms, he almost breaks down right then and there. The tears start to fall the second Juyeon puts a hand on his shoulder.

It’s hard to tell between the rain and the dark, but Juyeon and Kevin seem to be crying too. They all stand together for a few minutes in silence, at least, not saying anything as rain drips around them.

“How did you find us?” Kevin finally asks. “Sunmi said something about how you could track me, but you were so far away…”

“Yes.” Jacob wipes away the last of the warm tears on his face. “I couldn’t sense you at first, obviously. Even having spent so much time with you, your magic trace isn’t nearly strong enough for that. When the Valkyries came, they told me you were starting off in Castia, so I shifted there first.”

“The Valkyries?” Juyeon’s tone turns apprehensive. “Do you know if any of them escaped?”

His heart stings. It really stings as Jacob lowers his head, closing his eyes against the memories washing through his mind of a single Valkyrie, a single knight, the knight he loved who sent him away.

“No,” he whispers. “I don’t know. They… they told me to leave.”

And he left. It was his duty, his responsibility.

None of that means he had to like it, though.

Kevin holds his hand, squeezes it. The slight pressure of his palm comforts Jacob, a spot of warmth amidst the cold rain.

“I’m sorry,” Juyeon murmurs. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s not your fault.” Jacob tries to smile. “I would be curious too. Anyway, when I got to Castia, you were already gone, so I tracked the traces of your magic that you left behind. And followed the rumors.”

Juyeon groans. “Rumors?”

“Come on, Juyeon.” Kevin nudges him. “After we tore a jewel right off the queen’s neck, you thought there wouldn’t be any gossip about that? Nothing at all?”

Jacob frowns. That doesn’t add up. “You tore a jewel off her neck? I thought it was someone else.”

Uncomfortable silence falls over the trio. Jacob swallows. Sensitive topic. “Sorry –”

“No, it’s fine.” Juyeon swallows hard, like he’s unsticking something from the back of his throat. “I… we had someone with us. His name was Sunwoo. He’s dead now. One of the mages following us killed him.” His fists clench visibly even in the dark. “And then I killed the mage.”

Jacob blinks. His Highness, the kind, gentle, clumsy Crown Prince Lee Juyeon, killed someone? Killed a mage? He almost doesn’t believe it, but the haunted look on Juyeon’s face and Kevin’s downcast eyes tell him the truth.

Forget what he said before about familiar faces. Juyeon and Kevin look the same, have the same lips and noses and bone structures as before. But the memories that haunt their eyes speak of different people, people who have changed in the few months since he last saw them.

Juyeon looks over at Jacob, barely meeting his gaze. It takes him a second to understand why, but the fear visible in Juyeon’s eyes speaks volumes.

He must be afraid Jacob will judge him for it.

A little part of Jacob wants to reel and crumble with Juyeon’s admission. Even as a mage, he’s never hurt anyone on purpose, much less killed someone. But a larger part, a much larger part that has seen and lived through a mere fraction of the Ivory Queen’s horrors, understands her control and the situations she’s created that sometimes force decisions.

Like when he had to leave his Valkyrie behind.

Jacob takes one of Juyeon’s limp, cold hands and holds it between his own. “Ivory mages can’t be trusted,” he says.

The prince’s head rises.

Still squeezing Juyeon’s hand, Jacob nods once, memories flooding his brain of the last minutes he spent in the ivory palace. “Mage Kang was the one who led me out of the dungeon,” he says.

Kevin gasps. “Kang, too?”

“Yes.” Jacob nods, bitterness twisting his lips. “And there was at least one more in the room before I escaped. I don’t know what kind of hold the Ivory Queen has over them, but if it’s strong enough for them to betray the board, then I can’t fault you for killing one of them. No one can. Especially if they forced your hand.”

Silence, save for the slowing patter of raindrops on the grass. Jacob doesn’t care that water is sliding down his face, freezing his skin. The warmth of company, even with these stark confessions, is more than enough to make up for it.

“So what rumors did you hear?” Kevin finally asks, a half-smile quirking his lips that Jacob returns. “Must’ve been some crazy ones, if you were able to follow them all the way here.”

A small laugh leaves Jacob’s lips. “I heard one that you were part of a band of jewel robbers called the Phantom Thieves,” he says, which makes both Juyeon and his cousin snort. “I didn’t have enough underground contacts to get the full picture, but once I found a trail of your magic and followed you to Ember, I heard about scuffles in the forest and was able to trace you here. You move fast.” He smiles, ruffling the red cloak on his back ruefully. “I might’ve caught up sooner if I wasn’t stuck charming this.”

“Why?” Kevin frowns.

“If a mage knew me well enough, which several of them did because I trained with them, they could trace me through my magic if I didn’t try to mask it.” Jacob looks at the prince, whose face is now covered in a stricken expression. “What?”

Juyeon swallows. “Could a mage track us through the jewels from the crown? From magic traces or something?”

Next to him, Kevin gasps. “By the higher orders… that’s how they traced us,” he whispers. “Pawns and kings.”

“You’re probably right.” Jacob holds out a hand. “Let me see them?”

Juyeon produces two gems from his pocket, one blue and one purple. Beneath the faint moonlight beginning to peek out from the clouds, they glitter in the dark.

A soft gasp rises in Jacob’s throat as he takes them, but he keeps it down. The sapphire is set into a necklace, while heavy board surrounds the amethyst. He frowns. “Why are they so…”

“Somin set the sapphire into a necklace, and I cut the amethyst out the back of a painting,” Kevin supplies. He cringes. “Tell you later. We couldn’t detach them, I think they’re bound by magic.”

The jewels hum with energy in his hands. Definitely magic. “I’ll see if I can free them,” Jacob promises. “And the traces are faint, but…” His eyes narrow as he focuses on the amethyst. “A trained mage will recognize even the weakest bits of their own magic. With the skill of the mages who must have torn the jewels from the crown, it wouldn’t have been hard.”

Juyeon nods, outstretching a hand to take the gems back, but Jacob stays fixated on the amethyst. Something about the faint trace feels familiar, awfully familiar.

He closes his eyes, focused on the slight hum emanating from the purple gem.

Oh.

Okay.

“Mage Jung,” he whispers, opening his eyes again. “I recognize this trace. High Mage Jung tore it from the crown.”

Juyeon’s face turns white. “Are you… are you sure.”

Jacob sends a searching glance at his cousin, asking a question with his eyes. Why does Mage Jung’s name trigger the prince so much? Surely it isn’t just the betrayal – it isn’t like he and the mage were extremely close or anything.

Kevin’s eyebrows knit in grief and fury. “He killed Changmin,” he states coldly.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Jacob knew the young gray mage was dead, heard it when he was in the dungeons under the Ivory palace. But to hear that one of the highest mages in the land killed him, one of the most powerful protectors of the balance…

He sits down. His legs definitely don’t have the strength to keep holding him up. “Queens.” He looks at Juyeon, praying he won’t get the confirmation he doesn’t want to receive. “How do you know?”

“A dream,” Juyeon replies shortly. “The same dream that took me on this jewel chase.”

Dreams can be unreliable, Jacob wants to say. Not a single piece of his body wants to believe what his cousin and the prince are saying. But neither of them is known to lie, and if Juyeon was so affected by this dream that he left his kingdom to pursue its message, then it must be true.

“Tell me about the dream?”

Juyeon tells it all, tells of jewel-toned roses and silver leaves and a dead gray mage who passed on his insignia. It sounds unbelievable, even more so than some of the legends Jacob heard as a child, but when Juyeon produces Changmin’s golden symbol from around his neck, he knows it must be real.

“Changmin showed me his last moments,” Juyeon says, subdued. “It was a different mage who actually pulled the knife, a woman named Bom, but Mage Jung… he was there. He might as well have done it, for all he betrayed us.”

Castling queens.

There’s no gray mage. No heir. The Ivory Queen is murderous and power-hungry, and there is no king of the Onyx Kingdom because the crown has been stolen and dismantled.

Everything is so much worse than he thought.

Jacob resists the urge to bury his face in his hands and cry. Instead, legs still trembling, he stands again. Kevin grabs his arm before he can fall. “Okay,” he breathes. “Okay.”

It’s not okay. None of this is okay. But Jacob can’t focus on any of that right now or he’ll start spiraling. He needs to think about the present, not the past, and what he can do to prevent more of this from happening. “Where were you going next?” he asks, tearing his mind away from Juyeon’s revelations. “Did you have a plan, or were you just running from the trackers?”

“Just running.” Juyeon winces. “We couldn’t find any leads after the amethyst. Honestly, we found out about these two mostly by luck.”

Jacob stares down at the amethyst, softly glowing in his hand. “I could try to track Mage Jung’s magic,” he says as the faint hum twists with the magic simmering under his skin. “See if it takes us anywhere. It’d be kind of a hit or miss at first since I don’t have any specific leads on where he is, but if we travel further into the Ivory Kingdom, I might pick up on something.”

Juyeon looks at Kevin, who shrugs. “It’s our best bet,” he says. “Like you said, we don’t have any other leads.”

“Agreed.” Juyeon nods. “But what about the tracking? The rain might’ve stopped them for a bit, but it’s only a matter of time before soldiers or mages find us again.”

A sigh of relief escapes Jacob’s lips. This, at least, he can help resolve. “Kevin can sew the jewels into my cloak,” he offers. “Their magic is probably too strong to completely mask, but the charm in the cloth will subdue it enough that hopefully anyone trying to trace will have a harder time of it.”

Similar relief spreads across Juyeon’s face. “All right. Sew the jewels in tonight, and then try to get some rest,” he directs. “We start moving tomorrow.”

And as the pallor fades from the prince’s cheeks, a familiar sharp-eyed determination replaces his previous blank expression, sending relief washing through Jacob’s mind. This is the Juyeon he knows, the Juyeon who would do anything for his kingdom, no matter how hopeless the situation.

Familiarity springs back into Jacob’s chest, and he gains the courage to smile once more.

. . . . .

It takes a month, but after several dead ends and a few too many brushes with Ivory mages to be comfortable (less than they probably would’ve encountered without the masking spell, but still), they end up in a small, sleepy town, more like a tiny village than anything, at the outskirts of the Ivory Kingdom.

Juyeon’s never been here, not on any of his official and unofficial visits to the kingdom. Even Kevin, whose wanderings have taken him all over the Board, seems confused by this place. But Jacob is adamant.

“The trace is strong here,” he says again, looking pale with exhaustion as Kevin forces him to drink another cup of water. Wrapped in his cloak, he looks much smaller, much frailer than Juyeon’s ever seen him.

Only then does Juyeon realize how much of a toll tracking them must have taken on the mage. He really shouldn’t have made them move so quickly as soon as Jacob found them. It’s just that they were being tracked, and the further away they got, the better it would be.

But now that Jacob’s in this condition?

Juyeon doesn’t regret it, exactly. It’s just that he would much rather be in a different position.

Wouldn’t they all?

For once, Juyeon ends up being one of the first choices to scout the village. Jacob wants to go, but Kevin forces him to stay behind (“First of all, you just spent a month tracking down a powerful mage, so you need rest. Second, if Mage Jung somehow manages to get a whiff of your trace –” “It’s not like you can smell it, Kevin –” “– then we’re fresh out a mage to put the crown back together.”). Jacob only agrees on the condition that Kevin stays behind so that when he wakes up, he can force his cousin to take a nap.

So Juyeon leaves them to their naps and bickering and walks the fringes of the town, careful not to get close to anyone he sees. A small town means less chance of recognition, but it also means a stranger is more noticeable.

There isn’t much. A few houses, a lot of grass, a rolling gray sky. Feels a bit dismal.

Doesn’t exactly help with his mood.

He doesn’t find anything, not on his path. When Kevin takes his place in the afternoon, he has similar luck. Several days pass and Juyeon’s privately beginning to wonder just what Jacob really sensed, but the mage is so sure that this is the place that he has no choice but to comply.

After an hour of skulking around, hiding behind trees or pretending to act natural when someone appears in the distance, Juyeon’s about to give up for the fifth day in a row. There’s nothing here, nothing that he can sense, anyway. Maybe they should start bringing Jacob along. He might be able to pick out something Juyeon can’t because he wasn’t blessed with the gift of magic.

Then he sees a familiar looking building in the distance and has to sit down.

He’s just been punched in the gut. Metaphorically. No one else is here – this area feels even emptier than the forest he and Kevin were hiding in when Jacob found them – but Juyeon still gasps like a fist drove itself into his stomach.

It’s just a shrine rooftop in the distance. Nothing much. But when Juyeon gathers the courage to look over once again, he has to avert his gaze because all he can think of is how the smoke from Sunwoo’s burned body rose over the roof of the shrine back in Ember.

Castling queens, the gray sky even looks like the wispy smoke that floated up. Juyeon can almost smell the faint scent of burning flesh.

He suppresses the urge to throw up.

Finally, he stands on shaky legs, ready to turn away and leave this shrine in the background so he doesn’t have to look at it again. But something clicks in his mind and he stops.

A shrine is where the domain’s head mage stays. It’s the first thing any child of Chess learns – if anything happens and you can’t find your parents, go to the shrine and find the mage.

Juyeon may not be a child any longer, but he’s certainly looking for a mage.

Queens, he’s dumb. This should have been his plan from the start. Slowly, reluctantly, his feet make their way across the grass towards the polished white rooftop he so wanted to avoid.

The shrine looks deserted, at first glance. White stone shines dully in the faint sunlight while wind whistles listlessly through the air. Juyeon isn’t stupid enough to go inside, so he crouches down behind a few scraggly bushes and prays that no one will see his half-dead body between the branches.

Not the best plan of action. He might honestly have better luck entering the shrine. But Kevin and Jacob are waiting for him to come back, so he needs to be cautious for now, at least.

Then a door swings open. A dark-haired boy steps out, probably no older than Juyeon.

Large eyes. A wide mouth usually curved into a smile.

It takes all of Juyeon’s willpower to remain silent and not call out Hwanwoong’s name. What is he doing here? Was he captured? Is there anyone else with him?

Does he have any information about Mage Jung, or has he already disappeared?

Hwanwoong doesn’t stay out long enough to catch Juyeon’s eye, just pokes his head out the door and looks around before heading back inside. But even then, Juyeon’s heart won’t stop racing.

He’s found one of the missing mages, one of those captured by the Ivory Kingdom. Possibly more are trapped inside. If he can just find a way to speak to Hwanwoong, to free anyone captured with him…

Allies are as useful as gems, especially if they have magic on their side.

. . . . .

When Juyeon comes back one afternoon and tells Jacob and Kevin that he saw Hwanwoong, Jacob doesn’t dare believe him. The last time he saw the young mage-in-training was months ago, before the war broke out and he was thrown into prison.

If Hwanwoong wasn’t dead already, he was captured. There is no reason for Jacob to believe that he’s really here in this tiny town and not just a figment of Juyeon’s imagination. There’s no room for hope.

Then Juyeon returns the next day with a strange smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. He disappears again as the sun is beginning to set, and after the last rays have sunk below the horizon, two figures approach Kevin, who’s in the middle of telling Jacob they should maybe go looking for Juyeon.

Hwanwoong’s large eyes are just visible in the dying light of the fire Kevin lit.

Jacob blinks once, twice. It’s a hallucination, he’s sure of it – he lost hope of finding another alive and uncaptured Onyx mage when the Valkyries helped him escape. There’s no way this Hwanwoong is real.

Then the mage-in-training smiles, and Jacob reaches forward to crush the younger boy into a hug.

“Hwanwoong,” he gasps. “Queens, I thought I would never see you again.”

“I thought so too.” Hwanwoong laughs, pulling away this time to hold Kevin close. “I heard rumors when we were traveling here, but I didn’t dare believe they were true.”

Juyeon smiles, really smiles, joy glittering in his eyes under the moonlight. “Told you, Jacob. I wasn’t hallucinating.”

Jacob huffs. “Can you blame me?”

Eventually, though, the mood dampens when they sit around the dying coals of Kevin’s fire. The eerie lighting only makes the shadows on Hwanwoong’s face deeper as they move strangely in his eyes.

Jacob swallows. He’s never been the greatest with scary things, and Hwanwoong looks more terrifying than any ghost he’s ever envisioned. It isn’t just the physical shadows – darkness washes across the mage’s young face when Juyeon asks him how he came here, a darkness that mimics the haunted look Jacob’s seen far too often in Juyeon’s and Kevin’s eyes.

Just how much has Hwanwoong suffered since he managed to make this escape?

“I was studying with a mixed group of mages in the Ivory Kingdom when the queen unleashed her… attack.” Hwanwoong stares into the glowing coals. “We were separated. Ivory students were taken somewhere else, I don’t know where, while the rest of us were held in shrines around the capital. My teacher, the head of our group, said that he would help us escape, but when that day came, he betrayed us.”

Jacob fights the urge not to throw up. First Jung, then Kang, and now… “Who was it?”

“Lim Jaebum.” Hwanwoong spits the name with a disgust that feels so out of place on his gentle features. “We fought back against him, but he had backup and we didn’t, and then Geonhak…”

Even in the dim red light of the coals, Kevin’s face is visibly white. Jacob imagines he looks much the same.

Juyeon leans forward, eyes frantic. “Geonhak?”

Hwanwoong breathes a shaky, shaky breath. His fingers tear grass from the ground he’s sitting on. Jacob takes his clenched fist and holds it gently, even as his own hands threaten to tremble.

“Geonhak’s dead.” Hwanwoong closes his eyes for a moment. Breathes again. “He died.”

Jacob can’t stop his fingers from shaking this time.

“After we got thrown into the dungeons, Youngjo and a few others started planning an escape.” Hwanwoong’s face twists with grief and fury. “It might have worked, actually, but someone snitched. I don’t know who it was – if I did, I honestly might have killed them – but they caught the leaders and made us watch their executions.”

Three audible gasps sound around the dead coals. Jacob holds Hwanwoong’s hand in a vice grip. Vaguely, he thinks that the younger boy will be lucky if he doesn’t lose circulation in his fingers.

“We stopped trying to escape then. We just wanted to keep everyone alive, at that point,” Hwanwoong continues, plowing on as though to tell the story as fast as he can without breaking down. “Then they started splitting us up to go to different places, and I ended up here about a month ago with Seoho, Keonhee, and Dongju under High Mage Jung. We were lucky just to be kept together.”

“So Mage Jung is still here,” Juyeon chokes out, looking vaguely sick. He and Kevin grip each other’s hands like they’re the only thing keeping them grounded. “He’s still here, at the shrine.”

Hwanwoong nods. “Yes.”

A tiny fire lights itself in Juyeon’s eyes. “Do you know if he’s hiding something? Keeping something here? A jewel, maybe?”

Slowly, a small smile begins to curve Hwanwoong’s lips. Jacob mentally breathes a sigh of relief at the familiar expression. “He’s keeping a piece of obsidian hidden very well,” the young mage replies, eyes twinkling. Then the glimmer dims, replaced with icy disgust. “It’s encased in flame, though. A mage’s flame.”

A mage’s flame.

Sacred flame.

The fire used to burn bodies, used to send a soul to rest.

Holy fire, unique to every mage, the strongest manifestation of a mage’s magic, a fire that is not to be used lightly and, unless in severe cases, only in the face of death or mutiny against the Board.

And now, used to safeguard a jewel that doesn’t even belong to the kingdom.

Jacob’s on his feet before he even realizes it. “What?”

Hwanwoong nods, fury painting his face. “I know.”

“That’s… that’s desecration,” Jacob says, staring at the mage still sitting on the ground. “Desecration of his own magic, to use the flame in any situation other than maintaining the balance of the Board. It’s almost as bad as –”

Almost as bad as killing a gray mage and a royal in the holiest shrine of the two kingdoms.

Juyeon’s and Kevin’s eyes cloud over. Jacob doesn’t dare to finish his sentence as he sits back down.

“We’ve talked about trying to douse the flame and escape, but we’re not strong enough,” Hwanwoong says quietly, picking at the grass again. “Seoho’s the only one who’s finished his training, and without Youngjo and Geonhak, he’s… he’s had his hands full.” He swallows. “High Mage Jung is too powerful. It’s why I told Juyeon to meet me at night – if I’d gone missing during the day, he would’ve noticed the lack of magic in the air. Asleep, he’s less sensitive.” Hwanwoong’s gaze turns sharp as he looks up at Jacob. “But you have several more years of experience. If His Highness and the amethyst heir can hold the mage back while the rest of us try to put out the flame…”

Jacob doesn’t wait for Juyeon’s approval before he nods. “Yes. I’ll do it.” Then he looks at the prince apprehensively. Juyeon’s the leader, after all – what if he disagrees?

But the prince’s eyes flash with the same furious disgust Jacob feels simmering in his own chest. “It’s a decent plan, the best that we’ve got right now.”

Kevin nods sharply. “I agree. Even if he didn’t have the jewel, he’s done too much for us to let this go.” His face is hard, a complete opposite of the usual gentle and teasing gaze Jacob is used to, but he can’t find it in his heart to care. After all, he agrees.

There will be no mercy, not even for former mentors. A traitor is a traitor, after all, in the eyes of justice.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for Jacob to not go feral and kill everything bc my man is on the verge)

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 4 "Haunted House" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

A girl died in this tub.

There's no record of any of these names except for one.

Oh, my god, there's two of them!

I own Halloween. It's my jam.

Halloween is the most important day of the year. It's the one day on the Gregorian calendar where you're allowed to go around terrifying children and not be branded a psychopath.

I am a future network news anchor who's super classy and has almost no fat on her body.

A lot of my fans are, like, friendless dumpy coeds at this or that nursing school in one of this country's various national armpits.

They put down their hot pockets and bask in the warm glow of what it feels like to love me.

I went shopping with my comatose grandmother's credit card and bought presents.

Oh, my god, it says my name!

I hope the severed leg brightens up your trailer park.

You're a bright light in my life, and I wanted you to know how much you impress me with your frumpy spirit.

You are so devastatingly mediocre and adorable!

I can't wait to see you in person, but before that, I'd like to see you post this all over social media, to exploit it for my own gain.

Aah! It's a rotting jack-o'-lantern!

Aah! This box is just filled with blood!

She got me a razor apple!

I stole this cadaver head from an ophthalmology student just for you.

You're the most important person in the world.

So you didn't see anyone in a red devil costume entering or leaving the house?

Are you coming to the precinct pig roast this year?

Come on, she's obviously the killer!

Do you mean to suggest I changed out of my nightgown, strapped myself into a skintight pleather red devil costume, climbed out a second-story dormer, and shimmied to the ground with a chain saw before entering a window I had left open, tried to kill you, then leapt out the window, climbed back up the wall, changed back into my nightgown,

and raced downstairs, all in the course of about 90 seconds?

Clearly that's got you a little freaked out.

I'm not gonna hold any of this against you, and I'm gonna let you be my date for the faculty Halloween party.

Attempted murder!

A guy was almost killed tonight, okay?

Now, no, I'm not a detective, hell, I ain't even a cop, but what I am is somebody who watched every one of those Cosby mysteries, okay?

See? Dismemberment!

I am so sorry that I pushed you out of my car and drove off real scared.

I just can't believe that How To Lose A Guy In 10 days is your favorite movie, too.

In precisely two and half minutes when we go in there, you let me do all the talking.

What are you dressed as?

Oh, you have a squirrel. Don't see that much anymore.

Breakfast is almost ready, we got meat today.

What can you tell us about that night?

Now, we will keep your name out of it, of course.

'm a vault,

And to get in this vault you need a key. Now, you may ask, a key to what? It's a key to meaning. Once you've found the meaning, you don't need the words. You know what I'm saying?

Please, continue with your story.

Have any of you ever heard of "negligent homicide"?

We need to dispose of this body on our own. Now, I've got everything we need in the kitchen to make sausages out of her.

I'm gonna go downstairs, shut this party down, and then we'll get the body out of here.

Somebody has to watch after the baby.

Can you at least turn on the radio?

Just leave the details to me.

We can't just act like this never happened.

She's the devil, that one.

I looked at that baby up close. I know my peas and carrots. That baby was a girl.

Your support doesn't matter.

My campaign needs a theme?

My pumpkin's drunk.

I'm hosting a haunted house to raise money for sickle cell anemia.

Why are you holding a fund-raiser, though?

I don't think you understand the magnitude of the miscalculation you just made.

I can assure you you will not be winning an election anytime soon. And when you lose, I am gonna make it my lifelong passion to destroy your reputation.

You're a stuck-up little sociopath, and everybody in this room knows it.

It might behoove you to recall that everyone here witnessed you actually murder someone

Just sharpening knives.

Put the knives down.

I don't know what came over me.

How very adolescent of you to think of this.

It vaguely smacks of something my six-year-old sister would be excited about.

It's the most disgusting disease in the history of mankind.

You get it when you don't even understand the most basic tenets of oral hygiene.

Just give the dang thing its pot of gold already!

I ain't got no candy!

Bet you're a sexy dirt-covered girl. That's what I bet you are.

Sometimes I come out here and I just rub my hands on the gravestones.

I get you more than anyone.

I also find the thought of dead bodies extremely arousing.

I just don't understand why I have all these dark feelings.

You know, I just think our generation's had it too easy, you know? We haven't seen enough horrible stuff. There's no awesome diseases randomly killing people. There's not really any awesome wars to go off to and witness horrific things you can't unsee. We, like, pulled out of all of 'em.

Sometimes I just don't even feel like I'm living, you know?

The only time I feel anything is when I'm thinking about chopping up a body.

And here you are, saddled up with an uptight girlfriend who freaked out for no other reason than the fact that you just wanted to fantasize about having sex with her lifeless corpse.

Oh, my god, I got a total chub right now.

Not scary enough.

She'll let you in the back door.

What could be scarier for an adult than a child coming to murder them?

Isn't that all of our greatest fear? That the pain, the regrets, the mistakes of our youth will destroy us in our adulthood? That we can't escape our inner child. One we would rather forget, but who, at the end of the day has all the power.

Why are you lying to me?

Something does not make sense.

You got to give me more here, okay?

I don't understand what you're getting at.

Are you on bath salts?

Why are we even here?

This house is haunted.

There's a legend in this neighborhood about a woman who wailed about her dead children. And this was the house she lived in.

These dumb ol' kids are smoking crack.

I think it's incredible what you can find out with just a quick trip down to your local library.

This can be one of the rooms for the haunted house.

What exactly do you plan on doing at this haunted house?

I was thinking we could blindfold folks and make 'em put their hands in a bowl full of grapes we peeled, so it'll feel like eyeballs.

I think the reason you want to have a haunted house party is 'cause a haunted party is like a buffet for murderers.

Yeah, yeah, you can just go around killing anybody you want and ain't nobody even gonna even notice.

Just like you chopped the arms off that dumb-ass golf guy.

Why do you have it out for me?

So now you look at me and see everything you could've been.

I hope you have a good time at you haunted party and get to murder lots of folks.

You have this way too thought out.

Isn't this kind of nice?

My sense of personal identity is completely external.

I really don't have much to offer.

I've found that my particular style of speaking and gesticulation is extremely off-putting to most boys. And girls. And anyone.

I need to eat. My blood sugar is crashing.

I'm tired of depriving myself of joy and sustenance.

I may die at the end of a serial killer's blade, but I refuse to die hungry.

Which one of you ladies would like to be my costume for Halloween? I'm going as "dude having awesome sex with you."

I mean, what in the hell's wrong with the world where a guy can't even whistle at a chick just to tell her she looks hot?

I recently took a women's studies class. Yes, because it was a requirement, but I learned a lot anyways. Like the culture that says it's okay for a man to objectify a woman for her appearance is the same culture that pressures girls as young as ten to have eating disorders.

So you're basically saying I'm the one responsible for making you look hot?

When you treat us like meat, you're no better than him!

I'm not really sure how you got my number, but I like how you took the initiative and texted me where you wanted us to meet.

Do you think you're man enough to take me inside that house and attack my crack?

I'll sure this house has an amazingly romantic basement.

Hey, so, uh, a little awkward since we're about to bone down and everything, but, um, what's your name?

Smells like roadkill.

I've never been so scared in my whole life.

All right, if we go to the police, they're gonna see I'm still rocking a mad sidepipe, and they're gonna think I had something to do with it.

We have to warn people.

All right, everybody listen up! All of your lives are in danger!

There are dead bodies! Dead bodies. Real-life dead bodies.

Did you say dead bodies?

Those are like the most lifelike dead bodies I've ever seen.

Is that a real dead body?

There are five dead bodies in that house. Laid out in horrible and deliberate macabre poses.

You are not leaving this house tonight.

You make it harder and harder to believe that you're not the killer.

I found out something really interesting, and now I have a theory.

Everything is weird about that story.

I mean, it's too big a coincidence.

We have to figure out who that woman was.

[revasserium]

bewildered madness with keiji

send me a number and a character, and i’ll write you a drabblerequests are currently: closed 

155. bewildered madness akaashi ; 1,921 words

a/n: in which akaashi is prince hans, and you are the snow queen ( aka the disneyxhaikyuu that no one asked for ) ; also my submission for hqcreation’s monthly prompt sweater weather 

he only catches a glimpse of you, through the cover of trees, the forest frozen around you by the unnatural permafrost -- the moonlight above shattering the quiet darkness below, splintering into glimmering shards of light, refracting off the snow-covered earth. 

he sighs. 

but there are things he must do, for the sake of his future — for the kingdom that is yet to be his. 

he hears you before he sees you, the melody haunting as his childhood dreams, crushed beneath the feet of those with the simple advantage of an earlier birth; he’d always thought that custom ludicrous and dated. he was ever bit the man (and more) than his older brothers — why shouldn’t he have a chance at the crown? 

he shivers, and sighs, and pulls his thick cloak ever tighter around his shoulders and thinks that no matter how beautiful your voice might sound, you’re still the key to a kingdom that might one day be his. and for that, he’s willing to do anything. 

“i don’t want to hurt you.” 

the first words he says to you. 

“i’m not who should be worried about getting hurt.” 

your first words to him. 

“fair, fair —” he laughs, an unexpected sound, a strange, warm thing that blossoms from him. 

and for a second, you almost believe he’s sincere. 

“what i mean is, i mean you no harm, physically or otherwise — i simply with to…” 

you raise an eyebrow, drawing yourself up, your dress woven of silver and broken dreams heavy around your shoulders, even if the material feels weightless. 

“talk?” you offer. 

akaashi grins, sheepishly. 

“in a sense.” 

you cast him an unaffected sort of glance. 

“you wish to ask for my sister’s hand in marriage. i declined. what else is there to talk about?” 

he licks his lips, taking a moment to square his shoulders. 

“then i should be so daring as to ask for your hand instead.” 

a chill runs down your spine. 

“what?” 

akaashi lowers himself to one knee, bending his head, a hand outstretched. 

“you want to marry me.” 

he lifts his head to look up at you, and there’s something so broken, so strange yet familiar in his gaze that you find yourself taking half a step forward, and then a full one. 

it takes you a moment to realize that it’s loneliness — 

a thing that’s kept you company your whole life, and in doing so, isolating you from everyone else. not by choice, perhaps, but maybe — you swallow and think — maybe be design. 

you lick your lips. 

“you know, if you’re after the kingdom, this is a terrible way to get to it.” 

akaashi remains kneeling. 

“i don’t think so.” 

you scoff. 

“by fleeing arendelle, i am forfeiting my right to the throne — my sister will be queen, and —” 

“but you are the queen by birthright, arenelle runs in your blood — she will always be yours, so long as you have the courage to take it.” 

“and if i don’t… have that courage, i mean.” 

akaashi smiles, a sweet, soft, gentle thing, as he lifts himself up from his knees and takes a step towards you. 

and perhaps there’s still an entire ocean of loss and hurt between the pair of you, but for a moment, just a moment, you allow yourself to fall into the possibility — the thought of marrying, of being queen, of living a normal life.

maybe, maybe, you’d even be happy. 

“then i shall wait with you here until you do.” 

it’s such a strange sentiment, to be offered company in loneliness. and you’ve been alone for so long, willfully or not, that there’d seemed no other option. and yet here he was, this prince from some faraway southern isle, offering you — not love, but companionship, in a way that isn’t burdened with familial relationship. 

“and… if i hurt you?” 

he opens his palms, and slowly, ever so slowly, takes off his gloves. 

“then i shall let you.” 

that night, he tells you about his childhood, of growing up with so many brothers his own parents couldn’t remember if everyone’s eaten. of dreaming of one day having some place to call his own, of scheming of a way to get there. 

“you know, you shouldn’t be telling me this. especially if you’re trying to steal my kingdom.” 

akaashi slates you a look. 

“steal it? no, no — i just want to belong to it.” 

(oh.) 

“oh.”

you look down at your hands, the instruments through which your powers flow. and a part of you, the deepest, darkest part of you, whispers that you understand. 

such a strange thing — the wish for belonging — so simple to say, and so thoughtless to people who have it, but to those who don’t.

“it’s like… moving mountains or shifting seas,” you say. 

akaashi’s smile is a dancing shadow on the planes of his face, and for the first time, you take the chance to really look at him, sitting cross-legged on the floor of this ice castle, built from spirit and resignation and years of pent-up loneliness — 

and you think that he’s quite handsome like this, all dark hair and bright, intelligent eyes. 

“both of which, need i remind you, my queen, you are capable of.” 

you bite your lip. 

he inches closer. 

“and you’ve been capable of it since long before you knew.” 

you smile. 

“it’s a curse.” 

he chuckles. 

“it’s a gift.” 

you give him a flat-lined look and he shrugs. 

“call it what you will, but it’s power. and where i come from, that’s worth something.” 

you curl your fingers into your palms and wrap your arms around your knees, bringing them into your chest. 

“are you cold?” 

you laugh, even as he removes his jacket. 

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but cold is kinda my thing,” you say, gesturing at the palace around the pair of you. 

akaashi shuffles closer on his knees, and then drapes his thick cloak over your shoulders. 

“i know, but… you still seemed… cold to me. there, better?” 

he shifts back to admire his handiwork, the thick woolen cloak now fastened tightly over your dress. 

you flush, for the first time, feeling heat creep up your cheeks as he sits back down across from you, closer than before. 

and then, a moment later. 

“you really think i could do it?” 

“do what?” 

“be the queen… learn to control — ” you wave a hand around the cavernous hall of the ice palace, “all this.” 

akaashi smiles. 

“yes. i know you can.” 

you peer at him. 

“how do you know?” 

“because i’ve seen greed up close — i’ve felt it in my heart, and for the longest time, i thought that was what drove me. but then… seeing you, witnessing your power for the first time — it was… humbling. and, i guess i just never thought i could feel that kind of awe, that kind of…” he blushes, the color tinting his already pale cheeks the color of a winter sunrise. 

“... wonder.” 

you feel yourself warming, from somewhere deep in the depths of your belly. like all those mornings when papa would make hot cocoa and momma would tell you and your sister stories of the creatures that lived in the woods — friendly creatures, some, and others, not so friendly. 

“but momma, why are some creatures not friendly?” you’d asked, once upon a winter’s morn. 

and she’s laughed and booped your nose and tugged a spoon handle out of your sister’s mouth with the patience only a mother could muster. 

“because, my darling girl, sometimes what’s good for you, isn’t always good for others. and so those creatures, the not so friendly ones, might not mean you any harm — it’s just that what’s good for them, be the exact opposite of what’s good for you.” 

you’d frowned, leaning into the warmth of your mother’s embrace as she rocked you over her lap. 

“what do you do then?” 

momma had let out a small sigh, and brushed a strand of hair from your eyes. 

“you try to understand them… and, you try to forgive.” 

akaashi reaches out to sweep a strand of hair from your cheek and you almost flinch back, but something inside you holds you to the spot. 

here are two creatures, you think, towards whom the rest of the world is unfriendly. 

not because it wants to hurt you, but simply because… 

“... what’s good for the world, isn’t necessarily good… for us…” 

“hm?” akaashi’s head lilts to one side, and for a second, you can see the boy in him, the boy that had been forced to grow up faster than his age because of his brothers, his father — everyone who’d ever told him no. you see the boy that had just wanted a place to belong to, to call his own. 

you offer him a smile, one that’s true and honest and just a little broken. 

“nothing… just remembering an old story my mom used to tell me and my sister.” 

“tell me,” he says. 

you lick your lips, you think of all the reasons you shouldn’t trust this prince, this prince who makes no effort in concealing his motives in coming to find you, who asked for your hand in marriage simply because he wants to be king — but who also offered you his coat, and is sitting with you in this frozen palace, listening to your stories. 

and this is the thing about falling in love — it comes from the unlikeliest of places. its springs from rocks and trees, from the budding leaves of spring, the dazzling blooms of summer, from the afire-trees of autumn, and sometimes — especially — from the frosted mornings of winter. 

it’s kind of madness, you decide, some time later, with akaashi’s hand in wrapped around your own, trying to find steadiness in the way your heart is hammering inside your chest — love is. it’s a madness from which some people never recover, but what beautiful madness it is, to be in love — to love and be loved back, and to know it. 

“do you love me?” you’d asked, one of those many frigid nights the pair of you had spent in that castle hidden in the mountains, dancing and singing, and sharing stories. 

akaashi had smiled, pressed his forehead to yours and said, “no, but i think i’m learning to.” 

and you’d laughed and said, “me too.” 

because if he’d said yes, you’d have known he was lying, and you prefer it this way anyways. 

honesty, always. between the pair of you. 

“why me?” you’d asked another night. 

and he’d said, without a single thread of doubt in his voice, “because you.” 

and that, you’d decided was all there is to that. 

now however, standing at the precipice of what you knew would be the rest of your life, looking down over the kingdom that has always been yours, you feel a coldness spreading through you. 

you shiver, and akaashi reaches out to wrap his arms around your shoulders. 

“cold?” he asks. 

you grin, “a bit.” 

he reaches out to tighten the cloak around your shoulders — his cloak. 

“there, better?” 

you laugh, nodding. 

“sure is.” 

you take a deep breath; he takes your hand. 

“do you love me?” you ask. 

akaashi nods, “yes.” 

he squeezes your hand, and you feel the warmth in your stomach blossom into something so very much like spring. 

“let’s go home,” you say. 

akaashi smiles, and it’s a beautiful thing. 

“yeah, let’s go… home.”

--- 

taglist:@dorkyama @curiouslilbeast @tamcitrus @sushimii @lovebotrecs @wackatoshi @yusemis @beatific-drabbles  @lceiji @vventure @parkersvibes @lena-chan009 @tickles614 @therandomfandomcollector @nek-o-man @haikyuu-ink @kingkags @possumwho @kawanisshi @shouyouwrites  @nerdygremlin @deathcab4daddy @yams046 @aoba-j @ominous-meme @chokomoko @musekala @seto-sofia @k-gada @kylalily @roger-taylorr @kxgeyamasmilk @darkcb97 @bap-kingdom @keijichigo @nerdygremlin @cucci-man3

pls click here to be addedmessage me to be removed

[alirhi]

random snippet again

as promised, @feralgoblintea here's the (temporary) scene where the two sisters meet for the first time since one went missing as a child

note about the nickname: Rachel's middle name is Miranda; everyone has called her 'Andy' from that since she was a little kid. it's explained in her story, but not in this scene, so I just wanted to explain it here lol

"Your parents are very eager to know where you've been and what you've been going through all these years," the doctor told her, deep voice oddly gentle and soothing. Rachel smiled sadly; his voice reminded her of Amadeus. "Most of all, they want to know that you're alright."

She knew he thought she was crazy. Her parents definitely shared that opinion, which was why she was here to begin with. Still, she couldn't help asking, "And, in your professional opinion, am I?"

He caught her lightly mocking tone and snorted, leaning back in his chair to mirror her pose. "In my professional opinion," he shot back, though the sarcasm left his tone before he even finished his sentence, "you've been through Hell, Rachel. The trauma you've suffered is very, very real. If you're asking, do I believe in demons and portals and time travel, I'd have to say no. But that pain and fear came from somewhere... I'd like you to come back in for regular sessions, if you're up for it; see if we can cut through the fantasy, see past the demons and find the real monsters who hurt you."

"That's why I'm not coming back." She stood, shaking her head a little. "I'm not surprised you don't believe me - I probably wouldn't believe it, myself, if I hadn't lived it - but it's a bit frustrating. What I told you isn't metaphors or delusion. It all happened, and I'm not interested in having someone rip it all apart and try to make me doubt my own memory."

"They call that 'gaslighting' these days."

Startled, the blonde whirled around to face the source of the new voice; a woman she sort of vaguely recognized was standing in the doorway, hand on the knob, smiling at her. After a long moment, her brain helpfully edited the image before her to make it make sense; wild red hair to dirty blonde, violet eyes to mismatched green and blue, face younger and body smaller and more plump. "...Beck?!"

Rebecca's smile widened and she stepped forward with a nod. "Hey, Andy."

"Oh my god!" With a laugh and a delighted screech, she launched herself across the room and threw her arms around her little sister. "What are you doing here?"

Nearly squeezing the breath out of her, the younger woman murmured, "I heard you were back and had to see you. Stand your ground, Andy. Don't let them make you forget or doubt that it was all real. We know the truth." She released her, only to bring her hands up to grip the sides of her sister's head. "Magic is real."

Rachel froze, staring at Rebecca's mouth long after it closed and the two long, wicked fangs that had drawn her attention were hidden from view. "...What happened to you?"

"Not here. I'll tell you everything, but not here."

"Okay." Without so much as a backward glance at the shrink, she followed the redhead out of the office, past their fretting parents, and out into the bright sunny day that made Rebecca hiss.

She cringed and immediately donned a beat-to-hell baseball cap and a pair of dark sunglasses. "Fuck, I hate sunny days."

"You always did." Rachel couldn't help smiling faintly; so many years had passed, more than anyone in the world around them could ever understand, and yet so little about her baby sister had changed.

"Yeah, well... I've only gotten more sensitive to it."

Once they'd made it deep enough into the woods behind the Industrial Park that there was no risk of anyone overhearing, they stopped, and Rachel asked her point blank: "You're a vampire, aren't you?"

Rebecca laughed, gratefully leaning back into the shade of the nearest tree. "Only in our lives is that a casual conversation starter. And yes. Thankfully I'm old enough that daylight won't kill me. It's just unpleasant."

With her own accidental time travel in mind, the blonde asked, "How old are you?" Thirty-seven, she knew, in the eyes of the people around them; to them, Rachel herself had only just turned thirty-nine, and yet both sisters looked at each other with exhausted, haunted eyes millennia older than they could ever hope to make anyone else understand.

"As a vampire, or in general?" She smirked, shrugging off her own question before her sister could answer. "In general is harder to pin down, but I've been a vampire for about six thousand years, give or take a few."

Leaning against a tree roughly opposite Rebecca's, Rachel mirrored her smirk and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was Queen of an entire planet, and then POW and slave on a second, then a fugitive... I managed to send my older daughter home, before I got stuck on a third planet with my boys and little girl. It's been about ten thousand years."

"You have kids?" Rebecca grinned, once again showing those distractingly long fangs. "Me, too! I have two daughters, Madeline and Alice."

"Senna, Kieran, Caspian, and...Cassie," Rachel told her in answer to her unspoken question. She couldn't help blushing as she listed her children's names; she'd since learned what senna was, and hadn't actually given her younger two children names beginning with the same sound on purpose. It had just sort of worked out that way.

"Twins?"

She shook her head. "Caspian's my stepson, kinda, and Cassie was named after-"

Rebecca flinched, remembering. "After Cassie Wade, right? I was so focused on figuring out what happened to you, and then fighting to survive, I'd forgotten she went missing with you."

"She..." Clearing her throat, the blonde squared her shoulders and pulled her strong front around herself like a familiar safety blanket. "She saved our lives; she didn't make it. And, yeah. I named my youngest after her. Anyway, they're all grown, and Kieran..." Jaw clenching, she forcibly dismissed thoughts of her rapist and merely said, "He's my perfect warrior prince. Well, King now. I love them all, and desperately miss Senna, but Kieran, despite his more questionable choices, has a special place in my heart."

Rebecca took her sunglasses off and studied her for a moment before venturing, "Y'know... I literally eat rapists for breakfast."

That got a startled bark of laughter from her big sister, who shook her head. "Even if my boy hadn't already killed him, I doubt his gross, rancid blood would sit well with you. He wasn't human."

The redhead shrugged, smirking again. "Doesn't have to be. I've eaten Fae, elves, one vampire that pissed me off royally..."

"Not such a picky eater anymore, huh?" she teased, grinning. "Was it some badass revenge on your sire or something?"

Laughing, Rebecca shook her head. "Nope, no sire. I'm the OG vampire, babe. The first of the species. My younger daughter, Alice, is the first of the natural born vamps."

"So, wait... You could still get pregnant after you were turned? What?" Rachel frowned, beyond confused. "And how the fuck...?"

"I'm not dead," her little sister explained with another laugh. "Everything's slowed way the hell down, but hasn't stopped. I can't have kids with a human, or probably most Fae, but a certain trickster God..."

"...God?"

She grinned and nodded, though her haunting violet eyes looked sad. "Loki. He's Alice's dad."

"Huh. So the Gods are real." Rachel snorted. "Go figure. And my sister banged one."

"I loved him," the other woman whispered, staring at the ground. She opened her mouth as if to speak further, then seemed to reconsider and closed it again, clearing her throat.

To spare her from some clearly painful memories, whatever they were, Rachel asked, "What's a Fae?"

"Fairy," was the simple enough answer. "Fairies are real, too. Maddie - my oldest - is Fae."

Is she Loki's, too? She didn't dare ask - Loki was clearly a touchy subject - but she was dying to know.

As if she could read her mind, Rebecca, still avoiding her gaze, explained, "I was still mortal when I had her. Her father was Fae."

As the light breeze shifted the leaves above them, making the light dance across Rebecca's ghostly white skin, Rachel finally noticed the scars. At first, they'd looked like tribal tattoos, done puzzlingly in a silvery-white. When she realized they were actually a complex web of ancient scars, she also noticed they covered every inch of her sister's flesh that she could see around her shorts and tank top. Her face was the only place free of the oddly beautiful swirling lines, though she did spot a faint scar on her forehead, running from hairline to cheekbone and through the outer edge of her eyebrow.

"Is Madeline's father why you hunt rapists?" Is he the one who tore you apart?

"He didn't rape me... Technically. But yes, he's the one who scarred me." At her startled look, Rebecca smirked; it utterly failed to reach her eyes, but it was a start. "I can read your mind. I'm trying not to - I find it unspeakably rude and invasive - but when you're actively thinking about me, it tends to cut through my shields. The scars are from a spell he worked on me; blood magic. It's what made Maddie's conception possible, and chained me to him for years."

"Kieran's father was my greatest enemy; Crown Prince of the people who'd been attacking and slaughtering mine. King by the time I escaped." She didn't know what made her suddenly share this, but it felt like the thing to do. Her sister had told her something deeply personal and troubling; it seemed only right to meet candor with candor. Besides, Rachel and Rebecca had been two peas in a pod as children, as close as two sisters could possibly be. There was no amount of time that could strain their relationship. "I was captured in battle and kept as a slave for around a year and a half."

"How did the other three come about?" She smirked again, shoving her wild red hair back off her face impatiently. "Even when we were kids, I'd have bet just about anything that you're gayer than a rainbow, so how do you have so many kids?"

Rachel laughed, rolling her eyes. "Political marriage gave me Senna - born in a dungeon, thanks to me being pregnant during the battle and not knowing it yet. She was smuggled home to her father after she was born. I made a friend in that Hellhole, Emil, and he'd been raising Caspian; he's not his biological father, but that never mattered, just like it didn't matter to me that I didn't give birth to him. That boy's just as much my son as Kieran. We were supposed to go back to my home when we escaped, but something went screwy and we ended up on Achlys, instead, where I met my girlfriend and we all decided to just settle and raise the boys."

"So you cheated on your husband?" Rebecca's grin was teasing - and, thank god, reached her eyes at last! - but Rachel still threw an acorn at her when she said, "You whore!"

"I never saw him again! And he wouldn't have given a shit," she explained with a laugh. "I was, like, his third or fourth wife. And like I said, it was purely political; I was Queen, he was my advisor, he wanted power and I wanted an heir. Enter Senna, who boosted Raziel from random noble to father of the next Queen, and assured that there would be someone to take the reins if I died."

"So..." Her sister began ticking points off on her fingers as she spoke. "Shrewd political moves gave you Senna, you're co-parenting Caspian with a friend, we won't speak of Kieran's origins... How and why was Cassie a thing?"

Rachel shook her head, gaping at her. "A thing? That's nice, Beck. Real nice."

"Gods, you've missed so many cultural shifts, dude." Rebecca shook her head right back, trying not to laugh at her. "Just answer the question, old lady."

"Emil and I, and my girlfriend Trinity, all talked and decided to hell with conventionality; we all love each other, so we'll all be together. Em's my exception, I guess; the only man I've ever been attracted to even after seeing him naked. Our boys were grown, Senna was long gone, we'd made a whole new life for ourselves, so we decided to have another baby. Enter Cassie." Rachel sighed, staring off into space. "And now she's grown, Kieran's back in that awful place trying to turn it around, married to a great girl, Caspian's there with them to help..."

Though she had a feeling she knew the answer, the vampire asked softly, "And your lovers?"

"...Dead. Cassie - Cassie Wade, I mean - died in prison, Trin and Em were killed in the second war." A bitter smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Kieran and Cas are running a third."

"There's always another fucking war," Rebecca grumbled. "I've watched so many of them come and go, fought in two, myself... It never really ends."

[novelsandtea]

Book Review: A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

Rate: 4.5/5

Nesta Archeron has always been prickly-proud, swift to anger, and slow to forgive. And ever since being forced into the Cauldron and becoming High Fae against her will, she's struggled to find a place for herself within the strange, deadly world she inhabits. Worse, she can't seem to move past the horrors of the war with Hybern and all she lost in it. The one person who ignites her temper more than any other is Cassian, the battle-scarred warrior whose position in Rhysand and Feyre's Night Court keeps him constantly in Nesta's orbit. But her temper isn't the only thing Cassian ignites. The fire between them is undeniable, and only burns hotter as they are forced into close quarters with each other. Meanwhile, the treacherous human queens who returned to the Continent during the last war have forged a dangerous new alliance, threatening the fragile peace that has settled over the realms. And the key to halting them might very well rely on Cassian and Nesta facing their haunting pasts. Against the sweeping backdrop of a world seared by war and plagued with uncertainty, Nesta and Cassian battle monsters from within and without as they search for acceptance-and healing-in each other's arms.

 This is the fourth book in Sarah J. Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses world. If you haven’t read the first three books – Go read them! Not only are they amazing stories, but this book will not make much sense without the background, even if it is more of a spin-off from the core trilogy. 

I really liked this book! It has a little bit of everything: drama, quests, banter, romance, danger, spice (okay more than a little bit there). Its over 750 pages long, and I spent almost every free moment I had reading it and was finished in three days. That’s saying something since I’m not a particularly fast reader. I had worried about getting into a story that was not only not focused on my favorites from the previous books, but one of the two POVs was probably my least favorite character of the entire series (hello Nesta). By the time I finished it, however, I was cheering for every success these characters had! I seriously recommend this book, especially to anyone interested in a story that has a slower build but is still packed with wonderful moments that will have you at the edge of our seat.

Aaaand that’s really all I have for the non-spoiler section! Full review below.

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Since finishing the book, I’ve sat down and really thought about the plot of the story. As Maas’s books are typically very action packed, I had gone into this book expecting the same. While still having some real tense action scenes, a lot less happens in this book which is surprising considering its size. I think that is telling of Maas’s talent in her character development and her ability to make a story of recovery and growth as riveting as one filled with war and battles. The majority of the story is focused on Nesta and her healing from the traumatic events she had gone through during the previous books. I truthfully never really liked Nesta, and I found her to be incredibly selfish and harsh. Even in the beginning of ACOSF, she is always angry and lashing out at everyone around her. While it had me wanting to pull out my hair, I ended up loving that we get that unapologetic broken character in the beginning. We follow Nesta throughout her entire arc of recovery. We see her in her lowest of lows and are right alongside her as she learns how to work through her traumas and pain and face the person she has become. I especially loved the focus on healing broken relationships and accepting both responsibility and forgiveness. Not everything is perfectly healed by the end, but we do see Nesta walking a better path having accepted all parts of herself, both dark and light. A lot of time is spent on Nesta trying to push down that darkness and death that she associates with her powers. Seeing her not only accept that part of her but finally understand how she can exist beyond it was so impactful, and I think it does a good job of holding a mirror to similar feelings that I believe a lot of people have experienced. I really loved the hike and breakdown that followed her explosion at Amren’s place and the reveal to Feyre. The way mental health is represented in this book is refreshing, and so many parts of it felt so raw and real. It really struck a chord with me, and moved me in many ways as I was reading. It may sound cliché, but reading about Nesta learning to heal helped me acknowledge and accept parts of myself.

While Cassian is half of the POV in this book, it truly does feel like Nesta’s story. That being said, I did love the parts of Cassian we had. I loved reading his struggle with wanting to be there for Nesta in the ways she needed but also needing to protect himself. I adored how he truly saw her and always accepted every part, even all the ugly spots. When he felt the mating bond snap into place but left knowing Nesta couldn’t deal with it at that time, gah I was dying. Cassian never once pitied her. He wanted to help and protect her, but he knew it was a journey she had to do herself. He is a leading force in Nesta’s growth and constantly offers both his own strength and vulnerability. I really enjoyed seeing the love grow between them, especially as Nesta learned to open herself more to the possibility of healing and finding her own place and purpose. I just really can’t get enough of them together! I also really loved the moments we got between the three brothers – I was surprised by how much I had wanted those scenes. It was exciting to get a closer glimpse into that aspect of Cassian’s life, and the bond between him, Az, and Rhys.

I can’t avoid at least mentioning the smut in this book. All I will really say is this book has really stepped fully into the adult category. The scenes were extremely intense, steamy, and pretty descriptive. If you were looking for that typical Maas smuttiness aspect, be prepared for this book to be several notches above what we’ve seen previously (and a lot more of it).  

I could seriously talk about this book forever, but as I already fear I’ve begun to ramble, I’m just going to list some of my favorite things I haven’t mentioned yet below:

 The House!! I loved the relationship that developed between it and Nesta. Their interactions really became conversations, and I loved the idea of a sentient object becoming a core force in Nesta’s life. Also only-bubble baths and a baby pegasus are always a win.

Every snarky comment between Nesta and Cassian. Extremely entertaining and witty.

The entire Court of Nightmare scene with the dancing. So powerful and I loved seeing Nesta in her element.

The process of Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn coming together. I really loved reading about their training together, and the chapters once they meet up in the Blood Rite were some of my favorites. Their mini romance book club was precious.

A Rhys and Feyre baby! While I had some issues with this plot point, I still enjoyed the place it had in the story. The reactions of Cassian and Azriel was one of my favorite moments of the entire book.

The introduction to what I assume is the next major villain for the rest of the series. While it didn’t feature too largely until the end of the book, I think it did a good job setting up the situation for future installments.

The search for the Dead Trove. I really loved each moment we get, especially with the kelpie during the search for the mask. Good stuff

A few things I didn’t love:

I didn’t love how often Mor was gone. I know she did not really have a role in this story, but it would have been nice to see her more in passing as we did other characters.

The whole early delivery aspect of the pregnancy plot line. It felt a little plot convenient to me, and no explanation was ever given. I did like Nesta’s sacrifice and that moment, but I didn’t like how and why it happened.

I didn’t love that Rhys was trying so hard to hide the truth about the pregnancy from Feyre. I can kind of understand it when thinking about how he knew they were all probably going to die (that dumb bargain what the heck) but it is still stupid. Not the biggest issue to me, just not my favorite thing.

How much time we spent focused on the queen only to have her completely removed from the entire story in a blink. I know Nesta was insanely powerful at the time, but I just wanted…more.

I went into this book with very different expectations from what I got. I really enjoyed reading it, and I will definitely be getting the next book when it is published. Whether you loved or hated Nesta in the earlier books, I would recommend giving this one a chance. It sure changed my mind! Let me know your thoughts, I would love to discuss it!

[lilytriestoexist]

Erawan With Bangs: A Sequel

I was stressing myself out over a physics assignment involving eyeballs so I decided the ideal stress relief was...writing fanfiction about EWB. Again. Really, it’s all physics’s fault. Also, I haven’t read all of K0A, so this is nowhere near what actually happened in canon, but it's probably way cooler. Featuring: @crescentcitysux @croissantcitysucks and @antisjmmemes. Obligatory tag: @erawanwithbangs . And it’s 12am here, so goodnight lol. (i think i 'peaked' with the first one. also, tw/ erawan kills people and there's talk about blood)

His new look, Erawan decided, was the most powerful weapon in his disposal. It had struck his Valg Princes and common underlings speechless with its sheer magnificence. Not one person had spoken out against his mighty bangs, for they were faultless and flawless, and most definitely not because he had snapped the neck of the sole demon commoner who had given his hair a displeased side-eye. No, the people had spoken, and his bangs were glorious. 

But while he and his bangs carried his side of the war to victory after victory, Maeve was not doing as well. The nasty brat who styled herself a queen - what was her name, Alien? Ayla? No, it was Eileen. Yes, Fire Queen Eileen had escaped from Maeve’s clutches and was reunited with her mate, Ronan, her cousin Adrian, her friend Lydia, and a few other Fae males whose names he couldn’t remember. They all started to blend together after a while, anyway. The last he’d heard from Maeve through their Valg bloodlink, Eileen’s court was a thorn in her side, and one she was determined to rip out and incinerate. Erawan had opened his mouth, intending to ask about her strange obsession with Eileen and Ronan’s romance, but he’d caught a glance of his bangs in the tableware and decided he had other priorities. A strand of hair was longer than the others in his otherwise immaculate bangs; Maeve, Eileen, and Ronan could wait. 

Anyway, the point was that Maeve was not doing great, but he was doing pretty great, and so the clear resolution to this was to go help her out. Which was why he was here, using his powers a few metres off the ground, skin bleeding wisps of shadow. His bangs flapped in the gentle breeze as he lead his army forward to meet Terrasen’s own, smirking as it registered on their puny faces that he himself was leading his forces. Shock, fear, horror, and resignation flitted across their tiny faces in quick succession, but still they raised their weapons and charged, foolish bravery etched into their bones. A slow grin spread across his face, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth, as black swallowed his eyes whole and he leapt forward. 

After a while, severing heads from bodies and tearing organs from beneath fragile skin got boring, and the spurt of blood from open wounds no longer gave him a similar rush of satisfaction. How easy it was to steal life from humans, to toss them aside like puppets with cut strings. He had lived thousands of their short lifetimes, and he would live thousands more.

“ERAWAN!”

A cry rang out through the battlefield, and he looked up,  brows raised, as he shoved aside the latest victim of his dark, blazing whips. And speaking of blazing, Eileen was making her way across the grass, stepping over the dead and dying bodies of her soldiers, twin flames surging from her upward-facing palms and casting warm light across her pale face. Sunlight gleamed off her gold armour, and a matching broadsword hung from her belt.

“Eileen.” He gave her a nod of acknowledgement, but she just stared, jaw dropping.

“Did you just call me Eileen?”

Erawan blinked, unimpressed. “That’s your name, so of course I did.”

She spluttered, flailing her hands around and sending tiny embers of glowing orange fluttering through the air. “I - my name is AeIin!” she snarled, baring her canines.

He gave her a long, hard stare. “I’m going to call you Eileen,” he announced. “Because you look like an Eileen.”

“AeIin!” A hawk came swooping down from the clouds and transformed into a man with short white hair and word-like tattoos sprawled across half his face, Eileen’s apparent name spilling from his lips. 

“Ah!” Erawan looked him up and down. “You must be Ronan.”

Ronan pressed two fingers into the inner corners of his eyes, just below his brow-bones, and ignored him. “AeIin - “

“I told you not to come, Rowan,” Eileen snapped. “This is between me and him.”

“Ronan can stay if he wants,” Erawan said. “The more the merrier. I’ve always enjoyed slaughtering Fae. Do you happen to have any friends you could bring along?”

“Rowan, I can do this,” Eileen said, staring deep into his eyes before surging up to meet him. Erawan averted his gaze as Ronan returned her action with equal fervour, coughing into his hand and whistling a tune, tapping his foot in time with the clashing of metal on metal and the haunting song of warfare that flooded from the still-raging battle.

When he turned back around, they were still going at it. With a growl of annoyance, he sent a snaking tendril of darkness and made it slap them away from each other. 

“Are you done?” he demanded. “Less making out, more taking out.”

Ronan looked torn, but finally turned back into a hawk and took off into the air, flapping his great wings and circling the battlefield before something caught his eye and he flew until he was only a small speck against a sea of blue. 

The glow of an approaching fireball made him look at Eileen’s face, twisted into a grimace of determination. He batted away the fireball, sending it careening into one of her own soldiers and grinning as the poor man was turned to ash, but she kept them coming - fireballs that shifted between red, orange, and yellow every time he blinked, massive walls of flame that engulfed the nearby area, since thankfully people had the sense to stay away, whips that mirrored his own favourite attack that tried to wind around his arms and lash out at his legs. 

When she jumped deftly over a rippling wave of night and curled her fingers, conjuring another fireball and flicking it at him, his hand rose to hit it away, like he had for all the others. But this one had been aimed higher than his chest, and his fingers skimmed through air. Instinct kicked in, sending him skidding to the side as the fireball just barely missed his head and continued through the air. Erawan breathed a sign of relief, hand reaching up to caress his bangs and summon good luck.

He knew something was wrong when he felt plain skin instead of the comfort of his bangs, lovely and golden and smooth as the finest silk. His gaze turned to the floor, where strands of hair floated to rest on the grass, burnt off by the fireball. He barely registered Eileen taking advantage of his momentous loss, but his powers kicked in, a shield springing up between them.

Erawan sank to his knees, touching his fingers to what was left of his poor, poor bangs. The colour had been swallowed by ashy black, and a thin line of smoke wafted from the debris, twisting and twirling in the air, mocking him. Eileen was still hammering away at his shield. His hand went back to his forehead, measuring the wideness, touching where the hair had been burnt off. He could feel the tight coils of agony scrape against his throat, against the writhing walls of his stomach, and all he could do was let it out.

Darkness erupted from him as he screamed, pouring out all his pain and grief and agony into the one sound, loud and high-pitched and thick with mourning. It did not go to attack Eileen, though she took cover beneath a cocoon of flames, nor any of her followers. Instead, it danced around the blood-stained field before coalescing into a ring of black, rotating in mid-air, a thin glowing sheen of white barely visible within. His magic, acting on its master’s inner thoughts, summoning the only people who might understand.

Aelia, Lyn, and Salty appeared, stepping out of the portal and descending to the ground, confusion apparent on their faces as they took in Eileen, blanketed in protective flames, to the battle that was in the process of resuming, to him, hunched on the ground and shaking.

“Erawan with bangs?” Lyn asked, prodding at his shoulder. Another tortured cry ripped itself from the crevices of his throat at the cruel reminder, and she jumped, exchanging concerned glances with her companions. “Uh, Erawan?”

“It’s gone,” he murmured, covering his massive forehead with his left palm. 

“What’s gone?” Salty asked with a frown, before realisation filled their eyes. “Oh no. It’s gone, isn’t it?”

“The bangs,” Aelia breathed, and winced as he howled yet again. “Okay, you can stop doing that now. How did it happen?”

“Her,” he whispered, limbs stiffening. “Her.” He pushed himself off the ground and extended a single trembling finger at Eileen, who extinguished her flames and blinked at the new arrivals and his fragile state.

“I didn’t do anything,” she said, embers flying from her fingertips in warning. “He’s trying to take over the world as we know it, I’m trying to stop him. I don’t know what lies he’s fed you, but it’s not true.”

Lyn waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “He hasn’t told us anything.” she said, “and he doesn’t need to. We already know what those in this world are doing with their lives, and I’m not a fan of either camp.”

“What?” Eileen’s brows shot up. “But I’m right! He’s literally an evil monster!”

Salty shrugged. “And you’re an annoying bitch who’s expressed take-over-the-world desires. I think both of you aren’t great. And I don’t really care.” Their expression hardened. “What I do, or did care about were those bangs. Those glorious, glorious bangs.”

“Always in our hearts,” Aelia said, resting her palm over her chest solemnly. “You will never be forgotten, bangs. We will remember you forever.”

Eileen sent a massive wall of flame at them, apparently losing her temper, but Lyn snapped her fingers and it disappeared. Eileen’s second attempt met the same fate, and then her third and fourth as well.

“You know, Erawan without bangs,” Aelia said.

“Yeah?” he replied, choking back a sob.

“I think we should give - wait, what’s this girl’s name? I thought it was AeIin.”

“No, it’s definitely Eileen.”

“Well, maybe we should give Eileen a little payback. You know, as a treat.”

A second later, he had strode over to where Eileen was desperately sending fireball after fireball at a cackling Lyn, his own night black flame cradled in his hand. She had no time to react before he’d coaxed it to leap through the air and onto the ends of her hair, crawling up the strands of gleaming blonde until her whole head was lit up, apart from the strands of hair that hung in front of her forehead. She screamed and writhed, but he had tendrils of shadow wrapped around her wrists and ankles, and more strips over her neck and chin, keeping her head immobilised. Within a minute, all her long hair had been eaten up, apart from the area he’d left untouched. She was almost completely bald, her hairless head shining like an egg.

“Here,” Salty said, handing him the pair of scissors he kept in his bedroom. “Don’t ask any questions.” He didn’t.

“Get away from me,” Eileen sobbed. “What are you doing, get away, get away!”

“You must face the consequences of your own actions,” Lyn declared, poking at Eileen’s pointed ears and looking very unimpressed. 

He balled up all his rage and grief at the loss of his bangs, steadied his hands, and began cutting. Eileen dissolved into a string of whimpers as he ruthlessly cut her the worst fringe he could imagine having, all ragged and crooked lines, with no layering to break up the monotonous fall of hair, almost covering her eyes. When the final chunk of blonde fell to the floor, he waved his hand, ensuring that no strand of hair outside of his ugly fringe would ever grow on Eileen’s head. Aelia, Lyn, and Salty then each placed a finger on the fringe and said what he assumed to be an ancient, esoteric spell from their own world, sealing it with flashes from their rectangles. I wonder what magical properties the word ‘fuck’ has, he thought. 

Once they had completed their spell, Erawan stepped back and waved away Eileen’s restraints. Aelia tossed her a mirror that he was almost sure came from his possessions as well, and they watched as Eileen ran quivering hands over her egg-like bald head, felt the fringe they’d left behind, and finally, looking like she’d rather be six feet beneath the earth, brought her face to the mirror.

Her ensuing scream of anguish was the most delightful thing he’d ever heard. He hummed the tune, the rising and falling in pitch and cracking of tone, as he grew himself a new pair of bangs the next morning.

[clairelutra]

How about Akirann for Monster/Monster Hunter/Monster Tamer AU?

send me an au for a short fic

full admission that i no longer have any idea what i’m doing

Being a vampire granted Akira a certain kind of immortality that was dead useful for monster hunting, but (perhaps understandably) something he didn’t really want spread around, especially among the clients that hired him to hunt, well. Monsters.

That meant trying to fake the song and dance of being very careful around the siren he’d been hired to put down.

Sirens were a subset of charm-witches, likely but not necessarily humanoid, who sang a deadly song to lure men to their deaths. Truly a terrifying prospect if you didn’t have magical immunity, or so he’d gathered from the the pale faces of the villagers who lived next to the inlet where she resided.

(There’s only been one casualty in the whole time she’d been here, which was making him doubt that this was a siren at all. It could also be a lost mermaid who liked to sing, a lonely river nymph, or even just an average copycat with bad luck. Hell, it could be a human for all the evidence the villagers were willing to part with.

Still. They were paying him. The commission he got would pay for his Phantom Thief guild membership for another year. His pride wasn’t above that.)

All this to say that it was with less trepidation that he maybe should have felt that he tracked the pretty tune that lurked at the edge of the glade down to the water’s edge

The target in question was classically seated naked on a rock, almost definitely a siren, and looking very lonely indeed as she swished her bare toes in the waves.

...Wasn’t he supposed to be immune to charm spells?

All he wanted to do was...

Mmmm, bad line of thought. He shook off the distraction and reached for his silver bullets, quietly loading his gun and cocking it at the siren.

She looked up sharply at the noise, locking slit golden eyes with his own grey, and he waited out that one suspended moment.

(Sirens never failed to surprise, and it had been far too long since he’d had a fight.)

Then she squawked, jumped, and flailed ungracefully until she crashed face first into the water, barely submerged in the shallows.

Akira slowly lowered the gun, bemused.

...Well.

He had said that sirens never failed to surprise.

She just laid there for a second, then lurched up and backwards, shooting one highly alarmed glance in his direction before scrambling behind the rock with a rather unstealthy series of splashes.

“Um, don’t shoot?” she squeaked once hidden.

He’d be honest here; he’d never met a siren who used ‘charmingly inept’ as a seduction tactic.

(It was working, though. He had to give her that.)

“Are you the siren that’s been haunting that village over there?”

“Um...” she said, and peeked around the rock. Her single visible eye had gone from gold to sky blue. “Kiiiind of? I-it’s a long story.”

“I was hired to exterminate you,” he informed her mildly. It was a much less appealing prospect than it had been before he’d heard her speak, but, well. Siren. That was the whole point. “You’ve been luring men to their deaths.”

“Oh, come on!” she snapped. Her head disappeared behind the rock again, this time with a scowl. “It was just one! And he deserved it!”

“Did he?” All the reports he’d heard of Baron Kamoshida had been glowing. Most were horrified and heartbroken that he was gone.

“My best friend. He ruined her. Death was too kind.”

It was spoken in the flat, hard tone of someone who’d run the question over in their mind many times and come to the same conclusion every repetition.

“...Touché.”

She sighed, sounding exhausted, then: “Oh! Maybe you’d know—is there any way to unbecome a siren? He’d already been after me, so charm spells seemed like the best way to get to him, but I didn’t realize I’d transform until after I drowned him.”

The scars Father Shido had left on his neck burned for a moment, then he said, “Afraid not.”

“Darn it.”

It was such a mild response for someone who’d been cursed with immortality that he blinked. Come to think of it, Kamoshida had only turned up as a corpse a couple of years ago, hadn’t he?

“...How old are you, again?”

“Uhh... well, I was sixteen, but it’s been kind of a while since then, y’know? I lost track. Can’t be too much older than that, though.” She paused. “Maybe I’m still sixteen.”

“Baron Kamoshida died two years ago,” he said, deadpan-flat.

“Oh!” A forehead, a pair of bright blue eyes, tangled blonde hair, and several fingers became visible over the top of the rock. “Then I’m eighteen... I think. Is it November yet?”

“Next month.”

“Seventeen,” she amended, then poked her whole head over the rock, apparently having forgot about the gun. “How old are you?”

“Around two hundred,” he said vaguely. Definitely closer to three hundred, but still technically two hundred-something. Probably. He should probably check on that.

“Wow...” Her eyes were wide as saucers.

Seventeen might technically be an adult for a human in these times, but...

Innocent.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he pulled the trigger here. He wasn’t even entirely sure he’d be able to live with himself if he walked away at all.

(If Sojiro hadn’t picked him up by the scruff and set him on his feet when he’d first been turned...)

He heaved a silent sigh, then started unloading his gun, clapping the bullets into his gloved palm and putting them back in their pouch. That done, he met her gaze and tilted his head in a gesture for her to come over.

She shrank down. “I’m not really dressed for company. Or dressed at all.”

I noticed. It was surprising that she cared about it, though.

...Though. Come to think of it, it would probably make sense that she was a bit body shy, given how new she was to the ‘siren’ business.

He shrugged off his coat and held it out to her, pointedly turning his head away.

It didn’t take much time at all for her to come out from behind the rock, much less warily than he might have expected, one arm clamped over her ample chest and the other absently hiding her crotch.

(In his defense, his peripheral vision was very good and he didn’t look any closer than what he was already seeing.

...Wasn’t his libido supposed to be dead too?)

She covered as much of herself up in his coat as she could, shooting him curious looks as he removed one of his more decorative belts to secure it around her waist.

“Don’t touch the pockets,” he instructed. There was a second part to that, something about there being dangerous things in there, but she was... much more distracting than he was used to dealing with, especially now that she was wearing his coat, and the words slipped away from him.

“So, uh... what are we doing?” she said, chill and curious and sounding like she’d be game for most of it, and suddenly he was very glad that he was the hunter who’d found her.

“Making you my apprentice,” he said, and reached inside his doublet for an empty phial.

“Appre-what?” then, “Meep!” as as he sank one of his fangs into his own wrist and caught the trail of blood in the vessel.

“Apprentice. It’s not good for a young fae to be on their own.” He put a cork in the phial and closed his fist around it—a tracking spell, a protection spell, a minor luck spell, a stealth spell... and that was about as much as he could imbue into an ounce of his own blood. “That’s how monsters are made.”

“Ohh...” she said, watching as he pulled out a cord and secured the charm. “Wait. What?!”

(Expressive. It was... nice.)

He looped the cord around her neck, looping it into a knot and casting another few spells making sure that it couldn’t be used to hurt her and couldn’t be removed until she was strong enough to remove it herself. Stronger than a basic durability spell and made sure she wouldn’t be stuck carrying him around forever if this didn’t work out and he was indisposed.

“They do things they shouldn’t because they don’t know better,” he explained absently. "So I’ll make sure you know better.”

“That’s pretty ominous.”

He shot her a dry look as he let go and gestured for her to follow him. “Don’t touch the shiny rocks. Don’t stand in bright places. Don’t eat anything that can talk.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay? ‘Shiny rocks’...? Is that, like, gemstones, or gold, or— hey wait, where are we going?”

‘Wouldn’t you like to know’ probably wouldn’t be the best thing to say here, would it. He decided on honesty instead: “First clothes, then to register you as my legal charge with the vampire queen, then get you a guild membership, then go take care of a chupacabra infestation in the lower reaches.”

“Chupacabra infe— that sounds kind of important!”

He frowned as he led the way back to the village, trees passing them by in silent vigil. “Does it?”

“Goats are some people’s livelihoods, y’know?” She sounded genuinely upset about this. “How long will the rest of this stuff take?”

“A couple of weeks...?” he said, surprised into seriousness.

“Their goats will all be dead by then!”

...Huh. They would, wouldn’t they.

Akira kept walking through the profound moment of realization that he didn’t spend nearly enough time around humans anymore.

“Okay, how about this: we get me some clothes, and then take care of the chupacabra infestation, and then do the other stuff.”

Innocent, expressive, and conscientious. He found himself half-smiling as he glanced over his shoulder. “Sounds good.”

She let out an ughhhh... of exasperated relief.

Maybe she wasn’t human anymore, but she was only two years out from it, not well over two hundred. Maybe he’d be getting more out of this apprenticeship than he’d thought.

---

They bought clothes from the village and then moved onto the southern reaches, collected chupacabra pelts for the client and then roasted the bodies so Akira could show his new protégé how to draw the life energy she needed out of them.

Then they headed back to the capital, where he had a conversation with the queen. She shouted a lot and then handed him the paperwork (good old Sae), and it was only when he was trying to fill it out that he realized he’d never asked for his new apprentice’s name.

Hm.

Sae didn’t shout at him for that, just gave him one of the most long-suffering looks he’d even seen and let him take the paperwork home.

(Lady Ann Takamaki of Shujin was his new apprentice, apparently—though he better knew her as a child of sunshine who had rapidly established herself as his lifeline.

Innocent, expressive, conscientious, and more human than not. All he had to do was glance at her to get a second opinion on his decisions, and that was coming in even more handy than he’d guessed it would.)

After that, it was a guild membership, then Igor telling him to go get Ann checked in with the sirens too or Philemon would get angry, and it was some point during that long, relentless search for Belladonna that Ann finally asked.

“So... why are you doing all this for me, anyway? What do you get out of it?”

“Company. Help with work. Moral support.”

“...Seriously?” she asked. On anyone else, it would have sounded at least a little bit flat, but with her there was only curiosity to be found. “Moral support?”

“Especially moral support.”

She was doing a stellar job at propping them up for him while he brushed away two hundred-odd years of dust and decay under her guidance.

She flopped back on her inn bed with a groan, a soft fwumph of fabric and a little grunt in her lungs, her scent swirling in little eddies around the room. “Well. You do you, I guess. Going to bed yet?”

“In a bit,” he said, instead of only if you join me, because he was pretty sure that would earn him a weird look that said he’d misstepped yet again.

He was learning!

“Okay,” she said, then yawned. “‘Night.”

“Goodnight.”

Silence, except for the rustling of bedclothes and mattress while Ann got comfortable, and then:

“And hey, Akira?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks. You really saved me. Literally.”

He glanced sideways, just enough to catch her soft smile amid a pool of blankets and blonde curls, and couldn’t help a little sigh. “...My pleasure.”

[phantomwitch16]

Real Dreams, Fake Compassion

Hey, this is a kind of snippet of what I wanted to do to do back when this I first came to me a few years ago. Back then, this was going to be a mix of the shows and series I was into at the time with my favourite character facing a lot of tough shit.

Now, the idea is very different, with the only series involved is Inazuma 11. This is the original post which I have edited, added and cut a lot out of it so I could fix the narrative. It might not be all that great, just to warn you. So it might be familiar to those have read it before back when I first posted this in 2020.

Also warning this has mention of self harm, depression, ptsd and some other dark subjects. You have been warned.

__________________________________________________

Blade ducked and jumped away from the man as an energy blast was shot at his head. He glanced back and growled under his breath. Dammit, he was almost hit. The energy field around him absorbed the attacks as he readied a blood-red energy orb that fit easily in his right fist.

Constable chuckled darkly as a golden-yellow orb that was about the size of melon forming in his hands." It's been a long time, boy. I see that despite your lack of training over the past year and a half now, you're still as agile and strong as I remember."

The former squire growled at the mention of his old title." What are you doing here, Constable?" he sneered, glaring up at the man." If I remembered correctly, you despised being here. It must be terrible if you of all people crawled out of Wonderland just to see little old me."

"I assure you, Blade, that I am here by the orders of the queen herself. There's a situation that has come up, and the queen needs our allies and men to return home." The older woman answered, and Blade's orb turned into a brighter shade of blue.

The boy rolled his eyes in disgust." Of course, there is. Why else would you show your face to me after everything that happened?"

Constable scoffed before he gave Blade a coy look and began walking over to him." Oh, come now, Blade. You've always known you were always my favourite."

Blade scoffed." Funny. I always assumed Midori was your favourite out of the two of us. Given how much time you spent with her, this kind of surprised me."

The man let out a laugh." You know I care more about results and precision. While she was strong, she lacked the necessary…skills and motivation to get those results like you did."

"Well, at least one of us will be leaving this life pleased." The boy muttered sarcastically, giving Constable a fake smile.

"If that's true, show me then, Knave." He growled, glaring at the young boy.

The two threw their orbs at each other, with there being a resulting explosion when they met.

“So before you went to the sleepover at Sorano’s house, a hole just appeared from under you and took you?” Tsurugi asked as he and Midori walked back from the school to Midori’s apartment complex.

Midori nodded.” Yep.”

“Then you were brought to this weird fairytale world where everyone there looked exactly like everyone that you knew, including us?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And for the three months you went missing, you were literally caught in the crossfire of some political disagreements, and the people there used you to sort out every petty fight that resulted in physical conflicts afterwards?”

The girl sighed.” Pretty much. I know it sounds stupid and unbelievable, but it’s true. I don’t have proof or anything, but please don’t look at me and call me crazy. I’ll already get enough of that back at home with my mom.”

“I’m not saying that your story isn’t true, senpai. Really, I kind of believe you.” The junior said, earning a perplexed look from Midori.” Look, given the fact that we know time travel exists and we’ve met aliens. I think the idea of another world connected to ours might not be so far fetched.”

She stared at him for a moment before she turned to look back down at the pavement.” That at least makes one of us.” She murmured.

Tsurugi looked up at her and gave her a confused look.” Senpai?”

“Ever since I came back, I thought everything was all a dream,” Midori admitted quietly, stopping in front of an alleyway with her friend stopping beside her.” In fact, I outright denied it. I thought I just got attacked at my house then got taken by weirdos for a few months before turning up in the alleyway. That my mind just made things up to cope with the trauma.”

“But ever since I came back, the memories…the trauma, it kept on coming back.” She said, shifting in her spot on the pavement.” Every night I would wake up from nightmares about that place. Whether it was on the battlefield or within the walls of the kingdom. And since then, something…somethings been happening to me. For a while now, somethings been holding me back, weighing me down to the point where I don’t have the energy to get my own bed my bed.”

She looked at her right hand, the white bandage that was wrapped securely around it, a dull pain pulsing under it.” And when I do…I feel so numb. It’s gone to the point where I get curious whether or not I can feel things anymore.”

With another sighed she looked back up, pushing the strands of hair out of her face with her bandaged hand.” The worst part is that I didn’t even notice how bad it was for me until Aoi and Akane talked to me about it. They told me that they knew something was up for a while and how they felt…long story short, I started looking at myself from a different perspective. Honestly, I can’t blame them for being concerned. I would’ve been, too, if the shoe was on the other foot. But I wonder if you and the others noticed too before they told me.”

Tsurugi did, in fact, notice. Everyone in the club has. Since she came back, Midori became quiet, reclusive and skittish. She became thinner, bags began to grow under her eyes, and her appearance became more dishevelled. It became the topic of concern when she returned to school. Especially since she started to get hurt more often.

But he didn’t say anything and just let her speak her mind.

He looked back up at him,” Then one day, my hand started to glow. The stuff in my room started floating in the air. That’s when I realised shit was real.” She said, pulling off the bandage to reveal a tender red burn mark on the back of her hand.

Tsurugi winced upon seeing it.” Is that alright?”

“Not at the moment. But it will be in a second.” She answered.

Without another word, her hand began to gleam bright blue. The junior watched in awe as the burn mark quickly began to fade away. Just as the wound finally heal there was a loud and sudden crash startled the two teens.

“What the hell was that?” Tsurugi exclaimed, looking down the street.

Midori looked around before her attention turned to the alleyway beside them. She stared down there intently for a moment before she spotted something. Then took off.

“Senpai! Wait!” Tsurugi exclaimed as he ran after she ran into the dark alleyway.

The girl kept her eyes trained to the shield, following the massive amounts of magic that practically flowed through the air. Then several meters in front of her was a clearing with Blade and Constable already there charging another attack. 

Midori’s heart stopped when she saw them. She didn’t know what surprised her more. Was it the familiar faces that haunted her dreams for over a year? Or was it the raw power she felt coursing their attacks?

There was another attack, making the girl jump back to see two orbs flying at the other. The two easily deflected them, with Constable put up her hand and absorbed orb while Blade dodged it.

The boy looked precisely like Tsurugi. From his pale skin, lanky figure, spikey dark blue hair and sharp golden eyes. He wore a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt with pieces of armour strapped to his left shoulder and knee caps, black pants and brown boots.

He wore regal white clothing that reminded Midori of European royalty with red and black accents. Meanwhile, the man with him looked like the spitting image of Sennguji Daigo.

Tsurugi quietly came up and hid behind the trees beside her. He doubletake when he saw the two in front of them. He turned to Midori with an expression of disbelief on his face and muttered to her.” Is that me and Mr Sennguji?”

Midori didn’t respond. She could only stare at the pair who had her attention, hearing little snippets of the conversation.

"You must obey me, Blade." Constable growled, holding out his left hand towards the boy as an animous yellow glow began to shimmer." This was the very deal your queen agreed to back when you first came under my wing. Now came along." He ordered, clenching her hand into a fist.

Blade loudly grunt, falling to his knees but didn't move any closer towards him. The woman's eyes narrowed again before she sighed loudly.

She made her way towards him and grabbed his chin, turning him to face her as she gives him a sympathetic look." Blade. I understand what you're feeling right now. I know that you hold a great deal of anger and rage towards the people in Wonderland and even me. Please, let me help make it up to you. Come back to Wonderland, fight with us to defeat the emperor and the warlords. Leave this pathetic world and help avenge Midori."

They stared at her before a chuckle left his lips before full-blown laughter began to echo the area. The two teenagers hiding behind the trees stared at him in shock, as did Warlock, who took several steps back away from him, taking a defensive stance.

"You think…" he said before letting out a small snort." You think I am going to help you avenge her?" Blade cackled as he turned his gaze up at the man. Blue sprouted up in his neck as he pushed himself back to his feet." You actually dare to try and persuade me to go back and help you!? After everything that we went through!? After all of the abuse you put us through for months, and you think that I will ever go back listening to you after she ended up dead?!"

Tsurugi paused in disbelief when they heard that word. Abuse, he thought before slowly turning his head to see Midori frozen, her eyes widened, and her mouth left open. 

Blade's hair began to darken as he slowly began to walk towards Constable, as animalistic features seeped into his face." Why do you need me? After all, you have dozens of more child soldiers. I’m sure you won’t mind using them as your weapons as you did with myself and Midori. I mean, you already used the same tactics as you did with her. So why don’t you just leave."

Memories of the acts she did while working under Constable came back in excruciating detail. The weight of the sword in her hands. The feeling of her jumping in the air, sword in hand. The loud screams of hundreds of soldiers ringing in her ears. Warm liquid flowing down her face and the image of a soldier losing the light in their eyes. The same look that he had when he was dying.

  Her vision began to obscure as her breath suddenly began to quicken. Something wet drop down on her cheeks.

“Oh, please, Blade, you know you and Midori were different compared to them,” Constable called out, pulling out a knife from his overcoat.” After all, the two of you are war heroes. You managed to save the kingdom from political disaster numerous times. I made you powerful.”

“Your masters were the very reason why we were in those political disasters in tha\e first place!”  the boy yelled, more fur growing around his neck.” There was so much damage to the political systems of the surrounding kingdoms and cities you had to kidnap someone powerful enough to fix those mistakes!”

Blade looked angry and ashamed with himself when he said that. Tsurugi watched on as horror grew on his face. Midori took in the emotional scene as her body leaned heavily against the wall for support.

After a moment of silence, they continued glaring at the nobleman in front of her." And look what happened to Midori. You broke her down until she was a shell of what she used to be before she was finally finished off. Now, unless you want to be flung into the ground, I would kindly suggest you leave and bring your trash with you." He said, throwing several trinkets on the ground in front of the man.

Constable sighed heavily before giving Blade a disdained look." Is that really why you refuse to help us? Your home? How pathetic. Now I see why the two of you were close. It was a shame that she died. You loved her.” He said, closing up the image and turned the boy.” I thought that having a close relationship with you would be beneficial. You two became the perfect weapons. I could've even taken over all of the kingdoms using both of you if I wanted to. But given the events that have transpired, it seems I was wrong.”

The man’s words again struck something in Midori. It was as if her entire world started to crumble around her.

What...what happened, she thought. Why...why was something like this happening again? No...no, this can't be real. This has got to be one of her delusions again, right? Right, she wasn't in some pocket dimension seeing these two people, she didn't see any weird landmarks from the top of her apartment building that wasn't there before, and she didn't meet that boy and his dog who looked so familiar to her. She was back in Inazuma Town, having an utterly everyday life. She didn't go down to a world of make-believe where she was poorly treated, forced to fight in an arm, part of a war where she had no-

A hand was placed on Midori's shoulder, bringing her back to reality. She turned around to see Tsurugi looking at her worriedly." Senpai. Are you okay?"

Midori stared at him for a brief moment before slowly shaking her head. Tears decorated her scarred face, leaving her eyes bloodshot and looking much paler than she was before.

Blade took a step back as Constable raised her hand a brought up an image of Midori in her battle uniform. She looked…so different. Her bangs were shorter, barely covering the dark bags under her eyes and the deadpan dark red orbs that were her eyes. A giant bandage was wrapped around the right side of her face. The short white dress, the armoured boots and even the leggings underneath the dress were blood. In Midori's armoured gloves was a sizeable bloody sword that was decorated in gemstones.

Something about her eyes didn't sit well with Midori. Whenever she would use magic, her eye colour would change from green to blue to yellow-orange and red depending on her emotional state or how much magic she was using. But her eyes...were never that dark. Her eye colours would've been very defined or bright. But her eyes in the image were a deep burgundy colour, almost black.

Blade gasped at the image before he turned to the man with a rage-filled looking in his eyes." You kept that!?"

Constable continued, staring at the image with a fond look in her eye." Of course, this was her first battle. I wanted to remember the moment. One of my proudest. My only regret with that girl is that I never made her complicit to me and me alone. Blanc and the others made her question her position, her loyalty and even sympathetic to our enemies. The only way I could get her to be utterly loyal to me was to make her believe that she had no one and returning to her world after everything that happened would lead to disastrous consequences. It's a shame. She could've done so much more than what she had already done."

The memories of her waking up with a bloody sword in her hand came back to light. She remembers the horror she felt as she found the body of an older man in front of her. She dropped the sword and covered her mouth, and turned to look away. Only she couldn't escape the sight…next to her were even more bodies, all with the duplicate slashes and stab wounds, all of them caused by the same sword.

"We have wasted enough time, Knave." Constable stated as the image disappeared and her magic return, her hands balling up into a fist, making the boy's body stiffen." Now, let's go back to the kingdom and win the war."

"…I should've known better…." Midori murmured, keeping her head low as she walked into the energy field. Her voice was so quiet and weak, it could break at any moment.

Blade and the Constable froze upon hearing that voice, then swiftly turned around to see Midori out of the trees staring at them. Tsurugi stayed back hidden by the foliage of the trees, giving the older woman an absolute disgusted look while Midori just stared at them with a poker face.

Then the reality and the weight of Constable's words sunk into them as they stared at the girl.

"Midori!" Constable exclaimed with a slight tremor in her voice, backtracking as he tried to act like he didn’t just confess his manipulative and outright abusive nature towards her and Blade. He turned to the girl, giving her the exact same smile she would give her back when she was back in the kingdom. His soldier…or, to be more precise, her puppet." You're here… you're alive! Thank goodness! I was just-!"

The man began to move towards the girl when a dark blue ball was flung past her shoulders, nearly hitting him on the left side of his face. He froze, hearing the explosion behind him as she took in the expression on her face and her body language. Her stature was relaxed, and her face devoid of any emotion. Only one arm was raised to send that attack. The essence of the magic she used was being lifted up into the air. Her face was covered by the shadow her bangs provided obscured her face.

However…he could make out the emotions she could see in the girl's eyes. Her eyes were bright red, reflecting the pure rage coursing through her veins.

Midori was known to get angered easily. Hell, there was more than one occasion where she would often show no mercy for anyone who dared to cross her. But now…this was different. It wasn't like the moments of rage they had faced before. This was pure and utter hatred...

"Just what?" she snapped, cutting him off." What were you saying? That Blanc was right about you? That for the months I was with you, you have been lying to me, manipulating me, using me as a tool and fucking up with my head while you forced my best friend to keep his mouth shut so that he couldn't help me? That the atrocities that I committed were all you? That I let you fucking use me to be your head soldier of the army, be the fucking cavalier of the war that you and those associates of yours started, so I get the blame for whatever bad shit happened."

The girl's short hair began to float above her head, making it look a little reminiscent of Gouenji's hair. But under the amount of hair, Tsurugi could see the scars hiding under the strands of her hair. His eyes widened when he saw the faded marks that began to glow through the fabric of her clothes. Just how many did she have!? How many did they give her?

They didn't need to speak to know what they were feeling. That the Midori standing in front of him wasn’t the girl he easily manipulated all those years ago. Right now, he saw the powerful soldier that he created. And honestly, she terrified them.

Constable gasped as Midori suddenly stood right in front of him, her eyes practically burning holes through her very soul. The girl grabbed the man's robes and pulled her face down to her level.

"I'm going to give you a little piece of advice now, Constable." The girl growled as her grip tightened around her robes." If you're going to go back to the kingdom and still pretend to actually give a shit about the people around you, that's fine. If you're going to go around parading your new status around your underlings and abuse it, go right ahead. But I will only say this once, so listen. Blanc and the others will know about everything soon. They will deal with the fallouts of their kingdom, with or without your precious weapons. They don't need Blade or me to solve it with violence. They never did."

Midori leaned in slightly, staring into the man's dark eyes with ." So if you dare consider coming back to the Upper Realms, putting my world in danger for whatever bullshit you have in store or to bring me back as your little puppet again, the last thing you will ever see will be my fist. Or better yet, my sword. Do us both a favour, stay the hell away."

The redhead let go of her robes, and the woman stumbled back, staring at the young girl who previously was another one of her prized soldiers. Constable's eyes narrowed as a portal opened underneath her, falling through without another word.

Midori stared at the place where Constable stood before she went back to her normal appearance. She took a deep breath. The adrenaline of the magic Midori used and the anger inside made her hands shake. She shuddered before turning to Blade, who just stood there staring at her. His hair returned to normal, and the marks were gone, but his entire body was shaking.

"You… you're real…right…?" He questioned as he fell to his knees, still holding up the girl's gaze." You're not a dream… you're not some illusion Constable is using to trick me, right?"

Blade shuddered before he began crying into his hands. Midori stared at him and nodded slowly before she walked over to him, bent down and gave him a hug. Blade melted into it, tightly gripping onto her uniform as she began rocking him in her arms as if she were to disappear if he were to let go of her.

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of DC: Week of September 11th, 1019

Best of this Week: Gotham City Monsters #1 - Steve Orlando, Amancay Nahuelpan, Trish Mulvihill and Tom Napolitano

Who wanted this?

Serious, this is a strange team of characters to put together for a story, but it’s so jarring in a way that it makes me really interested to see what their team dynamic is like. This book carries so much of a Universal Monster movie vibe while mixed in with the superheroics of comic books in a manner that it’s already caught my eye.

The book begins with several haunting establishing shots of Monstertown, one of the few neighborhoods in Gotham that is doing well under the control of Bane. These shots set the tone for what the story will be; a grimy, dark outing where the only light to be found is in the darkness. Naheulpan does such an amazing job capturing the essence of Gotham, while at the same time making things feel so...40s and 80s right before we’re introduced to our first hero, Andrew Bennett aka. I, Vampire.

Bennett, having been hunting down vampires that choose to spill the blood of innocents, dispatches a large group of evil vampires and learns of a new vampire king that’s soon to be restored to life. Bennett tears out the lead vampires heart and tries to drink his blood to kill him, but finds that his blood is poisonous to him. He then vows to kill their new leader no matter what. Within only a few pages Bennett is established as a noble vampire unlike some of his kin and those who were previously unaware of him are given all that they need to know about the man. His scene also feels very reminiscent of The Crow or Queen of the Damned in terms of style and color palette.

Soon after, we cut to a newly freed Waylon Jones who’s very excited to leave his past life as a criminal behind to carve out a new life in Monstertown, but sadly he knows that people will still only ever see him as Killer Croc. I can see that his arc will be all about redemption as he tries to make things in his life right after all of the turmoil he’s been forced to go through. Part of me wonders if he’ll ever learn about Roy Harper and his death at Sanctuary, given that he acted as Roy’s sponsor when the archer was getting off of heroin. He’s not seen again after his two pages which does suck quite a bit as I thought he would have a larger role starting out.

Things start to heat up as we run into the actual lead character of the story, Frankenstein, former Agent of SHADE. It has been quite some time since Frankenstein has been seen in any book, I think the last one he was in was a Valentine’s Day special from 2018. Before he is even shown, we see patrons of a local bar running in fear of the chaos that the undead one has wreaked in search of one of the last open cases SHADE had before Leviathan destroyed them. Frankenstein is not here to play games, holding the throat of a man infected with a disease that turns him into a bull-man.

Naheulpan draws this scene with the dourness that Frankenstein is often known for as Orlando scripts him to say that “in a far world you would live, but now more than ever… the world is not fair.” Napolitano’s letting also helps to make this scene even more saddening with Frankenstein’s shaky word balloons even if Frank himself is anything but. He lights the man on fire after smacking him upside the head with a bottle of ”Damn Fine Whiskey”, totally not Jack Daniels’, and watches as the creature tries to crawl away in fear and pain, terror in his burning eyes.

After this short excursion, we are introduced to our last few cast members in The Orca and Lady Clay, the latter of whom I had no clue existed. While I have limited experience with Orca as a character, mostly from Nightwing: Rebirth and the Injustice 2 tie-in comic, I know her story (and have an attraction, don’t judge me) and it’ll be interesting to see if Steve Orlando plays into the romance angle from the latter comic to give Croc the strong beau that he’s been missing since Enchantress was taken from him. Lady Clay, however, is new and exciting to me because she doesn’t know who she is anymore and finds solace in taking on the appearances of others like a Faceless Person. I’m very interested in whether or not she’ll betray the team for a sense of understanding from the main villain.

Throughout the book there had been murmurings of an opera going on in the city. This plays as the hook that will cause all of the plot to go full steam ahead in the next issue. While the crowd thinks they’re watching an amazing show, they are soon sacrificed to bring back Melmoth, an immortal whose blood was used to help in Frankenstein’s creation. Melmoth’s entire motivation is to continue being what he considers the “Last King.” He wants to subjugate all beneath his feet and will kill as many as he needs to do so, yet his followers see him as some sort of savior.

Gotham City Monsters succeeds as a story in the vein of the cheesy horror movies I liked to watch at a younger age. The stories and motivations given for each individual hero are simple, much like to protagonists of those old movies and gives this comic a nice monster movie team up feel. Naheulpan’s art is grim and made even better by Mulvihill’s gritty coloring and great use of dark inks for the moments that need shadows. For a first issue, this one was a blast and I absolutely cannot wait for the next one!

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

Runner Up: Wonder Woman #78 - G. Willow Wilson, Tom Derenick, Trevor Scott, Norm Rapmund, Romulo Fajardo Jr. and Pat Brosseau

Love is dead. Cheetah has killed her.

The fallout from Cheetah’s actions continue as Wonder Woman has lost her will to fight and is easily overpowered by her most deadly foe. Things begin in the most bleak way possible as illustrated by Tom Derenick. We cut back and forth from the immediate past to the current present as Cheetah wrests or destroys Wonder Woman’s armaments. 

Her sword is cut in half and her shield is demolished after swipes from Cheetah’s new Godkiller sword. Her tiara is broken and sent flying after a solid punch. The Lasso of Truth is snatched away as Cheetah mocks her, asking who is truly worthy. Even the Gauntlets of Submission are absolutely destroyed after being hit with the sword. 

Cheetah smiles with absolute glee as Diana is driven before her, helpless and unable to defeat her with her new and powerful weapon. She manages to escape into a nearby river and calls Atlantiades to help her. The demigoddess hears her call and with the help of Steve Trevor, they find Wonder Woman, broken and defeated without love.

Superman is commonly thought of as being the main hope in DC and there is a lot of merit to that, but at the same time, Wonder Woman is just as much of an inspiration to some if not more. She has almost never given up hope, even after killing Maxwell Lord in the past or losing her ability to see, hell even after fighting the Amazons after they invaded Man’s World she wasn’t at all fazed. Losing to Cheetah and feeling the crushing weight of the world on her shoulders now that she doesn’t have the hope of love to keep her head up high. It’s even worse when Steve Trevor is also suffering from this lack of love. Even while giving Diana a soothing bath for her injuries and trying to console her, his eyes are empty of the love they had and she can tell. 

Not only is love gone, but so is compassion as we see in a short scene shortly after the bath. A mail carrier on a bike accident hits a car and no one does anything to help him. It's telling that people just either drive around him or stand idly by seeing no reason to try to walk through traffic. We see even later on that people are far more willing to commit crime, especially after Lex has been offering people gifts and changing how they think, bringing out the darkness inside.

Eventually Wonder Woman is left with no other choice than to ask Veronica Cale for help. Veronica Cale, who has nothing but enmity for Wonder Woman, decides to help her as she doesn't even remember the feeling of dread that she had when her daughter was trapped in Themyscira and see this as an opportunity to show the Gods that mortals can see what they cannot.

In a way, Cale and Cheetah are similar in that regard. They have nothing but hate for the Gods and Wonder Woman and will do everything they can to tear them down, Cale with wit and guile and Cheetah with pure rage. 

G. Willow Wilson is absolute bringing out the bloodlust from Cheetah that we haven't seen in some time and is making her a pretty credible threat. If her trajectory continues the way that it jas, then there's no doubt in my mind that this entire run of Wonder Woman will end in one of their deaths and that is exciting.

[mathiaskillmaster]

Rebirth of the Dragon (After GOT / Daenerys Targaryen) Part 6

Westeros, Winterfell Although summer had fallen, temperatures in the independent kingdom of north had remained rather low, although the snow had disappeared to give way to the green heaths and coniferous forests rocked by the wind. In Winterfell, capital of the northern kingdom, life had resumed and gradually recovered from the terrible battle that had taken place against the Night King and his army of the dead, now a threat from the past. In the courtyard of the castle, servants and other occupants were engaged in their daily tasks, while patrol guards proceeded to their usual rounds. Standing in front of the big fireplace in her personal office, the young queen in the north, Sansa Stark, dressed in her big black dress and her warmly fur-covered shoulders, was pacing, circling, her hands behind her back, and seemed to be waiting, looking moribund. On her desk, among the many documents, was a letter whose seal, that of the hand of the king, had been broken. Sansa had read the letter sent recently by Tyrion Lannister, and what she had read there had more than disconcerted her. Daenerys Targaryen is .... alive? Just thinking about it made her shudder again. Just the idea that she can return to Winterfell on the back of her dragon to seek revenge. Despite having archers, Sansa did not know if all of Winterfell's garrison, no matter how large, would be sufficient in the face of the devastating anger of an adult dragon who had proven himself capable of destroying an entire fleet of war ships and ravaged half of King's Landing. Sansa did not know what her brother Bran was going to do about it, but knowing that her kingdom no longer depended on the king's orders, she decided to do something for her. She would not take the risk of seeing Winterfell and the north be burned to the ground if she could stop it before it happen. Returning to her desk, Sansa took her pen, dipped it in ink and began writing a missive. She had heard from her sister Arya about the existence of this sect of dreadful assassins at Braavos. ********* Essos, approaching Asshai The end of the journey was approaching for the ironborn ship which had been flying on the sea for almost a month now from Volantis. Already, the first signs of Asshai's approach were noticeable. The waters, usually of a natural blue, had gradually faded to become dark, gray and opaque. Glancing over the rail, Yara shivered. She, who had participated in many expeditions at sea, showed for the first time a little doubtful. Sometimes she could see weird fishes, phosphorescent, appearing and disappearing like ghosts under the surface. She dared not imagine what kinds of creatures could haunt these waters. A thicker mist had risen, snaking over the surface of the water like snakes of smoke. In order to avoid any risk, Yara had reduced the wing, the ship now slipping more slowly in these sinister waters of the end of the world. On the deck, the ironborn sailors had lost their proud and harsh airs, and could not prevent the doubt from expressing themselves on their faces, although the unsullied and the soldiers of the Fiery hand remain strangely calm despite the macabre atmosphere. Among the most superstitious sailors, some came to dread that the ship would reach the end of the world and fall into the great void. Others were convinced that these black, silent waters would eventually lead them into the other world. An ironborn, scared to death, swore on his head that he had heard a disembodied woman's voice whispering his name from the depths of the mist, and even felt an icy breath on his neck. The poor fellow, yet a strong fellow, was found hidden in the bottom of the hold, curled up and shaking like a scared little girl. Daenerys had been forced to stay in her cabin for a good part of the day. For several days now, she had felt more and more tired, despite the nights of rest she was able to take, and also felt, more and more regularly, some sharp pains in her stomach. She could hardly eat, but had to force herself anyway not to lose her strength. Navigating in these haunted waters did not help her much, she too, sometimes having the impression of hearing whispers calling her and hearing something like nails scratching behind the window of her cabin, whose window was now completely fogged. Two nights before, Daenerys had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming in terror so loudly that she had woken up the entire crew, and had been found by Yara and Grey Worm, trembling, tears in her eyes and sweat in her bed. Daenerys had explained to them that she had been awakened by a strange noise in her cabin, and as she opened her eyes, she had seen Jon Snow, standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her with a furious gaze. He had jumped on her, taking a dagger at his belt, blocking her on the bed by grabbing her to the throat and trying to stab her in the stomach, vociferating with a degenerate voice. _ "You should be dead! DEAD, YOU HEAR ME?!" _ "NOOOO JON, STOP! LEAVE ME!!" His voice was his own, but monstrous, and blood began to flow from his eyes, as Dany described, still in shock. She had screamed, struggled with all her strength, but after opening her eyes, Jon had disappeared without leaving any traces. Kinvara explained to Daenerys that the waters surrounding Asshai were filled with the most ancient and obscure magic, and that these forces haunting it take pleasure in tormenting sailors and adventurers daring to venture there, guessing and giving life to their the deepest fear into more than realistic illusions. As a result, Daenerys slept only during the day, and at night remained awake and in the company of a soldier from the Fiery Hand appointed by the priestess to watch over her. Although they are not talkative, she felt reassured to not be alone in her cabin. Face digged by fatigue, Daenerys was lying in bed in her white silk night dress. Kinvara was with her, the priestess sitting beside her on the bed, and examining her to make sure everything was all right. For Kinvara, there was no sign of illness or poisoning of any kind by food or water. Kinvara thought for a moment, turning her attention to Daenerys' aching belly. And if .... a hypothesis crossed her mind and she wanted to check. Delicately placing the palm of her hand on Daenerys's belly, Kinvara seemed to be examining more. Daenerys watched her, quite concerned. After long minutes, Kinvara changed her attitude, her shining irises showing a truth that had just appeared to her, and which seemed to satisfy her. _"Lady Kinvara, what's going on?" Daenerys asked her emphatically. _ "Daenerys stomrborn ...... you are pregnant." the priestess of R'hllor then revealed to her in all honesty. This news fell on the young woman like a flash, making her heart leap in her chest. _ "What ... how .... you .... are you sure and certain?" Daenerys really insisted on this, looking at her belly in turn and feeling it delicately. The priestess was formal and nodded. The young Targaryen was pregnant. Daenerys was more than confused. _ "But ... it's impossible ..." she said with conviction "... I could no longer have children, at least not be able to give birth, because of this witch ..... "and suddenly she froze, remembering to have shared her bed with a particular man, the one who before her, was brought back from the dead by the magic of R'hllor: Jon Snow, the man who had killed her. "... Jon ..." she sighed painfully, a tear pouring down one of her cheeks. "... But .... he killed me .... how can I still be pregnant?" The young fallen queen could not understand anything, but Kinvara made it her duty to explain her, taking her hands in hers. _ "This is the great power that our master has ..." explains the priestess "... his purifying fire not only brought you back, Daenerys stormborn, but also saved the life of this young soul who grows up inside your belly, for such is his will. Rejoice, your grace, that the Lord of light has given you such a miracle. A child born from the union of ice and fire." Ice and fire ..... Did she mention Jon and Daenerys through this symbolic definition? Was it true? After all, Jon had been brought back by the red god too. Jon, through this resurrection, had he been granted by the god the power to free Daenerys from her curse by unite to her? But in that case, why did Jon killed her? Was it also the plan of the red god? Once again, everything was very confusing. She wanted to rejoice, of course, she who for years had thought herself condemned to remain last and see her dynasty disappear with her. But on the other hand, the idea of ​​carrying this child, Jon's, plunged her into a terrible melancholy, and made her relive for a few moments that awful illusion of Jon leaning over her and trying to kill her. How could she look this child in the eyes without thinking of Jon and what he had done to her? No, she dismissed this idea from her mind. It was out of the question for her to judge her future child for the crime committed by his father towards her. She would no longer act like that, she had sworn. ******** Elsewhere on the ship, Shen-zoan had isolated himself in the small corner of the hold that had chosen him to settle during the journey. Although he was offered a more comfortable place to sleep, a simple hanging hammock suited him perfectly. As he had said, after sleeping at the bottom of a well and in a wet cave in the middle of winter, this hammock was for him like the room of a palace. The Yi Ti traveler did not sleep, however. Sitting on the floor of the ship, he was leaning over a wooden box that served as a temporary table, on which he had placed a large sheet of parchment and lit with only a single candle placed beside him. Yara, after reassuring her sailors, had come down to the hold to check that everything was going well and made her way to Shen. Looking over his shoulder without saying a word, she could see the strange letters he had been writing in black ink for a while, like symbols she had never seen before. Shen looked over his shoulder and smiled at him. _"What is it?" she asked, rather intrigued. _ "Oh, that .... it's a poem from my country, in my native language .... I like to write .... it helps me to never forget where I come from." was his answer, shrouded in a touch of nostalgia in his voice. Yara sat next to him, reading the symbols one by one even though she did not understand any of them. The fine line of the pen and the perfectly asymmetrical forms of the letters were almost like art. How was he managed to write with this precision despite the slight pitching of the ship? Shen did not stop surprising. Just yesterday, during the meal, Yara and the others could see him eating with small wooden sticks, which caused the hilarity of some sailors a little morons. Despite such mockery, however, Shen remained very calm, not offended, and simply continued his meal. Daenerys did not really appreciated the mockery about the newcomer and asked Yara to seriously reprimand the men, which she did. In this new free world that would become Essos by her will, Daenerys would also advocate freedom and tolerance of cultures. As he continued to write with that delicacy and astounding precision, Yara stared at Shen's fighting stick for a moment. _ "Your way of fighting ..... how do you do it? Who taught you?" she asked. She then perceived, in Shen's expression, that she had touched a new chord of his past, but yet made him smile. Placing his pen, he decided to tell Yara some of his past. _"All my knowledge, I owe it to my master, Dzian-owan. When he was a child, Master Dzian was puny, shy, constantly persecuted by other children. He was the son of a former soldier, a very hard man, who kept on telling him that the weak had no place in this world. But Dzian refused to brandish a weapon, the idea was repugnant to him, so he decided to create his own way of fighting. At the age of 15, following the death of his father and now alone, Dzian exiled himself to the lands of the north, beyond the plains of Jogos Nhai, where he lived as an hermit. During all these years, Master Dzian developed his new art of combat, the art of fighting without giving death, spending days and nights, training in all weathers. In the wind, the rain, the snow of winter and the overwhelming heat of summer...He added to his art of combat the meditation, and he managed to do so, after spending ten days and ten nights meditating under an old willow, to the perfect union of the mastery of his art, unifying combat and concentration in one and same body, one and same soul. Then one day, while he was looking for wild grasses, he found me in a wicker basket on the edge of a river. I was still a baby, abandoned by my parents and delivered to the wilderness. Having pity, he gathered me and raised me as his own son. When I was old enough to understand, he taught me his art, imposing on me the same conditions, the same trials and the same suffering that he himself had to endure in order to form himself to face this world. He always told me: The characteristic of the warrior is humility. He must think as much about others as about himself. There are strong and weak people in this world, Shen, and it is the duty of the weakest to become stronger, to prove to them this: if you can, they can too. I swore to my master to perpetrate his art wherever I go, and to become an example to the poor. Shortly after, my venerable master died without suffering, in his sleep, carried away by his old age. After having buried him with dignity at the foot of the ancient willow, where he had spent most of his life, I began my journey around the world ..... " Yara had remained silent, having listened to everything in this story. She noticed Shen's wet eye as he recounted, reliving through his words what were the best memories of his life. Abandoned from birth, raised by a stranger who trained him to become a good person. Yara was rather touched by this story and patted the man's shoulder. _"Your master seemed to be a very good man, Shen-zoan, and a great warrior too. I would have love to know him." Yara said frankly. _ "He would appreciate you, I think." Shen replied, "he has always admired women with a strong character, just like you." Yara felt rather flattered by the compliment and both together shared a small laugh. However, Yara's face darkened, looking pensive, and Shen noticed it. _ "Something is disturbing you." _ "It's about Queen Daenerys ..." Yara said without keeping a secret for her new friend "... according to Lady Kinvara, she would be pregnant." _"Well, I do not see how that would be bad news." Shen answered without really knowing why she was showing that worried look. _ "I know ..." she said "... that's not the problem. I'm just worried about her and the baby. When those who killed her will learn that she's alive, I don't think that the life of a mere baby to be born will stop them in their attempt to eliminate her again.They will not take the risk of seeing her return to Westeros with her dragon and a new army to get revenge." Shen-zoan fully understood what Yara meant and reassured her by patting her on the back of her hand. _"We will do what it takes to protect her, because that is the oath we have spoken." _ "PORT OF ASSHAI RIGHT BEFORE!!" suddenly shouted the voice of a ironborn sailor from the deck of the ship. Alerted, Yara, followed by Shen, went back up. Daenerys, also warned by voice, came out of her cabin with Lady Kinvara, covering her shoulders with a purple silk shawl. Grey Worm has advanced to the bow to see the facts. In the misty sky, Drogon's roaring figure appeared, sliding between the clouds like a giant ghost. In front of the ship reducing her sail a little more, the opaque mists of a dark gray dissipated more and more, revealing to the eyes of all in the permanent twilight of these accursed waters and in the light of the full moon, the forms recognizable of fuzzy towers and other strange buildings, all built of black stone. Daenerys swallowed, but remained upright, her head high, while in front of her, came from the fog the legendary and mysterious city from the deep of the world, Asshai, emerging little by little from the mist like the monster coming from a horror tale. Faced with this vision seeming straight out of a nightmare, the sailors remained speechless, eyes round, and some even began to pray the drowned god to protect them. _ "Welcome to Asshai, Daenerys stormborn." proclaimed Lady Kinvara to the young dragon queen. Finally. She was there, supported by her allies and her son, ready to face the new trials of the red god.

[amandaoftherosemire]

Sing For Me - Chapter Thirty-eight

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OFC (Sasha)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC Sasha, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, OFC Zoe, OFC Kat, OFC Maddie, Princess Shuri

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2290

Format: Series (Complete)

Warning: Language, angst.

Summary: Sasha searches for a way out.

A/N: Not consistent with Marvel canon. This would have been up last week but another of my fics wouldn’t stop screaming in my brain to let me finish it. At least I was writing something. :D

Banner by: @hellzzzbelle

Sing For Me Masterlist

Chapter Thirty-seven here

Chapter Thirty-eight

Sasha was thoroughly lost. Which was weird and annoying since she was almost certain these woods were the same as those behind Caleb’s grandparents’ house. From time to time, however, the look of a gnarled tree or a moss-covered rock would send a chill down her spine, reminding her of the forest that surrounded Morozov’s compound.

If she managed to get out of this, she was going to have to confront the destruction of said compound, if for no other reason than to deal with the part of her that still lived in terror. Besides, she’d promised to dance the mambo on the ashes of everything Valentin had built. She needed to set a good example for Zoe about keeping one’s word, after all.

She couldn’t be sure if she had been stamping through these woods for twenty minutes or twenty days, the light remaining the same midday gloom of a thickly overcast day, but she was almost positive she was walking in circles. Since she wasn't certain this experience was completely subjective, she didn't know if it was something symbolic representing some aspect of her psyche, or if she was… still?... somewhere else…

Sasha stopped to examine the tree she was certain she’d passed three times already. It was big enough around that it would take another four of her to surround it and rose over a hundred feet in the air. She'd narrowed her eyes at it the second time she'd seen it, but she couldn't be sure it necessarily meant anything, so she'd kept moving. Now that she was sure she'd seen it more than once, it could only mean she was meant to pay attention.

“Do you think you’ll ever be free of me, dorogaya moya?" The voice was smooth with a faint Russian accent and a hint of menace. The sound sent a shiver down her spine, but she answered as she always had.

"Ugh! With this shit again!?" Sasha threw her arms up in the air as she spun to confront the blue-eyed monster in a bespoke suit that still haunted her nightmares.

Valentin Morozov stood a few feet away and smiled in the same way a shark does moments before devouring its prey. “A part of you will always belong to me, Alexandra.”

Just as Valentin spoke the hated name, Sasha thought she heard the flutes and strings that came with the pretty, playful azure breeze. She flicked the back of her hand at him as she looked around and strained to catch which direction it was coming from. “Can you shut up? I’m trying to hear.”

Valentin continued with his now familiar refrain. Sasha had heard these words in her nightmares more times than in reality at this point. “I’ll always be here, Alexandra. I’m part of you now.”

“You’re just the worst, Val. You know that, right?” She was barely paying attention to her own personal boogeyman as she could swear she heard her name amongst the happy woodwinds and melancholy strings and hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking. “You’re like Hannibal Lecter without the charm or intelligence or social polish.”

“All that fire, solnyshko,” Val moved in, his hand reaching out to touch her, something she’d swore to never again allow, even in dreams, “and you waste it on— “

“Shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth.” Sasha didn’t even look at the man who’d tortured and scarred her inside and out as she placed the tip of the sword she still held at his throat. Her face colder than his reptilian eyes, she scanned her surroundings for the little breeze she could hear but not see.

“Al—” Val opened his mouth to speak, but only the first syllable escaped before Sasha was spinning the sword and plunging it into his chest. His face mirrored the same astonishment he had worn at his actual death as he stared down at the blade and the blood that soaked his pristine white shirt around it.

Sasha sounded almost bored as she spoke. “I’ll kill you as many times as I need to, in whatever ways I have to. You cannot win because you’re nothing but a bad memory. And my name is Sasha.”

With a disdainful yank, she pulled the sword from Valentin’s chest to let him fall to the ground. "Asshole." At least she now knew she was trapped inside her own mind. Val was her monster; he only haunted her dreams now. If he was here, she had to be unconscious.

Once Valentin was no longer distracting her, Sasha realized the giant tree she stood staring up at glowed a gentle golden hue and resonated with the song that rode the wind through its branches. Circling the enormous cedar, she was able to pinpoint the direction the song was coming from. Hefting the sword back over her shoulder in case Val made another appearance, she took off at a trot to wherever Zoe was leading.

Over what felt like the next hour, she followed the song at a jog, trying and failing to determine whether it was getting louder, until she came upon another of those glowing golden cedars. She was certain it wasn’t the same tree; this one was shorter but bigger around. As she came near, she became certain the song was louder.

Reaching out, Sasha placed her hand against the surprisingly cool, rough bark. As soon as her palm made contact, a rush of rose-gold power blew through her like light and for the first time in months, she could feel the people around her.

Zoe was closest, her fear and desperation accompanied by the whisper of her thoughts, calling across the void, exhorting Sasha to stop being such a drama queen and get up already.

Next was a song both familiar and not, a tangled mass of fear and defiance. Over and through that tangle, however, sang a melody of joyous, unconditional devotion. Sasha had her suspicions about the source of that song, as well as a deep curiosity as to the inspiration of such adoration.

Under it all was the song Sasha was searching for and once she found it, the pull towards it was too great to resist. Not that she tried. With a happy whoop, she took off into the forest at a run, following both the pull and Zoe’s song.

As she ran, ducking under branches and leaping over fallen logs, Zoe’s voice got louder and louder as long as she continued to follow the magnetic pull towards what felt like her own polar star. She could no longer understand the words now that she was on the move, but the impatience came through loud and clear.

Sasha was chuckling to herself at the sensation when she burst through the line of trees to find herself in a clearing dominated by the biggest tree she’d ever seen. Rising hundreds upon hundreds of feet into the sky and at least a hundred feet in diameter, Sasha was sure such a thing couldn’t exist in reality.

Aside from its size, it also shone golden, a stream of rose-gold light spearing into the blue-silver clouds that swirled and churned around it. Tilting her head as far back as she could, she saw a twinkling of rich cerulean far, far up, somehow shimmering with impatience.

“Well, shit.” Sasha stood several yards back looking up, trying to see the top of the tree she was now sure she’d have to climb. Her heart failing her a little— she was so, so tired— she strode forward to place her hand on the reddish-brown bark.

This time she didn’t even have to make contact before the rush of light was moving through her. The little blue twinkle came clearer as she was engulfed by the pleasantly warm golden glow streaming from every crack in the bark.

Sasha chuckled as she determined that it was indeed her little sister pumping all that impatience into the air but sobered quickly when she felt Zoe’s sick dread and wracking guilt. Instinctively, and as though she’d never lost it, she reached out with her power, sending reassurance, wry affection, and absolute confidence out through her palm and into the tree.

She was certain she knew what to do now, though she couldn’t explain how. It was simply a matter of doing it. Getting shit done had never been a problem for Sasha.

Less than a second later, she felt Zoe respond to her push of emotion with elation and excitement. She could nearly see the pretty blue-green twinkle flitting around the top of the tree, the feeling came through so clearly.

Exhausted all the way to her bones, Sasha half-chuckled, half-sighed as she rested her forehead on the trunk next to where her hand still lay. It was then she noted that the tree felt nothing like the bark and wood it appeared to be; it was paradoxically hard as stone yet as malleable as clay.

Simply sighing this time, feeling a little defeated before she began but unwilling to wait, she pressed her fingers into the bark, the wood collapsing inward under the pressure to make a perfect handhold. “Not really a climbing tree, but okay.” Lifting her other hand over her head and pushing her toes in, she began the ascent.

At first, she stopped as often as there was a branch capable of supporting her weight, resting with her back to the trunk and trying not to fall. She didn’t know that it would matter, or if it would kill her, so she opted not to find out.

Before long, however, she was climbing faster and resting less often; a slow but steady surge of energy bearing an odd, unfamiliar familiarity poured into Sasha from the tree and its revitalizing gold light. The higher she climbed, the more tumultuous the winds that buffeted both the tree and Sasha.

Sasha was not complaining, however. She’d always been a fan of storms, of wild winds and purifying cloudbursts, and this was a storm meant for her. She could feel it as the gale lifted the tangled hair at the nape of her neck and whispered across her skin.

Hours, possibly days later, her foot planted firmly on the last branch that could hold her, she pulled herself finally to the top of a tree tall enough that its existence as an obstacle had come to feel like she was being insulted. She couldn't figure out what the hell her brain was up to.

She wrapped her arm around the tree trunk and leaned out as far as she could, shaking her hair back to toss and tumble in the wind. Like cool fingers combing through the tangled locks, it both soothed and excited.

The little azure twinkle had been chuckling and swirling, obviously trying both encouragement and taunts to motivate Sasha on. Filled nearly to bursting with that warm golden light, she’d hardly needed to breathe through the last stretch, so the encouragement endeared while the taunts amused.

Once she’d reached the top, however, the pretty aquamarine light had moved out into the whirling, arctic gale and shimmied up and down as though to lure Sasha closer. She watched the little star in consternation, utterly baffled as to why her sister seemed to want her to jump.

The twinkle suddenly dipped, drawing Sasha’s eyes downward and making her stomach pitch at the sight of the ground far below. Despite the overwhelming urge to close her eyes in response to her spinning head, she kept them open and trained on her guide. Because of that absolute trust, she noticed the swirl of blue and silver mist that streamed upward in an unbroken spiral. The current was within leaping distance, but only if she didn’t hesitate or hold back.

Sasha didn’t give herself time to think or second guess. Running down the length of the branch with the same poise she’d once used on the dance floor, she leapt into the air. She pushed off with as much power as she possessed, her body an arrow aiming for the eddy of air she believed absolutely would carry her home.

For a moment, as she reached the apex of her arc and began the plummet to the earth below, her stomach dipped and her heart failed.

In the next, a cool and oddly firm gust of wind caught her and threw her higher than she’d ever been before.

Never should have doubted you. The first thing to run through Sasha’s head as she regained consciousness was directly related to the first thing she noticed, the cool metal against the fire in the back of her neck.

“—op acting like you’re the only one who’s thinking about what’s best for Zoe, Steve.”

Sasha didn’t open her eyes right away, the simple sensation of being genuinely conscious overwhelming enough. The weight of her own body was almost more than she could bear now that she could actually feel it. Though everything she’d experienced had felt utterly real in the moment, now that she was awake, much of it seemed to fade away.

“I cannot believe you’re thinking about letting her try this!”

Sasha didn’t need to hear any more to know she didn't want to. “If you guys are going to fight—” The rasp of her voice, rusty with disuse, had every eye snapping in her direction. She kept her eyes closed, not ready to endure the light yet, but she smirked. “—can you at least take your shirts off?” She gingerly pried her eyes apart to grin tiredly, but with a slow, cheeky wink, at a gaping Bucky, who stared thunderstruck, silent in disbelief. “No reason the rest of us shouldn’t get a show.”

Chapter Thirty-nine here

Taglist:

@marvel-lucy @cheekygeek05 @lbouvet @lovely-geek @wantingtobekorra @diinofayce @ashesandfire @suz-123 @theresaskankinmyboot @ddysis @caplansteverogers @getbuckylucky @california-grown @rnr1274 @capandbuck @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @magellan-88 @mizzzpink @curiositywillbethedeathofmee @colie87 @bibliophile1773 @henrietteoaks @hellzzzbelle @same--old-shit @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @rishlo @eyesfixedonthesun22