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epic-sorcerer · 4 years

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Merlin would have been so much more gay if the writers stayed true to Celtic paganism(the historicaly accurate “old religion”)

Trigger warnings:

Main triggers: talk of sex, homophobia, religion, Catholics, colonization, anti Celtic, murder

Mention triggers: rape and sexual assault, creepy men, gore, insest, toxic masculinity

I will mark the sections with quick triggers with 2 red lines. Below the second one is when the trigger is gone.

_____________

I am posting this on December 21st, as today is the Winter Solstice, a Celtic Pagan holiday. It will be posted at 3:33 PM, as 3 is a sacred number among the celts. Because of the special occasion, I will be speaking on a subject that was important to many of them—homosexuality.

Some stuff first for introductions. Yes, yes, I know this may be boring but it helps with context. This religion didn’t have a name other than Celtic pagan or Celtic religion bc it seams everyone there believed it. This was until the Roman Empire concurred what is now the UK. Since Rome had adopted Christianity—more specifically, Roman Catholocism—they only allowed that religion to be practiced.

———(genocide)——

Once England was concurred in 43 A.D, the pagans were killed and their religion was surpressed. Not much is known about the pagans for this reason. However, we do know somethings from what the Romans have written down. Although, it is biased, as they believed the celts to be barbaric and also didn’t wright much about women.

——gore ——

First, we know they preformed human sacrifice on kings when the kingdom suffered along with some other groups.This could be from bad ruling to really bad weather. These kings died horribly, as they seamed to be stabbed multiple times, had thier nipples cut off, and left to die in a bog.

They had thier nipples cut off because the subjects would suck on the kings’ nipples to demonstrate submission, so cutting them off would fully dethrone the king.

—————

Now, background over. Here’s where it gets good.

Nipple sucking between too lovers or ‘special friends’ was seen as a preclemation of love, physical intimacy, and sexual expression. This, like other types of sex, was seen as something beutiful and sacred. Often, male soldiers would have these ‘special friend’ relationships with many fellow soldiers in groups. The Romans even observed that Celtic men seamed to prefer other males for love/sexual interest over women.

Nipple sucking was mostly described was between two men. Although, we must recognize that women may have been left out of written history. I would also like to point out, this may prove that aromantic people existed in that time, as these ‘special friends’ had sex and were not mentioned to be romantically involved.

The celts were known for their sex positivity and even eroticism because they loved it so much.This is one of the reasons why the pagans and the Chatholics clashed so badly.

Before the Romans really took over, Saint Patrick—yes, the Saint Patrick—started to try to convert the celts into Roman catholosim. He was appalled at the wide acceptance of polyamory(women were aloud to marry however many people they wanted) and homosexual relationships/marriages. Not to mention the celts could have sex with any one at any time as long as it is consensual.

——(Tw creepy men)——

That means no waiting til marriage, unless a Celtic chose to do so. Although we should take into consideration a statement made by Diodorus Siculus, an antient Greek historian, that “the young men will offer themselves to strangers and are insulted if the offer is refused.” In his series Bibliotheca historica. This could mean that either creepy men were comman place, or that homosexuality was so comman and done with everyone, it was wierd to be rejected.

————

Getting back to the Roman Catholics, the book Sextus Empiricus is published in the early 3th century and states,

“...amongst the Persians it is the habit to indulge in intercourse with males, but amongst the Romans it is forbidden by law to do so...”

It also goes on to say,

“...amongst us sodomy is regarded as shameful or rather illegal, but by the Germanic they say, it is not looked on as shameful but as a customary thing.”

For clarification, Germany is apart of Celtic society. So what we can infer is a very serious culture shock in terms of Rome and other places. During Emporor Serverus Alexander’s reign, openly homosexuals were deported.

In early 4th century, Emporor Constaine—the first Christian Roman Emperor—destroyed an Egyptian temple populated exclusively by femme, gay, pagan, priests. The Emproror then went on to eradicate all of them. However in 337 A.D., 3 emperors ruled, including Constantius II and Constans I, who where both in mlm relationships.

An odd thing these emporors went on to do was criminalize male bottoming during mlw sex 342 A.D.. 8 years later, Emperors Valentinian II, Theodosius I, and Arcadius ferther punished this act by killing these men by Public burning at the stake.

———(Tw toxic masculinity)———

I believe this was because masculinity was very important and a man acting in a more feminine role was seen as emasculating and humiliating. For the average man, he had to fight and defend his masculinity. Not doing so was seen as a personal failure.

——————

The last ever known peice of European literature containing a positive representation of homosexuality for 1,000 years was a large epic poem by Nonnus of Panopolis. It was titled Dionysiaca and the first part was published in 390 A.D., the last in 405 A.D..

So yeah, The catholics were very selective in terms of sex. One can only imagine how badly the celts and Catholics clashed. Back to 435 A. D., Saint Patrick began to preach Catholism and around that time wrote in his Confessio. He recounted that he found a boat to get out of Ireland and refused to suck on the nipples of those aboard.

“And on the same day that I arrived, the ship was setting out from the place, and I said that I had the wherewithal to sail with them; and the steersman was displeased and replied in anger, sharply: ‘By no means attempt to go with us.’ Hearing this I left them to go to the hut where I was staying, and on the way I began to pray, and before the prayer was finished I heard one of them shouting loudly after me: ‘Come quickly because the men are calling you.’ And immediately I went back to them and they started to say to me: ‘Come, because we are admitting you out of good faith; make friendship with us in any way you wish.’ (And so, on that day, I refused to suck the breasts of these men from fear of God, but nevertheless I had hopes that they would come to faith in Jesus Christ, because they were barbarians.) And for this I continued with them, and forthwith we put to sea.”

—(Tw very mild rape/sex assault mention—

So, as you can see, Celtic and Catholic ways clashed horribly. Something seen as good and sacred to the indigenous tribes was seen as barbaric and sinful to Saint Patrick. Also, don’t worry, the celts did not press the issue ferther, or else this would be a very different story.

—————

This only snowballed into a much bigger issue much later in medival English sexuality. They were VERY picky on what sex was aloud. Missionary was the only aloud position and it has to be the least pleasurable as possible. Making out and masturbation wasn’t aloud either, as that was also seen as a sin. Here’s a low Rez chart to help figure out when sex was okay.

While we are discussing such a queer topic, I would like to bring up the topic of Anam Cara, or Soul Friends in Antient Celtic culture. A Soul Friend was a word used to describe a Philosophy in which one is not completely whole without thier “other half.” This person can be in a platonic, romantic, or familiar kind of love. Really, all it boils down to is that 2 poeple were made to be together since the beginning of time and will be at thier strongest when they become companions.

There is a Celtic legend that seams to depict a mlm Anam Cara relationship. It tells the story of Cuchulainn and Ferdiad, two male worriors who have known and loved each other a long time. But they must kill each other in a duel. Both are vary reluctant, as at least one of them will have to die.

————(Tw insest)———

Before I go on, it is important to mention there is a lot of debate on wether or not this is homosexual. Mainly because they were foster brothers, but since insest wasn’t as much of a taboo, I do not think this would be as much of a set back as it is today.

—————

They had tried to kill each other each day for 3 days, but they ended up hugging each other and kissing 3 times. On the fourth day, however, Cuchulainn killed Ferdiad. The man then holds Ferdiad in his arms and sings peoms for a long time. Here are some:

“We were heart-companions once,

We were comrades in the woods,

We were men that shared a bed

When we slept the heavy sleep

After hard and weary fights.

Into many lands, so strange,

And side by side we sallied forth

And we ranged the woodlands through,When with Scathach we learned arms!”

Heart companions seams to be similar or the same as soul freind, because of how it’s used. Although sleeping in the same bed isn’t inherently sexual, Cuchulainn then goes on to complement Ferdiad’s physical features.

“Dear to me thy noble blush,

Dear thy comely, perfect form;

Dear thine eye, blue-grey and clear,

Dear thy wisdom and thy speech”

Although this is deeply sweet I would also like to caution that Chuhulainn may have simply been commenting on his healthiness, but blush is an odd word considering he is now dead.

Two male lovers, one dead in the other’s arms. Soul friends, maybe. Reminds me of a certain show..I don’t know I just can’t put my finger on it...

I would also like to point out that because Celtics did not pressure others to have sex, and that a soul friend can be any type of love, I do think that an asexual or someone on that spectrum could live without judgment.Unfortunately, I could not find much about intersex, androgynous, or trans people. Perhaps if I find anything in the future and will make a new post.

In conclusion, if Merlin were more historicaly accurate, he definitely would have been queer. Especially because he is said to be magic itself, it would make sense for him to be the personification of Celtic values. That may include homosexuality, because as previously stated, Celtic men really liked other men.

I’m excited to see what will come of this post, seeing as not a lot of people in the fandom seem to know this. More fanfiction? More fanart? It would probably inspire a lot of creators. So, if you do make something because of this post, please notify me in the notes, an ask, an @ or something. Basically anything but a PM. I would be happy to see/read the creation.

Sources:

Sexuality and love in Celtic society:

Same Sex Celts

Druid Thoughts: of Sex and Druids

Anam Cara, what’s a soul mate?

Sexuality in Ancient Ireland

The Celts, Women, and Sex

LGBT history

Sexuality and love in Medival Society:

Getting down and medival: the sex lives of the Middle Ages

Sex in the Middle Ages

Here’s What Sex Was Like In Medieval Times. It’ll Make You Feel Glad You Weren’t Born Back Then!

General Celtic Society:

Who Were the Celts

Celtic Religion and Belieifs

Saint Patrick

17 Things You Probably Didnt know about Saint Patrick

Confession of Saint Patrick

Cuchulainn and Ferdiad

Cuchulainn and Ferdiad, Gay Lovers?

The Combat of Ferdiad and Cuchulain

Insest in Antient Celtic Society

Ancient Irish elite practiced incest, new genetic data from Neolithic tomb shows

Homosexuality in the Roman Empire

Timeline of LGBT history

Timeline of LGBT history in the United Kingdom

204 notes · View notes

clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

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Breathe ~ Doctor (part 1)

A/n: So I had a FANTASTIC idea and had to write it. The first part is all of the experience with 9 in one part. I so hope you enjoy this introduction, and allow it to take you on a journey with me that I have been having far too much fun exploring.

Word Count: 11,000+

MASTERLIST

Rose Tyler had three people in her life that were a constant.

Her mother, first of all. The woman might be a little annoying from time to time, gossiping and being pushy and demanding and wasting money on parties and dramatics. She was a good woman though, with a large heart. She had, after all, raised Rose by herself and the girl had come out brilliantly.

Then there was Mickey. Mickey was Rose's boyfriend. He was... cool, I guess. There was definitely more to him than others cared to dig for. Even he himself didn't know his full potential, and it put a stopper on him quite a bit. He was fine enough, and obviously cared for Rose, but he tended to be a bit... distracted, and oblivious. Desperate, maybe.

Y/n sure didn't approve of him, but as Rose's best friend he had long since learned to accept the man. Y/n was very good at filling in the spaces where Mickey lacked. He was attentive and listened to Rose talk for hours. That was perhaps the biggest reason he didn't like Mickey too much. Rose complained a lot. Y/n fancied himself an artist. He and Rose had met when he'd tried to do street art to get some attention, but it was more hussle than it was worth. The best thing that came out of it was his friendship with Rose.

There was something odd about Y/n, Rose was sure. The man was usually very open and honest - unless it came to any and all talk about relationships. Rose had long since stopped asking, but others hadn't. Every time his love life was brought up, he clammed shut and got very bitey. No one was sure why, but it happened every time without fail. His reaction didn't get any more or less violent, either. No one could wear him out or get him to snap. He just got tense and irritable until you stopped talking, and then the mood was usually ruined the rest of the day.

It was a silver lining, though. Otherwise Y/n was extremely pleasant and had no problems talking about other peoples' relationships or love lives. Y/n never encouraged Rose to be single or to dump Mickey - as long as everyone was happy, you could talk about anything in your life without any back lash. Rose got along and they didn't talk about it and that was that.

Then the Doctor happened.

Rose and Y/n didn't lie to each other. They'd formed a friendship on if you didn't want something known, you didn't mention it until you were ready to talk about it with a level head. No matter what, they didn't lie. They just kept their mouths shut. So when the Doctor entered Rose Tyler's life and her mom took up the phones like usual and Mickey ran off to the bar to watch the game, Rose pulled Y/n into her room and told him everything.

"No," Y/n mumbled. It wasn't that he didn't believe her. Rose Tyler wasn't insane, and they didn't lie to each other. He knew that, logically, if she said it, it was true. That didn't stop the fact that his mind rejected what she was telling him.

"Yes!" Rose gushed, nodding eagerly. "He's got this weird screw driver, except it's got no head, just a little light at the end. And mannequins - they moved. He's the one that blew up my job."

Y/n allowed him a second to process that before responding. Rose stayed silent as well, waiting for him to speak again before she said more. "And he said his name was what?"

"The Doctor. Sounds like a mad man, huh?"

A sort of amused snort came from Y/n then. "No shit." He shook his head. "Hold on, I need air." They began to walk out when the doggy door suddenly blew in. Y/n and Rose both jumped, before Rose yelled something at her mom about not nailing the flap shut like she said she would. But when Y/n kneeled down, he picked up nails off of the ground, holding them up for Rose to see. "I think she actually did, Rosey."

The two locked eyes and then both gazes shot to the flap as it suddenly moved again. Rose went to stick her head down there but Y/n wasn't having any of that. He nudged her with his foot, grabbing the bat by the door he had insisted the Tyler's kept at the ready. Two women living alone needed some way to protect themselves. Not necessarily a man - no woman NEEDED a man, even Y/n knew that - but something. Now it came in handy as he hefted, swinging the door open as Rose scrambled to her feet behind him.

A man stood there. He wore a leather jacket and had an odd expression on his face. "Hello," Y/n greeted, unsure.

"Hello," the man responded back. He lifted a long, odd object and pressed a button, running the object down Y/n's body as if... scanning him.

It clicked in Y/n's brain far too quickly. The thing glowed at the end that was pointed at Y/n, and it made a buzzing noise. The man was weird and smiled too wide. Even the leather jacket was there. "You're the Doctor."

The Doctor's smile grew. "Normally I have to introduce myself. It's usually a bad sign when someone knows my name, but you're not made of plastic so I can't imagine what I'd have to be worried about. Are you made of plastic by chance?"

"No," Y/n answered calmly. He was processing Rose's story at hyper speed now. It only made sense that a man like this would be attached to a world where plastic came alive and tried to kill you. The night seemed bright around him. There was something odd about his presence, like seeing cartoon and live action mixing between characters and background. The Doctor didn't belong here, and it was obvious in every move he made.

The Doctor nodded. "Suppose I'll be on my way then."

"You will not," Rose spoke up, grabbing the man's arm around Y/n and pulling all of them. "I have questions and this time you WILL answer them."

That simple action changed the lives of Rose Tyler, the Doctor, and everyone they cared about so much that none of them would ever be able to go back. Honestly though, none of them would have it any other way. Except maybe Jackie.

"Doctor?" Y/n turned to the other man, who hummed without looking over. The Doctor's eyes were trained on the end of the world. As were Rose's. Y/n couldn't keep looking. Something had stuck in his head. Something that made him even more sick than the sight of an empty planet being consumed in a universe that had long since been done with it. "The woman before. She said something about your planet. Something about you being impossible."

The Doctor got a very dark look on his face then. "I suppose I am rather impossible." He shrugged, obviously trying to keep it light.

Unfortunately, Y/n's curiosity was insatiable. It was something the Doctor had come to appreciate about him. Until now, maybe. "Well, I'm the last of my kind." He paused but when Y/n's expression grew only more earnest, he shared more. There was something about Y/n that pulled at the Time Lord. Made him want to talk. Talk about things other than just science and time and language and culture and history and such. Something that made the Doctor want to talk about himself. "A very long time ago, there was a war. A war between my people, and those knows as the Daleks." He paused, getting rather somber. "We won...” he swallowed. There was an unspoken, at a cost.

Y/n found himself with more questions, but felt none of them appropriate to ask. "I'm so sorry." Rose turned then to see Y/n take the Doctor's hand. Y/n had always been affectionate, but only with people he was rather attached to. With strangers, Y/n was usually quiet and reserved. Until he was sure someone could handle his prying questions and blunt honesty that so often got him in trouble if he didn't check himself around the right people.

Perhaps it was the fact that the Doctor was a lot like that as well that Y/n had taken to him so quickly. Whether it was that or something else, Rose was glad the two men were getting along. She was also glad there was someone smarter than Y/n in the room. The boy had asked so many questions and gotten so many answers that he had quite a bit of knowledge more than normal people. He was no genius like the Doctor, nor was he hyper intelligent or anything. But he could outmatch Rose and Mickey, and they often went to him when they needed something spelled or math done that they couldn't mentally do quick enough.

Rose suddenly saw something else though. Past the similarity and the comfort and the peace the men found in each other. The Doctor looked back to Earth, and Y/n continued to look at the Doctor. It was subtle, and it wouldn't have been noticed if Rose wasn't already looking. But she had. Y/n finally looked away fully, but there was a look in his eyes that Rose had never seen before.

What was that about?

"What was that?" Rose demanded when the left the room, parting from the Doctor.

Y/n seemed taken aback. "What was what?"

Rose wasn't sure how to describe it. An odd look? A weird new air about him? There was something different when Y/n looked at the Doctor and Rose couldn't understand it. "With you and the Doctor?" She tried to clarify.

That only seemed to confuse Y/n more. "What are you talking about? Holding hands? I do that with you and Mickey all the time, and I'm not even Mickey's biggest fan."

Rose rolled her eyes so hard that Y/n almost laughed. "You looked... different."

Y/n was quiet a long time. Rose almost thought he wasn't going to say anything. That she had found something he wasn't ready to share. But then he did speak, even if it was soft. "He's different, the Doctor. Not just because he's alien, though... perhaps that is it." He sighed. "He's lonely. He's so lonely, Rose. Can't you see it? In the way he empathizes with loss and grief. The way he looks when you mention his name or his planet or the TARDIS or your family. When he was watching you watching Earth die, like he could see... something else. He told me something. Something that makes me think... he might have watched his own world be destroyed, like we did today. But it wasn't empty, and his species hadn't spread out and integrated and evolved. They just died, and left him all alone."

For a second, it was quiet. "You see it, don't you?"

A nod was all Y/n gave at first. He didn't need to say anything, but he did anyway. "He looked the way I did when I got the news back then. When I found out. He gets that exact look."

Suddenly Rose looked very sad indeed. "Well. Now you both have someone, eh?"

A small smile tugged at Y/n's lips. "Yeah, here's to that at least."

"Y/N!"

The man turned at his name, only to be tackled by the shorter blonde that had become known as his best friend. "Rose," Y/n whispered, clinging to her. "God I thought you were dead for sure. I - what happened? I lost you guys and then..." He looked sick. "There was so much light and-"

"We're all okay," the Doctor reassured. "That's what matters."

Y/n turned on the older man. "Now you listen here. That's NOT all that matters. Because she damn well could have not been and I wasn't there to protect her. Or you! What would I have done if either of you had died and I was up here sitting on my thumbs like an idiot?"

The Doctor was taken aback by Y/n's outburst. When the man turned and stormed off, Rose was the one to step up and explain. "I'm sorry, Doctor. He's rather protective of those he cares about." She bit her lip, giving the Doctor the impression there was more she wanted to say. He waited for her to speak, and after a while she did. "When he was young, Y/n saw something terrible. His childhood wasn't normal. I mean, you think life is pretty rough on most of us, but Y/n's had it worst than most."

"What happened?" The Doctor asked quietly.

Rose sighed. "His parents had always been pretty distant, but they were mostly good. They did what they needed to do and let him free when he wanted to be. But, well, they were.. angry. The fought a lot, and it didn't help that his dad was a fan of alcohol. His mum... well she was a fan of lots of things other than that, none of them good for you. One day, she came home high. She wanted something... I can't remember what. His parents fought over it until... his mum pulled a little too hard. His dad slipped and knocked his head really hard on the floor. He died. His mom panicked and..." Rose swallowed. And no further words had to be said about it. "Y/n was on the couch the entire time watching. He ran. Was on the streets for a long time doing lots of things. Working as best he could while keeping his head down until he turned eighteen and was free of the system. Found us right after that. He watched his parents destroy themselves and spent a long time alone after that because he couldn't stop the fighting." She scoffed. "His words of course. Not his fault people fight. He was only twelve."

The Doctor seemed to be thinking about something. Something that didn't seem to be sitting right with him. "Does he have any other family?"

"Loads. He used to have a very big family. No brothers or sisters, but lots of aunts and uncles and cousins and the such."

"What happened to them?" The Doctor looked at Rose, as if searching her mind for something he desperately needed.

Rose stalled a few seconds. "A lot of the same, really. Not so much murder, but... well, his parents got their habits from their families, and between that and regular life? Not as many are as strong or as resourceful as Y/n. They ran off or got addicted to something or..." She shrugged. "He lost all of them at some point."

The Doctor nodded. "I see. Well, this is settled. Let's go somewhere more fun." His tone changed but the mood didn't. Rose let it drop though. Y/n didn't mind Rose answering questions like this for people he was comfortable with. He actually preferred it, so that wasn't her worry. The Doctor had drawn a silent line though. She didn't know what it was blocking her from, but she decided to let the whole topic drop just in case.

Perhaps it was what Y/n had said about him and the Doctor being the same.

She hoped they weren't too similar. It was bad enough knowing Y/n's story, she couldn't bare another like it.

Y/n had been staring at the building that had just gone up in flames for a very long time now. Rose and the Doctor had been celebrating, but Y/n sat there quietly, on the pavement, staring at the building like he was waiting for it to undo the carnage that had been caused moments ago.

"So what's on your mind?" The Doctor had plopped down next to Y/n, smile small. He'd gotten used to Y/n's mellow mood. The boy wasn't hyper like the Doctor. He didn't get off on exploration. What drove Y/n, it seemed, was saving people. And a life like this took its tole on people who wanted to save everyone. People like Y/n. So, the Doctor had learned to check in every once in a while. Every time he did, he was never disappointed. Even when Y/n seemed to be hurting, he was never negative about it. He could accept a success. The things he did think though put the Doctor on a path that had him mulling for days. In a good way. He and Y/n got into a lot of very stimulating debates this exact way.

Today wasn't about debates for Y/n.

"I know they were going to destroy the world and stuff. I'm not sad they're dead. We won and they've been stopped and all of humanity and Earth has been saved. That's great. The way we did it was rather impressive too." He chuckled, but there was obviously more he was thinking.

"But?" The Doctor prompted.

Y/n shrugged. "Wiping out an entire family. I mean, their species isn't normally like that, are they?"

"No," The Doctor answered slowly.

A bitter sweet smile rested on Y/n's lips then. "Do you think they were raised to be like that, or is blood thirst genetic?" It was a sarcastic question, so the Doctor didn't answer. There was a moment of quiet before Y/n shook his head and sighed. "Doctor, would you prefer I didn't travel with you?"

That was not the thing the Doctor had been expecting Y/n to say next. "Why would you ever think I didn't want you along with us?"

Another moment where Y/n struggled with how to form his thoughts and feelings into words passed before the boy finally figured it out. "I like this life. I really do. I like being around you and Rose and watching you guys have your fun. But sometimes I feel like... a bit of a downer."

The Doctor chuckled. "Honestly Y/n, you're the first person in a very long who sees the truth to things. As much as we cling to our victories, you're real about them. You handle everything with complete understanding, even with your limited knowledge. You have empathy even for beings who would have killed you without even remembering your face. You have pity for monsters and you feel for species the rest of your kind would rather kill than have a civil conversation with. Rose is fun and she matches my energy and I appreciate that. But you ask the questions I've been waiting for someone to ask for centuries. Your kindness is quite refreshing. You get it."

Y/n smiled. "So you want me along?"

"I will always want you along, Y/n. As long as I can have you along," The Doctor answered without hesitation. "You're no downer, I promise."

It was that moment that something changed for Y/n. Rose saw this too, but not in the moment the two men shared now, but after. Y/n and the Doctor had unlocked something in each other in that conversation. A kind of connection where even as everyone cheered, all the pair had to do was look at each other to know that in all the sweetness around them, the other understood the slight bitterness they felt as well. As much as they wanted to end evil, they also both felt the loss of any soul they couldn't save. Taking a moment to mourn with each other seemed a relief for both of them.

It was something Rose couldn't feel. She saw things pretty straight forward. Bad people needed to have an end to them. And she wasn't wrong, but the compassion that had come to Y/n and Doctor after having their families and lives taken from them and living far too long by themselves, they had a unique ability to give a moment of silence even for enemies who were twisted by things out of their control. Who couldn't be shown the light.

They bonded over it so much that Rose felt herself being left behind.

Y/n and Rose still told each other lots and cuddled when either needed comfort. The Doctor and Rose still had lots of fun and laughed at each others jokes and had that same sense of humor that came only from adjusting to and enjoying the life they both lead. They were all friends. But Y/n and the Doctor had something else. Just a little something more. Just enough that Rose saw the change and began to think that there might be something major she didn't know about the man who called himself her best friend.

"Something's off."

Rose and the Doctor looked over at Y/n, whose eyes were slowly and carefully scanning their surroundings with narrowed eyes, as if searching for proof that his hunch was solid. "What is it?" Rose asked gently, moving closer so they didn't have to talk around the people in the crowd they had been moving through before Y/n had stopped dead.

The dynamic between the trio had very early on become clear. The Doctor was the brain, coming up with the plans. Rose was the second in command. She was stuck to the Doctor's side and they worked in tandem, being unbroken and often sliding along the same wave length. Y/n was the heart. When Rose and the Doctor got stuck on a mind path, or got distracted, or veered a little too right of what was right, Y/n was the one to shake things up to give them a new perspective, or to help either of them if they needed it. Y/n was a comfort and a friend. He was also very intuitive. Where the Doctor sought things out, and Rose seemed to stumble on information she found, information seemed to find Y/n. He just had a good gut guiding him.

So when he said something was up, at this point, he was never questioned by his companions.

"Earlier one of the girls said that people are chosen to go up to the higher floors. That there's a prize. They go up and something happens and then they never come back."

The Doctor nodded. "I was thinking about that too."

Y/n shook his head. "Did you notice that it's incredibly hot in here? I mean, why? It's obviously not ideal - it makes the people here uncomfortable. It's slight discomfort, but still. Why keep a bunch of people in a super heated room? What's on level 500, air conditioning?"

It was made to be a joke, but the comment seemed to spark something in the Doctor. "You know what, that's an excellent point." He stood straighter. "Fun's over. Where's that friend of yours, Rose?"

The blonde looked around. "He was... just behind us."

"Grand," Y/n grumbled sarcastically.

The Doctor chuckled a few times. "Took the words right out of my mouth." As he said it he looked over at Y/n, his eyes flickering to Y/n's lips. He looked away quickly and Y/n missed the moment altogether. The two continued cracking jokes toward Rose about the man both of them had been increasingly annoyed with, but Rose wasn't responding.

Because she had seen where the Doctor's eyes had landed, and her mind was working a million miles an hour to put this together. It's not that the concept of men liking men was foreign to her, just rare. One that wasn't her first thought for sure. But as Y/n and the Doctor got closer and closer on a very emotionally intimate level, Rose was noticing the building tiny moments that wouldn't mean anything alone but meant everything put together.

She smiled to herself. Rose Tyler had a plan, and not just about Satellite Five.

"You wanna talk?" Y/n offered quietly.

"Do you?" Rose shot back.

Y/n wasn't sure what to do with that. "I always want to talk with you, Rose."

The blonde jerked her body to turn and face Y/n, a determined look on her face. "You know Y/n, how about this. An exchange of honesties. For every truth you tell me, I will tell you one in return. And your truth has to equal mine, so if you want something meaningful then you have to give something like that first."

Y/n paused and then nodded. "Sounds good. Do you want me to start?”

"No, actually," Rose decided. Y/n motioned for her to go ahead, so she did. "Watching my dad die was not great, but I'm glad he wasn't alone after all. It was kind of... a relief, actually. Some closure. I got to say goodbye. I got to hold his hand." She offered a weak smile. "Now your turn."

Unsure of what Rose was aiming for, Y/n thought for a second for something he hadn't told her recently that could be as profound and unexpected as that. "This whole life of ours gives me purpose. I feel like I matter, which is something I haven't really felt until now. I know I had people who cared about me and worried about me and expected me home every night, but I always craved to make a difference and finally having that has been like a dream come true. Even though I get a little melancholic... all the time, it's just because I get stuck in my own head a lot and think too much. I actually really like what we do."

Rose nodded. Even though it had been a tad mild compared to hers, it was less what he had said and more the fact that he'd said it. Y/n struggled to communicate positive emotions, often overthinking the negative ones and voicing those because he needed second opinions and insight. Acknowledging positive things didn’t require a second opinion or input, just a congratulations, and since when did he get that just for traveling with the Doctor and finding purpose without looking like some sort of arrogant dick? It might not have been as profound as Rose's truth, but it was equally meaningful.

"I love Mickey and my mum of course, but I don't think I'll be ever to leave this life and be okay with it. I think that I might end up breaking up with Mickey because he deserves better and that thought terrifies me."

Y/n pursed his lips. "Can I just-"

"No comforting or additional thought. We can discuss later. Right now, truth. State it."

"Okay," Y/n sighed. "Uh, relationships in general terrify me." It sort of slipped out and both of them hesitated. Y/n never talked about this sort of stuff. It was the only thing he never talked about, even with Rose. She expected him to clam up but after a second, he just kept going. "I'm scared of falling in love and having my heart broken. I know some things are worth it, and people glorify love so much and I crave it, I really do, but... I've lost so much. I don't think I'd be able to handle it if I really fell for someone and then had to lose them. I'd rather make friends and family than that nonsense. It would hurt to lose them, but in a different way, and there would still be the thought that you would always be that person's friend or family if you get separated or part ways or whatever. Like we'll always be each other's friend, I think. Even if we got to a point where we couldn't be friends anymore. If I left this life behind, or one of us died or-" He sighed. "But when you break up with someone, they move on. They date other people, and do intimate things with them. They love and connect in just as intimate ways as you used to, and eventually they forget you and replace you. I couldn't handle that. I won't."

Rose let out the breath she'd been holding. She'd been too scared to breath, in case it shattered the moment she'd been waiting to happen for years now. "I understand." She took his hand. "Have you... ever been in love before?"

Y/n shook his head. "Not yet." He paused and Rose felt the weight of those words. Not yet. She could imagine Y/n clinging to his heart as the Doctor got closer and closer, his smile ever wide and his charm ever sparkling.

Rose's shoulders sagged a bit. "What will you do if it ever happens?"

"Ignore it." The words were too quick and solid. They came across as desperate. Insistent. In that moment one thing was clearer than anything else in the world. If Y/n wasn't in love with the Doctor already, he would be soon. He was falling hard, and he was falling fast, and when he landed it was going to hurt. They were suddenly both terrified about it.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" The words were hysterical. Y/n's hands shook and his eyes were wide and his skin shone with sweat. His hair was messier than usual and his clothes were disheveled, like he'd rolled down a long hill or gotten in a fight or something.

The horror of what was happening in that moment settled over Rose and the Doctor in a truly terrible way. It was in the ringing in their ears and the horrible, bitter taste that was suddenly in their mouths. "Y/n-" the Doctor began.

"No," the man answered in a very final tone. One that let them know there was no room for question or doubt. He had been touched by the child. He had been infected, and he refused to infect any of the others.

A new friend, Jack Harkness, jogged over at the commotion. "What's happening over here?"

"Doesn't matter," Y/n answered solidly. "We need to move on."

Rose let out a sound that neared a choked sob, except she wasn't crying. She just looked to be in pain. "You- you can't! Y/n-"

Y/n took a few deep breaths. He had made the mistake. In his idiocy, he had gotten between the kid and Rose, and now he was here. The child was far back and they'd had time to get away, but Y/n had touched him and that meant only one thing. "Rose, we don't have time for this." He was near breaking down, and he begged her to see that. He couldn't spend the time before he died losing it. He had to help as much as he could. He had to make a difference. He had to-

"You know, you don't have to do anything, Y/n." Y/n and the Doctor looked at each other. His lips were parted and his eyes were desperate. He wanted to help but... he didn't know how. "You can stop. We would understand. You - you probably don't have much time left." His face crumbled, like he finally understood the meaning behind what he was saying. "You don't have to come. Spend it doing something else. Get yourself some food maybe. There's bound to be something in the TARDIS. Pick a bed, and stay there. We'll keep you comfortable after... after this."

A soft chuckle came from Y/n then. "You know, I'm going to die." The group got deathly quiet. "Maybe that's not true. I'll be alive. I'll be something worse than dead. I'll be brain dead. Forever." He shook his head, his breathing becoming shallow. "But right now, I'm still me. And I want to do something before I stop being me, Doctor. I want to do all I can. I want to do everything, but all we have time for is making sure whatever is happening to me never happens to anyone else ever again, okay? Can I spend my last moment with you?" He was looking right at the Doctor. Not at Rose, which would have made sense as they were practically siblings with the way they acted toward each other. Not even Jack, who had been having fun flirting with everyone - especially because Y/n wasn't anywhere near as hard to get as Rose or the Doctor. Y/n looked at the Doctor, and begged to die by his side, and Jack and Rose looked at each other because the need that Y/n had to steal all the time he had left to spend with the Doctor of all people... it said something Y/n was not ready to find the actual words for.

"Of course you can," the Doctor whispered.

And he did. Y/n was there as they reached the not-bomb that was actually some sort of alien ambulance. He was there when they saved Nancy and gathered the troops. And when it came time, he left too.

"Nancy, take Rose to where you cut the gate. And take this!" He tossed his sonic screwdriver at Rose and she caught it.

"I ought to go as well," Y/n spoke up.

The Doctor looked confused by that. "No I need you here. I promised you'd-"

"Doctor," Y/n interrupted. He took a shaky breath. "I can feel it coming. Soon I'm going to be one of them. Mindless, and coming after you, and you won't be able to stop me. I will kill all of you. Make you just like them." His face darkened. "Like us." He shook his head and Rose and the Doctor looked at each other, trying to find the answer in each other that neither of them had. Y/n steeled himself. "So this is goodbye."

The Doctor stood there for a few seconds. Too many seconds. He was trying to say something, but didn't seem to be able to. "Y/n?" The man answered to his name, and the men locked eyes. "Do you remember the first time we ever set out, and you told me... you told me that Rose was the most important person to you? You joked that no one would ever be that important to you, except someone who would be... special." He let air out of his nose. "You were special to me. More special than most people."

Y/n smiled, fighting tears. "You are special to me too, Doctor." He looked away. "I'm sorry our journey ended so early. I think... I think it could have been special, too."

Then there was nothing else to say, so he left with Rose and Nancy, the three of them booking it to the fence. Y/n stepped through and watched as Nancy and Rose fixed the metal so he wouldn't be able to get back in.

"Did you mean it?" Rose asked, looking at her best friend for what could very well be the last time. "That I was important to you? And that the Doctor was special enough to be just as important?"

The silence stretched for too long. Rose wasn't sure if it was painful to talk with that thing pushing its way up Y/n's throat, or if it was his human fear that kept his lips sealed, but Y/n didn't say anything for a very long time. The fence was sealed and the women stood before he finally spoke. "Do you think differently of me?" He rushed to add, "I know it's obvious. I saw the way you look between us like you expect us to lose our minds and make out right there. I see the way you and Jack looked at each other before too. Like you were watching a romance movie that had a sad ending. One you didn't expect, or think fair. I'm not as subtle as I like to think I am."

Rose scoffed. "You think I think differently of you because you're in love with the Doctor? Why? Because he's an alien?" She narrowed her eyes. "Or because he's a man?" Y/n looked away. "Y/n, you're my best friend. After all we've been through with the Doctor, you're practically my brother. I have been waiting ages now for you to admit your feelings for him. I didn't know until we started traveling, but it doesn't change the fact that you're there for me more than anyone else. You protect me and care about me. Your heart is bigger than all of the universes put together, and you bleed gold - I swear to god. You and the Doctor... you give him something I don't think anyone ever could. You understand something I can't wrap my head around. The way you mourn even the worst of us, because you see potential. The way you can do that, but still stop evil and remove yourself from harm because as much as you pity people who destroy themselves and others, you also won't tolerate their destruction. You're one of the most amazing men I've ever met, and don't think I'm just saying that because you were my first boyfriend.” It was a reference to When they’d first met; Y/n had pretended to be Rise’s boyfriend to get a creep to go away.

Both of them laughed at that, tears falling down their faces. "I remember that." Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets and the mood dropped again. "In another world, Rose, I wouldn't have ever left your side. I really do love you. And even if I am feeling... things, for the Doctor." His eyebrows came together. "You were always my first priority. I just know that he cares about you, too. He has your back, but someone needs to have his. Someone who really understands. And... you get distracted sometimes. But that's okay, because you always have my back, so we watch each other like that." His voice broke as he continued, "Had." Y/n and Rose locked eyes. "You watch him for me, alright? You two..." He laughed again. "I know you two are like me and him. I know he'll never admit it in a million years, but you two. It's subtle and quiet and innocent, but I can see it. I see it in the way he says your name, and the way you trust him. If you don't end up happy because of me I'll come back from the dead just to kick your asses."

Tears fell harder down Rose's face as she laughed again. "You're an idiot."

"Your idiot," Y/n replied without missing a beat.

Rose's expression fell. "How am I supposed to go on these journeys without you? Go back home and face my mum, who needs you around because you're the only one who'll listen to her gossip without giving her an ear load in return? Who will tell Mickey off now that I'm so different and we-" She choked on her words. "You can't go, Y/n."

"I don't want to..." His vision blurred and the pain that had been rising steadily came in full force now. Y/n leaned against the fence, bending at the middle a little bit as his other hand rose so his fingers could wrap around his throat. "I'm sorry, Rose. I- I-" He began sobbing, but stopped as it made the pain worse. "I'm- m-" He shook his head. He didn't want to hear himself say it... Then the thought occurred to him that the people might be trapped in their heads. Conscious and aware, but out of control. Would he see the face of every person he condemned to live like him? Would he sit there and see them and have to touch them anyway? Every single person until... until what? They didn't die. He wouldn't die. He would turn person after person until they were all brain dead and trapped just like him. "Rose."

"I'm here," she whispered, her voice haunted. "I'm right here, Y/n."

Y/n closed his eyes. "Run. Please - PLEASE don't see me like this. Don't see me- m- mummy-" The word forced itself out of his mouth and he whimpered, flinching upon hearing it. Rose made a sound that was half groan and half whine. This was hurting her. "Rose, Ru-" And then he looked up and locked eyes with the girl who had become his sister, and he thought of her and the Doctor before everything went black.

When he woke up again, he was somewhere new. He expected to see himself marching toward his friends, condemning them to death. He expected to see someone else about to be wrapped in his deadly clutches perhaps. But all he saw, instead, was a lot of lights and people and a blue beam with something large and cylinder in it. He saw his hands next. He reached them up to touch his face and they answered him. His face was skin. It was smooth and a little warm. There was no leather or metal. He wasn't wearing a gas mask.

"Y/N!" He turned in time to be rammed into by a smaller blonde. Her hair went into his face and he felt both panic and relief.

"You- you can't touch me. Rose what have you done?" He demanded rather harshly.

She shook her head, her body shaking as she sobbed. "You're cured, Y/n. You're all better. The Doctor - he figured it out. A brilliant man, he is. Truly brilliant."

Allowing himself a moment to process that, Y/n stayed quiet and just hugged Rose for a second. Once it did settle, though, he needed to know something. "Is the Doctor okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine." Rose and Y/n parted, turning their gazes to land on the Doctor himself. The man was grinning, his eyes light up with joy.

Y/n grinned back. "Guess you're not getting rid of me that easily, Doctor."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," the Doctor replied. He slipped his screwdriver in his pocket. "On we go, then. There's one more thing we have to do before we can celebrate." And just like that, Y/n was okay and not dead and they were all together. Things had been said that they were ignoring for now, because none of them could acknowledge them. Not yet. Right now, they had more important things.

At least that's how they reasoned it. Easier that way. Much, much easier.

"I'm sorry, we'd be sending you to your death?" Y/n demanded.

"Yes," the Slitheen responded.

The Doctor turned to face the man who looked about ready to blow a circuit. "Y/n, I know how you feel. Trust me, I do. We all do. But-"

"No buts!" Y/n argued. "She just wants to be free! Her whole family was killed and she had to run away or die with them. Can you imagine what it would be like to have to run, knowing everyone you care about would be gone? Being helpless to save them, because you messed with the wrong planet? Because you do what you always did. What you were TAUGHT to do?"

That seemed to hit a chord with the Doctor. "It doesn't matter, Y/n. It doesn't!" The Doctor shot again when Y/n went to argue. "She would have killed everyone here without a second thought. What are we supposed to do? She almost destroyed this entire planet for a bit of money, and then AGAIN just to get off of it and go somewhere else. Every single life on Earth, GONE, because she wanted a lift somewhere else."

Y/n looked away. "I can't do this one with you, then. I- I know it's necessary. I know you have to do it. I can't sit by and let you though, so I'm going to leave." He turned on Margaret then. "If you hurt him, I will destroy you, do you understand me? These people are MY family, and if you hurt them I will hunt you down and I tie you up and stick a needle in you and I will pump your body full of vinegar - do I make myself clear?"

Margaret looked scared... and a little impressed. "Yes sir." She looked to the Doctor as Y/n walked away. "You found your soulmate, eh?"

The Doctor didn't answer as far as Y/n knew. It was a relief to know that even if the Doctor had responded, Y/n hadn't been there to hear it.

He did manage to stay away a very long time. He only came back when the Earth under his feet began to crack and the lights went crazy and the sky began to glow and everything began to shake. He couldn't stay at home when things were going to wrong. When Rose and the Doctor and Jack could be dying. So Y/n raced back to the TARDIS, reaching it just as everything began to calm down. He pushed open those doors, praying that it wasn't the calm before the storm and the world was about to end.

When he opened the doors, he saw something he wasn't expecting. Te Doctor stood, Rose and Jack on either side of him, an egg in his hand. "What's that?"

Grinning, the Doctor hefted the thing as Y/n entered the TARDIS, closing the doors behind him. "This is Margaret." When Y/n was rightfully confused, the Doctor explained. He recounted the nights' adventures up until Margaret had looked into the heart of the TARDIS and had reverted to what she was now. "She told me..." The Doctor looked at Y/n with a soft look in his eyes. "She told me to tell you thank you. Before she died."

Y/n smiled to himself. "Well, she's welcome." Then he turned away. "Now, let's get her home shall we?"

"You want us to face those things with guns? There are six of us."

"Actually," The Doctor piped up. "Rose, Y/n, can you help me strip these wires? The faster we do it the sooner I can get this done."

"Uh, sure," Rose agreed, heading over to where the Doctor was crouched.

"Four of us," the woman corrected herself. Y/n hadn't caught her name yet. He made a mental note to do so when they gunned down the Daleks together later. Because he had seen something in the Doctor when he asked for help. Something that made Y/n suspicious.

"Five actually." Everyone looked at Y/n in surprise. "If we're arguing our need for time, Rose can help here and I can help keep those things from getting here for as long as possible. Maybe-" He stopped himself. "Maybe I can take down enough to make them not a threat at all." It was a joke that fell short, but one that made everyone offer at least a small smile. The Doctor went to argue, and that's when Y/n got serious. "I can't stay up here and strip wires when people are dying, Doctor. I won't."

The Doctor seemed to have pain in his eyes. "I can't stop you, can I?" He was begging Y/n. Desperately pleading for him to stay there. To do as the Doctor wanted him to.

This time, Y/n wasn't going to though. His arm was still bleeding and his other leg had a limp from his game. Y/n had looked death in the face twice now and avoided it. He figured he was on borrowed time anyway. Even if that wasn't true, Jack had saved Y/n's life. He had been the one to find Y/n and pull him out of that game right before he died. If they were all going to die anyway - or, at least, most of them - he would be by Jack's side to repay that debt. "You can't."

Once again, the Doctor and Y/n exchanged a look they both believed would be the last they shared. Ever since Y/n had been turned into one of the empty people when they met Jack, the Doctor had been significantly more protective of Y/n. Y/n was a man though and had been staying firm when he made his mind up, no matter how much the Doctor tried.

"Not at all?" The Doctor tried again.

Y/n smiled. "You know, Doctor. I've been pretty obedient until recently. I didn't stray too far or wander off, because I chose to stay behind and let you know where Rose had gone and that she was okay. Or that she wasn't. I did what you wanted me to. And then I died, and I realized that there is more important thing to life than sitting back and letting you take control just because you know more than I do. This is my choice, and I'm making it."

After a second, the Doctor nodded and Y/n took off with Jack and the others, headed to face the Daleks with a bunch of guns.

Y/n did help some. He watched each and every person on the Station die, and he ended up pressed against a wall with Jack at his side and Daleks charging the pair without hesitation. He had lost. But he had helped, even if it wasn't nearly enough to make a difference.

"Go ahead and warn the Doctor they're coming," Jack ordered. He spoke again before Y/n could argue. "I'll hold them off. I know you don't want to, but the Doctor needs warning, and I... I don't want see you die. Not again."

Pain flared in Y/n's chest then. "You're a good man, Jack."

"Thanks, but we don't have time for one of your goodbye speeches." Jack scoffed at himself. "You know, I did always want one though."

Y/n laughed, tears in his eyes. Why did he always end up here? "How about I give you a kiss on the cheek and you can return it later? I can give you that goodbye speech another day, when we have time."

Jack paused, and then nodded. "I'd like that." So Y/n kissed him on the cheek and then ran when the Daleks turned the corner, feeling his heart drop when the tell tale sign of death hit Y/n's ears in the form of Jack's scream. They'd both known this was what was going to happen. Y/n would never get that kiss, and Jack would never get that speech, but it had been nice that they'd parted holding onto that impossibility. Y/n hoped it had been what Jack was thinking when he died.

Unfortunately, Y/n didn't have much time to lament about it. "Doctor!" He ran into the room, stopping in the doorway. Y/n knew about the delta wave, and he knew what was about to happen. He knew why the Doctor had wanted Y/n and Rose to stay. Y/n had gone though, and now he was going to die with the rest of them. He wouldn't have it any other way. First, he needed to say something though. "Doctor, last time I faced death, I said something that we never talked about again. But we've had even more time together now and after all the regret I had last time, I- I can't die again without telling you-"

"I know," the Doctor said, interrupting. "I hate death confessions. I always have. It's not fair, you know. Telling me something like that and then running off and dying before I can do anything about it."

Even now, the Doctor was making jokes. Dear lord. "I came back, though. And you didn't do anything about it." Y/n huffed in amusement. "You never would have, huh?"

The Doctor swallowed. "This would always been the end, Y/n. At the best, you would have gotten older. You would have moved on. I can't... I can't."

Y/n nodded. "I know. I understand. I really do, Doctor. And with Rose too - I can't imagine that ever getting settled. But I need you to know-" But Y/n didn't get to finish his sentence, because there was that horrible sound and Y/n's scream and then everything went black. Except this time, he wasn't unconscious.

He was dead. Y/n was dead. As dead as it gets.

Death and Y/n didn't see to get along though, because only a few minutes later Y/n was gasping back to life, scrambling on the floor. He was disoriented and confused, but he saw a bright light and heard distant but familiar voices. He crawled around to get a better view without the large silver things he couldn't quite focus his vision on just yet. What he saw was Rose Tyler and the Doctor and the TARDIS. The Doctor kissed Rose and a light, far brighter than Y/n had seen anything be, traveled between the two of them and Rose fell.

"Doctor?" Y/n croaked.

The Doctor turned in surprise to see Y/n on the floor. "You were dead."

Y/n shrugged, his head spinning. "I feel... sick now. Just sick." His eyes fell to Rose. "I- Is she dead?"

"No," the Doctor reassured. "We need to go though. Come along, will you? We have lots to talk about." Y/n nodded, wobbling to his feet and then into the TARDIS as the Doctor scooped Rose up and set her on the floor of the TARDIS. He began to pilot the ship and as it set a course for what Y/n assumed was London, the Doctor turned on Y/n. He looked a little shaken. The glowing seemed to be moving under his skin, shimmering. But now it didn't seem beautiful, as it had before. It seemed wrong. Definitely dangerous. "Explain yourself."

"I... don't know."

The Doctor looked at Rose. "Ah." He looked back. "It seems I'm the one who has explaining to do." Again he glowed and the Doctor teetered, wincing in pain. "A... lot of explaining, it seems."

Y/n, worried and very confused and a little terrified, nodded. "Get on with it then. We don't have all day."

"Well... I don't," The Doctor agreed. "But I will. Or... you will, with someone else."

Y/n's breathing got heavier. "Doctor-"

"Y/n," the Doctor interrupted, moving close and taking Y/n's face between his hands. "Beautiful, empathetic, caring, protective Y/n. You've gotten your goodbye speeches, let me have mine."

And then the Doctor kissed Y/n, just like he had Rose. Except there was no light or glow, just a kiss. When they parted, it was because the Doctor groaned in pain. A pain that seemed to be growing. "Doctor?" Y/n rushed, scrambling to help the man stand.

The Doctor didn't ever get to say he loved Y/n back, but that kiss had said enough. It didn't really matter though, because it was then that Rose woke up. Then that everything would change forever. Not too much, but plenty enough. The Doctor changed. Changed into someone more controlled and reserved. Someone who couldn't express emotions as well as he could before. Y/n had changed too, though he didn't know that yet. He had changed into someone the Doctor couldn't accept.

To say, things were about to get really fucking complicated.

"He says that the yellow girl and her companion have the blue box, so they are the only ones able to speak for this planet."

"You can't," Harriet Jones, now Prime Minister, insisted.

"Someone has to be the Doctor," Rose began.

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by Y/n stepping forward though. No one questioned it. This entire time, Y/n had been the one who had seemed to have any idea on what to do. He didn't have much more a grip than Rose did, but what he did have was just enough that everyone seemed to naturally be stepping back to give him the reigns in the Doctor's place. Y/n stepped up and faced an alien race he had no idea how to defeat with no fear on his face. Maybe it was that the man had died twice now, or that his friends were in danger and nothing made Y/n more hostile than facing down people who threatened his friends. Y/n was different than the boy that had agreed to come along on a journey of a life time to make sure Rose was safe. Not so different that he didn't have mercy, but different enough that he not only didn't tolerate people who were willing to harm others, but he was willing to destroy them for the greater good. To protect those who could not protect themselves. That didn't stop him from pitying wasted life, but it did stop him from hesitating.

"Why do you want to kill humans?" Y/n demanded. The Sycorax leader faced Y/n down, but Y/n didn't step back even a little bit. He said something to Y/n, and the agents by Harriet translated.

"He says humans are simple and meaningless. They need to be conquered. They-"

"Now you stop right there," Y/n interrupted. Everyone behind Y/n and everyone in the crowd seemed to react to that. The people in fear, and the crowd in anger. It seemed no one liked that Y/n had interrupted the alien leader that was perfectly capable of killing. But Y/n didn't care about that. He needed to think, and he needed time to do that, and he was absolutely not about to let this monster conquer his planet without fighting back. He didn't know much or think as fast as the Doctor, but he could figure it out. He could figure SOMETHING out. Because he had to. "This planet isn't filled with a bunch of idiots. We may have a few bad eggs. We may make choices that are so incredibly daft, but we're incredible as well. We learn and grow and continue without being stopped. We defy death, even. We defy logic and reason. We're harder to wipe out than a hoard of roaches. We stick around and fight back. You can try your hardest to pin us under your thumb, or kill us off when we refuse, but it'll never be over and even if you do win this battle. Even if you do take this planet now. We will come back in such force that you will wish you had never made the mistake of messing with us. And it may not be now. It may not be in a decade, or several, or even a century. But it will happen, as it always does. And when it does happen, you will fear us."

"You want to be big? Then I will show you how small you are." Too late they all realized the Sycorax had spoken in English. Too late, because he flicked his staff and like a whip, a coil of electricity shot out and attached to Y/n's chest. He screamed and fell to a knee and his friends screamed behind him, but when the electricity left, Y/n was... fine.

Chaos erupted from the crowd. Y/n stood slowly, even his friends behind him whispering in chatter that sounded... fearful. What had just happened?

"SILENCE!" The Sycorax screamed. The crowd begrudgingly went hush, but a small voice from behind Y/n spoke up still.

"You should be dead. I watched him kill them with that- that- staff. You should be dead."

"And I'm not," Y/n brought up rather pointlessly. He sounded far more calm than he meant to though, so there was that.

The Sycorax leader stumbled back in obvious fear. Y/n stood taller. "That's impossible."

"It should be," A voice that was growing familiar spoke up. The small crowd behind Y/n parted and there stood the new man who was the Doctor but also wasn't. That man strutted forward, an expression on his face that was sort of bitter sweet, but leaning more bitter. "It doesn't sit well with me either, if I'm honest."

"Took you long enough," Y/n mumbled under his breath.

"Better late than never," the man shot back. And that was when Y/n saw the Doctor. If a bit more rude and quicker to respond... still the Doctor.

Long story short, the Doctor handled things as he always did. After Y/n's show of immunity to the Sycorax's one hit kill staff, there wasn't much work to do. There was calling the bluff of what turned out to be blood control, which couldn't go as far as the Sycorax said it could. And then there was the sword fight that was brought about by some law or another, but also threatened to happen because if the Sycorax leader didn't agree, the Doctor would "release" Y/n on him. It ended with the Doctor victorious, and Sycorax ship sailing off as the humans left all returned to the ground with the TARDIS.

Then, as they were running away, Harriet Jones shot them down with a beam from a group she called Torchwood, and killed them while their backs were turned.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?" Y/n roared, rushing to the smaller woman. Harriet was suddenly shaking, faced with a man who seemed to be repelling death like it was a light cold and he had work to get to. "They were running away!"

"They could come back," she insisted rather quietly.

"They couldn't," The Doctor argued, standing just behind Y/n, at his side. "The fight - it was agreed. I won, Earth is free from them."

Harriet scoffed. "He attacked you the second you turned your back, and his people will surely do the same." Y/n flared but Harriet seemed to find her courage then. "You weren't there, Doctor. And you will not always be there. Y/n did a very good job of taking your place, but he won't always be here either. One day we will be faced with an enemy we cannot take down with a simple sword fight, and you may not be there to help."

"I should have told them to run from the monster," The Doctor sneered. "I should have told them to run as far and as fast as they could, because the real monster was sitting there, waiting for the moment to strike."

Harriet solidified herself. "I was there when that staff killed two good men. Right in front of me, and I could do nothing to stop it. I won't be helpless ever again. I have people to protect."

There was quiet for a moment, and then the Doctor stepped in front of Y/n, who had been stunned by such stupidity and selfishness that he was struck dumb. "You know, humans are so simple. I can end you entire career without lifting a single finger. I could do it without much trouble. Without even lifting one finger, all your hard work. Gone."

"Stop it," Harriet demanded, that fear from before returning.

"Six words," the Doctor stated calmly.

"Stop," Harriet hissed, coming undone by his terrifying calm.

"Just six words." And then he moved... but not to Harriet. He moved to the last man left that seemed to work with Harriet, and he leaned close and whispered something in the man's ear. Then he leaned away and turned around and walked away, hands in his pockets and face empty of regret or emotion in general. Harriet panicked behind them, begging the Doctor and the man the Doctor had spoken to tell her something. Anything. But she never got her answer.

Not in the way she wanted.

When they were away from her, Y/n rounded on the Doctor. "I'm still alive, and she said I shouldn't be."

The Doctor sighed. "When Rose looked into the heart of the TARDIS, she... brought you back. Honestly, I knew, and I saw, but I was in shock and in pain because I was dying and I was too scared to leave you behind. Far, far more scared of losing you than I was of what you had become."

Y/n looked as if he'd been slapped. "What do you mean, what I've become? You don't want me anymore?"

"That's the thing isn't it?" The Doctor sighed. "Rose doesn't even know. She forgot everything. And you weren't alive to see it. To get back to me, to us, she looked into the heart of the TARDIS. Like when Margaret became an egg. She looked and she gained immeasurable power. Power over time and space, completely. Over life, even. All she had to do was set your existence through out all time and space, and you're alive. But she didn't know how to hone it, so now you'll... probably always be alive. You can't die, I'd reckon."

"At all?" Y/n squeaked.

The Doctor shrugged. "There's no knowing for sure unless we test it, but if back there means anything, I'd say that no, you can't die. I'd even bet you can't age."

Y/n let out a breath. "So I'll be this age, alive, forever?"

"I'd say so," the Doctor confirmed. There was a moment of silence. "I feel guilty."

"Why?" Y/n asked, looking up from where his eyes had dropped.

A soft sigh escaped the Doctor then. "I'm glad of it." Y/n rose a questioning eyebrow, and the Doctor continued. "I've never been able to be really with someone before. I knew they'd go eventually. They die or move on or grow too old for this life, or get torn up by the life style or they're stolen from me. You... you're different, though. Humans age and get old, but I regenerate. I mean, a relationship like that would be one sided. Eventually I'd be alone again. But you don't age, or die, and I'm sitting here in a predicament where I just so happen to be in love with you." He released a breath, as if the words had been weighing him down. "It's so much easier to say that knowing I may actually not lose you."

Slowly, a smile rose to Y/n's face. "Well, if you don't already know I love you too I might have to kick your ass right here and now."

The Doctor released a shaky sort of laugh. After a second, he looked away, his smile fading. "Y/n, there's something you need to know about me."

Y/n sucked in a breath and released it again sharply, his hands fidgeting. "What about?"

"I've had a lot of companions, and I have lost every single one. Rose and you aren't the first, even though you two are... different." He shook his head. "But I had something real before this life. I had a family. I was a father. A husband. I had a life. And it was all taken from me."

For a second, Y/n didn't seem to know what to say. But then he found it, and whispered very gently, "Doctor, I'm weird. I don't... I don't fall in love, really. It's unusual for me to do so. I've only ever fancied one person other than you. I've never taken much to romance and it's never seemed important to me. Like you, the first person I felt like this for... they understood this feeling too. Their father died in a war and mother in childbirth and they spent their whole life being passed from person to person and never having a family or a home. This isn't my first time, though I will say that it is my second. I do know one thing though. If you need time to work this out. If you need something I can't fill... What I mean to say is, I'm happy when you're happy. I'm not asking you to marry me, or start a family with me or whatever. I'm not asking for an immediate serious relationship. Just because we feel the way we do about each other doesn't mean we have to limit ourselves to those feelings. I know you've felt love like this many times, and I know that... you may feel it again in the future, or even now." He shrugged it away. "I know this is going to take time. But I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. Ever, it seems. That you can count on. Everything else... As long as you come back to me at the end of the day, I don't care about everything else."

And then the Doctor did something splendid. He kissed Y/n. And Y/n did something even greater. He kissed back.

It was a great kiss. One of many. Because this journey? It had only just begun!

Male readers: @sheepfather

#dr who #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #dr who imagine #dr who x reader #dr who x male reader #ninth doctor imagine #ninth doctor x male reader #ninth doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x male reader #male reader #dr who fanfic #dr who angst

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fannishcodex · 4 years

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some more rambling/venting thoughts: Talking it Out Works Better than Turning Your Baby into a Hybrid

Kipo is half human half mute because Lio and Song, who were both completely human at the time, made her that way through experimentation and genetic engineering. Kipo is mixed race because she has a Black father and Korean mother who loved each other. There should be no mixed race metaphor because Kipo was genetically engineered half human half mute due to the scientific experiments of her human parents. There are potential metaphors and commentary for the abuse of science as a shortcut over engaging with others found in the concept of Kipo being genetically engineered to be half human half mute.

Burrow humans seem to regularly hold the belief that they cannot live safely on the surface. Lio and Song started Project Kipo with the goal that their genetically engineered daughter/experiment could make the surface safe for humans. They are of course making huge decisions about their daughter's life and future without her consent and are forcing their ambitions on her before she's even born, but that's not exactly the main thing this time and another meta post.

Years later Kipo makes more progress with mutes not because of her genetically engineered hybrid status, but because she's Kipo. Because of herself. Because of her willingness to communicate, emotionally engage with others and listen to them. Kipo starts making more progress with a number of mutes than anyone else by engaging with them, dealing with communication/negotiation/sympathy/etc. while under the lifelong held belief that she's entirely human and still visibly appearing human. Kipo herself even remarks that all her life she's been told the surface is a horrible, dangerous place--and Kipo does learn it's threatening, but she also learns about the wonders of it too, and generally moves past her fears and the prejudices the Clover Burrow tried to teach her when she engages with the likes of the Timber Cats, Umlaut snakes, and Jamack, and finds their better sides or encourage them to start changing. Kipo continues to make more progress with mutes by continuing to do the work of engaging and communicating with them. Kipo's artificial hybrid status as half human half mute doesn't often play a huge factor in true engagement with mutes, other than some practical uses that still often support a broader effort to emotionally engage with others, and sometimes also are in response to the long-reaching consequences of her parents' actions; and again, her genetically engineered mega mute--not just mute, but mega mute--apex predator traits are volatile, threatening herself and others. What ends up mattering more to mutes and progress with them are Kipo's actual efforts to reach out to them as fellow sentient individuals with their own feelings. Lio and Song did not show signs of actually wanting to reach out to mutes when creating Project Kipo. They wanted Project Kipo to make the surface safe for humans, presumably safe from mutes, or "the Other." They wanted security for humans, not actual engagement with mutes. Their decision to not take away intelligence from mutes did not lead to them wanting to try to fully engage with mutes as fellow sentient beings; they started thinking of another way science could be used to more quickly improve the life and status of burrow humans and bypass engaging with mutes and even safeguarding against the "automatic danger" of mutes. Let's dissect the safety/threat of the surface for a bit. Burrow humans often act like the surface is not safe for them, presumably because of mutes, and they have to live deep underground in their burrows. The surface is truly dangerous, and mostly mutes live there now with so many humans apparently going underground--but the surface isn't that much safer for mutes either. Mutes do fight amongst each other. They have mega mutes and other wild, non-sentient mutes to deal with. There are other environmental dangers to face. Hugo was shown no mercy on the surface even though he was a mute, and had to literally fight for any basic acceptance from other mute primates. (Thanks to @lemonadesoda for the latter point.) And the root cause for Hugo/Scarlemagne eventually making the surface more dangerous for humans is the consequence of insanely oppressive/cruel/abusive treatment he suffered since his birth from burrow humans; it was suffering he endured while young and impressionable and still developing, and so it heavily warped him; his restrictive and abusive upbringing while young left him with a limited understanding of humans and a negative response to them, and he had no reason to believe differently after that or even try to look at things differently, and no one to try showing him differently, and that went on uninterrupted for about 13 years, further warping him. Like, I can't ignore that in an ongoing fictional story. Hugo/Scarlemagne would not have done that if he hadn't been so hurt and traumatized since birth by Emilia and several humans in the DNA Burrow. And again, a lot of Hugo/Scarlemagne's suffering at the hands of humans is because they wanted to revert mutes and go back to the status quo and make the surface safe for humans. Because of a refusal to engage with mutes as fellow sentient beings and instead treating them with fear/prejudice/rejection for the "danger" they pose. Mega mutes also seem like literally the biggest danger. Lio and Song's reactions indicate they're probably the biggest motivation for humans to go underground. But the mega mutes so far have not been shown to be malicious. They do seem like normal animals, but largely more dangerous because of their size. With centuries into this mutation, mega mutes just seem like a part of life now. Other mutes largely don't go deep underground to avoid them, but live with them on the surface. Why can't humans do the same at this point? I suppose what I'm saying is that burrow humans seem to act like the surface is barred from them and it's impossible to live there as it is, and that mutes reign; but the mutes are dealing with similar surface threats and are living there regardless. It's not impossible for humans. It's especially not impossible if humans tried to engage with mutes more instead of fearing them so. Also may seem a little...too privileged? Like humans--some humans--apparently can live underground in burrows; that doesn't seem like an option for mutes. The surface isn't just dangerous, it's very much not to the liking of humans at all and doesn't center them at all anymore; humans are not largely in charge on the surface like they were 200+ years ago. Instead of trying to deal with the surface as it is now and their new sentient mute neighbors, a number of humans seemed to have just packed up and left and went underground, and some of these burrow humans even plot to remove the intelligence of *newly sentient beings like the mutes (relatively newly sentient, like within a span of about 200+ years apparently). I do think largely mute distaste for humans at this point is more a cultural thing passed down through generations, especially since mutes don't seem to have any regular contact with humans. In contrast, Hugo/Scarlemagne has direct experience with humans, and it was a damaging experience, making his hate for them more personal and amplifying his negative response to them; Hugo/Scarlemagne has more reason to hate (and arguably even fear) humans. But I think the larger mute cultural distaste for humans is rooted in experiences similar to Hugo/Scarlemagne's, that it originally came from mutated animals who remembered suffering under humans, or experienced new suffering under humans; but through the following generations that somewhat faded and became more a matter of culture/tradition for mutes, connected to mutes' lessened exposure to humans. But now I do also wonder if the average mute population also might resent humans for hiding underground to be "safe." Like every other mute they know lives on the surface and deals with its danger; but oh no, not humans, they largely have to stay underground for their own "safety." Also I guess I just keep thinking, "Wow, Kipo seems to progress a lot with mutes by actually talking with them and learning about them! ...Has any other human ever just tried talking to them before??" Speaking of, Benson and Dave are a great example of human-mute engagement and friendship on the surface. Other than promoting Ratland, they may not have shown as much willingness as Kipo to try engaging with others*, but Benson and Dave are a big example of a strong personal connection that can happen between humans and mutes when they engage. Speaking of, also Ratland is another example of an actual effort of human-mute engagement. *But Benson and Dave also have surface/survivor upbringings versus Kipo's sheltered burrow upbringing with a parent and a long standing community. But many humans, including Lio and Song (especially from before), show an unwillingness to really try engaging with mutes and regard them more with fear; and sometimes implied to think them as lesser, like of course they're so-and-so-and-a-threat, of course we have to fear them. It's even suggested in how Lio and Song continue to treat Hugo. When the formula finally works on Hugo, it motivates them to change their minds about taking intelligence away from mutes, but they still apparently maintain other arguably troubling attitudes. Again, they choose human experimentation over trying to actually talk to and engage with mutes. After they decide they don't want to be a part of the effort to revert mutes, do Lio and Song try to get Hugo out of the awful situation they're complicit in maintaining? No, they again go for human experimentation instead and continue to be complicit in Hugo's imprisonment until they're ready with an alternative for humans to live "safely" on the surface. They make Hugo wait, they do not prioritize him or his new status as a sentient mute; the greater good and "safety" of humanity takes precedence over the welfare of one mute. (Like Lio and Song are not on Emilia's level, but I think they're an example of the layers that can happen in something like this; Lio and Song are not as terrible to mutes as Emilia is, but I think that, for example, they don't or didn't actually respect mutes that much.) Kipo is also not a potential bridge between mutes and humans because she's half human half mute. Kipo cannot even meaningfully engage on a cultural level as half human and half mute because her whole life she was culturally raised as only a burrow human. She's learning more about mutes, but still culturally as a burrow human outsider. She doesn't have enough lived experience to meaningfully reach out to both human and mute cultures because she spent most of her life culturally as only a burrow human, and never even had to deal with growing up with a half human half mute identity; and she's an artificially made hybrid due to scientific experimentation conducted by her human parents, not the child of human and mute cultures truly engaging with each other, Kipo is not the child of a human parent and a mute parent. Lio and Song genetically engineered mute DNA into Kipo in the interests of making the surface safe for humans, and did not think of true engagement or communication with mutes and their culture. They probably didn't even consider mutes having a culture and society, etc. They only saw the physical benefit of mute DNA as something useful to ensure human "safety" on the surface, but didn't look at mutes as fully formed sentient beings with multiple layers to them. (*The entirety of Project Kipo is flawed and poorly thought out. Why not at least average mute DNA instead of going straight to mega mute DNA for an already risky experiment on your own child? They probably went straight for mega mute as the highest safeguard against other mega mutes. And they probably went with apex predator mega mute DNA to make the safeguard against other mega mutes even stronger. But there seems to be the heavy risk of an apex predator mega mute also seeing humans as prey and turning against them too. And the risk of that seems to be even more implied now that it's known that half mute-humans can lose themselves to mega mute side. And jaguars are again carnivorous predators. So. Just. I don't think Lio and Song thought this through at all and it's had poor consequences for everyone.) But Lio does end up raising Kipo as more his daughter than an experiment, and he did care for her and kept her mostly safe until the past came back to bite them with Emilia using mind controlled mega mute monkey Song to attack the Clover Burrow, and the mega mute jaguar traits making a comeback in a big way and exposing Kipo to losing her mind in mega mute mode and other traumas and dangers. (Would Emilia target Kipo like this at all if Kipo were a normal human?) But Lio is in a way still not as open as Kipo, or needs her help and/or reminders from her to try to be more open. I think Lio was able to create an environment where Kipo could come to her own and learn to be open herself. So a pro for him there, but Lio (and Song) again still made numerous other mistakes with severe consequences for both Kipo and Hugo/Scarlemagne, and a lot of others too actually (Emilia is using Project Kipo research after all). So Lio helped give Kipo a loving and safe enough upbringing for about 12 years before the consequences of his and Song's actions caught up with them; and Kipo was able to develop to the point that actually the most important thing she can offer is being herself, not the artificially hybrid half human half mute status forced on her. I suppose what I'm also saying is that Lio and Song really unnecessarily experimented on their daughter, changed her body without her consent and forced these ambitions on her without her consent, tried to use science as a shortcut focused on only improving the status of humans, instead of trying to actually engage with mutes as fellow sentient beings in an ongoing dialogue and relationship. I'm saying that Kipo is doing what her parents and a lot of other humans should have tried before: talk to and engage with mutes on an emotional level. I'm saying that Kipo didn't need to be experimented on and genetically engineered into an artificial half human half mute hybrid for that. I guess what I'm saying is: Human Experimentation or Sending out a Peacekeeping Delegation to Mute Factions (Talk to Mutes)?? And Lio and Song went with human experimentation. (I love that the show has made me think about stuff like this. Lio and Song are very interesting and part of that is because they've screwed up so much, and they'll be even more interesting if the narrative ends up really acknowledging this. Also I felt he was relevant, but I also could not resist Hugo/Scarlemagne thoughts, I love him.)

#kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #kataow #kipo oak #scarlemagne #lio oak

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sifanjewel · 4 years

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My OCs: Zela’s family

Here are some descriptions of my beloved OC Zela’s parents, her brother and sister, and a slightly more detailed summary of Iryn!

I also have stuff written for Iryn’s siblings, as well, but they will have their own post.

I should also note that these are personality/backstory descriptions. I’m still working on the sketches for these characters so there's nothing about their physical descriptions. Yet.

Side note: To have and idea of Zela’s sibling’s ages, she’s 23 at the start of the Resistance

Shal’un

Shal’un is a proud Sifan Gelfling, born and raised in Cera-Na. In his younger trine, he was a hard worker who repaired ships and learned to be a skilled fisherman at a young age. He also, like most Sifan, had many out-at-sea adventures with his Samuadren family, and if he wasn’t out on a ship or repairing one, he was constructing his own windship for the Hooyim Boat Races, which he took part in every single year.

His adventures, however, ended with a horrific storm out at sea that caused his ship to sink. He had been the only survivor. He was rescued, but the memories of that night kept him in Cera-Na. He still gladly repairs damaged ships, but now only fishes in close range of the shore, and his Hooyim racing days are long behind him. It’s not only his traumatic memories that keep him close to land, but the family he now provides for. Though he may no longer participate in the hectic life of the Sifa, he is forever proud of his clanship and teaches that same pride to his children.

Lana

Before joining the Sifa, Lana was a young, fun-loving Stonewood girl with expertise in archery and wilderness survival skills. She lived in a smaller settlement within the Endless Forest, but visited Stone-in-the-Wood on a frequent basis and spent many-a-day and night partying at the brew fountain with her friends. She had been content with her life to remain that way, until one day her friends suggested they all take a trip North, particulalrly to the Port between Ha’rar and Cera-Na. They all wanted to get a taste of the adventerous ways of the Sifa.

Lana gladly went along and ended up enjoying the trip, but not quite how she’d expected to. While at a pub within the Port, she caught the eye of a handsome Sifan fisherman. Shal’un and Lana spent nearly the entire night talking and continued to stay in touch long after Lana and her friends returned to the Endless Forest. Six unum of writing back and forth and two more visits to the docks later, Lana finally accepted her heart’s call to remain by the sea with her lover. The day she moved to Cera-Na Shal’un asked her to marry him and she glaldy accepted. Their union officiated her Sifan clanship and Zela was born shortly after. Since then Lana has fully accepted the Sifan ways of life and takes every aspect of their culture into appreciation, even Far-Dreaming and soothsaying, though she has neither such abilities. She misses the Endless Forest from time-to-time, but she has not once regretted her decision to live the rest of her days on the coast, surrounded by family until the day Thra calls her home.

Mar

Mar is Zela’s younger brother by seven trine. Mar shares the same clan pride as his parents, even as young as he is, though he is less interested in the fishing and ship-repairing business Shal’un urges him into and would rather spend his time dream-etching and story-telling if he’s not messing around on the docks with his friends.

Mar appreciates his Sifan and Stonewood heritage, but if he had a choice to join the Dousan, he would. He’s always intrigued by the Dousan whenever they come into Port to trade with the Sifa. He’s always been captivated by their looks and what little he knows about their culture, even with the supposed “death-worshipping” aspect of it. He hopes to one day visit the Crystal Desert when he’s older and learn more about them. He even half-jokingly mentioned getting Dousan-style tattoos, much to the horror of his parents.

Tida

Tida is Zela’s younger sister by ten trine, making her the youngest of the three siblings. She is very much her own Gelfling, but looks up to her sister, and is often inspired by her in spite of Zela’s inability to speak. She has some of the same interests, such as making charms, drawing, and going on rock-climbing adventures along the shores. Tida especially loves making jewelery and designing her own Sifan clothing, and dreams to someday be the Maudra’s personal designer and tailor. She also loves styling hair, even when it may not always turn out quite how she imagined it.

Tida takes to the fishing business within Cera-Na a little better than her brother, but doesn’t have much more interest in it, and would more often rather have fun with her firends as any childling should. Even so, she loves helping her family however she can, and enjoys life on the docks as much as the next Sifa.

Iryn

Iryn is Zela’s beloved husband, a Drenchen who turned Sifan even before they were married. Prior to meeting Zela during a chance encounter in Stone-in-the-Wood, Iryn lived his life happily among his fellow Drenchen within Great Smerth. He was a renound hunter and accomplished warrior, well-equipped with a spear and bola at all times. In contrast to his rotund Drenchen appearance in height and muscle, Iryn is soft at heart, gentle and charming with his words even when surrounded by those of his clan who know hard-talk best. When he and Zela met, their connection was almost instant, and he had never felt a greater love for one Gelfling before, regardless of what clan she heeded from.

Iryn ranked high among the many Drenchen who took up hunting, even becoming a leader in one of the clan’s strongest hunting parties and at the peak of his trine within the group found himself in a position that granted him the ability to speak to the Maudra on a frequent basis. This was a position he had practically been trained for, as his parents were also leaders of their respective groups - most notably his father, and his father before him and so on. Iryn’s choice to join the Sifa enraged those within his hunting party, however none were more furious than his sister Navina and brother Bovahl, who expected him to carry on their parents’ legacy when they couldn’t. It broke his heart, but Iryn was forced to sever his ties with the Drenchen due to his siblings’ rejection. He never regretted his choice, however, as he of course found family among the Sifa not only through his future wife, but among those he would grow to call his friends. The Sifan practice of Era-Ianem favored him; whenever he found himself missing Sog and his estranged siblings, he would remind himself that though his sails were woven by Drenchen fabric, it was the Sifan wind that filled them.

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voltagesmutter · 4 years

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Hi! For the ask game, how about 26 and 33? 😊

Heya lovely! 26 - Dreams

Oh this is such an interesting one! I don’t know where to begin.

When I was a child I dreamed of moving away to America, becoming a teacher. I even did work experience when I was 14 in a primary school for a few weeks, preparing myself to go to college at 16 and do teacher training. However that all changed when I discovered media.

I’ve always loved writing, I used to write when I was younger and one day dreamed of actually writing a full length piece, which I went on to do but we don’t talk about that because it’s mildly embarrassing to read back. Something I dream of doing and am actually working towards is finishing my degree at university, I have a placement year starting soon at a major company and then will be returning back to university to finish my final year. I’m currently studying ‘Digital Media’ which consists of lots of different entails, my favourite being CSS and HTML management, producing and maintaining websites and creating articles for content posts. I hope when I’ve finished my course I’ll go to do my masters, that’s something I’ve had my mind set on since I started university. My dream vision at the minute is to start up my own business once I’ve graduated, I can picture my future so clearly. I want an office above my garage, white washed walls with a wooden floor, a skylight which brings light down to the computer desk that sits in the middle of the room, plush sofas with a coffee machine (And a gin-mini bar) for clients to indulge. I know what I want and I’m set on track to get it!

The internship role I’m going to be partaking in in september is for my dream company and words can not express my excitement. It’s one of the top three companies to work in globally and that makes me ecstatic. I was originally rejected from the role, they found someone with slight more experience, however kept me on my file because they enjoyed my personality so much (Their words made me cry). Then over a month ago they rang to offer me another interview if I was still available for the role as they had opened up a second position, which I gladly accepted. Within a hour of finishing up my interview they rang me back, cancelling all other interviews for the role and offered it me on the spot, fully break down of happiness of the phone to them. So saying I get to work for a company which fulfils dreams and pursue happiness is a dream come true in itself for me and I can not stress how excited I am for the future. Another dream is go traveling, I adore being in different countries and learning about a wide-range of cultures. I hope to go traveling across the world once I’ve finished university, might even up-root to a different country if I fall in love with it! A big contender for that is Australia, when I was there for christmas it felt like a never-ending blissful dream. Waking up everyday to the heat, the beach being a heartbeat away, it was magical.

33 - Languages So I’ve answered this on someone’s else’s questions, but I only know English. Parts of basic knowledge of french from my school days but not enough to know anything more than ordering a baguette in a shop!

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unwiltingblossom · 5 years

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Hey there. Sasusaku may know me, but Zutara probably doesn’t. I’m not in the ATLA fandom, but I have observed enough to notice something that intrigues me about Zutara, aside from the fact I’d totally board the ship if I were foolish enough to watch a show knowing I was going to fail (actually, consider me proto-Zutara I guess because I think I liked it in the movie. Maybe I liked Kataang. Maybe I liked both. Can’t remember. moving on.)

I think it’s interesting that somewhat unintentionally Sasusaku and Zutara illustrate pretty clearly the difference between Japanese fandom and western fandom, in a way that Sasusaku already shows to a lesser degree.

There’s a bunch of fundamental differences in these two ships, I’m aware, but at their core, I feel they’re much the same. Call it ‘same energy’, if you will. Yet in one story they end up together and the writer keeps adding more things to insist that they are, and in the other one they end up apart and the writers keep trying to delegitimize the pair more and more.

In Sasusaku’s case, not only do they marry and have a child, the writer has stated that he always intended them to be together, and given various interviews and novels and mini comics for them.

In Zutara’s case, the writers seem to contradict themselves claiming they didn’t plan it, and that while it’s interesting, they mock anyone who actually thinks it would be a good idea or would happen, claiming their relationship would be unhealthy and unhappy.

Now this is interesting, because there are parallels with how fandom reacted to Sasusaku (and if ATLA ever got released in Japan I’d be curious how the fandom reacted to Zutara). In Japan, Sasusaku has always been one of the, if not the, top ships. Mostly what beats it out is slash, because fujoshi are gonna fujosh. Fans love it, went crazy for its ending, and loved all the scenes it got leading up, joking about them getting married and such offscreen.

In the west, however, while Sasusaku is still super popular, it gets a LOT of pushback. People like to insult it, insist it’s abusive and horrible, claim that Sasuke and Sakura could never be happy, and that anyone who honestly thinks they should be together should never get into a relationship for their own safety, because they’re romanticizing abusive relationships and will be hurt.

Sure sounds familiar, right?

Well, I’ll do you one better. Because you’ll see often the complaint that “I wish Sakura had just been strong and realized she didn’t need a man, becoming an independent etc” or “This is really harmful to Sakura’s character, because it forces her to abandon the things she loves and live subservient to Sasuke as some wife”

These are, almost without exception, lies. What they’re almost always saying is actually “I wish she would have grown up past Sasuke and married instead (Naruto/Lee/Kakashi/Sai/a girl), but if she couldn’t do that, then at LEAST she should have been alone!” they just cut off the first part because it reveals their bias.

And frankly, there’s a lot of parallel between Narusaku, who had a childhood crush on Sakura because a part of him thought she’d give him the recognition he needed and becomes the sage of six paths hero who saves the world from war in the end, and...well. Kataang. Which basically seems to have been a puppy crush on the first girl he met, that he nurtured into love over years as he became the Avatar hero who saved the world from war in the end. Both have a brother/sister or mother/kid relationship with the female in question through their quest (Sakura treats Naruto much like an annoying little brother and Naruto + Minato both recognize Sakura as ‘like his mother’, and Katara has a very motherly relationship with Aang most of the time until they start kissing)

Most importantly, I feel there’s a lot of parallels to be found in Sasusaku and Zutara.

Sasusaku runs on a baseline of Sasuke being extremely hostile and cold to everyone, refusing to let anyone in, and Sakura reaching out to him and through his defenses over and over despite this. She is the first person that he admits the reason for his behavior to -before Naruto or anyone else, he begins to explain to her that his brother killed everyone - and they have a mutual respect. Sasuke acknowledges her skills and smarts, and considers her to be the one light in his life, the ‘spring breeze’ and ‘the one who filled his lonely existence with love’. Despite this, he betrays her and everyone else, choosing his revenge over his happiness, but even through the many years of isolation and hatred, his response to Sakura always has a softness that isn’t there for anyone else. He saves her when he doesn’t need to, he listens to and responds to her before anyone else, and he even offers to let her go with him on his quest. Yes, it’s because she’s a healer who can replace Karin, but do you really think he couldn’t have used Naruto at his side, the other one the village rejected and turned against, who might want revenge? Juugo and Suigetsu aren’t healers, but he keeps them anyway because they’re useful. Sakura is the only person in the Leaf he offers to join him.

Anyway. Although they’re enemies most of the story, her love for him endures and she keeps trying to reach out to him. Every once in a while he responds, catching her when she falls, caring about her harm. The eventual nexus of their relationship is after his final battle with Naruto - which he puts her to sleep during, because she jumped in the way and almost got killed last time, and he doesn’t want her to do so this time - is her kneeling over him laying on his back, healing him, crying. He apologizes until she finally accepts his apology, and canonically this is the moment he realizes he loves her (though it’s much longer before he acts on this in a real way).

I won’t presume to fully summarize Zutara, because I am but an observer. However, I do know that they begin as enemies, that she is able to break through his cold shell with her kindness and compassion, so that he opens up to her about things he either never does to anyone else, or doesn’t to anyone else for a long time. I do know that he betrays her trust, and that they don’t truly mend fences for a long time because of their antagonistic relationship and betrayed trust. I also know that one of their later moments involves a scene where Zuko is on his back and she’s kneeling over him in tears, and he thanks her.

Plenty of details are different, but there’s all sorts of similar themes, notes, and visual parallels. Zuko’s appearance during later episodes looks very similar to Sasuke’s appearance after his duckbutt hair stage, Sakura’s color scheme is usually red and Sasuke’s is blue, and of course Katara is blue while Zuko is red. Sakura is a healer (I can’t think of anything water related, no), and Sasuke uses fire (when it’s not illusions or lightning). You can definitely make a convincing argument to say these relationships are pretty close to the same thing portrayed in different media with a different story shaping their behavior.

So then, why is it that one of them ended up together and has a happy family life and is considered to be the ‘good end’, while the other one didn’t end up together and is considered to be the ‘bad end’ were they to get together?

Why also did Kataang get together and become the ‘perfect’ couple that everyone should have seen coming and agree with, but Narusaku was nothing more than jokes to tease the audience with occasionally and was completely sunk multiple times in canon before they both married other people?

Well...I think it’s a difference of cultural sensibilities directly affecting the outcome of the same story.

In the west, essentially, the woman is the ‘prize’ for the hero at the end of the journey. If he finishes his homework and saves the day, his reward is the woman he’s been pining after for ages. It doesn’t matter whether she openly wants him or not, there will be little ‘checkpoints’ through the story where you see that secretly she does want him as he gets better and ‘more heroic’, so anything he does in trying to woo her is ‘acceptable effort’, essentially. And more importantly, the person who has love needs to ‘deserve’ that love. The heroine has to get with a ‘good’ person like the hero because the antihero isn’t ‘good enough’ for her. He’s the ‘bad boy’ that she flirts with but then grows out of so she can marry the nice guy instead. And it’s this to an extreme. If she marries the ‘bad boy’, then she’s consigning herself to a lifetime of abuse or unhappiness, because she can’t be happy with someone who isn’t as good as her. This is tripled if they have an antagonistic relationship, like if they’re at war with each other and have been enemies. (this doesn’t work in reverse. A bad girl can marry a good guy if she sufficiently redeems herself and goes good, because men can’t be abused in this cultural standard) Instead, the antihero generally ends up with a woman of similar morals if he marries - another bad girl turned good, another rogue figure, something like that. That’s because it’s what he deserves and in turn what she deserves.

Weirdly enough, it works in reverse for attractiveness - hot women marry down, but not hot men. But that’s neither here nor there right now. The point is, you can see how on this scale the ending NEEDS to be by western standards Kataang, Maiko, Narusaku, Sasukarin. The tarnished and dark man MUST marry the tarnished woman of ‘inferior morals’, while the good and pure hero MUST marry the heroine, because she must be his prize for his heroism and success, and he is the only one worthy of her goodness, therefore the only one who can make her happy.

In Japan, it’s just not really like that. The hero doesn’t need to get the girl in the end as his reward, and in fact it’s often the girl who gets the man she’s always wanted by the end of the story. This is because ‘patience and dedication’ is seen as more praiseworthy and deserving of reward. Because the heroine stuck with the love she had even when that person wasn’t ‘deserving’ of it yet, her love should blossom and be returned to her. Much more focus is on enduring and quietly continuing onward in spite of difficulty, basically. Orihime must get Ichigo because she loved him from the beginning. Same with Naru and Keitaro, Hinata and Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke, Juvia and Grey. They ‘make their love choose them’ instead. In fact, who the man wants is sometimes just played off as a joke, such as in Black Clover where Asta is determined to marry a nun while there’s a princess not-so-secretly swooning over him. It’s not hard to guess how that story is going to end.

Anyway, because the qualifications of what makes an ‘acceptable romance target’ differs in Japan, worrying about whether the girl is ‘good enough’ or the man is ‘good enough’ for the romance is less important, only whether they’re dedicated or patient enough.

It’s not saying one is better than the other, whether using the man as the prize or the woman as the prize is the correct way of writing it - and there are exceptions, plenty of Naruto’s couples are written just because they go well together, there’s western stories where the girl gets the bad boy after he’s redeemed himself and it’s fine - but the differences are there to be seen.

And, weirdly enough, I think is what ultimately determined the different endings between Naruto and Avatar: The Last Airbender.

#zutara #sasusaku #naruto #atla #fandoms #ooc #long post #meta

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spellnbone · 5 years

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Dell [41] - Traveller [Magi Colegio, Mexico] Rigby [31] - Editor for Lore&Lore, Hogwarts Textbook Publishing Company -- (currently on a pre-paternity break) [Hufflepuff] Edgar [28] - Columnist for the Daily Prophet [Ravenclaw] Amelia [28] - Barrista at the Wizengamot [Hufflepuff] Colter [25] - Dragon Researcher and Reserve Ranger, Russia [Hufflepuff]

Growing up in the roaring twenties and raising herself to be a firework of a woman in the thirties, Laura Bones never wanted children. Had there been day-cares in the south of Wizarding England, perhaps she would’ve considered it, but as it was, children were but something she thought would tie her down. She wanted to travel and explore as many cultures as possible, so when a new friend, Jorge Centello, invited her to come explore the Wizarding Americas with him, she had no doubts.

Gone they were, for two entire years, and eventually friendship changed into passion and by her 19th birthday the young Witch had to declare to her parents that she was pregnant. An accident, perhaps, but she was too proud of a person to say it was anything less than on purpose, and to prove it, she married Jorge -- under the condition he took her maiden name because “do you know who the Bones are?! You’d honestly want me to take that away from me?!” He didn’t want to, and, in fact, took her name. A promise that, well, perhaps the child was an accident, but he was committed. Wild as she was, he had long given up on denying how he felt about her, and firmly believed that if he could spend the rest of his life with her, it would be a happy life.

Jorge was fiery himself, but more like a steadily burning camp fire than whatever explosion Laura appeared to be. Brave and unwavering as he was, he didn’t fear the judgement of the much stricter Wizarding Society of England, telling her again and again, even in his unbreakable vows at their wedding, that as long as they were together, no amount of rain could dowse his flame.

So, Dell was born. The young family remained unstationary as they had before, travelling the Americas until it was time for Dell’s magical schooling (age 13-19), for which they returned to Jorge’s hometown in Mexico. With his grandparents there, it didn’t matter that Laura kept travelling for months on end, returning mostly for birthdays and holidays like a child at boarding school. But she was not a neglectful mother. She taught her son all she thought important about the world, taught him about his family in England and the high sense of justice they fostered. And, being so far away from them, Dell took great pride in them. A pride akin to a niche interest, the way one is interested in certain periods of history, or dinosaurs.

Dignified like his grandparents -- who didn’t have much, but who carried the kind honour the way only humble people know how -- he put a lot of emphasis on making his family proud. Aware of his precious, bicultural heritage, he was open-minded in situations where others would be more tight-lipped, always hoping to do his name justice. He wanted to be an exemplary Bones, succeeding easily. He was well-loved at school and studied hard, which earned him a traineeship position at Gringotts in London after his graduation. Why England despite speaking English as brokenly as his father? Well, partly because he finally wanted to see all the things his mother always told him about for himself, and partly because he wanted to show off in England what admirable off-spring the Bones had produced.

The reason why Laura agreed to follow a year later? Well. Ten years ago, another such accident as Dell had happened... By the time Dell was off to England, little Rigby was almost old enough for his letter from Hogwarts, and Jorge thought perhaps it was his time to struggle with helping with his son’s homeworks, instead of his wife. Laura agreed, though her reasoning was simpler. Less pragmatic. Less humorous. The truth was, when she looked into her little boy’s eyes for the first time, those big blue orbs like her mother’s which no other Bones-Centello has, she was overcome by the strongest, deepest and most earnest feeling a person can have, a feeling which Jorge had already felt many years prior when he had first seen Laura and which had only grown with every day he had given Dell a big, long hug: loyalty. Loyalty to family. Loyalty to a need of togetherness. Loyalty to a creation of ‘home’.

It made her miss her own parents, made her miss seeing the same people every day, made her miss looking at a pile of bricks and think “this is my house, this is not just where I sleep, this is where I live.” A big, happy family, all gathered in one place, this was what she wanted. So off they went.

Rigby, who had seen Dell go through his school-career with stellar grades, wanted nothing more than to be like him. He adored his big brother. Worshipped him, really. Always followed him everywhere. All the “why?” questions typical for children his age were directed at Dell, not his parents or grandparents. Everything Dell had, he wanted to have, too. Everything Dell was, he wanted to be, too. There was a joke going around the Centellos, that his eyes were only so big so they could see all of Dell at all times, and only so blue because Dell’s school uniform was blue, like the sky and ocean sharing each other’s light and colour. In his private schooling he was studious -- because of Dell. In social situations he was attentive and friendly -- because of Dell. His clothes were always neat and clean -- because of Dell. So naturally he was devastated when Dell moved away. He tried to hide himself in his suitcase! And in return how happy he was when his mother finally agreed that they’d all move to England!

But oh dear. The shock that awaited him there... Dell met them at the Port Key and they found that their good little boy had turned into, well, into a hippie. Long hair, no shoes, and strong convictions on his lips. Whatever he had expected England to be, it had bitterly disappointed him. He had been horrified by the strict structures of the Wizarding Society there, the conservatism, the purebloodism, the way half-breeds and magical creatures were treated, everything! He had promptly quitted his job and joined a few travelling magi, and by the time his family had followed him, he had turned into the Dell we know today. And the first thing he told them as they arrived in the old House of Bones he had always dreamed to live in once, was: “I reject the heritage, by the way. I don’t want to own money that has been used to oppress the unfortunate.” In fact, he declared that all money was bad and that he’d be travelling some more now, dismantling all of society’s norms until everyone had accepted Diogenes’ teachings as their one truth.

Needless to say that his mother was incredibly proud of him and had Jorge pack a lunch for him. He’s always welcome to come back home, and whenever he does, for birthdays and the holidays, just like Laura used to do it, he explains how he denies social norms to have an effect on him through personal actions, such as helping others for no rewards, rejecting monogamous relationship structures or negative opinions on ‘bad habits’, and wearing dresses and wearing lipstick beneath his bushy beard. Every year for Yule, he comes back with more strange concepts, and every year his family gathers around and listens attentively, though never entirely capable of distinguishing his jokes from his serious suggestions.

But before all the family could adjust and grow fond of the Bones gene showing itself once again, Rigby’s little heart had to break. Seeing his brother like this, so ... different from how he remembered him? It upset him terribly. Perhaps the first time a Bones has ever disapproved of another family member’s weirdness. But you see, it wasn’t logical. It was something deep within Rigby that was shaken and, in a way, awoken. Until now, his personality had been this idea he had had of his brother. But if his brother wasn’t Dell anymore (no calculated smile left, no gender left, no shoes left), then who was Rigby?

His first two years at Hogwarts he tried his best to uphold who he thought he’d been. Perhaps to prove himself that one couldn’t just be so wrong about one’s identity. But the more aggressively he studied, the more care he took in what others thought of him, the less ... happy he was. And when his younger siblings, the twins, joined him at school, he became more and more aggravated by the day to see them taking ‘who they were’ so easily. Amelia just bursting with ideas and love to give, and Edgar floating through the halls as though he thought himself a ghost, untouchable by others anyway. Between who he was and who he wanted to be grew a chasm. A chasm only one person could allow him to cross and help him to explore: Dell.

For Rigby’s thirteenth birthday, Dell took his brother aside. The talk lasted all night. It went from the Bones’ family history and values, over fears and love and imagination, to how no one could and should tell you what is ‘right’ but the unfilled cavities of your own heart. Rigby cried a lot that night. It’s not always easy to quite detect where the thorn sits, but with a bit of luck, patience and acceptance, water washes out the wound.

Rigby never became as wild as any of his siblings. He might’ve given up to put such weight on scholastic achievements but he never quit caring for proper attires or quoting particularly charming passages from his favourite books at the prettiest boys he could find. His sense of justice, different than Dell’s, is a private one. It’s not the world he wishes to flip off, just all the factors that could influence who he is. Dell doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him, but Rigby very much does. He needs people to understand who he is, to accept him fully and to not ask him to cut himself down. Not society needs to strip itself off all judgement, but every person needs to see what is truly within them, and accept it. That is what he wants.

Naturally, his family agrees, and when he finally introduced them the -- by then (in)famous long-term -- boyfriend (and his former boss at work) he had always carefully shielded from the weirdness of his family, saying that they’d not only exchange vows next Summer but also planned on adopting a child, everyone was more than elated. Until they realised that this meant by the terms of the tradition, the heritage would therefore not be able to go to him either. He could’ve gotten a wife and have a child with her for good measure, even left her afterwards, but Rigby refused to because of his integrity to who he was. And because no one wanted to fight with him about it, all eyes went to Amelia, fifteen at that time. With a gasp she pointed at Edgar: “He’s five minutes older!” who had long realised what was going to happen and was intently hiding behind his book.

Amelia and Edgar had never any doubts about who they were. Perhaps because right from the very beginning, they always knew that they were each other’s other half. One right-handed, the other left-handed, they were able to do most anything while keeping their fingers locked, not mirroring each other -- never mirroring each other! -- they were more all the assembled parts that the other didn’t have. What one was brilliant at, the other failed, what scared one, intrigued the other, and yet their laugh had the same melody, chiming in unison as though a well-rehearsed song. At the age of eight, after leaving Mexico, where they had shared a small room, their parents could finally offer them each their own bedroom, but Amelia’s was barely ever used. Yes, they were tucked into their own beds every night, with both parents telling them a story each to make sure they’d actually fall asleep, but before the clock would strike midnight, Amelia would be hiding under Edgar’s blanket.

Thus it came, that after their first night at Hogwarts -- which both had anticipated greatly! -- they stomped into Professor Dumbledore’s office demanding another try with the Sorting Hat. By the time Rigby renounced the heritage, they had almost peaked in their independence. Like Dumbledore told them that night: them being apart had not washed soft all the perfect little puzzle-locks that had made them fit beforehand -- like glass in the ocean -- but actually created more of those edges which only the other could fit in. Returning to each other over the holidays was never difficult, but they no longer required each other to feel like a full person. The first year at Hogwarts, Edgar had tickled the pears every night, meeting Amelia on the couch in the Hufflepuff Common Room to find sleep in her arms there, the second it had been mostly every day except the few ones where they were too tired and slept through the night, the third it was mostly when they didn’t have to wake up early the next day, the fourth mostly on weekends and special occasions, and by their fifth year, it happened so rarely that Edgar had to explicitly tell the resident Hufflepuffs who he was when he entered the Common Room because they were no longer used to seeing him there.

During their sixth and seventh year of Hogwarts, Amelia stood in constant correspondence with Rigby. She had always been very close with him, trying to comfort him when Dell had left Mexico, trying to lose him up in his dark times before he turned thirteen, and trying to cheer him up when his OWLs had turned out even worse than expected. They clashed, too, being no less impulsive than the other, but when it came to it, when it was important, she was always there for him. Feeling no less awful than him whenever he struggled, crying with him whenever he worked through a heart-break, and staying up many long nights with him in the Common Room just talking about this and that. Both of them demanded to be their true selves, to not be disciplined or caged in for their needs and wishes, and this brought them closer. As Rigby grew more and more confident in who he was, Amelia grew proud of him, defending him whenever someone even dared mumbling something bad about him.

On the other hand, Edgar’s Eurasian Eagle-Owl Maxwell fluttered in at least weekly with a new letter from Dell. Knowing Dell, one could easily imagine that Edgar was heavily influenced by his principles and philosophies, but the truth was that Dell’s convictions were rooted in the factual problems one could pin point with a finger. He’s the kind of person to raise his voice when he gets heated about a topic he cares about, to accuse those who don’t live by their words with harsh insults, to actually goes through with what he preaches. Edgar on the other hand had always been soft-spoken and more passively curious about the world. When he speaks of what he’s learnt, he doesn’t offer advice, he doesn’t have unchangeable opinions or ever thinks himself more right than the kind person before him. But learning of Dell’s adventures was learning of the world out there, and that was why they wrote so many letters. And Dell? Well, Dell did patiently answer all of his brother’s questions and lectured gently through the parchment, but in truth, he too learnt from his brother open-minded way to view the universe, always surprised by what he found in those letters in the end.

Perhaps Amelia and Edgar would’ve gone on to live fairly separate lives, unwavered by what the other was doing whatsoever, forever. At first it seemed to work. Amelia went to study and do her traineeship at the Ministry, while Edgar went to travel around with Dell for a few months, then alone. They barely saw each other during that time. Loving each other still, yes, but no longer needing each other as desperately. Sometimes they joked about it. That they were grown up now. That they had done as Dumbledore had told them they would: become their own, full person. And then came the war. The Order. The first deaths. The intrusive thoughts, whispering doubt into this head that had always seemed sure of itself all these years. And Edgar found himself in Amelia’s arms again. She too saw the world changing, knowing of her twin’s secret only a few nights after the Order had sworn him in already, and she knew that whatever had happened -- they never spoke of the Order -- it had hurt him terribly. Therefore it hurt her too. By the age of twenty, they were as co-dependent as they had been with eleven. Child-like, clinging to each other, seeking each other’s warmth, feeling incomplete without the other there.

At age fifteen, when the heritage was rewritten in Edgar’s name, to be received after his marriage upon his first child’s birth, it mostly seemed like an awkward topic to talk about for him. But now? Now, at age twenty-eight with multiple failed, long-term relationships and death following his every step? While he does long for a peaceful family life, he doubts it’ll come soon. He is too anxious, he’d be distant, he’d not be able to commit to love someone he could so easily lose. Who could lose him even more easily. So his gaze goes to Amelia again, the same way it did when they were fifteen. But now his gaze goes to her because in theory she’s the one who lives the secure life, the one who could be a safety-bringing mother to her child. And his gaze goes to her because -- and no, he’d never admit it -- the idea of Amelia finding someone more important than him, makes him sick to his stomach...

Amelia wants Edgar to find someone to love that way, and she’s certain that it’ll happen for him eventually. But as unspoken as he is about it, they know they feel the same about it all. The idea he might love someone more than her terrifies her. She had a few relationships as well but the love never felt as deep, as palpable, as important as Edgar’s love, and sooner or later she’d sabotage it -- consciously as well as subconsciously --, make the other break up with her so she didn’t have to break their heart. So if he were to leave her, she’s certain she’d have no one left.

They could reject the Bones’ heritage as well. The family book into which the traditional vows are carved into and only ever need the names changed out, would probably sigh at their nonsense, but it wouldn’t refuse. These are the Bones we’re talking about, after all! When has a generation ever been easy? And as long as at least Laura Bones is alive, there’s no rush in inscribing the name into the vows just yet anyway. And who would receive the heritage then?

Colter. The youngest. The wildest. The most dangerous, courageous roaring lion that has ever lived. Being his father’s precious little treasure, he comes after him. When the Centello grandparents came to visit once, they said that Colter resembled Jorge so terribly, it was as though someone had turned the time thirty years back. And with every year he was surrounded by Gryffindors (he was a Hufflepuff but chose himself mostly Gryffindor friends), he became wilder and wilder. Amelia’s bratty influence certainly didn’t help. “Hey you go do this and see what mom says because you're the youngest and you can get away with it,” was her way to go about it, rather than acting like an older sibling. No sorrows seemed to weigh on Colter ever, no fears would ever affect his muscles, no injustice would ever pass his mind. He was the youngest and had it the easiest, never worrying about the future whatsoever. And so, when Edgar took him to the side one day and asked him how he’d feel about getting the heritage, he almost choked on a horrible laughing fit. Here he’d been, thinking to be left alone with all that traditional baggage, only to find his oldest brother a Cynic, his older brother queer as a 2/5th Knut and the twins too stupidly intense about each other to find another spouse.

He never said no, so that’s currently every Bones’ hope, but he did buy a one-way ticket as he left to tame dragons in northern Russia, so...

#{ it's rotten work }#{ wisdom begins in wonder }#listen #this is so long #it's #just so long #its a compilation of every hc ashley and i came up with so #please don't feel obliged to read this #it's ok i swear #and if you want to skim thru it it should be possible to just read the bolded stuff to give u an overview #i #yes #pls forgive

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alittlepieceofwarcraft · 6 years

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Void Elf: A Character Guide

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History

Evolution (Year -13,500): The void elves, or ren’dorei (”children of the void”), originate from blood elves, a race of elf that come from the Highborne, or high elves. These elves in turn are descended from night elves (first reported in Year -13,500). Even further back, these night elves are products of Dark trolls being exposed to Well of Eternity, these trolls in turn descending from Zandalari trolls. The high elf queen Azshara attempted to summon Sargeras through the Well of Eternity in Year -10,000, resulting in the single continent splitting into the four we know today, known as the Sundering. After this, the night elves forbade any use of arcane magic, fearing a second Sundering. Most of those who refused to cease this were high elves, thus leading to their banishment night elven lands. After the Scourge invasion of Quel’Thalas (Year -20), the high elves chose to take the name “blood elf” to honour the dead. From the blood elves come an assortment of sub-races: Wretched are blood elves who have been overcome by magical addiction, Felblood are those corrupted by The Burning Legion, San’layn are blood elves risen in Northrend to serve the Scourge, and lastly came a faction of their people who delved into the Void, known as Void elves, but were subsequently banished for their actions

Exile (Year -7,300): Many high elves refused to give up their use of arcane magic, seeing it as their birthright. They were then banished from night elven lands, guided by Dath'Remar Sunstrider. Their kingdom of Quel’Thalas is founded.

Exile ends: (Year -6,800): The construction of Silvermoon City is completed. Somewhere between the exile and this year, a font of power, The Sunwell, is created from a vial of stolen Well of Eternity water.

Joining the Alliance (Year 3): following the First War, the high elves ally themselves with the newly formed Alliance of Lordaeron.

Into Outland (Year 8): Alleria Windrunner accompanies an Alliance expedition to Outland and is later trapped on that side of the portal with her husband Turalyon. During their time, they find themselves on a part of the world close to Twisting Nether that was beginning to merge with the destructing world. They were found by Lothraxion, a former member of the Burning Legion who had joined the Army of the Light. They began training with the army under the guidance of the naaru Xe'ra upon the dimensional ship, the Xenedar wherein time moved differently for them than on Azeroth. During a raid on a Legion prison, she was attacked and infected with the void, learning of the Locus-Walker, a mysterious being who was a powerful master of the Void through its visions. She saw its potential in using it against the Legion, but Xe’ra rejected this notion.

The fall of Quel’Thalas (Year 20): during the Third War, a Scourge invasion headed by newly-made death knight Arthas Menethil assaults the city to use the Sunwell tor resurrect Kel’thuzad. Anasterian Sunstrider, great-grandson to Dath’Remar, and Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner are most notably among those to fall, the latter to be raised as a banshee. The high elves who survived rename themselves blood elves in honour of the deceased and are led by their Prince Kael’thas, son of Anasterian.

Leaving the Alliance (Year 22): in the hopes of finding a new source of power after the loss of the Sunwell, the Blood elves align themselves with Illidan Stormrage and the naga and venture into Outland.

The fall of Kael’thas: (Year 26): by this year, the Outland blood elves have captured the old naaru fortress, Tempest Keep, and send naaru M’uru back to Quel’Thalas. They would later use his spark to reignite the Sunwell. With the aid of Sylvanas, now freed from the undead Scourge, Azerothian blood elves are accepted into the Horde. Kael’thas allies himself with The Burning Legion and is killed in Tempest Keep. After himself being resurrected, Kael’thas retreats to Silvermoon to try and summon Kil’jaeden into Azeroth. He is defeated finally and Lor'themar Theron becomes regent-lord of Silvermoon. After the Sunwell is finally restored, some blood elves were adamant to prevent such a catastrophe and sought to harness other powers to protect the people of Silvermoon. Magister Umbric was a magister who decided to delve into study of the Void much to the disapproval of Grand Magister, Rommath. When their activities were discovered, Umbric and those practising Void magic were exiled. He led his group away from Eversong Woods and into the Ghostlands and there they uncovered the research of necromancer Dar'Khan Drathir that noted how he had tried to enter the void world to seize an object of power, but failed. However, Umbric managed to use the past work to succeed and open a way to Telogrus Rift.

A Dang Long Time (Year 28): While 20 years had passed on Azeroth, 500 had passed for Alleria. During a battle with the Legion on the remains of Outland, she called upon the Void rather than the Light and was captured by the Legion on Niskara with the Locus-Walker as a cell mate. Alleria used his teachings to kill the inquisitor torturing them and Locus-Walker opened a Void rift to escape. He told her the Void was her destiny and agreed to tutor her in its ways. She later received a vision of Turalyon being attacked and went to his aid, using the Void. Xe’ra demanded that Alleria renounce the Void and when she would not, she had her imprisoned.

Sister Searching (Year 32): Years of searching for Alleria led her younger sister Vereesa Windrunner to her prison cell in Niskara. Alleria’s bow Thas'dorah, Legacy of the Windrunners is recovered, yet Alleria is nowhere to be found, leading her sister to conclude that she managed to escape. During the Argus campaign, the Xenedar is later shot down while Alleria is still imprisoned under Xe’ra’s orders, allowing her to break free and aid in the execution of Aggonar. She and Turalyon are reunited with their son Arator and Vereesa is forced to reveal to Alleria the fate of their sister Sylvanas Windrunner and her current position as Warchief. Velen and Turalyon discovered that the Crest of Knowledge, a piece of the Crown of the Triumvirate, was inside the Seat of the Triumvirate on Mac'Aree and Alleria scouted the area before more go in. She uncovered that the naaru L'ura had become a beacon calling the Shadowguard after entering her Void state. She and an adventurer run into Locus-Walker again and wished to test her lessons. After slaying void revenant Nhal'athoth, he takes its heart for her to consume. Within the Seat itself, a battle between adventurers and Alleria and L’ura ensues, leading to Alleria absorbing her essence and fully transforming into a Void state.

An Unwelcome Guest (Year 33): King Anduin Wrynn sends emissaries out to various locations in order to recruit new races into The Alliance. Alleria is insistent on attempting to bring the blood elves back into the Horde and takes a pilgrimage to Silvermoon. Upon arrival, she discovers First Arcanist Thalyssra of the nightborne is already taking a tour of Silvermoon hosted by Lor’themar now its regent-lord. He refuses the offer, although allows her to see the Sunwell as she was a hero of the city in the past. However, as she was close enough to the Sunwell, void energies began to corrupt it and void beasts came forward, including one named Aruun the Darkener. She managed to close her rift, but Rommath believed she was a saboteur and demanded to have her imprisoned. Lor’themar instead exiled her from the city, viewing her as a danger to its people. She managed to track down Umbric with an adventurer by finding his writings and they reached Telogrus Rift. There, he showed her their efforts to unlock the power from an item, but this spawned Nether-Prince Durzaan into their plane and he had to be put down. Thankful for her help, Umbric pledged his and the void elves’ loyalty to the Alliance.

Physical traits

Life expectancy: Void elves can be assumed to have the same life expectancy as their blood elf counterparts which can be for thousands of years without ageing.

Height: void elves are shorter than other elf races with females being 5-5.5 foot on average and males being around 6.

Eye colour: They can have eyes ranging from colours of white, blue or purple.

Cosmetics: Some void elves have hair that changes colour due to their void energies.

Personality traits

Did Someone Say Something?: Void elves sacrifice much for their powers, including hearing whispers of the void in their mind. While some can control the voices, others may be slightly more paranoid and suspicious based on what they tell them. Some may even be driven mad if they cannot stop hearing them.

Uncertain Loyalties: Void elves are the only race to have switched faction twice, and Umbric has stated that they never felt love for the Horde but only served to protect Silvermoon. This may call into question moral dilemmas when having to attack blood elves or in the even of a Silvermoon invasion, a void elf may have to think twice before attacking.

Other races: They may find a kind of kinship with night elves due to their shared kinship, particularly night elven demon hunters who too were rejected from their society for delving into powers their people didn’t approve of. It’s not secret that because of their exile they’d hold a bitter grudge against blood elves but also may still feel a bond or nostalgia towards them because of their love of Silvermoon.

Other creatures: They ride Starcursed Voidstriders.

Culture

Languages: Void elves speak Thalassian and Common although due to Thalassian deriving from Darnassian they may also be able to understand that even if it’s on a basic level. They speak in what we would consider to be a thick British accent.

Government: They are led by Umbric and Alleria.

Military: All of their forces are pledged to the Alliance.

Religion: Void elves don’t have a specified religion, merely channelling the void rather than worshipping it. Some may hold the view that the Shadow cannot exist without the Light and vice versa, therefore justify continuing the old practice of worshipping the Light.

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cynically-optimistic · 6 years

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With a week to sit back and think “what the fuck did I just watch,” I thought I would now do a review of American Horror Story: Apocalypse.

As we know (and may or may not agree upon) ahs8 had its various strengths and weaknesses. Many aspects of this season I found riveting but unfortunately by the end of episode 10, the season is left chalked full of plot holes and continuity errors that effectively make so much of this particular story obsolete. This season had all of the components we have loved for years and the potential to be the most amazing season yet, however it fell flat either in the writers room or the editing room. They cultivated this story for 8 years but with the vast underdevelopment of this season and it’s protagonists, they have effectively caused us to ask more questions like what was the entire point of season 8 of American Horror Story?

So here are some notable plot holes and criticisms I have for AHS: Apocalypse.

First and foremost, my biggest problem with this season is that we have almost no information about Mallory at all and they never spend time developing her character. And what the actual fuck is she? There is no way she is a witch, and this season was drastically underwhelming in this regard. I think we were all expecting an epic, biblical battle for the end of days to be fought between the Antichrist and the second coming of Christ or even an Archangel, but no such luck. It is only ever said that Mallory is just a witch...just a witch who got on my fucking nerves. We spent the whole season in flashbacks pertaining to Michael and never developing Mallory any further beyond “oh well her powers are cool,” and honestly, what gives? She has these amazing powers, never before seen by the witches, and we’re just supposed to believe that she isn’t some sort of celestial being? By the time she does defeat Michael, she is not a character we empathize with, she was basically an empty shell of the potentially badass character she was supposed to be. She has all of these powers and runs a 4 year old Michael Langdon over with an SUV...thrice….three times… Mallory could have been an amazing character and I would have completely rooted for her to defeat Michael with all the righteousness of Heaven, regardless of his tragic backstory that the writers spent too fucking long cultivating. But since we know practically nothing about her, all I can say is that she’s just ended up being a dick who murdered a child. Yeah, he was going to end the world, but he had the potential to be turned around, as depicted in his extensive backstory. Too many people wanted him to survive and just be allowed to end the world because Cody Fern is hot and Michael Langdon falls into the typical “tragic backstory, white, villain dude who is moderately conventionally attractive and therefore should be allowed to murder people without scrutiny.” He fits in that trope to a T and it works regardless of it being a tired trope fandom culture tends to fawn over. But no, I truly think, because of the amount of time they cultivated his character in both the light and dark, he could’ve been not such an evil son of a bitch. I cannot say the same for other examples of this trope like Tate Langdon, or Kylo Ren from Star Wars, or even Loki to some extents. This paragraph was supposed to be about Mallory but here again, I have veered into talking about Michael since he is her direct counterpart with way more backstory. I wish I had more to say about Mallory but she was such a blank slate. It’s sad that Coco of all people had more of a personality and backstory. We knew everything we needed to know about Coco and we knew literally NOTHING about Mallory. Ugh. In no way is this a criticism of Billie Lourd, I honestly think she just fell victim to bad writing this time around.

How did Emily and Timothy conceive the new antichrist when in season 1, Billie directly states that the antichrist, who would bring about the end of days, had to be conceived via human and spirit - like Michael. Furthermore, what is this “special DNA” Emily and Timothy have? We can surmise that it makes antichrists but HOW? And how did the Cooperative isolate and identify this DNA makeup to send these two individuals to Outpost 3 in the first place? And if the Cooperative knew that they could potentially make a new antichrist, did Michael know about it? My guess is no, but we will never know. Which begs the question, is the new anti christ going to be worse and if so, what was even the point of this season? Either way, in a few years, the entire world is fucked…again. The only redeemable aspect of that for Michael was that he craved to be loved and spent most of his time looking for someone to care about him rather than carrying out the Devil’s plans. Constance didn’t do this so he went searching for it and was systematically turned away which lead him right into the arms of his true father. This new kid is deeply loved by Emily and Timothy, and without the potential failsafe of him wishing to be loved and cared for, I believe this kid will be so much worse than Michael.

What is the Rubberman? The only new information we have gotten on this since season 1 is from Cody who says that Rubberman is not always Michael or Tate, but something else entirely. Like what? A demon? And it’s literally never addressed. Rubberman shows up unexpectedly (unexpectedly because you know, the world ended…) in Outpost 3, fucks Mr Gallant (why doesn’t he have a first name by the way? ) and is then the catalyst for Mr Gallant murdering his grandmother. So what exactly is this entity?

Also, what was the Sanctuary supposed to be? I don’t think it was just bullshit on Michael’s part to fuck with the desperate people in the Outposts. I do believe there was a sanctuary but we never see it and we never get any further information. I saw some interesting theories that maybe the Sanctuary is the Murder House, which would have been so interesting given that everyone in there rejected Michael, but he might still care about them, and potentially save the house in the nuclear blasts.

{Trigger Warning for sexual assault on this one regarding Tate Langdon} I think the theory Madison has about Murder House is a little off base. She tells Violet that the house made Tate evil but… here’s the thing: yes, we have watched the house and it’s resident ghosts interfere and influence people’s actions, but ultimately they all make their own choices, like Lorraine who set the house on fire which killed herself and her two daughters, and then influences Ben’s sleepwalking and fabricating his obsession with fire, but nothing drastic ever comes from this. So, I honestly don’t believe the house forced Tate to set Larry on fire (as revenge for Larry killing Beau) and shoot up his high school, killing 15 people, because those atrocities did NOT take place in the house. I don’t even know if I can believe that the house possessed and forced him to r*pe Viven and impregnate her with Michael but that seems to be the only horrific thing he did that could even begin to be blamed on the house. The house is a Hellmouth but doesn’t affect those who leave it’s property lines apart from encouraging them to return, almost like an addiction, but one that you can dismiss by just not going back to the house. So while Return to Murder House is a lovely nostalgic experience, I call bullshit. Ultimately though, I do think Madison was just trying to help and give the souls trapped there a little peace which was nice of her, but I’m not fully convinced she was right about Tate.

What happened to Kyle? This season was a crossover between Murder House and Coven but he is never mentioned by Madison or Zoe and is never shown at Miss Robichaux’s Academy. So where is our favorite unproblematic zombie Evan Peters at?

One huge problem I had with this season was Cordelia. She spent this entire season fighting her own fear of decay and death, while trying not to be like Fiona, and ultimately bringing them all to their doom. She sees a vision of the future apocalypse and every single step she takes thereafter to avoid it is a contributing factor that leads them all directly to it. Michael only fully set his sights on murdering all of the witches after Cordelia burnt Ms. Mead at the stake. Mead wasn’t even a witch, so how was that acceptable under witch law? Cordelia wasn’t even allowed to light the fire to burn the warlocks, so how was she allowed to murder a normal human? Mead may have been a ruthless spy and a satanist, but she was human all the same. Then Cordelia tells Michael, as he is devastated to find the charred corpse of Ms. Mead, that he can still choose to be good. Let’s be real, anyone of us would tell her to fuck off and set our sights on revenge if she did that to one of our loved ones. By having another maternal figure taken away from Michael, the only one who accepted and loved him (in her own way) Cordelia put the nails in her own coffin and that of the world. She is among the notable figures that push him along the darkest path, such as Constance, Ben, Tate, Viven, the Warlocks, Ms. Mead (even though she loved him, she loved Lucifer more), the Satanists, The Cooperative, and Mutt & Jeff. He is manipulated at every turn to bring about a future of mass destruction that other people want, and Cordelia was a definite contributor, but let it be known that Michael’s actions are ultimately his own.

The fact that Madison never met Charles, Nora, or Thaddeus while she was at the Murder House is a travesty. That would have been SOOOO interesting.

What the fuck was Ms. Venable’s issue? She was such an asshole to everyone and we never really figure out why other than she works for a bunch of idiots.

I enjoyed the culture around the warlocks because it was so ridiculous, they were the whiniest bunch of assholes, but I also hated this because they were the whiniest bunch of asshole. They were so desperate to overthrow Cordelia, even though none of them even come close to being able to do so (sorry not sorry boys) that they basically invite the apocalypse into their school. The only one who was like “nah, this is probably a bad idea,” was John Henry Moore, played by the incomparable Cheyenne Jackson, who I wish had bigger role to play in this storyline. He was the only warlock worth a damn, but ultimately they were all murdered. Or wait, no they weren’t. Time travel..

Some of the things changed by Mallory’s time traveling:

The warlocks are never murdered but they are still a bunch of whiny assholes

Tate and Violet don’t get back together (good)

Michael never destroys those nice lesbians’ souls, or anyone souls, which is good but who knows what this new Antichrist is capable of and when he will begin to tap into those powers

Constance (as far as we know) doesn’t commit suicide in the Murder House

Moira never finds peace in the light with her mom

Viven and Ben never reconcile

Which also means that Ben is still spending all of his time with Tate and crying while he masturbates out the window so…

Michael never lives in the Murder House

Ben never connects with Michael, Tate never screams at him in disgust, and Viven never tries to kill him

Queenie is never murdered in the Hotel Cortez by Ramona Royale and James Patrick March

Cordelia never has to bring Myrtle back from the dead, so she is still gone

Madison is still trapped in her own personal hell and Mallory doesn’t feel the need to bring her back even though Madison was way more useful this season than Mallory was. We knew Madison, we cared about her, we watched her grow into being a caring person this season, and Mallory is the self righteous ass that thinks Madison doesn’t deserve to leave hell

Michael is never taken in by Ms Mead. He never attends Black Mass and he never eats that poor girl’s heart (all of this was encouraged and initiated by the Satanists - not Michael)

Marie Laveau is still in hell with Papa Legba. She was anyway because Michael ripped her heart out of her chest 2 seconds after she got back but she never returned at all thanks to Mallory

Dinah obviously never gets her talkshow but she is still out here being shady as fuck and will inevitably betray the witches and voodoo queens again, probably for a fucking talkshow, when the new antichrist is running around burning the world down

The end of days doesn’t come, but again, we don’t know that for sure. At best, Mallory only bought the world and the witches a few extra years. So we can only really say that the apocalypse might not happen the exact way Michael (the Cooperative) makes it happen

Some of the thing I actually liked about this season:

THE ENTIRE FIRST HALF WAS INCREDIBLE and it’s really the lack of development throughout the final 4 or 5 episodes I had an issue with

Cody Fern is undeniably a spectacular performer and I very much enjoyed all of the layer and nuance that he brought to the character of Michael Langdon even though in the end it didn’t amount to much. Still, I can’t wait to see what he does next.

I have always loved Cordelia, and even though I very much expected her to be an influence of growth for Mallory and she never really got there, she was still a lovely presence and she spoke some of my favorite lines in this season being “Satan has one son, but my sisters are a legion, motherfucker,” and “I only knew you for a short time, but I missed you forever.”

DayFoxx or MistyXCordelia. You cannot convince me they are not in love, you just can’t. Their interactions were nothing short of magic.

Other than DayFoxx interactions, hands down the best line was, “the stew is Stu!”

Return to Murder House was arguably one of the best episodes of the entire series, directed by one of our high queens, Sarah Paulson in her directorial debut. It had everything we loved about season 1 and I would have loved to watch 5 hours of Madison walking through Murder House, meeting all the ghosts, instead of the last 5 hours of the season we got.

As much as I grew to hate Constance this season, it was still so lovely to have our Queen Jessica Lange back.

Sign me up anytime to see Angela Bassett as Marie Laveau like holy hell yes

I absolutely LOVED the idea of Zoe being a teacher at the Academy.

We could have all benefited from seeing more of Bubbles. Joan Collins was a fantastic addition to the AHS family.

FRANCIS CONROY. Need I say more? I don’t but I will, Myrtle dragging the patriarchy cleansed my soul

It was actually really lovely to see Connie Britton as Viven again. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for Viven and I feel terrible for everything she has been through. She never gets closure because of Mallory’s new timeline but I just hope she does find peace at some point.

With this rich of a storyline, I think we can all agree that 10 episodes was simply not enough to fully deliver this story after a build up of 8 years. Other seasons of AHS range from 11 to 13 episodes, with the exception of Roanoke which was also only 10 episodes. But with those extra hours, Apocalypse could have been incredible. There simply wasn’t enough time, and what time they did have and utilize was almost entirely spent on Michael which we find didn’t matter at all by the end.

Leave your thoughts in the comments if you have anything you’d like to add.

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awed-frog · 6 years

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I only just learned that Christine Nöstlinger died last week. It’s the kind of news that leaves you both sad and slightly incredulous, because even as an adult, it’s hard to see someone like Nöstlinger as a real person. To me, she’ll always be a funny, exotic name on the cover of a book - she was one of my favourite writers when I was a young child, and I don’t think it ever occurred to me that those people - people like Roald Dahl, Astrid Lindgren, Bianca Pitzorno or Michael Ende - actually existed in the real world, and did things as mundane as wear pajamas or brush their teeth. In fact, as I was scrolling through a couple of obituaries today, I was surprised to learn Nöstlinger was Austrian, not Swedish (her books were side by side with Lindgren’s on my shelf) and that if her stories were always delightfully subversive, it’s probably because she grew up in Nazi Austria and experienced that reality first-hand. And while I do understand this is a thing that happens - that people have lives, that they must be born somewhere and do stuff and exist in actual reality - as I read of her death I became a child of eight again; what I found myself mourning was that name on my bookshelf - nothing more. I am slightly ashamed of that, of knowing nothing about this person who brought me so much joy, because over the last few years, I’ve gotten to know some YA writers and I now have a new appreciation of how hard they work and how determined they are to make a difference - not only to make children happy, that is, but also to teach them how to think for themselves, to help them engage with the world around them with full awareness. And so, to honour Christine Nöstlinger and her work, I decided to translate a speech she gave to the Austrian Parliament for the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Mauthausen. I couldn’t find an English version of it, and I think it deserves to be more widely read - especially today.

“I was almost two when the Mauthausen concentration camp was opened, and as the last survivors were freed by American troops, I turned eight. For this reason, you could think this is not a subject I remember hearing about or discussing.

But I do.

I didn’t know the word Mauthausen, but I was certainly familiar with the expression ‘concentration camp’. I would hear it again and again as my grandma grumbled about the Nazis with the dairywoman or at the grocer’s. That’s when someone would whisper in warning: ‘You’ll get in trouble!’, they’d say; or: ‘You keep talking like that, you’ll end up in a concentration camp!’.

One memory is particularly clear and vivid in my mind: my uncle, my mom’s kid brother, is visiting us. He stands in his SS uniform, tall and broad, very close to my mother, and says: ‘Ella, the Jews are all going to pass through the chimney!’. And my mother, who was much shorter than he was, went red with rage and slapped him across the face. I think that was the first and only time my normally placid mother ever hit someone.

Obviously, I didn’t understand what ‘pass through the chimney’ meant, but I could guess it was something really bad. And that was the day I understood that Mr Fischl had passed through the chimney.

Mr Fischl was a shoemaker, and he’d had a shop in our alley. He’d resole shoes, repair heels and fix the toe caps so that those who couldn’t afford it wouldn’t have to buy new shoes for their growing children. In 1938, shortly after the Anschluss, my mother witnessed a chilling scene as she was coming home from work: a group of SA soldiers had dragged Mr Fischl out of his shop and they were now forcing him to scrub clean the three white arrows some regime opponents had painted on the wall. A truck was parked in the street, full of grinning SA men. Mr Fischl, on his knees, was surrounded by his amused neighbours. My mother, with a heavy heart, moved to the other side of the street and walked on; she later heard Mr Fischl had been taken away that very day. Soon after those events, an ‘Aryan’ shoemaker took over both Mr Fischl’s shop and his apartment. Nobody ever mentioned Mr Fischl again - nobody, that is, except my mother. Again and again, she’d tell my sister and me what had happened to him. She always felt guilty she hadn’t done anything to stop it, and would always justify that choice to herself by saying: ‘If I hadn’t had children waiting for me at home, I would have gone there and sent those thugs packing!’.

I was a child then, and when you’re a child you need to see your mother as someone who’s big and strong and powerful - especially if your father has been away in Russia for a long time. I hadn’t known then that adults sometimes lie to themselves. For this reason, I was thoroughly convinced that my mother would indeed have saved Mr Fischl if I had never been born. ‘Where did they take Mr Fischl?’ I asked once, and when my mother answered bluntly ‘To a concentration camp.’, I came to believe his death had been my fault.

This irrational sense of guilt started to fade away when I finally noticed that my mother was neither strong nor powerful: she was small and helpless, and definitely not capable of sending anyone packing.

But not being guilty is not the same as not being responsible. Many people have fully accepted this, and have done their best to bear witness for future generations - they’ve tried to explain where racism once led us; they’ve stood up and spoke out whenever the mood was souring against a minority group.

Now, that’s not an easy thing to do, and many others were simply too uncomfortable to even try. Instead, those people interfered with this effort to remember, pretended they hadn’t known what was going on, complained about what they themselves had lost in the war, and basked in the self-serving idea of a ‘new beginning’. In order to expedite this ‘new beginning’, our post-war governments were not particularly keen to prosecute those who’d been implicated in Nazi crimes. To be perfectly blunt, those people were simply too many to be locked away. Without them, there would have been no possibility to establish a functioning state. Where on Earth would we have found a sufficient number of teachers and civil servants with a perfectly clean slate soon after the end of the war?

Meanwhile, the efforts to welcome back home those Jews and political opponents who’d managed to flee abroad were lukewarm at best. And there was no question of even discussing how to better integrate the Roma and Sinti communities - or, those among them who’d survived. For all of those reasons, my generation and my children’s generation have grown up in a country in which racism, far from being a bad memory, was instead an ongoing, deep-seated conviction passed down from father to son and from mother to daughter.

And today, not much has changed for the better. The only difference is that racism now presents itself under a different guise. Nobody dares to use (and few to even think) words like ‘master race’, ‘subhuman’, ‘Rassenschande’ and ‘final solution’. There is a strong taboo around them.

No, our current form of racism simply rejects all that is foreign. It sees native people as being threatened by an unsustainable wave of immigration; it insists that foreigners have it easy, and what it means by that is: ‘Those people want to live off us, they want to take something away from us!’.

Those who think these things, those who say them openly when they know others will agree, well - they won’t write racist slogans on the walls, won’t vandalize Jewish tombs, won’t insult a veiled woman, won’t beat up black people or set fire to refugee centres. On the other hand, what they do is giving confidence and justification to the people who actually do all these things; the certainty that they’re acting in everybody’s best interest. They are the fertile ground upon which violence grows.

And the number of minorities against whom people ‘have something’ (in the best case) or ‘do something’ (in the worst) is already increasing. To the traditional victims of disapproval and aggression, today we can add asylum seekers and economic refugees (no matter where they come from); also people with a migration background (no matter whether they’re Austrian citizens or not). And obviously, people whose skin is a different colour. Today, however, unlike what happened in the Nazi era, total assimilation seems to protect from hostility. And I fear that when we’re talking about ‘more integration’, well - to the large majority of the population, what that really means is ‘assimilation’. We do not want to experience and get used to what is foreign and unknown; we want those who only just arrived to adapt to our traditional way of life, and that will rarely succeed. That’s why we are uneasy with living with people from unfamiliar cultures. For a long time now, our politicians’ solution to this problem has been to wait and hope that the issue will fade as those who’re already here slowly become more tolerant and those who have recently moved here slowly learn how to fit in. Often, these expectations have been met; but just as often they have not.

What we need to do is implement concrete measures: for instance, compulsory kindergarten attendance and all-day schools. We need properly trained teachers so that children who speak a different language at home can learn German quickly and efficiently. That way, as they start school, both their language skills and their chances to have a good education will be the same as those of the native speakers. This is the only way to prevent the emergence of parallel societies in vulnerable neighbourhoods. Better schools are also the only viable tool to weaken the deeply ingrained racism of most of our local population. Let’s remember that those who know nothing will believe everything, even the most outrageous nonsense and the most shameless distortion of facts.

That said, we still need to understand why so many people prefer to believe racists over those who say that it’s perfectly possible to coexist peacefully (if not to truly share our lives with others). Maybe there is a reason; maybe our skin doesn’t have seven layers, as we all have learned, but eight. Maybe this eighth layer is a ‘civilisation skin’. We are not born with it. It appears and changes as we grow up. Whether it’s thick or thin, well, that depends on how well we look after it. If we don’t care for it properly, it stays thin and tears easily. And what seeps from those wounds may lead to consequences that will again cause us to say: ‘No one ever wanted that’.”

Christine Nöstlinger, 2015

#christine nöstlinger #austria #history #ww2 #antisemitism #racism #children's books #childhood memories #man she was awesome #if you have kids #please buy her books #they're really good

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thechembow · 6 years

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Orgonite Myths Debunked

Towerbusters ready for gridding in the environment

Most people have never heard of orgonite, let alone orgone energy, the life force energy discovered by Wilhelm Reich in the 1930s. At the time of his scientific discovery, the existence of this energy had already been known by cultures who understood that there was a life force energy throughout us and the universe known by other names, such as chi or prana. Wilhelm Reich used orgone energy in cancer treatment, atmospheric cleaning, and drought abatement with great success. This energy has been suppressed for decades by the false rulers because of its great ability to improve human life.

Wilhelm Reich

More people are now becoming aware of orgonite, an invention based on Reich’s research, which is used to neutralize EMF and to clean the sky of air pollution, most notably chemtrails. However, among those who have heard of orgonite, how it works is largely misunderstood. More often than not, the reaction to hearing about orgonite is that it is just a bunch of unscientific, new age, hippie nonsense. This is an understandable reaction, as it was my first thought too when I first began researching solutions to chemtrails back in 2013. When the light bulb went off over my head and I did a search for videos on YouTube on “how to stop chemtrails,” orgonite was the first thing to come up. The purpose of my search was to find ideas on how to actually stop chemtrails, not on how to waste my time writing letters to parasites who work for a business called “the government.” Somehow I knew intuitively that there had to be a real world solution and did the search as if guided by an outside force.

But when I saw what orgonite looked like, I immediately thought there would be no way a small lump of resin, metal, and crystals could do anything against something as formidable as geoengineering. To add to the disbelief was the fact that I could find no competent explanation online of how it worked. All I could find was mystical new age nonsense, and a whole lot of disinformation. Finally, I saw a video referencing the work of Ken Rohla, an electrical engineer who explained the science of scalar energy, which is the physics term for orgone energy. Once I got the scientific explanation, tried making orgonite, and observed the amazing results, not just in the sky, but in my own life, I realized how important orgonite was for everyone and everything that lives on Earth.

Since first hearing about orgonite in 2013, finally making it in 2014, and distributing thousands of orgonite towerbusters into the environment to the present day, I have learned more and more about how deep the orgone energy rabbit hole goes. The suppression campaign is everywhere, and often where you least expect it. A small piece of disinformation may discourage you from even trying out a piece and feeling the great benefits in your life. So let’s dispel some of these orgonite myths which have hindered mainstream acceptance of orgonite and orgone energy for too long.

If you have a piece of orgonite, you will not see chemtrails over your home. Orgonite is a free energy device that constantly provides orgone energy to clean the atmosphere and neutralize deadly energy. This does not stop parasites from laying down chemtrails. Orgone energy repels toxins away from the Earth through a “scalar wave vortex,” the same orgone energy field found on mountaintops and at the peaks of pyramids. Chemtrails break up in this healthy energy field, and funnel shaped and even rounded lenticular clouds often result because the vortex is spiraling. One cannot expect a completely blue sky when there are two sides of an energetic war going at it up there. One can, however, watch how orgone energy works to clean the pollution and enjoy the liberating feeling that chemtrails are no longer a threat.

Orgonite blocks EMF. Orgonite is a generator of orgone energy, which restructures the chaotic waveform of EMF. It quiets the wave and makes it more coherent so that it passes through the body more gently and with less disruption to the body’s own natural energy field. The EMF is neutralized, but is still there, which is why cell phones and wifi still work, and why EMF meters may or may not show a noticeable change in the presence of orgonite. A metal box can fully block EMF, and it can also be attenuated with a Faraday cage around the offending emitter. The cage doesn’t block 100% of EMF, but rather absorbs it into the metal cage material, reducing exposure significantly. Turning off your cell phones and other wireless devices is the most effective way to remove EMF from your environment.

Wispy, funnel shaped clouds in the sky are not chemtrail material, but rather are air spirits called sylphs, who are attracted to orgonite and have come to eat the pollution. I feel like this myth discredits itself without my having to say anything. People who are deathly afraid of chemtrails (the non-orgonite people), look at funnel shaped clouds with fear. Mystical new agers may see them as angels or spirits. While these shapes can look angelic or terrifying, depending on your favored source of disinformation, they are actually a great sign that a scalar wave vortex is throwing particulate pollution away from the Earth.

You can’t use aluminum in orgonite. Aluminum is pretty standard in tactical orgonite, such as towerbusters and holy hand grenades. It is lightweight and inexpensive, so it’s a great material to use if you plan on gifting a large area. You may use any type of metal in orgonite, including aluminum, iron, brass, copper, steel, and more, as long as the shavings are fine and plentiful. Many people have a stigma against aluminum because you’re not supposed to ingest it, and because it is believed that aluminum is an ingredient in chemtrails. Fortunately, you won’t be eating your orgonite. Georg Ritchl of Orgonise Africa and us here at Team Chembow swear by aluminum TBs, and we’ve both documented great results cleaning up our environments with them. The idea that aluminum may block orgone energy may apply to large pieces of aluminum in orgonite, but one would not want any large pieces of any metal in orgonite, only fine shavings.

The copper coil must be wound clockwise. Copper coils are not even necessary for functioning orgonite. Many people do not use them at all. According to Dowin Gardner, author of The Science of Rain, a copper coil increases the “electro-momentum” of the orgonite. They help to increase negative ions in the atmosphere, which clean the air and encourage the hydrogen bonding of water molecules for healthy clouds. Copper coils may be wound clockwise or counterclockwise with an equal effect.

Orgonite can go bad through absorbing negative energy, and will need to eventually be thrown away or destroyed. Orgonite is a perpetually functioning free energy device, which keeps working as long as it exists. We have revisited places that were gifted over the years, and based on the healthy atmosphere, abundant plant growth, happy people, and birds on cell phone towers, we can see that the orgonite is still working. Birds will only sit on a cell phone tower which has been gifted with a piece of orgonite because its deadly energy has been neutralized. Orgonite doesn’t absorb DOR (deadly radiation such as EMF). It simply transmits OR (orgone) into the atmosphere, restructuring the DOR and rendering it useless in the parasitic weather warfare and mind control agenda.

The government can “pulse” orgonite and render it inert. Orgonite cannot be “turned off.” In an environment that has a piece of orgonite, if additional EMF emitters are introduced, more orgonite may be necessary to continue to enjoy a pure atmosphere. The worst thing “they” can do is add DOR sources, but it is up to us to reject the addictive technology of smart phones if we ever want to see an end to this. For now, any orgonite placed in the environment will continue to function. The government does not have the technology to disable orgonite, nor does that technology exist. Orgone energy is the highest form of defense and the most powerful energy in the universe. We just need to increase it on Earth to create an environment where the parasites can no longer thrive.

They can also find your orgonite gifts and remove them from the environment. I wouldn’t even be able to find the orgonite we’ve gifted anymore. The idea is to hide it well in dense foliage or under the ground. They do know when their DOR sources are neutralized, but all they can do is try harder to DORize in the push and pull of the energetic war between OR and DOR. We’re giving these mindless parasites just a little too much credit to think they can locate and remove the orgonite. We’ve observed that our gifts are still in place, and if we ever feel that one has been removed, we simply replace it. Any orgonite that can be seen will likely be removed, but probably because no one knows what it is.

Orgonite was invented by Karl Welz. We just don’t know for sure. He takes credit for it and trademarked the word “orgonite” in 2003, after Don Croft, Georg Ritschl, and others were already making and gifting orgonite around the world. Welz claims to have been using the word “orgonite” in commerce since 1995. The trademark is in the scientific equipment category, not arts and crafts, and refers to a device whose function is a “psychic energy magnet.” This is not the type of device that we or other orgonite makers are manufacturing. He also harasses orgonite makers worldwide with aggressive and threatening e-mails for using “his” word, and has had numerous orgonite shops online, including Team Chembow’s Etsy store, shut down even in the absence of the trademarked word. The collusion between Welz and corrupt corporations like Etsy to suppress orgonite makers to the point of an unlawful disruption of the artisans’ businesses shows a total lack of understanding of the very life force energy he claims to work with. Welz offers licenses at a cost of $500 per year to be allowed to use the word “orgonite” in online marketplaces.

Orgonite converts negative orgone energy into positive orgone energy. There is no such thing as negative or positive orgone energy. Wilhelm Reich’s term, DOR, or deadly orgone radiation, is unfortunately somewhat confusing. He used it to describe immobilized life force, or stagnating energy. DOR simply means the opposite of OR, or orgone energy, which is always positive and life giving. We use the term DOR to describe any type of deadly radiation, including EMF and nuclear radiation. “POR” or “positive orgone radiation” is not part of Reich’s scientific terminology and appears nowhere in his books.

Orgonite must be grounded or it can transfer deadly energy to you. There is no need to ground orgonite. It works fine on a tabletop, under your pillow, in the ocean, under the ground, or anywhere on Earth. Orgonite never transmits anything other than life force energy.

There are specific dimensions for orgonite, based on sacred geometry. Orgonite’s function is based on the combination of ingredients, not the shape of the device. Pyramids work great, but so do puck shaped towerbusters. As long as the orgonite contains a good amount of fine metal shavings, quartz crystals, and an optional copper coil in a medium of catalyzing resin, it will function properly.

Orgonite can be dangerous if not made correctly. The worst thing orgonite can be is ineffective. It is never dangerous. It’s an extremely simple device with an astoundingly powerful function. Anyone can make it.

After an area has had a lot of orgonite gifted to it, if there is a “whiteout” sky or a lot of chemtrails it means the orgonite isn’t working. A flat, overcast sky is the result of heavy DOR, which causes air pollution to linger and inhibits the formation of coherent and healthy clouds. After orgonite is gifted to a new area, there is often a parasitic backlash against the influx of healthy orgone energy. They will fight back to DORize as hard as they can. If you watch the sky throughout the day, you will see an eventual breakdown of any chemtrails and the process of transmutation will reveal a deepening blue sky and the formation of spiral shaped, and eventually puffy clouds. The sky will then clear. If there are still towers which have not been gifted, the parasites will use them to their full extent to try and undo your work, so just get them later! The “whiteout” is a psy-op to make the gifter feel discouraged, as if his gifts aren’t working. Understand that they will always DORize, and we must continue to make and gift orgonite. It’s a war.

Chembusters, or orgonite cloudbusters, can create cataclysmic weather and should not be used. While Wilhelm Reich’s Cloudbuster could only be operated by a professional and could only be used for short increments of time because of its extreme effects on weather restoration, the orgonite cloudbuster, attributed to Don Croft, also known as the chembuster, is much less powerful. It still does great work to balance the weather over a considerable distance, but in a slower and more natural way that anyone can use regardless of experience with orgone energy tools. The orgonite cloudbuster is just a very large orgonite, which is always beneficial and never harmful.

It’s better to use an environmentally friendly medium, such as plaster or beeswax, rather than polyester resin, when making orgonite. To make powerful orgonite, a catalyzing resin is necessary. You can make devices for your home using other materials, but the effect will be about as strong as what the crystals would produce without being put into a device made with plaster or beeswax. In order to activate the piezoelectric properties of quartz, the crystals must be squeezed upon by the resin as it hardens through the chemical reaction of catalyzation. Orgonite needs to be powerful and durable to last in the environment and take down the dark control grid. This is no time to worry about minutia, like the usage of small amounts of petroleum to bring about sweeping environmental clean-ups. There is no need to demonize materials from the Earth which some corporations use irresponsibly, when we can use them for good.

Orgonite makes some people feel bad and is disagreeable to them. While this may be true, it is not the human being that dislikes the effect. It is the parasite that has attached itself etherically to that human that dislikes it. If you have an intestinal parasite, you will crave the foods it desires, not what’s actually good for you. People who are under heavy mind control and are addicted to DOR (like heavy smart phone users) often cannot handle orgone energy. It is contrary to what they’re used to. They have etheric parasites enjoying a banquet of their negative emotions every day, and these parasites get angry when their food source is diminished, so they may take it out on the human as an etheric attack. It is actually this attack that is disagreeable to the human, but he may misconstrue orgonite as the source of the problem. This is similar to when you detox and feel sick temporarily as the toxins are released from the body. It is not the detox supplement, but the releasing toxins which are creating the unpleasant, and temporary, effect.

In conclusion, I could not imagine a life without orgonite to keep me safe from deadly energies, ensure healthy rainy seasons, keep the air clean, and generally improve my own health and life force energy. It is my sincere hope that having read this article, that you will try out a piece of properly made orgonite, or even make your own. Easy to follow tutorials on orgonite making are available at www.thechembow.com, as well as everything you need to know about how they work and how our environment has experienced a total turnaround since we started gifting orgonite in 2014.

There is no reason to feel helpless or depressed, when the solution to geoengineering and EMF, including the 5G network everyone is so afraid of, is here with us now! Considering the suppression campaign of orgone energy since Wilhelm Reich discovered it, it is no surprise that orgonite is also being suppressed via disinformation campaigns all over the internet. Anyone who has used orgonite and enjoyed its effects would never portray it as potentially dangerous, would avoid making it sound crazy and unscientific, and would never try to stop anyone from experiencing the life changing benefits of something so simple and fun to make at home. With an understanding of the science of orgonite, we can easily debunk the mystical nonsense which has relegated this greatest of technologies to the lunatic fringe and finally make orgonite a household word.

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