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alltheworldsinmyhead · 4 years

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ON FEYSAND’S PLOTLINE IN ACOSF

!!!!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE ACOSF!!!!

Let’s be honest for a while, okay?

ACOCF had potential to be SJM’s best book, if not for any other reason then because of the sheer idea of it. Coming-of-age, healing story of the most complex and polarizing character she has ever created set in the time of peace, away from the familiar setting (according to the later changed concept which still remains in the snippet at the end of ACOFAS), development of her arguably most feisty and angsty love story... It could be her absolute trumph. Even with the change to stick to Velaris instead of exploring the Illyrian culture of the Mountains and with the added conflict of the Mortal Queens and Koshei, it still could work quite well.

It didn’t. For many, many reasons, but the most important one, in my opinion, being the feysand pregnancy plot.

Nothing about this plotline made sense. Not a single thing. From start to finish, it was an absolute disaster from the character-writing POV, from the narration POV, from every single context of it. It broke the rules of real-life logic, it broke the rules of this fantasy world setting and it completely exposed that Rhysand, while not a bad guy, is a pretty terrible partner, even worse ruler and an absolutely terrible contender for the High King title.

Let’s break this whole mess down (and expect this post to be mammoth-sized. it’s not my fault, though, write to SJM if you have any complains):

1) Feyre, 21, decides to get pregnant, even though less than a year earlier, she expresses the delight with not being forced to bear children to her new mate and told him herself she wants to wait a while and enjoy her life with him. Feyre decides she wants a baby though and Rhysand goes along with it, even though he is aware how young Feyre is and how hard her life has been up until this point. He wants a baby too much to have an honest discussion with Feyre about it, to stop and wonder what is the reason for her sudden change of heart, to reassure her that they have a lot of time ahead of them and don’t need to rush. No. She mades a sudden decision to have a baby after A YEAR OF MARRIAGE and not much more of being turned fae, JUST AFTER having her whole world put upside down, having received a completely new title and responsibilities, surviving the wat and being mated. Great.

2) Feyre decides to get pregnant and Rhys goes along with it less than a year after the end of the bloody war. It is politically a delicate time, everyone is still not sure how the balance will shift, some countries don;t want to sign the peace treaty, etc. There are a lot of enemies and a lot of turmoil remaining. But sure. Let’s have a baby. Perfect time to add yet another target, another weakness that can be use by the Mortal Queens, Beron or whatever else with malicious intent towards the Night Court.

2) Feyre gets pregnant after approximately a year of trying. I know healthy people of reproductive age for whom it takes ages more than this. Fae’s pregnancies are rare af and precious and happen once in a blue moon, but ofc SJM broke the world’s rules for her darling Feyre. And again, for Kallas and Vivianne who are also expecting the baby, even though it has been a maximum of 3 years since they’ve mated. 3 years is also not a particularly long time to try to have a baby for those who have issues with their reproductive systems like Fae women. Thank you, next.

3) Rhys has unprotected sex with Feyre in her Illyrian form when she conceives, even though he knows full well having a winged baby would kill her. He does it anyway, for shits and giggles apparently. They probably have sex in the sky above Velaris, for all we know.

4) The baby has wings. Now, the whole explanation with Illyrian wings being bony (bc they resemble bat wings) and Seraphin ones being more flexible (bc they resemble bird ones) is so insanely stupid that it takes around 3 seconds to wikipedia this shit and find out it’s exactly the opposite. But okay, the baby has wings and Feyre will die while giving birth, along with the baby. Madja forbids Feyre from turning into an Illyrian to carry the pregnancy because it MIGHT hurt the baby. Now, remember, Feyre conceived while in Illyrian form and then turned into High Fae. The baby survived it just fine. The baby MIGHT be hurt by Feyre turning .... but it will FOR SURE die if she stays High Fae and Feyre will too. Idk about you, but I would take the risk of MIGHT instead of FOR SURE. Especially when she is already in labour and dying. Cauldron or Nesta or idk who alters Feyre’s pelvis after the baby is cut out of her for no apparent reason but to allow feysand to make exactly the same mistakes later on. How convinient. And Nesta also alters her own pelvis bc god forbid she won’t be able give Cassian babies like the little useful mate she is now. She should’ve probably done it with Elain too, just in case she decides to fuck Az in the future, because fuck consequences and fuck the stakes in the story that make the readers actually CARE about characters bc they know the author may actually kill them and not save their life every fucking time.

5) I don’t even want to comment on the fact Rhys hid the true danger of this pregnancy for Feyre and their family went along with it. It is absolutely disgusting. And Nesta telling her and that being condemned as the act of the ultimate cruelty which is a final straw to break her self-loathing back.... is abhorrent. It made my sick, actually, phisically sick. There is no justification for it. No at all. And the fact that they did not even consider abortion sends a message that I really don’t want to think too much about it. Feyre was 2 months along when they learned the baby is winged. 2 months. 8 weeks. It wasn’t a baby yet, let’s be honest. They could’ve at least discussed it. She - oh my god, I cannot believe SJM wrote it this way, I’m gonna be sick.

6) For the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, they have no plan to really help her. Labour plan? Haven’t heard if it. They have money and power and access to the healers of the whole land. And did not figure out how to stop her from bleeding out after a fucking C-section. THIS WORLD HAS MAGIC AND THEY COULDN’T STOP HER FROM BLEEDING OUT AFTER A FUCKING C-SECTION. Didn’t even ask Thesan, the High Lord of Healing, to be present. Cassian had guts hanging out of his stomach and survived. Az was fucking slashed apart in Hybern and survived. But yeah, Feyre was on a brink of death after a C-section. Great, Sarah. Keep it up. Let’s force the thought into young girls’ heads that labour is the most lethal thing ever, why not.

7) Also, for the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, Rhys keeps quiet about this idiotic bargain. He, as far as we know, doesn’t make any plans for the moment when him and Feyre and possibly their baby are dead. If they died and baby survived.. who would take care of it? Does Rhys have a conversation with his family about it? NAH. Doesn’t write any sort of plan how to keep the Court going, doesn’t inform even the closest of his co-workers how they should proceed to act after he’s gone and his and Feyre’s power go to god-knows-who. Their deaths would mean a sure chaos for the weakend and fragile Prythian and the Night Court especially and yet nor Rhys nor Feyre make any sort of preparations for it. Rhys doesn’t tell his brothers or Mor or HIS SECOND IN COMMAND they will all soon have to somehow manage without him. He was about to just leave them to their own devices and told them in the last. possible. moment.

And this man - this man is, according to Amren, the best candidate to handle the whole country? To unite it? This fool who makes idiotic bargains, who thinks first about his cock and his own selfish desires and considers his subjects and his responsibilities as a High Lord last and least important of all? Who has so much trust in his wife, in his High Lady, the mother of his son that he doesn’t tell her she will almost surely die on a birthing bed because it MAY UPSET HER?

This plotline was the straw that broke my back. ACOTAR, at it’s heart has always been a ya fantasy with added ‘spice’ and I was willing to bend my critical-thinking skills in many cases and forget and forgive many smaller idiotic issues in this series. But this? It is not idiotic. It is massive and stupid to the point when it becomes insulting to the reader. It was a plot straight out of a bad fanfic, not something that should be in a published book written by someone who writes for a living. You could even argue that Twilight has handled this toxic trope better. I have wasted my money on this book and thinking about it will always be painful for me. So yeah.

ACOSF could be great. Ended up quite pathetic.

#acosf #acosf spoilers #a court of silver flames #rhysand #feysand

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one-time-i-dreamt · 4 years

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The Catholic Church said the children of Cain didn't get to marry and/or have children, no matter how much they tried, I asked how are you supposed to know if you are a child of Cain and a horrible creature (it was a floating head of an old man covered in small white balls, including its tongue) began to explain me, I thought that since my sister is married and with a child then I too can marry and have children so I had nothing to worry about but the doubt was there because apparently that didn't really matter that much, then I realized that the creature explaining to me was Cain himself. In that moment I appeared on the top of a grille that covered the surrounding of a three story building, it was white. That building was at the beach, the ocean was only like fifty centimeters away from the building. I had something tied to me from my waist, like when you have a hoodie, the thing was leopard skin-like including the tail or something that look liked it. On the second story there was a leopard (I've never seen one irl but he was very big, like 5 or 6 meters long), he was trying to eat me, looking at me from the balcony that was blocked with the same grille I was standing on so I tried to hide the “leopard skin” from him so he couldn't see me (now that I think about it he would be able to smell me but whatever). Attached to the building there was something like a farm with chickens, turkeys and other birds and animals, one of the birds was green and big and could fly, it was bothering the other animals, the grille also surrounded that place which only had three sides: the one next to the building I was at, one that continued from the grid I was standing on and another from the other side of the building, that grid was longer, forming a nice triangle. Some people, I don't know who they were, sent help to rescue me from the leopard and from the place I was because if I fell I could be seriously injured. I think those people thought I was Lady Di. A white helicopter was coming to me, the building looked the same but somehow it was taller, the helicopter had three levels too and had stickers of the Virgin of Guadalupe (but this one was dressed in red) and other things. But when they got closer I noticed an axolotl was coming from the same place the leopard was (so I thought it wasn't a leopard but a jaguar, but I searched pictures and it was definitely a leopard), the axolotl moved like a lizard and was trying to touch me so I don't know how but I was able to go to the corner of the farm by the grid and then I went down to the beach. As I was doing that, Cain (I couldn't see it) started yelling that I had the right to regenerate because I was a child of his, so the axolotl needed to touch me so I could live forever as he (Cain) does but as I reached the beach I started running back to the building, I knew Cain didn't want me to live forever but to kill me or that if he indeed wanted me to live forever it was going to turn me into a monster. In the building, which had no windows and the only light was coming from the entrances of the hallway which had many turns, there were big bowls with seeds, herbs and spices on the floor, I ran trying not to touch them so they could still use them but no matter how cautious I was the bowls still jumped, tossing everything. Cain was still yelling at me, chasing me and so was the axolotl, telling me how it was going to make me better and I told him while running that I didn't want to regenerate or live forever, that humans don't want that, we want to die, that we are different from them (the evil creatures) and I started to cry while running and arguing why we don't want that. Then I woke up and cried for a bit, desperate.

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ask-hunterxhunter · 3 years

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Helloo royal Guards as yandere please

But without the presence of Meruem because I find it difficult for them to fall in love with Reader while serving the King.

Mmmh, Neferpitou with a Reader male because my headcanon is that she is a infertile female uhhh I dont know how to explain it but I think that in the ant castes there are infertile females that are workers

Yeah, as far as I know, that's how it is with ants... I'm not an expert, but I think the female workers are infertile and care for the queen. Their development depends on how much food they receive when they're larvae. If there is abundance, some larvae will be "princess ants" (fertile and will leave the colony to start their own once the time is right).

Hmm... The Chimera Ants, however, seem to work quite different. Besides the whole "Ant Giving Birth to an Anthro Lion" and what not, they didn't end up starving once the queen died (which I read happens because there are no more larvae and the ants need them to properly feed) and many of them left to try starting colonies of their own (even some of the males seemed to want that, not just females like Zanzan)...

Perhaps this is more like some species of wasp? I've read that the queen produces a pheromone that keeps the others infertile. Once she dies, they battle for dominance in order to become the next queen. With the Chimera, however, they left for new territories rather than stay and fight...

...

Is there an entomologist in the house?

Neferpitou

The royal guards, regardless of Meruem’s presence, are not exactly easy to deal with even in their normal state (and I don’t think this is simply because they are not humans). Take them to Yandere level and, well, let’s just say it is not a pretty picture…

Pitou is not someone whose interest is easily aroused (she is the kind that “knows several people but regards only a few of them as her actual friends”) and, in a sense, the opposite is also true: It’s not easy to lose such interest, either. With her in Yandere-mode, well, it’s basically impossible. Once you’ve realized what is going, taking the usual measures to try dealing with it (such as moving, contacting the police, so on), don’t waste any time hoping she will “move on” or “change targets” as some stalkers do. It's not in her nature (both due to her personality and instincts).

Not that you would certainly realize what is going on right away. It would depend on her mood and how she decides to deal with her feelings (and she can’t change this decision): She may just go for the straight, extreme actions or keep a convincing facade of normality for a while… Regardless of whether this “normality” is you trying to kill each other or being friends (or she at least living in peace among humans)...

In the “enemies” case, Pitou would not spend days brooding about having fallen for an enemy and trying to get rid of those feelings. She would just shrug the situation off and start to debate whether it’s best to kidnap you right away or try to court you. If she’s working with other Ants for whatever reason or they just happen to be in the area, she would make sure everyone knows you are not to be hurt (and may God have mercy on whoever doesn’t listen). Her attacks would still be convincing from your point of view while being harmless playing in Pitou’s mind. After all, she lets you escape with no injures!

The “convincing facade” is more regarding how deep (and unsettling) her feelings are. In both scenarios, she would confess soon and, being what/how she is, likely act on it. No matter how much you explain you’re not interested or what arguments you use, Pitou would just wave her tail, perhaps ask what you mean exactly in that “innocently curious” tone of hers and… Completely ignore what you just said.

Well, okay, maybe you need to remember she isn’t completely human, so you can’t demand that she behaves like one, right?

Oh, boy, are you making a mistake… Not being human doesn’t mean that Pitou doesn’t understand that there are limits.

She understands.

She just couldn’t care less.

Remember when she probed Pokkles’ brain with him still alive? When Gon and Killua saw her for the first time? This is nothing next to how she can be when she’s obsessed with you.

I mentioned she would act on her feelings, right? Here’s another thing: She is also likely to do so in the manner of an animal trying to attract a particular mate. And because we’re talking Yandere-mode, I don’t mean the “bird dancing” or “penguin offering a pebble”. Not even the “cat giving you a dead prey”…

If you’re friends/she’s living in the human society, there would be some restraint at first, to the point her insistence would seem innocent… Then she would either grow impatient and kidnap you, or things would escalate, giving you hints to the darkness of her feelings until you’re forced to accept that this friend is a threat to you. Maybe after returning home, you find a note in your bed in which Pitou wrote that she loves how soft your bed is, how your home’s security is lacking… And, by the way, that person seems to have a crush on you… Hmm… Should she break their hands or their legs? The playful tone of the note only makes it darker.

Somehow you know she is not kidding.

If you’re enemies, well, she has no reason to restrain herself from the start. Her interactions with you would become far darker even if she miiight not kidnap you right away (for whatever reason) especially since she wouldn’t waste time playing by human rules. Pitou would find a way to make a claim (pinning you down, rubbing herself against you like a cat, and even leaving a love bite/hickey on your neck are very much on the table) or say it loud and clear in battle when there are other humans around. This isn’t just for the other humans, but for you as well: You’re hers, now. There is no room for discussion.

Also, in this scenario, it’s not impossible that Pitou’s “love” started with her deciding to make you her pet. Collar and all.

It should be said that Pitou is a cat in almost every sense, so the tendency to “play with her food” is very much present... Yes, she sees you as a “mate” rather than “prey”, but your attempts to avoid/hide from her consist of an opportunity that is far too good to miss! You change address and, after a few days, start to relax… Only for her to leave a new “present” at your door! It’s both funny and cute how you thought something so simple would keep her away! Awww, you’re so adorable!

Again, it’s true that some of her actions (such as this) have no malice whatsoever behind them, but I repeat, don’t let yourself be fooled: She is very much aware that what she is doing is creepy and wrong and why. I’m repeating this because Pitou can be as charming and cute as a cat… And as devious and sadistic as any human.

While some yanderes give you time (perhaps hoping you’ll eventually come around or because chasing you is so much fun), Pitou is among those who won’t take long before deciding to “take you home”.

Pitou loves having you all to herself and will be very affectionate, especially when it’s just the two of you. Maybe this sounds a little cute on principle? Yeah, trust me, it is not. It’s terrifying! Even when you reject her and she caresses your head saying you’re cute, you can see the insanity in her eyes, mixed with a sick infatuation.

It doesn’t help that, at times, her being “affectionate” involves brushing your hair, cuddling and even bathing together. Not only this invasion of space can already be uncomfortable, something about how Pitou does it makes you feel too much like a pet, especially when she talks about how much she loves you, how lovely you are, and how she is never going to let you go. In this situation, and the way she speaks, those words make you feel cold.

You should have realized by now that there is no reasoning with her and this isn’t because she is not human. Pitou is likely to twist your arguments or make points that would frankly make you think she learned from Illumi or Hisoka (and she only does that because she thinks it’s funny, anyway).

As for Pitou, well, she can’t say she is happy that you’re uncomfortable, but she believes it’s just temporary and you’ll get used to your new life… Hey, humans capture animals all the time to put them in zoos or circus. She isn’t that bad in comparison, now, is she?

She’s easily the kind of yandere that responds to pleas for freedom by caressing your head and saying you’re cute. How could she possibly let you go? You’d run away! Besides, she can keep you well-fed and protected. You say such silly things, love!

That’s not to say Pitou doesn’t have a limit to how much rejection she can take or her patience. And this is a line you don’t want to cross. It’s hard to say if Pitou would get to the point of physical punishment, but this doesn’t mean she wouldn’t make use of other means.

Menthuthyoupi.

It’s not easy to catch the attention of any of the Royal Trio, each for their own reasons. In Youpi’s case, it’s partially because he doesn’t have any human DNA on him, so despite being able to communicate and all, he doesn’t usually pay that much attention to people. It’s almost like he’s an alien (or we are, in his view). Even in a scenario when he is living in peace with humans, he doesn’t have exactly a clear opinion about them. They just exist. Maybe a few of them are okay enough, but that’s it… And in a scenario when he is still fighting them, well, they are the enemy. It’s pretty simple.

Youpi is direct, both in personality and as a Chimera Ant (in that he follows his instincts without hesitation). As such, like Pitou, he wouldn’t avoid his feelings once he comes to understand them. It’s a little strange, yes, but he accepts the fact that he loves you and that’s it. That said, Youpi would be initially confused (especially if you’re an enemy. How on Earth did he develop this sort of feeling for someone he’s supposed to kill?), and he wouldn’t make a move until he is sure of what he is feeling and what he wants.

Sadly, because this isn’t him in a healthy state of mind, this doesn’t mean anything good for you. This isn’t a shy monster-boy finding a human he considers special. This isn’t even “enemies falling in love” or “dark romance”. This is an “already dangerous individual” developing an equally dangerous obsession.

At first, Youpi starts to stalk you (if you’re his enemy/if you’ve never spoken before) or try to find excuses to spend more time with you (if you’re on friendly terms) in this attempt to understand exactly what is going on with himself. During this time, his feelings for you become stronger along with his desire to know everything about you. He’s curious. He’s fascinated. He wants to see you more often. He wants to talk with you… He just wants to be near you…

It’s pretty disturbing because, despite his size, Youpi will find the means to stalk you without anyone realizing it, just like an animal hunting. You may notice a shadow here and now, feel a chill up your spine, but it won’t be enough to make the danger clear enough. If you two are enemies, there are chances you’ll realize that there is something is wrong, as he either avoids fighting you (no issues with anyone else, though) or that he doesn’t seem to be actively trying to hurt you as much as before… Despite this, you’ll never, ever imagine he is in love with you.

Well, disturbing as it may be, it sounds almost as harmless as he can be in this scenario, right?

Not the case. You can’t forget how obsession grows, how it affects a person, and that it gets to the point when merely stalking isn’t enough. There is no such thing as a harmless yandere/stalker. So even if Youpi, at first, is satisfied with merely watching you from afar and making sure you aren’t hurt, it starts to not be enough. He sees you with your friends, smiling at them, hugging them, laughing… And he starts to imagine how it would be to have you doing these things with him, to be the one who makes you smile, to be the one holding you… And he realizes he wants it.

He loves you. He wants you.

And there is no reason to not act on those feelings.

Regardless of the circumstances between you, he seems to take the rejection well (if you manage to control the shock, act calmly and explain your reasons for it). At first, he thinks about your points and may even understand them… Only to find out that he doesn’t care. He can’t forget you. He can’t let go of you… And honestly, he doesn’t really want to. That you don’t feel the same now doesn’t matter. Don’t some couples start not feeling the same for each other, only for those feelings to change later?

In the case of “peaceful existence”, it might be easier to get a glimpse of his instability than with the Neferpitou, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. Even the precautions people normally take in those situations would only work for a certain time… The myth of the animal that “will pursue its prey to the ends of the Earth once it has its scent” is true when it comes down to Youpi (literally even).

Now, while Youpi is less likely to resort to kidnapping (at least right away), he would still find ways to inject himself into your life, so even then, you can’t say you’re free. He may not go straight to threatening your loved ones (and it’s hard to predict if he would follow with it), but there are many other tactics that he could and would use.

And being less likely to kidnap you doesn’t mean he wouldn’t if he didn’t decide it is the better course of action. After all, no matter how strong you prove yourself to be, it doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt. If he keeps you, he can’t make sure you’re safe.

Either way, there is no way to be free of him.

If he kidnapped you, Youpi wouldn’t go so far as to place you in an actual cage or chain you up, but he would find means to make sure you can’t leave.

He is easily the most patient of the trio, including with your rejections and attempts to escape. It doesn’t please him and nothing can convince him to let you go, but at least Youpi doesn’t get angry, condescending, or twist things around. In fact, it gets to the point when you can lose control and try hitting him that he wouldn’t even raise his voice. He would just hold your wrists (carefully) and try to calm you down…

Now, just because he isn’t human, it doesn’t mean Youpi is unable to understand that what he is doing is wrong and why you’re so unhappy. Hey, animals also don’t like to be taken from the place they consider their home like that. He can relate, he can understand. But his obsession is too great for him to let you go and, instead, he hopes that you’ll adapt with time.

Not having human genes and understanding even less about humans than Pitou and Pouf, in his desire to make you comfortable (and make you accept him), Youpi would likely try to learn what he can about humans (probably even asking for Pitou’s help).

For Youpi, your presence alone makes him feel good. While he wouldn’t force you into things that make you uncomfortable or excessively invade your personal space the way Pitou might, there would still be times when Youpi would want to show you some affection. Chances are, he would enjoy holding you close (especially because, next to him, you feel so small and cute) and nuzzling you, which is not only a common expression of affection among animals, but it also gives him an extra opportunity to enjoy your scent.

Youpi might be less cruel than most of yanderes, but this doesn’t mean much. At the end of the day, whether he has kidnapped you or not, the situation is still essentially the same. You’re being hurt either way…

Shaiapouf.

Even in his normal state of mind, for all his apparent calmness and self-control, it’s been showed several times that Pouf can be actually quite intense with his emotions, to the point they cloud his thoughts (and that’s a polite way to say it). Well, multiply that by a thousand and you’ll only scratch the surface of how he becomes as a Yandere.

Even if, by some miracle, this is a scenario where Pouf lives peacefully with humans it doesn’t mean he likes them. It’s more that he “tolerates” and “accepts” their existence as an unpleasant fact and it’s very much unlikely he would have human friends (he would probably find a way to live with comfort and luxury while having as little contact as possible with them). In a sense, you can compare him to some yokais in Inuyasha… He doesn’t go out of his way to antagonize humans (and risk a fight), but he sure as hell doesn’t care for them.

Until you, that is.

Pouf will never be able to say when his feelings for you started to grow and it will take a long time for him to understand them. By the time this happens, well, he is way into “Obsession Land”. Once he can no longer deny what he feels and it hits him that he loves you, his first reaction is… Well, pretty much an emotional tantrum, followed by self-despise and intense fury. How could he ever fall for a human? Disgraceful! Terrible! How could he fall so low? He even tries to hate you for making him feel that way, only to realize he can’t.

This lasts for a while, with him trying to convince himself to bury those feelings, no matter what it takes. If you two are enemies, be prepared: Pouf may consider killing you as the only way to “get rid of this shame”. He soon realizes he can’t bear the idea of you being hurt, let alone by him (well, like this, I mean)… But at least you’re not having to deal with his obsession yet.

Sadly, it doesn’t mean this will last long enough for something to happen before things get out of control. Pouf can’t get you out of his mind, possibly deciding to “observe you” in order to “remind himself” that you’re just a human: Flawed, inferior, and unworthy. This evolves into stalking and has the opposite effect: He becomes more and more infatuated, as well as worried that you might get hurt. You’re so beautiful, so gentle… You should not be fighting! At all! Oh, you’re an angel. No wonder he fell for you! You’re perfect for him!

If this is the “peaceful scenario”, the course of events is still pretty similar, no matter how you’ve met. At first, wanting to get you out of his system, he may be cold whenever you meet and even a little nasty, but it won’t work. He will start to long for more of your presence and if he manages to spend time with you, to consider you only of the few (if not the only) human who is better than the rest of the masses.

Either way, once he accepts that he loves you, you’re screwed.

In the “enemy scenario”, Pouf may try once to convince you to come with him, speaking highly of you and how much he loves you… In his mind, it’s poetry. In reality? The words may be pretty, but the way he says them, the shine in his eyes, the way he insists to hold your hands between his… Well, it’s creepy. Pouf may accept you denying him for a while, but it won’t take long until he seizes the first chance he has to take you. He was just being polite, offering you the chance of doing so by choice (if he does that when you’re gravely injured in a battle, he will use that frequently to point out he saved you and how you need him to keep you safe).

In the “peaceful scenario”, again, it’s not that much a different course of events. Your attempts to make him understand you’re not interested are ignored and there is precious little that anyone can do to keep you safe and, yes, including the Hunter Organization. He would do everything to get you.

In his mind, he is not doing anything wrong. If anything, his actions are almost heroic and proof of his devotion to you.

When you wake up in an unknown location and start to freak out or try to escape, Pouf reacts as if this is just adorable, then going on about how he loves you and wants to keep you safe. And let me tell you, this isn’t a “flowery speech” or like his funny moments in the anime. At this moment you realize you’re in a lot of trouble and that the chances of Pouf ever letting you go are non-existent.

It's not easy to determine exactly how deep his delusion goes; if it’s only about the “perfect life” you two will share or if it includes you. It’s not impossible that Pouf isn’t really in love with you, but rather an idealized version of you. He may also believe that, deep down, you do love him and just need time to realize it.

Pouf is the “adoring” kind of Yandere. He would love to spoil you, care for you, and would want to lavish you with gifts. Perhaps you’d expect him to be the less dangerous of the trio, or at least the most manageable, right? You’re dead wrong. Pouf is actually the worst of them, maybe even on the list of the worst yanderes of all Hunter cast.

His personality also means Pouf doesn’t believe anyone is worthy of your attention and if there is anyone you like (or that he thinks you like), it’s just because they’re manipulative and toxic. It’s his sacred duty to keep you safe from such scum! Perhaps the better term for him, rather than “jealous”, would be “possessive”. As far as he is concerned, you have no need to get in contact with another human ever again.

You thought he hated Komugi? Trust me, that was nothing compared to this.

He would lock you in a room, which you’d only leave while accompanied by him (he can’t have you trying to run off, can he?). Actually… If that happens, you should be glad. This guy isn’t above placing bars along a corner of his chambers (they are certainly large enough), turning that area into your “room” (bed and all). It certainly would appeal to him, especially since it gives him more chance to watch you.

There are stories about how excessive love can be suffocating, the “The Chaser” episode from the “Twilight Zone”… Well, Pouf’s love wouldn’t follow this line. This would be just tiresome. His adoration is frightening, even for a Yandere. The way he’s so sweet to you is mixed with a certain darkness, not letting you forget you’re dealing with an unstable person.

He understands this is a time of adaptation for you and this change of life is a shock, but he wouldn’t be happy if you asked him to let you go every day. In the same sickly-sweet way of always, he will mix subtle (or not so subtle) threats with words of adoration. Maybe he should chain you up… Maybe you’re thinking about that person who (he believes) has a crush on you? Maybe he should make sure you never think of them again…

There is also the fact that Pouf is among the Yanderes who would have almost no respect for your personal space. For all his adoration of you, he can be quite manipulative and controlling: If he wants to hold you in his lap, brush your hair, have you sleeping next to him, dance with you, well… There is little point in fighting. You would have to choose your battles wisely and keep in mind that Pouf isn’t above tying you up if you “start to be difficult”. Some Yanderes are happy enough with having you with them and may have enough patience to “wait for you to love them back”… Well, with Pouf, it depends on his mood.

There would be times when his behavior is all “patient and loving” (more like he just smiles when you try to get away or lash out)… And times when he would basically “demand” that you love him. Not with words, though: You’d learn that there are times when it’s safer for you to act a little more loving towards him (within reason) rather than antagonize him.

#I'm sorry if this was too long #Got carried away #Now I'm wondering about how exactly the Chimera Ants work as a colony #Anyone has a theory?#hunterxhunter #hxh #headcanon #hxh headcanon #yandere #Royal Guards #chimera ants #shaiapouf #pouf #menthuthuyoupi #youpi #pitou #neferpitou #hxh yandere #Somehow I imagine Pouf would be like The Tragedy of Chateau Cepage

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buckysgoldenheart · 3 years

Text

Angel in the Dark

Demon!August Walker x Reader

Summary: After a one-night stand, or what you thought would be one, a demon drags you to his world and forces you to grow wings like he has so you would have to stay with him, unable to permanently return to Earth.

Notes: (So this is like a one-shot that is little snippets/summary of something I might turn into a multi-chaptered fic. I’m not sure if I’m going to do that yet or if anyone would even like this idea, but if it seems a bit choppy, this is why.) I know its been an age and a half since i posted anything, but college, ya know? Also to those who have made requests, I have started all of them and they are to be posted next. I just started this fic a long time ago. I havent written anything for a while so it might actually kinda suck.

Warnings: Implied smut, kinda. Unhealthy attachment on August’s end. If I make this chaptered then there would be actual smut. I think cursing. Eventual Stockholm syndrome if continued.

Words: 1713

Angel in the Dark

You didn’t believe in fate, not really. You didn’t believe your life was predestined or anyone else’s to play with. It was yours alone, to make choices, good or bad. Only you decided when you did things and where you did them. And no one would have ever been able to convince you otherwise, until you met him.

Seeing him in that club, kissing him before you knew his name, now you couldn’t help but feel was in some way a trick, manipulated in his favor. That maybe bumping into him, quite literally, was his orchestration. Maybe whether you spoke to him or not, he had his sights set on you, and a one-night stand was never going to just get to be a one-night stand.

It was all too simple. Meeting you and not taking advantage, kissing you but following your lead, sleeping with you like you meant something to him. It didn’t add up. You could sense the kind of man he was; dominating and possessive. Too dominating and possessive to be as gentle with you as he had been. And all of it fell into a perfect line for what you now realized he wanted from you: not just sex, but more; nothing less than your life. But admitting all of that to yourself was entertaining the possibility that you were stalked like prey and any training at staying away from bad men had been a useless waste of time.

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

It was the third day, third of eight. August promised the pain would subside as the days passed, but so far he was proving to be a liar, not to your surprise. Every few hours, the wings ripped your skin wider to accommodate their size as they grew from the inside of your body pushing out. At three days, they were now the span of a couple feet, shining an opalescent white in the glare of the sun.

As you laid on your stomach, frozen in place against the mattress, wings bloodied and draped across your back with your eyes closed tight, you tried to understand the depth of the pain; how it was able to hurt the way it did. The feeling couldn’t compare to anything Earth may dare to offer. So different, so unnatural in its entirety, and indescribably excruciating. It was merciless, not letting you escape, not letting you find the will to walk without your bones threatening to crack. You could barely speak for fear fire would thrust itself up from your lungs and incinerate your throat. It was all-consuming, swallowing your body whole instead of localizing where the skin of your back had shredded open.

“Just a few more days,” August said, and you flinched at his voice. Every time he spoke it was a shock he was still there beside you, with his massive, black wings hanging over the back of the chair he sat in. Those monstrosities weren’t attached to his muscled back when you met him; nowhere in sight when he was in your bed.

August dabbed at your broken and bleeding skin with a cool cloth, eliciting little whimpers passed your chapped lips. “I know it hurts, Angel.”

“Don’t—" You forced out despite the heat in your throat, acid on your tongue, waves of nausea you knew would follow. “…C-Call me that.”

He sighed and continued to wipe the blood from your naked body. “I wish you wouldn’t say that. When the time is up, you’ll feel so much better about this, about me, and you’ll see how beautiful they are. You’re already so gorgeous, the wings will only add to your beauty.”

“I di-didn’t want--

“Don’t talk, Angel,” he said. “I know how you’re feeling about this right now, but humans are not allowed to live in this world. I had to do this so you can stay.”

You screamed as the wings tore your skin open a few more centimeters, and August quickly scooted his chair closer to brush the hair from your face.

He softly shushed you the way one might soothe a kitten, before leaning down and placing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “It’s ok. I’m not going to leave your side.”

You would have slapped at him, pushed him away with all your might if you had the strength, but your lungs were tightening, body burning as if it had been licked by the sun. You were dying, slowly morphing into a horrid creature from fantasies, leaving behind any trace of humanity. In your veins you could feel something coursing and altering your DNA. You knew you still looked like you, for the most part, but you weren’t you, not anymore. All because you met a man who got attached and wouldn’t let you go. All because he couldn’t remain in your world and decided with certainty that if he couldn’t be in yours, he would drag you to his. A place some believed in and some didn’t, a place no one could prove the existence of, now your iron cage.

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

It was five more nights of torture before you felt like you could really breathe again, and even then, the oxygen was just as foreign as the pain you had trudged through, and you found little comfort in it fully filling your lungs.

“You’re awake.”

His smooth voice drew your eyes away from the scenery out the bedroom window; the first glimpse of true, heavenly beauty you’d seen since he brought you here. But you weren’t convinced it wasn’t an illusion crafted by his devilish fingers for your comfort. Much like his own beauty, a trick tempting you to call off your desire to leave this world and go home. You tried your best to ignore how perfect he looked; the curls of his hair, the scruff of his jaw, the black wings you first saw the night you met him when they had suddenly appeared only after you’d slept together.

“And you’re standing already. I hoped to come help you, but you’re clearly much stronger than I was after I had to grow my own wings.”

Your eyes flashed in anger before your tore them away from his, back to the rolling hills overlapping one another outside your window. The breeze rustling your hair, the chirp of the birds, the glisten of the sun off the small lake dotted in the landscape, distracted you from August’s approach. You stilled at his breath hitting the back of your neck, but when he slipped his rough fingers through the layers of your shimmering feathers you couldn’t contain the shiver that shot through your body. His own black ones ruffled when his skin touched his creation.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

“I’m glad you’re proud of your work.”

August let out a puff of air, a weak laugh. “My work? Angel, this was all you. I knew they would be beautiful if they were going to be a part of you, but you really outdid yourself.”

Twisting your body fast, you met him chest to chest, your eyes burning with a heat to match the devil. “I outdid myself? You forced this on me. You injected me with that—that poison without my permission.”

“And you survived. Not many can say the same. You’ve come out stronger.” Fingers trailed through your feathers again and you ignored the heat it sent to your core.

“I’ve come out of this wanting to kill you more than I did before,” You said, shifting the wing back and away from his reach.

Without a moment to pass, August gently grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger as his gaze landed on your lips. “That will fade with time,” he whispered, then inched his face closer. You shoved him away just before his lips could meet yours, and August stumbled back with a chuckle. “Certainly stronger.”

“I’m not going to let you kiss me,” you snapped.

“Not today, it would seem.”

“Not ever again!” Somehow the words felt wrong, each one more sour than the last. Wrong, as if your lips called to his and a portion of your mind was so disappointed at the fight you were going to force it through by trying to keep yourself away from him. But it was a small portion, and the rest of you was much stronger.

“We will see, Angel,” He crossed his arms. “You and I have eternity. One day you will wake up and realize I am all you have, I am all you want, and this memory will be lost. All you will know is me and my touch and our world.”

As he spoke, his eyes held a gentle sincerity that you wished wasn’t there. You wished the blue of them wasn’t so calm and casual and certain of the way he was feeling. Shaking your head, you matched his stance. “You’re a monster,” you said. “You really are, and here I thought I’d seen the worst of monsters, but clearly not.”

August slowly stepped back into your space again, catching you off guard with a flush to your cheeks as he loomed over you. But you kept his stare, even with your back against the wall, wings spread against the stone. “You may breathe your sweet words all you’d like, Angel, but it changes nothing,” He said, running a knuckle down your cheek. “If I am a monster, I am your monster, and I’m not going anywhere.” Smiling, his eyes glanced at your lips again. “Luckily for me…neither are you.”

Tags:

@agniavateira @tumblnewby @forthebrokenheartedthings @summersong69 @starlite13 @mstgsmy @purplelove75 @defffcc @the-soot-sprite @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity @aquariuslavenderhoney @harrysthiccthighss @the-problem-of-leisure @amberlokabrenna @a-dlv @writing-about-current-obsessions @weallhaveadestiny @coffeebreathy @madbaddic7ed @petitefirecracker10

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docockbrainrot · 3 years

Text

i think i want you (to leave)

Summary: We’re all running from something. Sometimes, metaphorically. Sometimes, literally. Literally running, from the very strangely hypnotizing supervillain that seems hellbent on ruining every bit of your life he can get all eight of his limbs on.

Pairing: Doc Ock X Reader/ Otto Octavius X Reader

Content: Slow Burn, NSFW eventually, 18+

AO3 link here.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

anathema// former vandal

The next several days are an uneventful blur. You barely leave your apartment, except for brief dog walks and grabbing food from the bodega across the street.

It’s 9 pm on Saturday and you’re fresh out of the shower, tucked away in a very fuzzy robe, lounging on the couch and watching YouTube on your television. You almost miss the subtle taptaptaptap sound coming from your window, you're so engrossed in the cooking show you’ve been binging. Gotta fill the void somehow, right?

You can’t see anything outside from where you’re sitting. The lights are on and make it impossible to peer through the reflections on the glass. Maybe it’s a bird. Or a branch is caught on the fire escape. Either way, you certainly can’t be assed to check it out and you take another sip of your chamomile tea- you’ve been trying everything under the sun, just about short of literally snorting lines of melatonin, to try to sleep better at night. Nothing’s been working. But you have been making a very valiant effort.

A few moments go by and you forget all about the window disturbance until,

TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP.

It’s jarring. It’s loud. Above all else, it’s annoying. Chekov spares you a look, like you’re the one making a racket. Effectively exasperated, you make an effort to set, not slam, down your mug, feeling decidedly not Calm and Relaxed as the tea promised. Suppose it’s not miracle shit though, is it? You would not be a good candidate for a horror movie because you fearlessly storm over to the window and throw it open (it wasn’t locked in the first place; you’re quite terrible at remembering to). You stick your head out and glower at whatever irritating mischief is happening out here, ready to rip the fire escape off the side of the brick building.

You’re greeted by something cold and hard (and indubiously metal, judging by how it felt against your sternum) shoving you back into your apartment, sending you sprawling unceremoniously to the hardwood floor. A string of profanities ready to leave your tongue, you sit up and adjust your robe in an attempt to preserve a modicum of your modesty. The rant dies in your throat as red eyed claws grip the threshold of your pre-war window and it’s almost comical the way He maneuvers himself in, far too large to be making these sorts of entrances. Standing up to his full height before you while you’re still sitting dumbfounded on the floor reminds you of just how impressively built he is. You manage to pick your jaw up, but your ass remains firmly planted on the wood.

“Uh… you could have just used the buzzer, dude. I have a front door, you know,” you sputter out, brain blitzing in pretty much every way possible. Your thoughts are racing and eventually they settle on the most important thing you can think to ask in that moment: “... Why aren’t you wearing a shirt.” You can't help the way your eyes are drawn to his broad chest, gaze lingering on the vast scarring that spills out from the metal contraption clamped around his midsection.

Otto very graciously closes the window behind himself. Or at least his little robot accomplices do it for him. You still aren’t sure what’s going on with that- the whole AI thing. Not even a blip on your radar of concerns at this point. “Didn’t want anyone to see me come in. Your building has a camera on the front, facing the street.”

“That’s why you’re shirtless?” You ask dumbly. Interesting method of camouflage. “What? No- what? It doesn’t matter- listen to me. I need you to do something for me. A small favor.”

He doesn’t seem to notice the compromised position he put you in. Typical. Gathering up your broken pride, you get up and tighten the tie of your robe a bit. It isn’t until then that he has the decency to look a smidge embarrassed and you hope you didn't just give him a free show on your way to getting to your feet. “You literally just broke into my apartment and now you’re asking for a favor? We barely know each other!”

“Less complicated when there's nothing personal involved yet, plus- you let me in,” he corrects you. You wish he would stop doing that. You wish he would stop meeting with you like this, under weird and mysterious circumstances. Even though it's only been like twice. You're already over it.

“You threw me across the room!”

“Touche.”

Otto does not apologize and you did not sincerely expect him to. The look on his face reads more like the cat that got the canary than regretful. You feel as though you’ve come to recognize that expression on his face and you also feel as though you don’t much like the fact that you’ve enough encounters with this man that you can recognize a damn thing about him. “What… could you possibly need me to do for you? I am not robbing a bank.” You just want to get that out into the open as soon as possible.

“I don’t need your help robbing a bank,” he snorts as if the idea is preposterous and you take a moment to feel insulted. Wow. Okay. You could totally rob a bank if you wanted to. Deciding to not comment on your wounded ego, you let him get to the point. Otto pulls something out of his inner coat pocket. It's some kind of rolled up paper and you think at first maybe it's a newspaper or magazine. He unfurls it onto the coffee table and holds it open with two metal claws on either side so it doesn't ravel itself back up.

You realize it's a blueprint. "This is… Oscorp," you point out stupidly, brow furrowing in confusion. There's levels to what's happening here. Layers upon layers, melding together with rot and decay and you can all but smell it. But there's something missing, something that would tie all of the wackjob shit that's been happening to you and around you together. It feels like when you have a very particular thought and then walking into another room makes it dissolve from your head. You're trying to grasp for it, to fit the puzzle pieces together, but it's just out of reach.

"Yes. It is. I have a small task I need you to do," Otto starts off, metal phalanges pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head as he looks over at you. For the first time, you can see his eyes in the light. The warm amber feels like a mockery- you have seen his cruelty in action.

"Where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?" Of course he'd say that.

Your fingertips brush against the metaphorical wayward chain link. It's right there. You just have to grab it and pull it back to you, like the anchor of a ship before it can set sail.

He's talking. You aren't listening. He's tracing a finger over the schematics. You don't see it. Realization washes over you in a heart-dropping tsunami. The voicemail you got from Oscorp plays like a broken record in your mind. 'Hello, Y/N. We're calling in regards to your employment status here at Oscorp. Unfortunately, due to a breach of security, we are having to make staffing cuts and are going to have to let you go. We appreciate your time and effort and wish you the best of luck in your next endeavor.' It didn't make sense at the time. A lot of things didn't. You replay the scene of poor David, desperately pleading for his life at the hands of the man hunched over here, just in your living room. You mentally re-run it over and over like bad 80s sitcoms on late night television.

"Lab Coat Guy…"

You don't realize you whispered it out loud until Otto goes silent.

"What?"

You slowly look at him and take a single step backwards, shaking your head. The company embroidered on David's lab coat hadn't been clear to you in the moment- but it's crystal in hindsight. Oscorp. "You got me fired." Your tone is flat, until anger flashes through you, like a streak of lightning through a dark, moonless sky, illuminating all of things that didn’t make sense before.

"It doesn't matter. What I need you to do-" He's so nonchalant, so blasé that it only stokes the embers of frustration until there's a roaring blaze burning beneath your skin. It's all about him, what he needs, what he wants. He has the nerve, the audacity, to keep traipsing into your life, kicking you while you're down and then ask for favors? You want to say all of that to him but unfortunately for you, you're an angry crier. Your outburst of bravery at him the last time you saw each other had surprised even you- but now there's so much more emotion roiling around inside you.

"No. No, no. Fuck you. You got me fired! I can't- I can't not have a job, I have to pay rent! You could get me arrested for just talking to you!" Oscorp had you canned to tie up any potential loose ends before anymore Davids could slip through the cracks. You think about how scared the poor dude must have been, threatened into stealing blueprints from the biggest corporation in the city, for one of the most infamous criminals. You don't know how they found out you were even remotely involved and you don't want to know.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks and once the floodgates have opened you're very familiar with how long it's going to take to close them again. After all you've been bottling this up since you found out, too disappointed to even tell any of your friends or family.

Otto appears taken aback, to say the least. He even looks like he's at a loss for words; that's a first. You know he could kill you where you stand in the blink of an eye, but in that moment you don’t even care. You’ve been trying so hard for so long to get on your feet, to do things for yourself and get away from the past. You moved across the country, you left everything behind, you got a damn dog. It seems like every time you manage to take a step forward in life, you’re knocked flat on your ass, apparently literally sometimes. It isn’t fair. Things don’t come easily to you, you’ve always had to work for them. You aren’t wealthy, you aren’t a supergenius, you’re just… you. The job at Oscorp was good money and you really felt like you were getting your shit together for a while.

“They’re not who you think they are,” he says finally, so calmly, with such carefulness about his words, that you sniffle pathetically and look up at him. He doesn’t look nearly as pleased with himself as you thought he might. And here you’ve been, under the impression that he gets off on hurting people. “Oscorp. I’m not… I’m not just doing this for me. You have to understand that.”

The schematics are furled up and tucked away. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Maybe it’s just the tears that blur your vision, but you swear you see a softness there before they’re hidden away again by his glasses.

He lingers at the window.

“I hope you’ll reconsider.” And then he was making his exit, even taking care to gently close the window on the way out. But he raps on the glass with his knuckles from where he stands on the fire escape and you know the look of confusion on your tear-streaked face speaks for itself. Otto points to the latches on the window. ‘Lock it.’ He mouths before he’s gone, presumably to wreak havoc and harass other unsuspecting young women that don’t want anything to do with him.

You thought everything had come together- but the more sense you make of it, the less you seem sure of the bigger picture. You aren't even sure exactly what he wanted you to do.

You’re left with an endless bounty of questions, and not enough answers to satisfy any of them.

#otto octavius x reader #doc ock x reader #fanfiction #otto octavius #doc ock

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

College has stopped kicking my butt enough for me to post another chapter of the the Scattered au fic. this one is meant to be a parallel to last chapter, so you might want to reread that one.

scattered au is by @hermitcraftheadcanons and their community

reading tag list: still just @helleborusangel right now. Send an ask if you want to be added on.

Xisuma pulled himself out of the water, coughing a bit from what had gotten past his filter. He tried to look around only to squint at the light from the surface. He didn’t think he had swum that far up, but for all he knew, he was able to push himself that far to finally escape the warden. So when something suddenly attacked him and didn’t immediately kill him, Xisuma quickly fought back.

While initially swimming, he thought he had felt something though wasn’t sure, but this was much more clear. And slimelike, it seemed, since that’s what it felt like when he attacked it. But the following grunt of pain from the attacker sounded much more human like.

Xisuma did his best to focus on whatever was there, but he was seeing double. He looked back and forth, trying to tell if it was just from the intense lighting change or from there actually being two… things there. And it seemed it was the latter when the things looked at each other.

“Well, that’s probably not good.” The two things spoke in unison, which didn’t help the headache that Xisuma could feel coming on. Still, he was able to focus enough to get a good look at whatever was there and was a slime hybrid of sorts similar to Jevin, though instead of his very clearly blue slime, these two - one? They were more of a sea green. Plus from what Xisuma could guess, they were able to split like a regular slime, something Jevin couldn’t.

“Sorry.” Xisuma spoke up, it finally clicking in his mind that he had likely damaged them enough to make them split. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you were attacking- I mean, maybe you were, but this does seem to be where you’re staying, so I guess I invaded your home a bit.”

“I guess. So, are you from around here?” The slime pair asked, making Xisuma shake his head. “Huh, neither am I… are we… This is the first time I’ve split so-”

Xisuma tilted his head a little. “I guess it is pretty safe here. Have you had any deaths so far?”

“I thought that was going to be my first.”

“So that would explain the lack of death messages as opposed to Gemini or Pearlescent. Do you know either of them?”

“No, sorry, not really.” The slime people answered. “Well, uh, there’s just enough here if you need basic tools, but not much else. I’ve got a pickaxe- crafting table.”

Xisuma looked between the two. “I think both would be nice. I spawned underground and had trouble with getting anything at all.” And before he could say more, the slime people were handing him those two items and a few more.

“You’re on your own for food though. Berries aren’t the most filling, so I’ve been eating them all up. They taste nice though.” And to prove their point, each of the slime people went after a berry, though they went after the same one and ended up fighting over it.

Xisuma nodded and went up to one of the walls. This would be much easier than getting the warden to do all his mining, seeing as how he would now be in control. He started to staircase out of the cave, placing what few torches he had until he found more coal. Technically he didn’t need to, but then something could spawn and head down and attack the slime pair. And Xisuma didn’t want to never return and just leave them there alone forever. So when he finally did get up to the surface, Xisuma went straight back down. “Are you sure you want to- er, what are you doing?”

The slime people looked back over to Xisuma and shrugged. “Trying to fuse back together or something. Why did you come back?”

Xisuma wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but the next thing he really knew, he was going back up towards the surface, his arms full from holding the slime pair, one cradled in each arm. Sure, they said they would be safe alone in the cave, but X couldn’t help the feeling that they wouldn’t be safe so far away. He was pretty sure it was just from his worry about everyone else, and this was just one person he could protect, but Xisuma couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else going on.

Hypno leaned against Etho, who was doing surprisingly well considering their current situation. Both of them were low on hunger, only managing to stay alive from what little they could get from the flowers and grass they picked and ate. Etho somehow managed to find a pig wandering around and killed it for some raw pork, handing it to Hypno to eat. They couldn’t cook it, but Etho was less worried about the hunger the meat would satiate and more about the fact that Hypno wasn’t fully himself.

After the initial shock of finding horns on Hypno’s head, the pair looked him over. Hypno made mention of an ache at the base of his spine, and Etho found a few concerning bumps on Hypno’s upper back. Until they actively looked into it, Hypno hadn’t noticed anything wrong, which led to them checking Etho, and also giving the ninja something to plan for on his next respawns.

Etho was glad they didn’t notice much with him, but with little to do, he explained to Hypno his encounters with Ren, Impulse and Grian. Out of the three, Impulse had seemed the most normal, only having red eyes instead of the golden brown he usually sported. Ren had seemed fine at first, but then in the attack from the creeper, the shifter had killed Etho, acting like an attacked wolf. And then Grian for the most part had been acting like a bird, though near the end…

A moobloom trotted over, pulling Etho out of his thoughts. It nuzzled against Hypno, who happily reciprocated. Still worried about the other hermit and the effects the environment was having on him, Etho forcefully separated the two, needing to attack the animal to make it flee.

“What was that for Etho? It was just being friendly.”

“Right now, we need to be cautious of everything. Especially those cows and all the flowers around here. Because in case you forgot, growing horns like that is not normal. Plus, we could use the food right now.”

Hypno huffed. “We’ll use up more energy trying to kill it than we would get from anything it drops. It’s better to let us willingly help us than-”

Etho suddenly held up a finger to shush Hypno, letting them listen to the breeze. “Do you hear that?”

Hypno listened, only hearing a few moos from the nearby moobloom. “The cows?”

“Well, okay yeah. But it’s more what I’m not hearing.” And then Etho pulled out his communicator. Hypno watched as Etho stared at the screen, mask moving ever so slightly as he mouthed counting up. But nothing was happening. At first, Hypno didn’t get what was so important until he pulled out his own communicator. No death messages were coming in. Specifically none from Impulse.

“Impulse got out.” Hypno said, whispering in disbelief. “Someone must have found him.”

Etho nodded. “Yeah, but the question is who.” And then almost immediately, it was answered.

Zedaph was slain by impulseSV

If there was one thing that was a benefit to respawning in the same place every time, it was the fact that no matter how many times Impulse died, the guardians wouldn’t disappear. Meaning that after a few attempts, he finally killed one of the monsters giving him grief. Just being able to slay one of them felt freeing with all the torment he was currently being put through, but that wasn’t the only benefit.

When the guardian died, it dropped two things, a prismarine shard and some cod. Impulse greedily grabbed at the items, stuffing the shard in his inventory and then stuffing the fish in his mouth. After not eating in so long, the fish seemed like the most heavenly food in the world, though Impulse had other ideas on why that was the case.

Here and there, guardians had completely ignored him. Sometimes he felt like he was getting a full breath of air even though he was still stuck in the water. He hadn’t missed the webbing between his fingers and toes growing each respawn nor the scales that appeared and itched like crazy. Half of Impulse would have preferred drowning forever instead of whatever this was, but his other half realized that it was likely his only way out.

Another respawn left him fumbling for his prismarine shard, using it to dig into the nearby blocks. Along with the claw-like nails he had gained, Impulse was able to break another block, making him smile at first, but then his expression dropped. With the way the temples were constructed, the walls weren’t that thick. Instead of gaining an air pocket, he had just broken into another chamber.

“Impulse.”

In anger, Impulse took the prismarine shard and used it against the next guardian he saw.

“Impulse.”

He started by using it like a knife and jamming it into the eye of the beast, making it flail and spread its spikes.

“Impulse.”

As the world around him seemed to fade into blues and golds, Impulse kept attacking, needing to get his anger out somehow.

“Impulse. Impulse. Impulse.” And then Impulse felt like he was falling, but he still thrashed around, trying to stop whatever it was. Then the next thing he knew, it was like gravity had increased drastically, leaving him pressed against the floor. Something moved and he attacked it, surprised to find it feeling much fluffier than the guardians had been. There was a sound, like someone talking, but why would anyone be talking with him stuck all alone. Etho maybe? Was he back?

As the creature died in his hands, Impulse looked towards the sound. The first thing he noticed was that Etho’s eyes were now both red. Even the sclera were red. He had also dyed his hair blond, and gotten rid of his mask, and well that wasn’t Etho at all. Impulse kicked his legs to try and swim closer, only to finally realize he wasn’t underwater anymore.

The moment Impulse realized he was out of the sea temple, he started taking gulps of air. His lungs had already started breathing it all, but now he was trying to get as much oxygen as he could before he drowned again. A part in the back of his mind told him he couldn’t drown right now, but his mental state wasn’t the best right now.

“Hey Impulse. Calming down now?” Tango was asking, and Impulse looked over, glad to see his friend. He nodded, which got Tango to smile before looking off towards the horizon. Impulse briefly followed Tango’s eyes before his hand moved and he felt the soft wool of the carpets beneath him. It almost felt overwhelming how different it was compared to the past week plus that he had been stuck in the temple. But it was also good, so he wrapped himself up before following Tango’s eyes once more.

“What’s that way?” Impulse spoke, voice feeling unfamiliar from disuse and possibly alterations that matched everything else going on with him.

“Zed. I’m hoping he’ll be able to find us again since I have made a bit of a path.”

Impulse tilted his head before noticing his inventory had many more items. “Did he get killed or something?”

“Yeah, you sort of killed him when we first summoned you in.” Tango explained, and Impulse felt horrified. Him? Kill Zedaph? For a prank or something, sure, that was believable, But this had been from pure bloodlust at the time.

“I killed him? Oh no! I didn’t know! It had been a guardian at first, and then I was falling, and then I was-”

“Hey, calm down.” Tango replied. He took a step toward Impulse, obviously to comfort him, but then Impulse was surprised to see his friend change their mind and step back again. “Zed and I figured something like this might happen. We would have made beds to set our spawn, but we haven’t been collecting wool that much, so at most we would have had just one piece.”

Impulse chucked a little after realizing there were no sheep around. “What? Did Zedaph finally grow his hair out enough?” And he expected Tango to laugh in return, but the frown that appeared didn’t bode well.

“Impulse, do you… realize what you look like?” Tango asked, and then Impulse looked down at his hand and flexed it.

“What’s happened with Zedaph?”

Tango took a few steps to the side and a moment later the nearby leaves of a tree caught fire. “Zed and I have had both of our more animal-esque traits acting up. I’m burning just about any flammable thing that gets close to me and his wool is growing out of control. There’s other stuff too but…”

“But even if you’re not ending up like me, you’re still dealing with your own things.”

“Hey! I’m back! And it looks like Impulse has not killed you!”

Hels cut down a hoglin that was in the way of he and Wels as they travelled the nether. Wels was reluctantly following, his copy being the only reason he was doing so well right now. Well that, and the fact that he was promising some sort of shelter. They went a bit further, and then Wels spotted something that was clearly man made, making him try to run forward for shelter before he was grabbed by Hels. “Don’t run ahead idiot. I just know that you’ll manage to die if you try that and we’ll have to start all over.”

“Well I’m sure I could find a way to survive fine on my own.”

“Sure you could.” Hels said, obviously sarcastic. “And your death messages make that so very believable. Tell me, have you noticed anything odd about your situation, other than being stuck in the nether.”

“Well, chat hasn’t been working right and I can’t regenerate my health.”

“Right… Well, what have you been eating?” Hels asked as they finally reached the door to the helsmit’s base, opening it to let Wels inside.

“Mainly crimson fungi or the rare pork if I can chip enough health away from a hoglin.” Wels answered, linking himself to the respawn anchor sitting inside.

“That fungi is only edible to hoglins you know.” Hels said, closing the door and then crossing his arms.

“Well obviously that’s not the case here.” And then Wels made his point by munching down on a mushroom he still had in his inventory.

Hels pursed his lips before yanking the fungi out of Wels’ hand and then smashing the knight’s head against a nearby wall. “Spit that out right now or I’ll go again until I break your tusks.”

“My what?” Wels asked, reluctantly spitting out the half chewed fungus.

“You’re an idiot. How did you not notice you were growing tusks?”

And Wels didn’t have an answer, just letting his hand go to his mouth and feel what were definitely tusks. “When did-”

“Who knows. My guess is it's something with this world. It’s not like any of us want to be here.”

Wels looked back over to Hels at that comment, a questioning look on his face. “Evil Xisuma approached me a few weeks ago. He was planning to get into the new season before the rest of you so he could keep from getting banned and put some action into play with his brother and a number of the other hermits. I wasn’t as interested in his plan, but having fun on the server on my own seemed like a good idea to me. A few others were planning to join us, but I’m sure they haven’t followed along. So as far as I’m aware, it is only Evil Xisuma and I trapped here with all of you.”

“Well, at the very least neither of us are stuck here alone.” Wels spoke, trying to give a positive spin on things.

“I would have preferred to be alone.” Hels replied. “You’ll use up more of my resources. That being said, my guess is you’re necessary for whatever is going on around here to stop. So until that’s fixed or I learn otherwise, I am reluctantly helping you.”

“Alright, that sounds fine for now. And you said Evil Xisuma is here too, correct? Any clue where he could be?”

Bdubs stared down at the void below his feet, glad to have stopped moving, though his gut was still getting used to that change. The guy in pink armor next to him was reluctantly patting his back as another wave of nausea hit and he started to dry heave. “Th-Thanks.”

“Whatever. I just know what being stuck in the void is like so I have a little sympathy.”

“Well glad to know I’m not the only one stuck in this situation. Not that that’s a good thing.”

“Right.” The armored person deadpanned, looking down at the void as well.

Bdubs was quiet for a little before looking over to his savior. “So then, I don’t really think I caught your name in all our yelling to heave both of us up here.”

The other person raised an eyebrow at Bdubs, as if to ask if he was serious, then being a little surprised when he was. The person hesitated, looking down, not to the void but more at their lap, then a hand fiddled with their hair before they finally looked back at Bdubs. “Name’s Xannes.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bdubs!” And he held out a hand, pausing as he noticed the state it was in.

Xannes took the hand carefully and shook it, before helping it back to Bdubs’ side. “Side effect of the void. I’m more protected because of my armor, but you don’t have that.”

“Well now I’m actually upset about not having armor, even if it were pink.”

Xannes looked incredulous at that before putting his hands on his hips. “Hey, this is simply a… lightish red.”

“You mean pink.”

“Lightish. Red.”

“Lightish red is red mixed with white. And what does that give you? Pink. You’ve got pink armor.”

“Alright, so maybe it’s supposed to be pink.” Xannes conceded. “But my color is red, and this isn’t my armor, I’m simply borrowing it. So for anyone else, it would be pink, but as long as I wear it, it’s a lightish red.”

“Whatever you say.”

Xannes sighed and then carefully took Bdubs’ hand again. “Alright, so looking again, this doesn’t quite look as natural as being stuck in the voice can make it. Obviously that’s because none of this is natural. Even though it wouldn’t help me in the long run if it were working, I have tested plenty with my communicator and learned a number of things. First, we are not the only ones in a situation like this.”

“Yeah.” Bdubs agreed. “I already met Scar stuck on one of the islands below.”

“Noted.” Xannes nodded. “Well, others have similar odd spawns. I- Someone named Impulse had been stuck in a guardian temple, a Docm77 has been sent to his death by goats. X-Xisuma has been dealing with a warden.” Xannes started to explain, voice getting quieter at the last example, though Bdubs didn’t notice.

“And the void stuff?”

“If I knew more about what was going on, I could tell you. But as it stands, I can just tell your limbs seem to have a form of void-bite and your eyes are as dark as the void itself.”

Bdubs leaned back a little in shock at the comment. “Wait, really?” And then he was fishing into his shirt before pulling out a knife, Xannes’ eyes widening at the weapon. Bdubs held the blade up, briefly putting it back down to shine it against his shirt before using it as a mirror and then staring into it. Sure enough, his eyes seemed to go on forever into their sockets, pure darkness filling them.

“How many knives do you have?” Xannes asked, tearing Bdubs’ gaze from the weapon.

“Huh? Oh, I’ve got plenty. Want one?” And he pulled out another, only the tiniest bit worried about being stabbed by the unfamiliar person. But instead of stabbing him, Xannes simply threw the knife off the edge, watching it fall down. “What was that for?”

Xannes didn’t really reply, just holding a finger up for Bdubs to wait. Reluctantly, he did, but then got restless as time seemed to drag on. Any time he attempted to talk, he would just get shushed, making it feel even worse. Finally, out of nowhere, the knife suddenly fell past them, making Bdubs jump back enough that he nearly fell off their gateway and into the void, but Xannes grabbed him before that could happen and pulled him back in.

“Well then, it seems like a loop around the void lasts around two and a half minutes.” Xannes stated, shifting to turn his body and move to a different part of the gateway. “I guess it would be less on a second loop after already reaching terminal velocity, but it's good to know. I know something has been flying past here ever so often but I was still sort of stuck on the side of this thing for most of it, then I was dealing with you, so… you get the idea.”

“You telling me everything’s looping up and down like us?” Bdubs asked, looking around the sky, or what passed for it in the end.

“Us and anything non-living. I’ve already seen that there have been three void related deaths by Scar, Etho and TinFoilChef.”

“Well so far I’ve only seen Scar and you.” Bdubs replied. “I guess those other two are stuck around here too.”

“The chef, yes, but I’m not so sure about the other.” And Xannes handed his comm to Bdubs, showing a list of death messages, all belonging to Etho. “I have a function that lets me sort these messages. It’s very handy.” And then he reached off to the side, catching a comm as it fell from the air. “And this would be yours. I’ve seen it here and there… To be honest, it seems like it takes more than two or so minutes. We might need to test more.”

Bdubs swapped their communicators before looking down at the abyss below. “Well, Scar’s somewhere down there, I already found him once. I’m gonna see if I can get to him again and you can do whatever while I’m falling.”

Xannes rubbed his chin and then nodded. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll look out for you. If you respawn, wait a loop for me to catch you because I don’t have omniscient reaction time.”

“Sounds good to me.” Bdubs replied with a smile, then jumped into the void once more, ignoring the fear that came with it.

Scar rolled around on the end stone, trying to get to sleep. Sure, beds didn’t work in the end, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t sleep. It just wasn’t restful enough to keep phantoms away or set a spawn. Not like he needed to set a spawn three blocks away from his current one.

But right now, there was too much noise. The endermen were slowly losing their cool with Scar and he was also hearing the whispering of the vex. To be honest, that was probably why huge endermen were acting as they were. Void magic didn’t like to work with other magic.

But even with all of that, Scar really wanted to sleep for another reason. The whispers of the vex weren’t the only new thing with him. He had polished the pillar near him as just something to do other than wait around. The end rod in particular he shined until it was just mirror-like enough that he saw his green eyes were now vex blue. From that, he checked himself over a bit more and found that his eyes weren’t the only change. He seemed to be an inch or three shorter and his skin was definitely paler than before. He didn’t have wings again, but he knew it would only be a matter of time.

Scar really didn’t want to use any more help from the vex yet, knowing it would speed things up. He wanted to keep hope out for seeing Bdubs again before doing anything since it could be his last chance before a deal was needed once more. If he could just-

“Convex.” A much clearer whisper spoke, making Scar jump a little. “Are you sure a deal is such a bad thing at this stage in time?”

“Oh no no no no no.” Scar insisted, standing up and waving his hands in refusal. “I’m sure I’ll be better use to my friends if I’m not mostly stuck working with you guys.”

“What if you were not working for us?” The whisper asked, making Scar pause.

“Wait? I’m Convex because I can’t become true vex because of Xisuma and him tainting me and Cub with the void or something. I would think now being stuck in the end would make it worse, not better!”

“You still cannot, that is true. But a new evoker is being trained, one also tainted by the void. And I believe you would want to work with them.”

Scar inhaled sharply at the implication, knowing that it must be a hermit they were referring to. He fumbled in pulling his communicator out and then scrolled through all the death messages before finally seeing what he wanted. Death messages to vindicators and evokers, both about Mumbo. “So clarification on this deal?”

“You will still be considered Convex, but on a higher level than before. Not quite at the level of standard vex however. But during this, you will be linked to the new evoker, and cannot be released unless they themselves will it. And you should not will your release either.”

“Yeah, yeah, if that’s all, sure!” Scar agreed quickly, so excited he didn’t really take the time to think it over. Then suddenly he could feel more magic flowing into him. So much it felt like a red hot iron pressed all over his body, especially at his scars. And then it was gone, and he was left panting on the ground.

He didn’t know how long he had been there, but suddenly his name was shouted and Scar managed to lift his head up. He saw Bdubs rocking down towards him again and suddenly felt stronger again, getting a burst of energy and moving towards the builder. New wings spread from his back and let him fly, keeping him above the void as he grabbed his friend and then slowed them before reaching the abyss below, then slowly dragging them back up.

“Bdubs! Are you okay?!” Scar asked the moment they were both on the endstone, only staying on his feet for a second before his knees buckled beneath him.

“Am I okay? Am I okay?! I’m on the sweet sweet ground again!” And then he kissed the stone beneath him. “What about you? You look… not Scar but sound normal.”

“I can explain more in a bit. There’s an end city just over that way and I want to get something so we can start towards the main island. I’ll see if there’s elytra for you.”

“Oh no. I don’t think I ever want to fly again. If anyone, give it to Xannes.”

“Who?”

“Okay, guess my story first.”

On the main island, TFC dodged another attack from the dragon. She had been attacking less frequently, which was good and bad in his eyes. No attacking meant less dying, but TFC needed her attacks to even attempt destroying all the crystals. Because there was no way she was dying to fists alone with them still around.

That all being said, TFC had a sneaking suspicion on why exactly that was happening. His prosthetics were built to match his remaining limbs in function, but gradually over the past few respawns, they were becoming off balance. In trying to fix them, TFC realized he was less human than before, claws on his hands and feet, and tenderness at his tailbone and shoulder blades.

TFC was old, that much was true. And because of that, he had seen all sorts of situations. While for the most part the problems of this world were new to TFC, adaptations were not. A number of present day hybrids were a result of that. Heck, mob variants were also sourced from suce and occurrence. So yeah, TFC was not too surprised about seemingly becoming a dragon hybrid.

Thinking it over, in the long run it would likely give him just enough of an upper hand to defeat the dragon, but there was also the concern of how long it would take to get to that point and how far these alterations would go. If this went too far, the world itself could mistake him for a new ender dragon, and even after killing the real one, no portal would form due to his existence.

Well, if that was the case, he would need to figure out what it was that made the existence of the dragon close the portal and see if he could reverse it. Especially since he recalled at least one or two hermits were supposed to be stuck in the end with him. Though that did give him another idea. Maybe he didn’t have to keep fighting if the dragon opened the portal herself.

The next time TFC respawned, he waited, giving her time to rest. When he was sure the dragon was fully healed again, the miner made his way to the podium and waited. The dragon swooped a few times, giving some warning shots, but she didn’t attack TFC directly, and he made no move to attack the crystals. She didn’t look happy, but TFC had plenty of time to wait.

In a bout of frustration, ink was spilled over the floor, making Mumbo even more frustrated than before. He didn’t understand the need for learning another language just for spells. He was sure that knowing the characters that appeared with enchanting would be enough, but apparently the illagers had their own writing system. At the very least, Mumbo recognized a character or two that Scar or Cub must have had written down, but it still felt like he was learning a new language from scratch.

With ink all over the place, Mumbo paused to work on cleaning everything up. He had ruined nearly all his materials, so now he would have to attempt to get more or find an illager who would assist him in such a task. Paper was easy enough to get, a farm already set up in the mansion, but Mumbo hadn’t automated it yet, so there wasn’t going to be much to reap. And squid ink wasn’t something they just had on hand.

Mumbo reached the farming room and grabbed what sugarcane had grown, taking the reeds over to a crafting table then cutting and pressing them into paper. He only managed to make six pages from all of that and didn’t have the material to bind them into a book.Instead of leaving the room, Mumbo put the paper into a nearby chest and then pulled out his redstone materials.

As Mumbo built, he decided to multitask by using redstone dust to practice some of the characters he needed to learn. He couldn’t remember the normal order of the characters, so he just wrote them at random. He never really focused on the characters, so he didn’t notice when a few in a line started to glow a bit. In fact, he was just pausing his writing to work on fixing a bit of redstone, his head stuck in the contraption.

His hand blindly reached for some string to add as a tripwire, but he was about half a foot to the wrong side of his pile of materials. When Mumbo’s hand started to go further, it was stopped by some thread being placed in his hand. The redstoner said his thanks and then strung it up before pausing and pulling his head out.

Standing nearby was someone Mumbo immediately recognized, not knowing anyone else with a bright red sweater like that. Not caring that he was currently covered in redstone dust, Mumbo jumped at the newcomer and hugged them tightly, so glad to see a familiar face. “Grian! You’re okay! How did you get here? Where are the bots? Are you alright?”

But pulling away again, Mumbo watched as Grian just blinked at him, seeming a little confused. “I think you may be mistaken and confused, my mustachioed friend. I mean, I am okay and I got here because of you, but I’m not sure what you mean by bots and well, you were trying to take to someone named Grian.”

Mumbo furrowed his brows. Looking them over again, he could tell this had to be Grian. His clothes and hair and everything were the same. He couldn’t quite tell about their eyes because they were wearing a mask, but it matched the one he had seen Grian with in the past, a black mark on its face instead of the purple Eflyn expected. The only thing unfamiliar were the wings. Shape and pattern wise, they matched the wings Grian had, but the colors of the feathers were no longer red yellow and blue, but purple grey and black.

“Well then. If you’re not Grian, then who are you?” Mumbo asked, and the person giggled slightly.

“I could have swore you already knew, but I guess not. The name is Xelqua, but don’t go throwing it around to just anyone.” And just hearing it reminded Mumbo. It had been a name Grian had told him before.

“Well, if you don’t want me throwing it around, I’m going to have to call you something.” Mumbo spoke up, Xelqua seeming to agree. “Since I already mistook you for him and he’s not around, how about I call you Grian.”

“Hmm.” Grian thought about it before shaking his head. “Just you and me, you can call me Xelqua. Otherwise just Watcher is fine, okay?”

“But I-” Mumbo started to say, and then there was a clatter, making Mumbo and Grian look over at the door where Eflyn was standing.

“Well. It seems we have another guest then…”

Joe had paused in his material gathering. It was just going to be for a little bit, but he needed to clear his head. And the best idea he had for that was climbing the tower at spawn the correct way. Sure, he could try climbing from the outside or something, finding a window, but at this point these were definitely Watchers, and Joe was very much aware that they were not to be messed with.

Joe needed to pause on a platform to hold his head, a headache forming. It had been coming and going for a while, but it didn’t feel so bad now, the tower already lit up pretty well. As he waited, his other hand clutched at the wall as best it could, just feeling the texture of the wall, as if to check that it was real. “Guess you really couldn’t have been swayed, now could you?” Joe asked, speaking into the empty air around him. “Well maybe after this mess we can try it again.”

Joe climbed a few more parts of the parkour that acted as steps before nearly falling to a sudden splitting headache. He half considered letting go and trying again, there being enough hay lining the floor below to break his fall, but he had already gotten so far. And maybe if he could get to the top of the tower…

It had been ages ago when Joe had first met a Watcher. From what he could tell, it was even the first Watcher to exist. One that eventually disappeared to time that not even the other Watchers knew what happened. He wasn’t an expert of whatever the Watchers exactly were, but it had been enough that he recognized Grian as one pretty quickly when they first met in season six. Though that was partially from that not being their first meeting.

Yes, Joe had been along for a very long time. Which is why he was not happy with everything going on. But he had a bargaining chip in the form of knowledge, so getting to the top might be the one place to try and use it.

His headache passed and the glow from his eyes faded. Joe pulled himself back onto the platform and then adjusted his glasses. Just a bit more to go until he was at the top.

Doc woke up in a wood hut, lying in a bed. His back and head hurt, getting worse when he attempted to move to get up. He tried to remember what happened last, but suddenly being knocked unconscious wasn’t the best thing to try and remember. Looking around in a way that didn’t hurt as much, he was able to see a chest as well as something lying on the ground to his right.

Some crackling implied there was also a furnace running nearby. Mixed with that was some slight banging of metal from crafting and the hum of a tune that was familiar to Doc, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Another attempt to sit up left Doc yelp slightly in pain, stopping the humming and crafting sounds, getting replaced with footsteps that came towards him. “Are you awake this time?”

“Grumbot?” Doc asked, vaguely recognizing the robot that appeared in front of him. He only really distinctly knew his larger form, only seeing him and his brother at this size when they were just about to leave their previous world.

“Yeah. looks like you are. We have some bread if you’re hungry.” Grum spoke in a quiet voice that felt so odd compared to how energetic the hermits usually were. That being said, it had been a while since he had seen anyone else, so it might have just been from what others were dealing with. “I also left some of the wheat as wheat if you prefer that.”

“What? Why would I want that? Bread sounds fine.”

“Okay, I wasn’t sure if you were like dad or not.” Grum said before he went over to the chest, giving Doc a moment to think things over.

“Dad as in Grian or Mumbo?”

“Grian.” Grum answered, pulling out some food. “He was with us on the mountain. Everything was getting to him, so he started eating seeds instead of other stuff.”

“Okay. Is he out getting supplies or something?” Doc asked and then Grum’s face shifted to something sadder. “What happened to Grian?”

“I don’t know.” Grum spoke, managing to be quieter than before. “He just disappeared and Jrum and I were stuck alone on the mountain. And then I messed up.” And it took all of Doc’s willpower to not sit up and possibly hurt himself in the process with how sad Grum sounded in that moment.

“Why? What happened?”

“Someone figured out how to send messages in chat by accident. Jrum and I noticed, and we were going to try it out for ourselves, but it didn’t go right. And now Jrum… Jrum didn’t respawn right.”

And with that comment, Doc realized what was on the ground nearby. Jrum’s body was laid out, screen dark and body unmoving. “How long has he been like that?”

“A few days I think. It got really snowy so I couldn’t quite tell. Then I got busy digging through the snow until I found some ice to break.”

“And that must have been the waterfall I took down off the mountain.” Doc said, making Grum look a little sheepish.

“Sorry about hitting you when I fell. I freaked out a bit and then you were there and I couldn’t react in time. I’m sure if it was anyone else, they would have been in worse shape.”

“Why’s that?” Doc asked, though he had an idea based on which side of him ached more.

“Well, your metal parts helped protect you plus I think your thicker skull helped from a concussion.”

“My what?”

“Oh, I thought you…” Grum said, trailing off. “Um, so I think more weird stuff is happening than just being stuck wherever.”

“Yeah, I knew that.” Doc said. “Creeper instincts have been kicking in like crazy.”

“Well, your death messages mentioned goats a lot. It looks like because of that, you’ve started turning into a goat hybrid as well.”

“I’ve what?” Doc asked, incredulously. He ignored the pain from moving when he started feeling himself over, finally finding horns coming from his head. “Oh… huh…”

Grum forced Doc back down to a resting position before feeding him some bread. Here, how about I tell you what I know about, then you can tell me what you know.

“Sounds good to me.”

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goldenvoicedminstrel · 3 years

Note

Hot take; Maglor has written every member of his immediate and extended family a song inspired by them. Every single one of them has promptly learned to play/sing that song, even if that is the only song they know (looking at you Caranthir) they know it perfectly.

This comes in handy later, because when Maglors memories start fading he keeps his family alive by singing their songs over and over. It’s also good for the family members, because when everything else about Maglors existence fades away, they have the songs to prove that he was real and that he loved them.

I had a lot of thoughts and even more emotions about this, so enjoy my rambling.

Let’s say it starts with someone, perhaps Fëanor, telling his small son the story of the Ainulindalë, how Eru composed the Great Music and the Ainur sang Arda into being, and how everything and everyone is a part of that Music.

Of course young Makalaurë, who learned to sing before he could speak, is enchanted.

We are all a song! The next day he comes to Nerdanel and starts to hum a simple, sweet melody, that sounds a bit like a lullaby. When she asks what song it is, he only says: “Yours.”

(She begins to use it as a lullaby for him when he is afraid at night, and later for his brothers as well. It works without fail.)

And that is only the beginning. Because once he has started to hear the melody in everyone around him, he cannot stop and while the most important part is still the melody, he starts to make up words, too, and so the songs are born.

Maitimo’s gives him a lot of trouble at first. He is too young and inexperienced and he finds that his attempts to create something as graceful, kind and perfect as his older brother all fall short. It takes him years to finally put together a melody “well-formed” enough. It is indeed very beautiful and harmonic and has a majestic air to it that makes his brother blush, but Maitimo will always love best the first attempt his little brother presented him with so long ago.

It is easier for his younger brothers, children in general are louder in every way, and though he makes small changes over the years and adds parts to their songs as they grow, the melody at core remains the same.

Tyelko’s starts as a children’s rhyme, that teaches his brother to imitate the animals he loves (the elf version of old MacDonald had a farm) and evolves until it seems to be made up only of the sound of the birds and the barking of dogs and even, in a particularly dramatic moment, the bellow of a stag.

Little Carnistir’s song starts out much quieter, but rises unexpectedly at times, and when his brother was very young, Makalaurë used to throw him into the air with the crescendos and he would shriek and giggle until he was red in the face. Later, he adds some words a plays on the numbers that Moryo so enjoys, and sometimes he can hear him absentmindedly hum the melody under his breath when brooding over another problem. (There is also a rhyme very obviously leading up to a swear word, which is then abruptly left out for comedic purposes.)

Words are important in Curvo’s song as well. It is the most complicated, fast-paced like their father’s, made up of many different parts all moulded together. There are many wordplays, because smithing is hard to portray in song, but word-smithing is much easier, and Makalaurë always knows when his brother is singing his song in his head, for an amused little smile appears in the corner of his mouth.

Each of the twins have their own song, but they are both built around the same musical theme and made to be sung as a duet. The Ambarussa immediately invent a game in which one of them hides in the woods, and the other, with his eyes closed, has to find him only through singing his part and listening to the answering verse.

(He likes to add verses for special occasions and perform them elaborately. He did this for all his brothers when they came of age, and again for Curvo’s wedding. On the other hand he is not afraid to compose a verse of pure mockery when his brother have been getting on his nerves again. But those are only temporary of course. Though they can be very catchy.)

The last time he sings his brothers their songs, the last time any of them do so out loud in front of the others, is on the ship to Beleriand. He hopes it will raise their spirits and strengthen their resolve.

Then their father dies violently and for the first time Makalaurë does not feel like singing, not even in grief.

(Or perhaps he stops singing them before that, when one of the Ambarussa fails to answer their brother’s song for the first time.)

Maitimo is taken and when he comes back, Maglor cannot bear to induce the torment his brother’s body and fëa have suffered into his melody as well, but when he tries to sing him his old song on his sickbed, Maedhros flinches away. And Maglor understands.

He has always tried to capture their fëa with his songs. But the people he wrote his songs about do not exist anymore, while at the same time he will not- cannot- erase this last piece of home, of a happier time, so he keeps the songs locked away in his mind, like a most priced jewel in a glass case, to be viewed but not touched again.

(Later, much later, when Maedhros steps forward, Silmaril in hand, into the fiery chasm, he does not remember his melody anymore.)

(When Caranthir dies alone in Doriath he hums.)

Yet still, parts of them, snippets of melody, make it into his greatest work before he realises it. His brothers’ songs become the strands that make up the frame of the Noldolantë, because as much as Maglor says the song is about the downfall of the Noldor, first and foremost, it is about his family.

He begins singing them again only after they are all gone.

They sound sad at first, because even the happiest song does when sung by a sad man,

but they become happier the longer he repeats them, and he is happier because he is with his brothers again and that feels so much more real than the cold, wet sand and hard rocks under his feet, and the chill clinging to his ragged clothes and protruding bones.

The songs become happier and then they fade away.

But still they are sung in Valinor, where all those lost souls return to eventually.

After everything that has happened, it is not easy to remember the person you used to be and even harder to know who you are now.

When Nerdanel welcomes back her sons, who stumble out of the Halls like frightened children once again, she hums a melody to them that, she too, had locked away in her mind for a long time before releasing it again, in the times when the quiet was oppressing and the absence of her family like a physical wound. She hummed it under her breath or sang it to the empty room to remind herself her son had loved her once.

Her own song. Calm and steady, slow where her husband’s had been fast, and repetitive where his had been ever changing. In every repetition a little detail had been changed, chiseled away like the outer layers of stone, until laid bare was the first song her son had ever written, a simple, sweet melody gifted by a little boy to his ammë.

She hums this melody into her sons’ ears when she takes them into her arms again for the first time in millennia, when they still cannot quite believe her to be real. Later she sings them another song, theirs, unchanged by time like none of them are, and her words are sincere and not filled with cruel irony.

The Ambarussa are the first to pick their melodies up again, and they begin to echo them back to each other like they did when they first learned them, and they rediscover that they are not alone.

Caranthir hums his song under his breath, and remembers he does not have to keep all his emotions hidden, and that his outbursts had once not only been angry, but filled with laughter as well.

Curufin repeats the familiar words, and recalls a time when his sharp tongue had been a source of amusement rather than manipulation, and his sharper mind had sough to solve complicated problems instead of creating them.

Celegorm stands in the woods and imitates the animal calls his song helped him perfect long ago- and the animals answer him. He listens and laughs without cruelty, and remembers what love truly felt like.

Maedhros, when he finally arrives, sings the melody carefully, and when he tries to recreate its beauty, he remembers what it felt like to be whole and at peace.

But while they have their brother’s songs they do not have their brother.

They wait and they keep singing, hoping against all reason that somehow it might reach him, bring him comfort that they are safe now, bring him back to them.

He never comes. And so they cling to their songs in a way they cannot cling to him, and once again the songs remain unchanged.

Not because they pretend to be the same people they were before, but because this is the last thing they have of Makalaurë. He never wrote a song about himself, after all.

#i really really hate the implication of maglor fading away #yet here i am #sorry this took ages - having both exams and lessons is literal hell #thanks again for the ask though because that take is GENIUS #also very probable giving the canon obsession with songs #maglor #feanorians #asks #long post #i recognise this answer might be a bit excessive but i regret nothing #does this count as a fic already?#silm #golden writes

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bird-of-fyre · 3 years

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Empires SMP x Wynncraft AU

Been playing a bunch of Wynncraft (an MMO in MC co-owned and I think also created by Grian) and the two BIG plot devices in it are Corruption (Wyyn Province) and Decay (Gavel Province). Both are similar and have ties to the same catalyst.

What’s going on in Empires right now? Corruption. So my brain went brrr and we have this. Feel free to write for, make fanart, etc. with this AU just tag me so that I can see it!

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There are 2 realms in Wynncraft that are constantly at odds with each other. The Realm of Darkness (Dern) and the Realm of Light. When the two forces meet, corruption is formed and the battlefield of their war took place within the Nether. In Wynn, Human miners unearthed a Nether portal and entered, the magic within corrupting and changing them; they returned leading armies of undead that still terrorize the province today. In Gavel, a parasitic entity emerged from a Dern portal and began to infect the magic-enriched land with the Decay.

Corruption spreads like a weed through roots spanning under the entirety of Wynn; the only known force to stall it is Ice Magic. Decay spreads like an infection and slowly consumes the land, it is weak to Light Magic.

The land Empires SMP takes place on is going to be known as Empiria because I feel it deserves a name for this AU. A strange magic protects this land that is believed to be a result of the banishment of Corruption by the Gods before they fell into slumber. Empirians call it "Respawn Magic” as upon dying one is revived at perfect health (though scars may remain depending on the cause of death). Death to age is still a thing, however lifespans of most inhabitants are extended two decades with the exception of elves who live even longer.

Several Empires already existed before the present day crew, these being the following: Rivendell, Mythland, The Overgrown, The Ocean Empire, The Lost Empire, and Smallhold. The rest only came to rise in the past decade

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Characters:

Fwhip: A human that hails from the Wynn province. Him and his sister Gem lived in Detlas together as their parents died in a battle against the endless armies of undead. Fwhip was fascinated by the corruption in their land and sought to study it, perhaps maybe even find out a cure. Gem stopped him from this obsession, reminding him that those that went down that path all ended up becoming harbingers of the corruption. They moved to the land of Empiria shortly around the present day where Fwhip found the Grimlands and the crystalized redstone that tainted it drew his attention. Gem wasn’t fond of the idea but it was a different kind of corruption than that back home so she let him study it. Somehow manages to come off as unhinged yet still in complete control.

Gem: Hailing from Wynn, Gem and Fwhip left for new lands to escape the corruption and undead armies. She settled in a mountainous biome full of amethyst crystals so that she could keep an eye on her brother as his fascination with volatile crystalized redstone worries her. She knew basic fire magic pre-Emperia but now is a bit more adept in her powers and has also learned many more spells. She joined the Wither Rose Alliance with Fwhip and Sausage simply to keep the two chaotic gremlins in line.

Jimmy: A Cod-Hybrid from the Ocean Empire and the adopted brother of Lizzie. He left home to found his own empire in the nearby swamp with his sister’s well wishes. His kingdom is small, but he is a kind and generous ruler that doesn’t see himself above his subjects. While working on paths he found a human washed up on the shore in poor condition; this individual was Joel, a nobody from a far away land who really had just given up on any form of future. Jimmy tends to be the person that generally gets picked on by other rulers for having the smallest empire and because he’s very gullible. Close friends with Pix, who he eagerly loves hearing stories of Corkus from.

Joel: Originally from the port town of Nemract in Wynn, Joel tried to start a religion called Jeremyism in memorium of a donkey he lost to the corruption that never took off due to the Bovemists and their own religion. He cheated some pirates in gambling so they took him hostage and forced him to be part of their crew, not that he was complaining, it was way better than the life he had before. Unfortunately, this didn’t last very long as a battle against some rival pirates during a horrible storm ended with him getting tossed overboard. He awoke on the shore of a swamp where he encountered a cod-hybrid who, with their sister, helped him get back on his feet. After experiencing the Cod and Ocean Empires he decided to start his own in the mesa across the ocean so that he can remain close allies with the duo that saved his life. Him and Lizzie marry a few years later.

Joey: A parrot-hybrid that rules over the Lost Empire as its emperor. He is extremely flirtatious and has questionable morals, but despite this he does care for his people. Fascinated by supernatural forces such as immortality and corruption and also always is looking to grow more powerful in any way he can. He has wind magic but doesn’t tend to use it very much.

Kathrine: A fae whose ancestors were originally from the Realm of Light in a time before the Decay took root in Gavel and Dernic forces made their way into the said realm. When she learns of the origins of several new rulers she is surprised as she had only ever been told of Gavel and Dern. Her and Scott are close, given both their ancestral homes were in Gavel.

Lizzie: An axolotl hybrid who rules over the Ocean Empire. She is a generous and humble ruler who takes pride in he empire and her people. She found a young cod-hybrid caught in a fishermans net when she was still a princess and saved him, declaring him her new brother (which he was happy about). When she was asked to help with a human that had washed onto the shores of Jimmy’s empire she had not been expecting to fall in love with the stranger and is now married to Joel. Wields powerful water magic and takes nonsense from nobody (including her husband).

Pearl: The carefree ruler of Smallhold, an Empire that originally started out as a poor farming village that was struggling on hard times. Pearl is a nymph who took pity on the town and used her magic to help the village through hard times, eventually having them elect her as their queen. Despite her title, she prefers to see herself on equal terms as her people.

Pix: A human from the province of Corkus with great enthusiasm, ambition, and taste for the occasional mischief. He left the island province for new beginnings after accidentally breaking several Corkian laws that would have ended him in prison. His dedication to The Vigil is something he learned from interaction and time spent with the Avos; a race of bird humanoids that were the only inhabitants of Corkus before humans settled there. Pix is fantastic when it comes to metallurgy and uses this knowledge to his advantage when it comes to the copper and other metals he uses in his Empire.

Sausage: Born in the province of Fruma to a poor family Sausage always desired more and often had dreams about becoming a royal and learning magic as only they were allowed the luxury of such. He acted as the robin hood of Fruma for a time before he was eventually caught by the Fruman army and shipped off to Wynn as a soldier to aid the said province in their eternal war against the undead. Unlike most Fruman humans entering Wynn, Sausage did not loose his memories and took the first chance he got to stow away on a ship to new lands. Unfortunately, the ship in question was destroyed in a storm and he washed up onto the shores of Mythland (a smaller town without leadership at the time) and was made its king a year or so thereafter. Given he has no magical abilities of his own due to his origins, he turned to Blood Magic as it’s the closest he’ll ever get.

Scott: The elves of Rivendell originally hailed from Aldorei in Gavel, leaving to escape the Decay. Scott was young when they left for the new lands and, unfortunately, several of the fleeting group were lost to creatures of Dern and Decay; including his older brother, Xornoth. There had been no time to retrieve the bodies of the fallen so those that were left behind were assumed dead or infected. While cold and normally detached from the affairs of others, he does care about his fellow empires. He has light magic but struggles to wield it properly.

Shelby: Gone from her village Shelby returned to find it overun by the Decay and the monsters that come with it. Unable to do anything for her people, she left for new lands. Gavel’s best and brightest couldn’t find a cure for the Decay in their homeland so she hopes that maybe, in this new one, that she might find something to save her people.

Xornoth: Once an elf, now a twisted demonic entity with a lust for destruction. Wounded and separated from his family in an attack while attempting to leave Gavel, he was captured by an acolyte of Dern named Bak’al who brought him back to the realm of darkness. It is here that Xornoth was slowly and painfully corrupted in both mind and body, becoming yet another agent of the beast that governs the dark realm.

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dashedwithromance · 3 years

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what am i supposed to do (when there’s no you?)

kotc comes out next week!! i can’t believe it’s nearly here, and we get to see wrath and emilia again!! i haven’t written anything other than star wars for a while, but i hope this is okay. love you all xx

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Her reflection stared back at her, haunting eyes locked on with a frightened gaze. The mirror, her enemy. Strangely enough, not even the demon princes that stalked the wicked kingdom she found herself ruler of scared her quite as much as the mirror in her bathing chamber. Or the hand-held in the drawer of her bedside table. Or the impressive, gold-gilded monstrosity on her vanity.

She couldn’t bear to look at any of them.

Queen of Hell, and terrified of reflecting glass.

Her reflection haunted her more than any ghost, the flash of dark curls paired with a laugh she heard every day and would never hear again. The quirk of a smile that ached desperately, painted on her face like a mockery of the joy it once embodied.

Appearances were everything in the kingdom of the Wicked, but she couldn’t stand to see her own. It was a weakness she kept close to her heart, trapped inside with the abhorrent overflow of memories she treasured and banished with equal fervour.

Emilia stifled a groan and clenched her hands into fists. Her nails dug into her palms with a biting fury. She’d locked herself inside the first room she’d found, having sprinted from the main hall before she could realise how stupid her plan was. ‘Plan’ was a generous name, considering it consisted of one part panicked feeling, one part grief, and one very violent part of her that was growing scarily close to ‘accidentally’ committing mariticide.

It was the cherries that had set her off. They weren’t even real – fresh fruit was not a luxury one could indulge in Hell, nor would she have wanted to. She remembered stories of fallen maidens taking one bite of fruit from the hand of a prince and being confined to the underworld forever. Despite being queen, it was not a chance she was willing to take.

The cherries in question were metallic, made of gold and silver entwined around a candelabra. They seemed to glow in the low light, taunting her, reminding her of summers spent laughing with her twin, cherry-stained hands and salt-crusted hair. She’d taken one look at them, remembered what day it was, and burst from the room like a frightened bird. Not her best look, if she were truthful.

Memories weighed down on her chest like the pressing stones of witch trials past. More weight, she wanted to say. Take it off, let me breathe, she wanted to cry. Nothing helped.

Grief ebbed and flowed, but today it swelled like a rising tide. Suffocating her, pushing her under, dragging her down by the neck and laughing as she gasped and spluttered.

They’d never spent a birthday apart. It was unthinkable – it was always their birthday, their celebration, their matching celebration dresses. They’d grown out of matching outfits when they’d reached twelve, but the shared celebration never died.

Until Vittoria did.

Emilia closed her eyes, and the memories took firm hold.

Cherry stains dripped down their chins and fingers, sticky and sweet and full of the taste of home. Every summer they would eat themselves silly with the deep red stone fruit, egging each other on until the nearest adult intervened. For their seventh birthday, Emilia had dropped a bleeding cherry on Vittoria’s pretty dress, and her twin had mushed a handful against the fabric of her matching skirt. Emilia had shrieked, and Vittoria had laughed until her sister followed suit with a smile she couldn’t contain.

A shriek of laughter pierced the late summer calm, its twin following half a second later. Two girls ran towards the sea, one leading the other by the hand. The bolder twin threw herself into the water with a wild grin and gestured for her sister to follow. Another half-second wait and the dark-haired girl flung herself into the sea with a peal of laughter.

That was the way things always were with her and Vittoria. Never apart for too long, until the cruel hand of death swooped in and plucked her sister from her grasp.

Something twinged in her chest. As if a part of her was missing, had been since the day she’d found her sister’s ruined body. Her first reaction, to everything really, had been anger – wrath, she thought with a stain of painful irony – but when the anger ebbed away, she was left with ocean darkened with the taint of things that would never be. She would never see her sister again, never spend hours together in the kitchen, laughing and teasing each other over the boys in the village. No one would ever understand her the way Vittoria did, no matter if she lived forever.

The curse of her grief was that she could never forget her sister’s face. She would know exactly how her sister would age, would know exactly when grey would frame her face, when laugh lines would appear. Mirrors were a cruel taunt; a living eulogy.

Looking up from the floor, staring past the haze of panic, she locked eyes with her twin. Her own wretched gaze stared back at her, tears welling in Vittoria’s eyes.

She looked away. She could bear it no longer.

The room she found herself in was ornately decorated; black silk with gilded gold, a serpent motif around the bed frame. The room felt familiar, and she desperately hoped she was wrong.

Snatching the luxuriously soft blanket from a nearby chair, she covered the mirror that sat on the vanity. The room, somehow, felt colder. Emptier.

Then, like a curse on her name, footsteps echoed from the hallway outside and stopped right before the door.

Drawing herself up, forcing all mention of weakness to leave her frame, she glared at the figure who strode right in.

Prince Wrath stood in the doorway, the gold detailing of his suit winking in the dim light. Emilia eyed up the ornamental vase on the table beside her and strongly considered throwing it at his head. For a moment, the world was consumed by silence.

Then, the smug bastard opened his mouth and broke it.

“Running away from your own party?”

She was going to throw the fucking vase right over his stupid face. He could tell every violent thought that raced through her mind – she just knew he could, the way his perfect lips quirked up ever so infuriatingly to one side – until he stopped. Looked at her. Looked to the mirror on his vanity, covered up by a stolen blanket. Looked back.

The smug look disappeared.

The room became ice. She felt naked standing there, his gaze seeing into the very marrow of her bones. Just when the tension became unbearable, she spun around, unable to look at him any longer. She couldn’t look at him any more than she could look at her own wretched reflection. Hellfire licked at her eyelids, stinging and hot.

What did he see when he looked at her, in that moment? She hoped it was queen-like, the picture of savage grace and hellish composure. It wasn’t.

“Emilia...” For the first time in, well, ever, Wrath struggled for words.

“Emilia, I’m sorry.”

The shock of his apology had her whirling around. His golden eyes held more sympathy than any demon should ever have known. Of all the demons in Hell to realise what today meant, of course, it would be Wrath. Insufferable, infuriating, ineffable Wrath, possibly the only person in the underground kingdom who understood her. Not like Vittoria did – no one would ever come close – but like a river understood the rushing tide.

He was a mystery, but also the only thing she knew. Wrapped up in a cloud of perfumed falsities, but the only one who told her the truth.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Could he hear it?

“I have never lost a brother, not like that. Nor am I as close to mine as you were to your sister.” The words were stilted, heavy and awkward. Wrath was not a man of words, but his tone was gentle. But, she noted with no small portion of surprise, the speech was genuine. She thought perhaps she was going mad.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a twin,” He paused, considering, “I’m sorry, for your loss.”

Another pause.

“And I’m sorry for the role my family – the role I – have played in your grief.”

Somewhere in his speech, she’d closed her eyes. She didn’t want him to see the tears, but he knew that. The heaviness of her chest was still present, but it was bearable, somehow.

She nodded, swallowing the cry that threatened to burst forward.

“Thank you,” She whispered, so quiet she wondered if he’d even heard.

The air between them was taut, stretched and thin. The strength she’d hid behind all day had fled long ago, and she felt so exhausted she might collapse. She didn’t think to consider the implications by sitting down on his stupidly large bed, only that her chest hurt and for just a moment, she wanted a friend.

Hesitantly – if a demon prince could hesitate – Wrath sat next to her on the bed. The sight is so comical she nearly laughed – Wrath, the brother of her husband, prince of the most dangerous sin, her friend, her enemy – perched on the side of his bed with an air of respectability she didn’t think he even possessed. Stranger things had happened, she supposed.

It was like a fable; demon and witch, sat side by side in silence. For hours, they barely spoke. The words didn’t matter – Wrath was terrible with them, and the ones she wanted got stuck in her throat. Neither of them noticed when midnight passed, and the worst day of the year was over.

Perhaps one day, she’d tell him stories of Vittoria. Tell him stories of cherries and salt air and limitless laughter, so he would know her as the bright, brilliant girl she was, and not the martyred corpse she’d become.

The next day, all the mirrors in her chambers were covered. There was no note, but there was a familiar vase full of orange blossom flowers on her bedside table.

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#kingdom of the wicked #kingdom of the cursed #prince wrath #vittoria di carlo #princewitch #my writing #yall i hope this is okay ive been consumed by space wizards for months #this is my personal headcanon and probably wrong but i think wrath is absolutely terrible with words #like he can fool people with a phrase if he wants and wrap them up in silver lies and half-truths #but when talking genuinely? without a film of disguise? trying to actually communicate his feelings??#boy is shit at it. every single time. terrible without fail #but! he tries

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butterflies-dragons · 3 years

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"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." This is the very first line of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy and GRRM is very aware of these words; so far he has mentioned it in reference of Sansa Stark and Jon Snow:

Arya was one of the first characters created. Sansa came about as a total opposite b/c too many of the Stark family members were getting along and families aren’t like that. Thus, Sansa was created; he ended by saying they have deep issues to work out. [Source]

An interesting question was “Why are there so many sons who are unloved by their fathers, like Sam, Jon, Tyrion and Theon?” I watched George’s reaction carefully (I was sitting close to him) and he did not take issue with the assumption that Jon Snow is part of the “unloved sons” (obviously the dynamic talked about is Jon/Eddard, not Rhaegar). He nodded at the question and said that he does not have the full quote with him, but the great Russian writer Tolstoy once said that happy families are boring - this was followed by a big round of applause cause every Russian knows this quote very well (the quote by Tolstoy is: All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. [Source]

And recently I found another similarity with Tolstoy's work and Sansa.

In spite of the obvious differences, Sansa Stark, the betrothed of the Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon, showing her evident crush and concern about Ser Loras Tyrell's safety during the Hand's Tourney, reminds me of Anna Karenina making evident her illicit affair with Count Vronsky in front of everyone, her husband Alexey Alexandrovitch Karenin included, during the races:

She flew over the ditch as though not noticing it. She flew over it like a bird; but at the same instant Vronsky, to his horror, felt that he had failed to keep up with the mare’s pace, that he had, he did not know how, made a fearful, unpardonable mistake, in recovering his seat in the saddle. All at once his position had shifted and he knew that something awful had happened. He could not yet make out what had happened, when the white legs of a chestnut horse flashed by close to him, and Mahotin passed at a swift gallop. Vronsky was touching the ground with one foot, and his mare was sinking on that foot. He just had time to free his leg when she fell on one side, gasping painfully, and, making vain efforts to rise with her delicate, soaking neck, she fluttered on the ground at his feet like a shot bird. The clumsy movement made by Vronsky had broken her back. But that he only knew much later. At that moment he knew only that Mahotin had flown swiftly by, while he stood staggering alone on the muddy, motionless ground, and Frou-Frou lay gasping before him, bending her head back and gazing at him with her exquisite eyes. Still unable to realize what had happened, Vronsky tugged at his mare’s reins. Again she struggled all over like a fish, and her shoulders setting the saddle heaving, she rose on her front legs but unable to lift her back, she quivered all over and again fell on her side. With a face hideous with passion, his lower jaw trembling, and his cheeks white, Vronsky kicked her with his heel in the stomach and again fell to tugging at the rein. She did not stir, but thrusting her nose into the ground, she simply gazed at her master with her speaking eyes.

“A—a—a!” groaned Vronsky, clutching at his head. “Ah! what have I done!” he cried. “The race lost! And my fault! shameful, unpardonable! And the poor darling, ruined mare! Ah! what have I done!”

—Anna Karenina, Part Two, Chapter 25 - Leo Tolstoy

Everyone was loudly expressing disapprobation, everyone was repeating a phrase someone had uttered—“The lions and gladiators will be the next thing,” and everyone was feeling horrified; so that when Vronsky fell to the ground, and Anna moaned aloud, there was nothing very out of the way in it. But afterwards a change came over Anna’s face which really was beyond decorum. She utterly lost her head. She began fluttering like a caged bird, at one moment would have got up and moved away, at the next turned to Betsy.

“Let us go, let us go!” she said.

But Betsy did not hear her. She was bending down, talking to a general who had come up to her.

Alexey Alexandrovitch went up to Anna and courteously offered her his arm.

“Let us go, if you like,” he said in French, but Anna was listening to the general and did not notice her husband.

“He’s broken his leg too, so they say,” the general was saying. “This is beyond everything.”

Without answering her husband, Anna lifted her opera-glass and gazed towards the place where Vronsky had fallen; but it was so far off, and there was such a crowd of people about it, that she could make out nothing. She laid down the opera-glass, and would have moved away, but at that moment an officer galloped up and made some announcement to the Tsar. Anna craned forward, listening.

“Stiva! Stiva!” she cried to her brother.

But her brother did not hear her. Again she would have moved away.

“Once more I offer you my arm if you want to be going,” said Alexey Alexandrovitch, reaching towards her hand.

She drew back from him with aversion, and without looking in his face answered:

“No, no, let me be, I’ll stay.”

She saw now that from the place of Vronsky’s accident an officer was running across the course towards the pavilion. Betsy waved her handkerchief to him. The officer brought the news that the rider was not killed, but the horse had broken its back.

On hearing this Anna sat down hurriedly, and hid her face in her fan. Alexey Alexandrovitch saw that she was weeping, and could not control her tears, nor even the sobs that were shaking her bosom. Alexey Alexandrovitch stood so as to screen her, giving her time to recover herself.

“For the third time I offer you my arm,” he said to her after a little time, turning to her. Anna gazed at him and did not know what to say. Princess Betsy came to her rescue.

“No, Alexey Alexandrovitch; I brought Anna and I promised to take her home,” put in Betsy.

“Excuse me, princess,” he said, smiling courteously but looking her very firmly in the face, “but I see that Anna’s not very well, and I wish her to come home with me.”

Anna looked about her in a frightened way, got up submissively, and laid her hand on her husband’s arm.

“I’ll send to him and find out, and let you know,” Betsy whispered to her.

—Anna Karenina, Part Two, Chapter 29 - Leo Tolstoy

* * *

When the Knight of Flowers made his entrance, a murmur ran through the crowd, and he heard Sansa’s fervent whisper, “Oh, he’s so beautiful.” Ser Loras Tyrell was slender as a reed, dressed in a suit of fabulous silver armor polished to a blinding sheen and filigreed with twining black vines and tiny blue forget-me-nots. The commons realized in the same instant as Ned that the blue of the flowers came from sapphires; a gasp went up from a thousand throats. Across the boy’s shoulders his cloak hung heavy. It was woven of forget-me-nots, real ones, hundreds of fresh blooms sewn to a heavy woolen cape.

“His courser was as slim as her rider, a beautiful grey mare, built for speed. Ser Gregor’s huge stallion trumpeted as he caught her scent. The boy from Highgarden did something with his legs, and his horse pranced sideways, nimble as a dancer. Sansa clutched at his arm. “Father, don’t let Ser Gregor hurt him,” she said. Ned saw she was wearing the rose that Ser Loras had given her yesterday. Jory had told him about that as well.

“These are tourney lances,” he told his daughter. “They make them to splinter on impact, so no one is hurt.” Yet he remembered the dead boy in the cart with his cloak of crescent moons, and the words were raw in his throat.

(...) Gregor Clegane killed the horse with a single blow of such ferocity that it half severed the animal’s neck. Cheers turned to shrieks in a heartbeat. The stallion went to its knees, screaming as it died. By then Gregor was striding down the lists toward Ser Loras Tyrell, his bloody sword clutched in his fist. “Stop him!” Ned shouted, but his words were lost in the roar. Everyone else was yelling as well, and Sansa was crying.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard VII

This similarity could be nothing of course, but I can't help myself finding Sansa in everything I read, like it happened with Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac.

Also Count Vronsky's mare Frou-Frou, somehow reminds me of Lady.

#sansa stark #grrm #anna karenina #leo tolstoy

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house-of-galathynius · 4 years

Text

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

Prologue ~ Chapter Two

Chapter One: Meeting

Summer had always been Aelin’s favourite time of the year. It was the soft breezes and the long days, the late nights. It was the time of year where she didn’t have to be a princess. There was no need for the formalities or the pretending.

Summer was the season of freedom.

And when she had woken up that morning, the sun was still low in the sky, the mist dancing between the trees and the bird song was mellowed, quieter somehow. She had known that summer was over; her Fae senses could feel the shift of the season. Summer giving way to the crispness of autumn. And despite the peacefulness and beauty of autumn, it was also her least favourite time of the year.

Court would begin again. Gone would be the long nights of stargazing, the lazy days lounging in the sun with a book or the trips to the Staghorns; now was the time for her royal duties to start once again.

A gentle tap of the door had Aelin groaning and shifting in bed.

“Your Highness? Your father would like to know if you will be eating breakfast with them this morning.” Her maid Elspeth was one of the good ones. She was in her late forties and had been with Aelin for her entire twenty years. She was a short woman, her hair starting to grey at the roots, her cheeks always rosy and plump. But Aelin loved her like a mother.

Elspeth slid into the room and closed the door behind her, she strode over to the towering windows which looked out over the forest beyond the castle. The thick curtains were opened to reveal a grey morning. Elspeth didn’t wait for a response from Aelin as she continued her way around the room to the balcony on the far side. She opened the doors and Fleetfoot, Aelin’s beloved dog perked up and trotted off to the fresh air.

Elspeth was well versed in the ways of Aelin. Which is why her final task was to perch on the edge of her bed and pull the covers back.

“Aelin, you have guests arriving today.”

She shot up in bed, staring at Elspeth. She had forgotten about the guests. If she had, she definitely would have been up earlier. She said as much.

“The Queen of Doranelle, Sellene Whitethorn is arriving with her family.”

Of course. There had been turmoil in Doranelle for many years and finally, only a few months ago, they had decided on a new queen. It had been a surprise to her Uncle Orlon when it had been announced, but nonetheless, had extended an invitation to visit once the new queen had settled into her new role. Just as the offer would be extended to me one day- when I became queen.

“I suppose I cannot get away with my usual attire today?” She said. Elspeth laughed and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. A dress will be required.”

Elspeth had picked a simple yet regal gown in a deep Terrasen green. Elspeth tried and failed to get Aelin to braid her hair, or at least put it into a simple updo. But Aelin enjoyed her hair free, the long blonde locks were one of her favourite assets, and never understood the need to hide it.

She surveyed herself in the mirror, despite her late night with Sam, she looked awake and bright eyed. Ready for a day of acting like a princess.

When Aelin arrived into the breakfast room, her father and mother were already seated, Orlon too. She took up the seat beside her mother and smiled apologetically to the three of them. Tardiness was one of her weaknesses and had frustrated all of them to no end. But with the night she had just had… if only her parents knew.

“Late night again, Aelin?” Orlon grinned. He had always been privy to Aelin’s whereabouts, where she would sneak off to, who she would meet.

Sam was not royal, in fact, he held no title in Terrasen. He had moved when he had been sixteen years old; escaping the grips of an assassin in Rifthold. He had stowed away on a ship, not knowing where it was going, but hoping that anywhere was better than before. He arrived in Terrasen with a few coins and his wits about him. He’d managed to secure work at a library. The owner had been old and frail, unable to lift the books, unable to do much at all. Sam had taken it upon himself to help in any way he could. And six years later he was the proud owner. It’s where Aelin had met him. Since then, she had been sneaking off to see Sam every chance she could; the only person knowing being Orlon.

She knew it could never be more than it was with Sam, a reason why she had been so quick to shut down his offer the night before. And despite Terrasen being a forward-thinking country— the King was married to a man for Gods sake— they still drew the line at commoners and royalty marrying, or even being involved, the only exception being a mating bond; something so rare and final that no King or God could argue with it. So she tried to enjoy the stolen moments she had with Sam. Avoiding the advances of any foreign royalty that may come her way. The King only allowing it on the condition that when a serious offer of marriage arose, Aelin would accept and take her place as the next heir to the throne. She loved Sam, and on occasion had been angry at the impossibility of it being anything other than what it was now.

There was the other problem of her immortal lifespan. Sam was human and at some point it would have to end anyway.

“Did you forget about the arrival of the Whitethorns today?” Her father asked.

“It may have slipped my mind.” An easy lie. She took a bite of the pastry in front of her, savouring the sweetness. “But I am here now, and ready to be the perfect princess.” Another bite.

Her mother chuckled to herself, sipping on the herbal tea that she would drink every morning without fail. Orlon cleared his throat, giving her a look.

“The queen is new to this Aelin. We must ensure she is welcomed and feels comfortable during her stay.”

A roll of her eyes. “I think I can manage being nice for a few days.”

“Weeks.”

She stopped mid-chew.

“The Whitethorns will be here for at least three weeks. Their castle is under renovations, so we offered them a place to stay whilst they were underway.”

She had never heard of such a thing. A new queen, leaving her territory for weeks?

“Darling, you are not expected to entertain them alone, nor be present at every minute.” Her mother had always been the diffuser; ensuring the conversations remained civil, if not for her sanity, for the sake of Aelin’s temper that had resulted in a few fires. “But the sneaking off will have to stop. Lysandra will understand.” Lysandra being Aelin’s excuse for when she was actually sneaking off to see Sam.

She smiled politely and confirmed that she would be well behaved for when the guests arrived.

And that was that.

She finished breakfast quickly and excused herself before they could make her stay longer. Aelin made her way to the training ground just beyond the walls of the garden. Orlon had had it built when it was evident Aelin needed a place to train with her powers. Fire magic was a rare gift, one that hadn’t been in the royal family since Brannon. She was grateful for the space, even if she no longer needed to train to the same extent. Only meeting with her trainer once every month.

“I thought I might find you here.” Lysandra’s voice echoed across the stones. “Hiding?” Lysandra laughed.

“Something like that.”

Lysandra was silent as she perched on the stone bench, watching as Aelin made shields of flame, as she danced the fire through her fingers and flung her powers towards the wall.

“I won’t be available for a while Lys. The Queen of Doranelle and her family are arriving today.” Aelin held the flame in her palm. “I need you to send a message to Sam for me.”

Lysandra had been the daughter of one of her mothers maids. And when her mother had died, Aelin’s mother could not stand the thought of Lysandra going to an orphanage. So she had housed Lysandra and trained her as a lady-in-waiting for Aelin. And even though they hated each other as children, the older they got the more they understood the other.

“I heard one of the Whitethorn princes is extremely handsome. Do you think he’d be interested?” Aelin snorted. Any person would be insane not to be attracted to Lysandra.

“Gods help the poor male if you pursue him.” Aelin returned to her flame.

“We all know that you’re going to marry me one day.”

They both whirled at the sound of the male voice at the archway. Aedion stood there in all his glory. He wore a midnight blue jacket and dark pants, clothes for important people, Aelin thought. It was envy that Aelin was feeling. Aedion may be a prince, but he would never be King; marrying Lysandra would never be a problem, if she ever agreed, that was.

Lysandra rolled her eyes and flipped her hair to the side. “Aedion, we both know you can’t handle me.”

“We’ll see, Lysandra.” Mischief glittering in his eyes.

Aedion took his wandering eyes away from Lysandra and back to Aelin, who had already lost interest in their banter.

“What do you want Aedion? Aelin and I were busy.”

“I’m here to tell Aelin that the Whitethorns will be here any moment, and her father wishes for her to be in the great hall to welcome them.”

No peace. Summer was well and truly over then. Her flame flickered out and she brushed down her dress that was lightly coated in dust. She shook out her hair and let it fall past her shoulders, running her fingers through it to release any tangles.

“How do I look?”

“Like your father is going to kill you when he see’s the mess on your clothes.” Aedion held his arm out, she linked hers through it and smiled back at Lysandra who was brushing her own dress down.

“I’ll see you later Aelin.” A smile. “Always a pleasure, Aedion.” And then she was gone.

Aelin and Aedion strolled down the path that led back into the gardens and then into the tall white palace of Orynth. The guards bowed their heads as she passed, the only acknowledgement that they would give. They continued into the palace, the halls empty of people.

“Did they have to put out so many flowers? I feel like I’m just going to sneeze the entire time.” Aedion laughed, but didn’t respond as they approached the doors to the great hall.

The room was only ever used for special occasions, I suppose a new queen included that. The room was large, taking up an entire wing of the castle, it’s ceiling tall, gold chandeliers dropping from it. The walls were painted white, with green and gold accents dotted around— the colours of Terrasen. The room was magnificent, every inch dripping in wealth and splendour.

When she entered she dropped into a low curtsey. Orlon was sat atop the Antler Throne, his eyes fixed on her and Aedion— who was also bowing low. Her father and mother were sat on two smaller seats to Orlon’s left. A second, smaller throne rested next to Orlon’s; for the consort of the king. Which was unusually empty; Orlon’s husband usually filling the spot.

As soon as she was in her place and everyone else were in their correct spots the guard at the end of the hall announced the arrival of the first Whitethorn family members. Aelin knew this formality all too well— get the lesser family members out of the way first, and then announce the most important. So she dropped her eyes and fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. She kept her eyes averted as the guard listed off the names of lesser royals and their spouses. A pinch on her shoulder made her look up, she spun to berate Aedion for being an ass, when the guard started to speak once more.

“Your majesty, I would like to present Rowan Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle and Endymion Whitethorn, Prince of Doranelle.”

The two males stepped through the open doors and she met the eyes of the shorter male. He was handsome, of course; and she smiled politely at him, wishing this would go faster. He smiled back, lowering his head slightly before doing the same to Aedion. Aelin tore her eyes away and looked at the second male stood next to him. Her breath caught in her throat as she beheld what was in front of her.

It took him a moment to look toward her, and when their eyes met she felt every hair on her body stand up. His pine green eyes met her own and it was like the world was falling around her. She swallowed and forced herself to breathe, her body heating.

The male in front of her seemed to be doing the same thing. His breathing turned shallow and he couldn’t tear his eyes from hers.

It was like everything around her was spinning or maybe she was falling, Orlon’s voice faded to the background, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart.

As she stared into the eyes of her mate.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #throne of glass fanfiction #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #tower of dawn #sarah j maas #sjm #sjmaas #only you rowaelin

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