#and i'm sparing most of yall from my obsession

[reneesbooks]

the final daily lacuna snippet

buckle up bitches time for chapter 11, the princess. it’s the last one and I’m not about to spoil the WHOLE thing but I’ll give yall a long one.

Keelan stumbles out of the alley and sits on the curb with his head between his knees. His breathing is too fast, something that Annie the bartender has a fancy word for, but he definitely can't be bothered to remember it now. His fingertips tingle and go numb, his head spinning.

It had to have been Birdie. It couldn't have been anyone else. She was older, a young woman and not the child she had been when he saw her last, when he tucked her into her bed with a promise to keep her safe. She survived and grew up and returned, but not to her home.

He's failing at convincing himself that there is a single good reason for her to be with the two most wanted criminals in the city. They'd clearly known her, trusted that she would protect them. She is alive. She is on friendly terms with at least one mass murderer and a serial thief.

He can still hear her tripled voice— "when thieves steal for honor" —he can still feel her hanging off one of his arms.

Levi hadn't killed her—he'd managed to hide her from Maura for years. Why? What had he told her, taught her?

She hadn't recognized him at all. Maybe Levi used memory spells to erase him. Maybe he erased more than that.

"Sir?" One of his soldiers is standing next to him, expression nervous. "Our team completed another sweep of the—"

"Get away from me," Keelan forces out through gritted teeth, "or I swear to Leyna I will gut you like a fish."

The soldier is gone in an instant.

Birdie had disappeared in an instant, in the blink of an eye the way Levi had all those years ago. What else had he taught her?

He is on his feet, walking towards the castle.

Levi had always been obsessed with Birdie's visions, and the prophecy. The one that supposedly predicts Maura's death. And now Birdie is in hiding with thieves somewhere in Morbhard, alive but not coming to tell her sister that. He is not a scholar, but he can connect those dots himself.

He's reached the castle gates. The guard is sending someone out to meet him—he drew the short straw, by Keelan's guess, since he is pale and sweaty when he reaches Keelan. "Captain O’Leyne. You are still banned from—"

"I'm not on castle grounds, so you can spare me the speech." His feet are firmly planted on the cobblestoned road. "I have to speak with the queen immediately."

"Queen Maura—"

Keelan's hand closes around the knife in his belt and the guard quickly backtracks, looking distinctly like he's going to throw up. "Her Majesty has ordered us to turn you away if you come to speak with her."

Keelan grinds his teeth. "Then bring her a message from me."

"Sir Keelan—Captain O'Leyne, I really can't—"

"This is too important for you to get in my way," Keelan hisses, taking a step towards the cowering guard. "You'll deliver a message to the queen for me. You'll tell her that I saw..." He hesitates, suddenly acutely aware of the people walking by, the nearby market, the gutter children collecting pieces of gossip for men like him and Jack. "Tell her I saw the duckling. She'll know what it means."

"Captain O'Leyne." The guard's gaze is fixed somewhere over Keelan's shoulder. "If I disobey orders—"

"If you do not deliver this message, I will be the least of you worries," Keelan says, getting up in the guard's face now. "This is of immediate and utmost importance. It concerns the queen's safety. If you fail to deliver this message, or even if you fail to tell the queen that you saw me, she will find out. I suspect she'll be very angry." He reaches up to scratch the skin under his dead eye. "Do you know what she does when she's angry?"

He sees a small wet spot appear on the guard's trousers. If he was still in charge of the royal guard, he would kill the man for a coward. The guard tells him to wait and he watches him sprint up the front path through the bars of the gate.

Keelan's gaze lifts to the castle towers. He wonders where Maura is, what she's doing. Will the guard interrupt a session of the court? Likely not, there aren't enough liveried servants loitering outside the gates. Perhaps she'll be in the library, studying her spells and curses. She never liked to be interrupted when she was in the library. He wonders if the same guard will even come back.

One of his soldiers finds him after a while and gives him an update on the search for the thieves. Unsurprisingly, they've vanished without a trace. Keelan considers telling him about Birdie, but he doesn't want to do it before telling Maura.

Would she read his memories to see if it was really her?

He sends away the guard with instructions to continue the search and double their efforts and men in the lakeside district.

The coward is returning. The wet spot on his trousers is just a bit larger. Keelan doesn't dare walk forward onto castle grounds until he knows what the man is going to say. He reaches Keelan and clears his throat. "The queen has lifted your banishment." Weight lifts from Keelan's chest that he can't believe he has been living with. "She awaits you in the throne room. I am to escort you—"

"I know the way."

He brushes past the guard and goes home.

The hedges are overgrown, long branches reaching out onto the path at random intervals. There is no one to open the doors for him, and the hinges groan when he pushes through. A few maids scurry through the corridors, but there are no others to stop and gawk as the Knight of Lacuna Lake returns home. His footsteps echo up into the vaulted ceilings, where dusty chandeliers hang half-lit as if someone had pulled them up before they were ready.

The throne room doors swing open easily at his touch.

Maura is sitting alone, her head resting on one hand as she watches him approach. Her favorite green dress hangs off her ribs a bit, as if she'd done the lacing herself. There are deep, dark circles under her eyes and lines around her mouth hardened by years of sorrow and rage. Half the chandeliers are lit and she hasn't raised most of the curtains, bathing the room in shadow.

Her eyes dart to the door behind him. He stops at the base of the steps up to her throne. Her gaze returns to him and she clears her throat. "The guard was meant to escort you."

Keelan takes a deep breath. "He's a coward. I would have him killed for it."

The corner of her mouth twitches. "You've risked much to return here, Sir Keelan."

He kneels. "My queen. I had to tell you immediately. I saw...I saw something in the market."

"Yes." He looks up to see her knuckles whiten on the arms of the throne. "The guard said something about a duckling."

"It's her." He can't stay on his knees, can't hold himself back. He is on his feet and halfway up the stairs, his hands itching to reach for her. "I—I don't know how, but it's Birdie. Those eyes..." He's caught in Maura's silver gaze, tears welling up in those same eyes. "I could never mistake those eyes."

He doesn't think he knows how to read her anymore, but he does recognize the way her fingers touch the empty space on her left hand. "Do you...what kind...what was she doing? Who was she with?"

He blinks. "I...I don't know where to start." He hesitates a step from the top. "Do you..." He puts one finger to his temple. "Aren't you going to...?"

Her face falls a bit, different emotions flashing across. "No. Not—I swore I would never..." She grips her left finger. "Not without..." A shaky inhale, her eyes unreadable. "Not unless you want me to."

He thinks of the servants and others that he's watched her curse over the years. The golden light that pours out of their faces. "Does it...does it hurt?"

Maura looks away. "I don't actually know."

He thinks of how her healing spells taste of sweet pea. He remembers the warmth of the golden light that comforted him in the Black Cell. He takes the final step up to her throne. "You can read my mind, if you...you can do it."

"Only if you want." Her eyes burn through him. "Never again unless you want me to."

He inhales sharply, the scars on his chest burning. "I...I want you to."

She rises to her feet and his nose is filled with her perfume. She is so close and his hands are begging to hold her, but instead he stands stock still as she lifts trembling hands to his face. "If it...if it hurts, I'll stop."

He nods and she presses her fingers to his temples.

Golden light fills his vision.

He is eight years old, standing at the front of the chapel in Leyne, evening light shining through the stained-glass windows.

He feels it more than he hears it—Maura's voice, somewhere in the back of his head.

Too far back.

He is fourteen, sword in his hand as he walks away from his burning house, bloody feet leaving footprints in the dust.

It's almost like a nudge, Maura's presence in his head. She sifts through his memories like the pages of a book, searching for the right moment.

She finds him in the market, hearing the squire announce the opening in the city guard. He looks up from his groceries and sees her in her green dress, standing across the crowded square.

He sees her as he leaves the burning flat on Amber Road, sees her as he walks into the city guard headquarters, he sees her standing behind Jack in the lakeside market.

There.

He watches it happen again, sees Birdie appear and disappear in slow motion. The edges are faded, but Birdie is clear as day. Her eyes burn through him, even just as a memory.

Maura steps away from him, her eyes wide. "You think she's here to kill me."

"I don't." He looks away. "I don't know."

"You were right." She presses her fingers to her forehead, sitting heavily in her throne again. "You're right, Levi was always obsessed with the prophecy. He'll have raised her for that very purpose."

"Maybe it's something else."

Her mouth quirks. "Maybe Lacuna Lake isn't bottomless."

The quirk fades and she sinks into thought, her nose scrunching as she stares at the royal seal in the stonework. Keelan puts a shaking finger to his temple, trying to see if there is any warmth left over.

“When you read someone's mind...” he says slowly, and Maura's eyes flick to him with more than a little anxiety.

“It's less like reading and more like watching,” she says cautiously.

He thinks of her standing in the background of his memories, her silver eyes piercing through him. “You could see what I was thinking after I saw Birdie...is that normal? To see what they thought?”

She hums, tracing patterns idly on the arm of her throne. “I get more of a sense of what the person was feeling in the moment. Sometimes thoughts pass through, if they were particularly important in the moment.”

He stares down at her, her words registering slowly. “So you can feel what they felt?”

Her eyes are guarded. “Yes, wh—”

He grabs her hands and presses them to his temples, meeting her eyes fiercely. “Read my memories. Every one that you can find.”

“What are—”

“I never lied to you,” he says, and her eyes fill with tears. “I would never lie to you. I want you to know that. I need you to know that. Read my memories, every single one that you are in, and know that I never lied. I loved you the day I saw you and I have loved you every day since. Send me away again, cut out my other eye, I will crawl back blind and begging. I will always love you, Maura. No matter what.”

She tries to pull her hands away but he holds them firmly, her fingers pressed to his temples. “Keys, please.”

“I will ask nothing more of you,” he says quietly. “You said you wouldn't do it unless I wanted you to. I am begging you to. If you only feel an ounce of the love I have for you, it would be enough. I need you to know that I never lied.”

She inhales shakily, and he lets go of her hands. She doesn't lower them from his temples, but her thumb touches the corner of his dead eye. “I don't...I don't know if I can...”

“Please, Maura,” he whispers. “Please.”

The golden light fills his vision again. He is standing in the throne room for the first time, his eyes caught on the golden princess in her throne. He is sitting in the gardens, his sword forgotten in the grass as her laughter chases away the ghosts. He is seventeen, spinning around her in the ballroom as she laughs and he falls harder and harder. He is in the Black Cell, grasping her golden light as his only salvation. He is next to her in the theater, holding her hand in the safety of the royal box as she rests her head on his shoulder. He is holding her against him in the throne room, feeling her fluttering heartbeat through his shirt. He is standing before her with his knife in his hands and his blood on his face but he is only thinking if this is enough, if this will make her believe him, if he has finally broken the last remaining piece of light in his life. He is exhausted at his desk, marking up a city map in the hopes that he'll find the thief and go home soon. He is standing before her again, his heart breaking as he sees the pain she is in. He is in love.

She yanks away from him like he burned her, her eyes welling up with tears. She won't meet his gaze, hers fixed firmly on her hands instead. She sinks back into her throne.

“I never lied,” he murmurs, reaching to catch her hand. She doesn't shake him off, just slips her fingers into his, and it gives him the courage to keep going. “I...I don't know what I did wrong, Maura, but I never stopped loving you.”

She inhales shakily, her gaze darting up to his missing eye. “You didn't...I need to tell you some things.”

dw abt what those things are. lacuna taglist: @serenanymph @lyssa-ink @oh-no-another-idea @lena-rambles @ashen-crest @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @serpentarii @allianaavelinjackson

[julystorms]

Your opinion on SNK and Pokémon?

My opinion on ______!

Attack on Titan: I guess if I’m being really honest, my initial reaction was to reply with the marching-band-spells-out-BAD image but then I was like, man that isn’t fair. This pure and good anon sent me this message in Good Faith™. I should be honest but also fair--and balanced! Really I think my opinion of SnK boils down to:

It had a lot of potential to be a really interesting series: gritty without resorting to sweeping pieces off a chess board. Unfortunately the potential was lost--not early on and all at once, but in increments. I feel like the series lost a lot of what it had going for it when things and issues started adding up. I’ve noticed a lot of fans have lost interest in the series and have moved onto greener pastures. Their favorites died...and while many people might screech bias at fans for leaving a series when their favorite dies, I think the issue is deeper than that when whole subsets of people leave. Like, as much as I like to poke fun at some of the fans of SnK, it’s pretty clear to me that for a GREAT MANY OF THEM, the only thing getting them to tune into monthly updates was, no surprise here!, their favorite character(s).

Because honestly, the characters are what holds the series together. The characters are what most people come for and it’s definitely what the majority stay for. And without that connection to the story, the readers tend to, well, to put it as kindly as I am able on this fine Thursday afternoon: they drop away like flies.

I won’t deny that the series has its good points. There are things about SnK I really like. But like a large number of the initial wave of fans, I came for the characters and I stayed for the characters, and now it’s just vague trainwreck curiosity and spite that gets me to tune in for each new update. Other than the occasional meta update/post/art reblog, I probably won’t manage to be super active in this fandom again.

Then again, that could be a lie. Season Two will be hitting us almost before we know it, in which case... I’ll tune in to watch a bunch of my favorites die horribly (and hope that the Rooftop Scene is spun shippier and that there’s extra hilow because UM WHY NOT amiRITE?). Also Gelgar. And Lynne. God if they take away my favorite moments with those two I’mma be livid. Gimme my garbage ship I mostly just made up PLEASE.

Pokémon: I’ve been a fan from the beginning. I stopped watching the anime sometime during Johto. I think I was an adult by that point in the series and I had work, and getting up early to catch new episodes just...was not going to happen. When I was older and had more time on my hands, the show had already ditched Misty and I was like...nah, forget it. I don’t need this anime if Misty isn’t in it. She was, admittedly, my favorite character, so...like with everything else: without my fave I was outta there. Truth be told, I wish the anime would just end.

Pokémon Generations was pretty good, and I enjoyed seeing some quality episodes. (Gimme all the Looker episodes gimmegimmegimme.) It was a nice change of pace. I honestly wish they were just a bit longer--like 10min episodes or something. An excellent idea to have a series more based on game canon.

The games, well, I own most of the games, even though I’ve only beaten Red/Silver/Stadium/Stadium2/PuzzleLeague/X/Sun. It was hard for me to get engaged in anything that came out after Silver; I think...things like natures, hidden stats, items: they all served to make me feel pretty meh about bothering with them. And the story was never very good IMO so it was like...why bother? X’s graphics upgrade piqued my interest, and it was well worth the price I paid for it. I even got into breeding! Sun was even better game/plot-wise. I enjoyed it way more than X (though I admit I haven’t been playing it much lately). 

My only real gripe with the world of Pokémon is how sloppy the entire concept/world is. I’m usually pretty willing to handwave shit but sometimes I’m just frustrated with how fast and loose they play. I don’t consider myself an edgelord but holy shit is it hard putting realism into this series. The pokémon themselves are basically magical fantasy elements so you have to sorta...handwave some things. But then you start asking questions about how the centers are funded and how do traveling trainers even live and things fall apart pretty quickly. The advantage is that you can make shit up and nobody will bat an eyelash. And I guess I’m all about that.

Plus I’m eyeballs deep in this fandom so...