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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

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Draw your swords, pt.9

Summary: Darkling’s secrets are soon to be unveiled, just in time for a trip to the Fold.

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight

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The Darkling walked with a spring in his step. Residents of Little Palace have gotten used to his skulking in black keftas he wore like second skin. Never before had they seen him smile as much as he did on this particular day – as if he found the secret to happiness.

In truth, the Darkling refused to let himself hope for much. He simply hoped she’d allow him to kiss her now without receiving a death threat for it. It felt incredibly dangerous how foolishly addicted he is to his fickle wife. He never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her.

“General”, Fedyor joined him on his right, while Ivan silently took his left side. They both kept a reasonable distance from Kirigan, two steps behind at all times.

“What reason did you have to knock on my door this morning?” Kirigan’s voice is leveled, but his words are a death trap. There’s nothing more the general hates than his Grisha interrupting his private time – regardless if Y/N is with him or not. Unless there’s a burning issue at hand, he disliked being bothered unnecessarily.

“We’ve intercepted a few interesting stories you might like”, Ivan responds calmly, unafraid of his temperamental general. After all the years they’ve known each other, Ivan could read Kirigan’s mood easily. Despite his discontent, Kirigan is chipper for the first time in a long time. In fact, Ivan can’t even remember the last time his general was this happy...or happy at all.

“What kind?” Darkling asked, but his attention was undeniably divided as he caught sight of Y/N.

She walked across the hallway with a purpose – determined to raise hell and he found it incredibly sexy. She paused for a moment, her gaze meeting his briefly. When she pursed her lips, his twitched at the corners – a smile starting to form.

“Sun Summoner kind”, Fedyor spoke in a hushed voice.

Kirigan’s smile falters, his eyes leaving Y/N’s. “Follow me”, he barked on order before walking in the opposite direction.

All his life, the Darkling had been searching for the Sun Summoner. Every whisper of their existence turned out to be nothing but a fabrication, but something felt different now.

Once inside the map room, he leaned with his palms on the table. Kirigan didn’t say anything for a moment or ask for more information, but then his mouth moved on their own accord.

“Is it true?”

Glancing at each other, Ivan and Fedyor silently argued who should deliver the news.

“I asked you a question”, the general growled out, looking at them over his shoulder and the intensity of his glare had erased his earlier happiness.

“Nothing is confirmed yet, but we have quite a lot of accounts from the people surrounding the forest.” Ivan replied.

The Darkling made a sort of a grunting noise that Ivan didn’t know what to make of. The shadows covered the windows swiftly, engulfing the room in darkness as his left eye narrowed ever so slightly.

“The forest?”

Fedyor clears his throat, “Near the border.”

“Near the fold”, Ivan adds.

“I want”, he paused. Running his fingers through his hair, his shadows killed every source of outside light. “We need to prepare for a trip to the armies stationed at the fold.”

Nodding, Ivan looked to Fedyor and his deep-set frown.

“Are we to cross?” Fedyor asks.

The Darkling’s face is stone, his eyes unblinking. “Would it be a problem for you?”

Breath caught in his throat, Fedyor’s heart started to race. “No.”

“Good”, Kirigan remarked. “Prepare everything for departure in no more than a week.”

Sending them off, the Darkling sat in his chair. He wants so many things. His fingers graze his chin as he sighs – there would be no leaving without Y/N following. It’s not in her nature to do nothing and if she learns of the reasons behind his departure, he might lose her. The path of less resistance is to convince her the trip is to prove he’s honored his promise to her. He had sent the instructions yesterday and while she did force his hand on it, he didn’t hate her for it. If he’s bound for hell, at least it’s not a false one. She hates him, but she’s honest with him. He appreciated that.

Finding the Sun Summoner will change everything – for once, he will have a partner who can understand the weight of his past choices. He regrets too many things he’s done, but he was rarely given a choice. They broke the wrong parts of him, in the end, he showed them what happens when they laid a hand on those he cares for. That included Y/N now. If anything, she was a priority. Y/N is the only one he has left in this world.

While the Darkling pondered on the possibility of a Sun Summoner being true, Y/N sat in the library with a pile of books at each side.

The lingering effect of Aleksander’s gaze upon her and his devilish smirk had warmed her up in a way she least expected. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if time stopped or her heart did.

Shaking her head, she flipped the page in frustration. Her skin still burned bright from where he touched her. No amount of bathing can erase the fact she belonged to him now.

Swallowing thickly, she groaned. In all the books she had found, barely few had any information on the shadow summoner. Aside from Morozova creatures that serve as amplifiers, Y/N found mere mentions of a black heretic and the creation of the fold.

Her neck hurt, her eyes felt like they’re being pierced with needles and there was no saving her mind from all the theories she concocted. Leaning back in her chair, she huffed. Rubbing her eyes, she slammed the book closed before standing in frustration.

She didn’t want to love Aleksander, to risk her heart and life. She didn’t want to lay in bed, always afraid of what he might do if one day she’s not careful enough and he learns the truth. Naively, she hoped he’d either stand with her or just walk away but that’s not the Kirigan she knows. He wouldn’t forgive, it’s not in his nature.

Placing the books where she can find them in the morning, she headed to her room. Genya was kind enough to send a servant with lunch, but Y/N missed dinner entirely. Engrossed in books all day, she hardly felt any hunger.

At least not the kind of hunger food could satisfy.

Walking into the room, she hadn’t expected to find Aleksander sat at the bottom of their bed….shirtless.

Standing, he narrowed his eyes at her. “You weren’t at dinner.”

She raised a brow, “Wasn’t hungry.”

Kirigan crossed his arms over his bare chest, the movement making the muscles in his stomach flicker.

“Get dressed”, she quipped.

He smiled, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a mirror in every corner of this Palace, since you love yourself so much.”

He laughed wholeheartedly as she just turned away, clamping a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t let herself laugh with him. Every moment like this feels like the world is spinning, making her resolution fragile. She’s aching to let him in, but it would be a mistake. She feels it in his bones, he’s not honest with her.

Caring for a man like him is dangerous, like standing in the eye of a hurricane.

“We’ll leave Little Palace in a week”, Aleksander speaks, “Just as you asked of me.”

She stares at him, disbelief and joy colliding. And it’s the look in his eyes, the hopeful, terrified look in those dark skies that disarms her.

“Why do I feel like there’s a catch?”

Running the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, Aleksander takes a step closer. “You’ll ride with me.”

Pursing her lips, she nods without ever breaking eye contact. “And?”

A breathless chuckle passes his lips, “You’ll have to wear a special kefta. One that won’t let you get hurt easily.”

Taking a deep breath, she tilts her head up, “And?”

Suppressing a smile, he raises an eyebrow. “You’ll be equipped with a weapon of choice. I believe you’re more than familiar with guns as a soldier of the First army.”

Raising both eyebrows in response, she takes a step closer to him. “Swords”, she notes.

Humming, his eyes widen ever so slightly as he waits for her to continue.

“I prefer swords”, she touched his face gently with the back of her hand.

“Of course”, he breathes out. A soft smile spreads across his lips, “Draw your swords if you see an enemy in sight.”

“Even if it’s my husband?” Her lips remain parted, her eyes flickering to his chest where she raised her hand to.

“I don’t care, as long as you keep yourself safe.”

She held her breath as his words resonated with her mind. How can he be so callous one day and then offer up his life for her to take. No game had ever made her question every single word that left someone’s lips before. Sometimes she’d look at him and see through the mask he shows the world and other times she couldn’t see anything other than her own reflection in his eyes as if his soul didn’t exist at all.

“Since when do you care?” She frowns, gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

Letting out a heavy sigh, his eyes flicker to the hand she splayed against his bare chest. Just the simple touch of her hand made him want more. It was becoming too hard to pretend he hates her. What he truly hates is how human she is – what is he supposed to do when her hair turns grey and he’s still young? How will he survive when someone takes her to exact vengeance against him? Will he be too late to save her then?

When your world comes to a stop and the value of life is amplified by those dead before their time in gruesome ways, it feels like an earthquake shakes the very foundations life is built on. But when the walls start falling, past and future no longer exist, only the moment you’re in and the first person that comes to mind when those walls are gone is what your life is all about. For Aleksander, that person is Y/N.

Looking into her eyes, his hands cup her face, “Since I had to spend five days believing you’re dead.”

He wanted to wrap Y/N in his arms and tell her he would never let her walk away, not after he had a taste of what it means to be with her. He wanted to tell her his love is unconditional and that his soul is hers, even if she didn’t want to give him hers. He would wait, as patiently and as stubbornly as he did by now and that she will never lose him because even if he wished, he can’t scrub his heart clean of her. And he never wanted to.

“I thought you’d protect me?” She raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

She had become his heart, his reason to live. She lit a fire within, something he had lost over time and while she’s completely unaware of it, if the world tried to take her from him, the Darkling would wage war to make sure she remains by his side.

Blinking slow, a faint smile upon his lips, the Darkling tilts his head slightly to the left. “Would you allow it?”

There is nothing in the world he wanted more than to kiss her again, but this time around Aleksander decided to let her make the move. She is tender, but fierce. To understand a woman like her, one must realize that the former is who she is and the latter is what life demanded of her.

“Not likely”, she remarks and he throws his head back, chuckling.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she wets her lips in thought and he can’t help but think this is a well-designed trap for him to say the wrong thing and for her to use it as excuse to put distance between them rather than face her own desires and he was almost certain those desires included him.

“You want me”, he whispers in her ear as his fingertips slide up her spine and to the back of her neck, “And it’s killing you.”

“Physical attraction means nothing”, her voice is low, but unwavering.

Aleksander bites the inside of his lower lip in anticipation of her pushing him away and storming off, but even as he waits, he feels her hips press closer to him as if she’s telling him he won’t be left alone. Not again.

“Yet you’re here”, he grins. Tucking her hair behind her left ear, he admired how firm she stands in her opposition.

“So are you”, she quipped,.

A cocky smile appears on his lips, tiny wrinkles forming around his dark eyes as he holds her gaze bravely, unwavering even when her gaze becomes a glare.

Biting her lower lip, contemplating the right move, Y/N could hardly fight her desire for him. Her head knew he it would be unwise, but her heart screamed at her to kiss him and those butterflies in her stomach felt more like killer bees as the need to feel him inside her had taken over every rational thought she generated.

One hand caressing his lean cheek, she gave into her primal instincts as she slammed her lips against his and Aleksander’s own heart leapt inside his chest.

Their need for each other was urgent. Y/N grabbed a handful of flesh and muscle on Aleksander’s back. He gasped and laughed throatily at her haste. When her hands clawed at him again, he grasped both hands in one of his and held them over her head. She struggled to free herself, but he was too strong. When he entered her, she gasped, then moved her hips up to meet his.

He released her hands and she pulled him closer and closer to her. They made love quickly, almost harshly, before they found the sweet release they longed for. Aleksander collapsed on top of her, their bodies still joined as one when their minds gave in, slowly drifting to sleep.

Just like the previous morning, he remained in the bed, his arms wrapped around her tightly.

She barely saw him during the day as the week progressed, but their nights were spent together – entangled mess of limbs, desperate moans and needy pleas neither held back. She’d close her eyes in his embrace and begin her day the same way.

“You don’t have much time”, Genya warned as Y/N dressed in haste. She decided to dress for the trip, it was the only way she could fit in a few hours in the library.

“I won’t be long”, she smiled at her friend.

Licking her lips, Genya took her by the hand. “What is it that you’re looking for?”

Y/N clenched her teeth, wondering if she should tell Genya. Something inside her warned against it – she didn’t tell anyone his name is Aleksander, feeling privileged to know such information. If she’s wrong and she can trust him, she didn’t want to poison anyone else with her doubt beforehand. A single book remained unread on her pile of very thick books she went through.

“Just trying to learn”, Y/N shrugged.

Nodding, Genya smiles, “In case we don’t see each other before you leave, I have to implore you to reconsider David as an ally.”

“I will”, Y/N promised and she would. Someone in Aleksander’s inner circle could be of use to her.

Going through the pages, she felt exhausted. Spending all her time in ancient books didn’t seem to be of use, but for once the text made sense. It spoke of the black heretic and the many names he’s been called in history.

“He walks the earth with a power only the saints could possess. They call him The Black Heretic, The Shadow King, The Starless Saint, Staski, Eryk, Leonid – numerous names that he exchanged for each lifetime he was given and by now it must be at least a few hundred lifetimes of darkness. His name – true name was lost throughout the centuries, occasionally heard as a whisper carried in the wind.”

Wide eyed, she read through the text of a scholar who described the Black Heretic and his powers, his entire lineage being his mother who remained unnamed and…him.

“He has no descendants?” Y/N’s lips quiver. If he has no descendants and his line begins and ends with him, how would Aleksander even exist?

Unless…

No.

It would be impossible, would it not?

“Numerous names that he exchanged for each lifetime he was given”, she reads aloud only to cover her own mouth in face of a startling epiphany. It was as she noticed the dark connection between the great mystery, the horrific realization set in.

“Pardon me, miss, but General Kirigan has sent for you”, a servant frightened her.

Taking the book in haste, Y/N stood on her shaky legs. Mouth dry, she pressed her lips in a thin line.

“Thank you”, she walked out so quickly, barely containing her quick and shallow breaths. Sweating profusely, she felt as if the black kefta she wore weighed down on her like battle armor.

Was it not her armor? Was this not a constant war she’s struggled with?

Aleksander…Kirigan…The Darkling…who is he?

“Are you ready?” Aleksander is waiting by the door with a small smile on his lips. His hand is opened for her to take, but she ignores it. If she took his hand, he’d feel the shakiness she’s trying so hard to steady.

Mounting his black stallion, she tucked the book safely inside her inner pocket.

“I’ll take the reins”, she informed him as he took his place behind her.

She heard him scoff, “I’m the general.”

Is Aleksander even his real name?

Are the stories about him true?

“On this side of the fold, so am I”, she gripped the reins and the stallion obeyed.

Riding a horse always helped her clear her mind, but this time it seemed impossible.

When she married Kirigan, she believed she would marry an old, unattractive man…As it turns out, she got the old part right.

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A/N - I’m not quite happy with this chapter, but I wanted to post today to keep my streak going. Also, i suck at writing a summary, like WHY IS THAT?! xD It’s Eid, so I’m tired and sleepy, forgive my grammar and prepare for things to heat up in the next chapters. Thank you all for sticking with the story and all the feedback, it honestly gives me life and will to keep writing. I also finally found the books in my native tongue, at least the Grisha trilogy and Six of crows duology and I’m really excited to dive into it and further my understanding of Darkling as a brilliantly written villain that is a multi-dimensional being with, let’s be honest, actually good points. I may not be happy about his willingness to commit mass murder, but I kinda see where he’s coming from and I really can’t wait to know more about the situation as it is in the books.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06 @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer @olympiacosplay @pansysgirlfriend @extrakyloren @daybleedsintonightfa11 @thoughts-and-funnies @weirdowithnobeardo @folkloresworld

PART 10

#the darkling x reader #the darkling fanfiction #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #shadown and bone

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gloriousxdarkness · 3 years

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S1: E7 “Stick” Part One

For an episode in which Elektra doesn’t appear and hasn’t even been mentioned in the show yet, this one is not only incredibly relevant to her, but a gold mine for her psychology.

Everything Stick says and does with Matt has been said and done to Elektra— only for basically her entire life instead of a couple years (aside from the specific things about blindness, of course). Elektra is her father’s daughter. She echoes his mannerisms/ideology whether consciously or subconsciously, and all his mantras and lessons form the foundational bedrock of who she is. The parallels to her in S2 honestly abound, and I wish I could gif them.

Let’s take a look at a few of these lessons.

Positive Thinking

“First thing you gotta understand is nobody feels sorry for you and nobody ever will.”

This idea of no sympathy repeats in 2x05 - Matt says Elektra doesn’t have to feel sorry for him, and she says she doesn’t. Bad things happen to everyone. Elektra also doesn’t ever seek out pity for herself, whine about her circumstances, or try to pass off the blame for who she is on someone else. This has less to do with not actually feeling sympathetic (she does say she’s sorry about his dad passing, & tries to help Matt get vengeance for that) and more just about a life philosophy. It’s a choice to refuse to engage with pity.

She can even dip into the opposite— self-villainizing when she doesn’t wholly deserve it. This means she will not always accurately communicate the bad shit that’s happened to her and how she feels about it, because she’s been taught not to complain, to only try to see the silver lining.

“You know what they call stuff like that? Gifts. The special kind. The kind that very few people have or deserve.”

Elektra WORD FOR WORD repeats this at the end of Season 2, and Matt finishes her sentence. They both internalized so much of what Stick taught them. The difference is Matt was only with him for a couple years and he matured without Stick. Matt calls it “fortune cookie wisdom” / bullshit and Elektra has never thought about it like that. She hasn’t questioned these things that have been facts her whole life. She’s rarely doubted Stick or questioned him out loud (not to mention his policy of ‘ask questions / get hit’)— in fact, she’s only done so after being influenced by Matt to consider things from a different perspective.

This philosophy of counting your blessings is a method of positive thinking, though. It’s helpful to consider your strengths and have self-reliance. No wallowing here. May not help process your feelings, but it’s not inherently a bad point of view.

Noble Goals / The War

“To save you and everyone in the Kitchen from a horrible death.”

I’ll talk about this later when it’s more relevant, but just to state from the beginning that Elektra views her job as an operative of the Chaste to be one that makes her a warrior on the right side of history, combatting a great evil. Taking on the mantle for a greater good.

“I need a soldier. Committed. Not some bleeding heart idealist hanging onto half measures.”

*gestures* Elektra is this soldier. She’s not a leader in the Chaste, hers is a life of service to the cause.

Control Your Feelings

S: You've got to control that rage. M: You said anger's a weapon. S: Anger is a spark, good. Rage is a wildfire, out of control, therefore useless.

M: The mind controls the body, the body controls our enemies, our enemies control jack shit by the time we're done with them. S: Right. Fighting is just the start. You have to control your feelings, your deep down inside feelings.

This parallels perfectly with Stick training Elektra at the compound. He calls it the fire that burns so hot in her. ( Somehow, Matt’s rage doesn’t make him born inherently Bad, but anyway ). Self-denial. Keep it down, keep it all bottled up. These aren’t lessons in how to let go or how to process your feelings in order to move on from them, which would be actually useful, it’s just about not getting emotional as a soldier.

Combined with not feeling justified in complaining about anything bad that happens to her, this creates a person good at holding her tongue about herself and suppressing her feelings. They exist, she actually feels so much and so strongly, but Elektra sets aside the things she wants. She sacrifices constantly to choose the greater good above herself. Her time, her energy, ultimately her life.

This control doesn’t work 100% of the time, of course, because she’s just a human being with anger, pain, and desires like the rest of us. Under Stick’s philosophy, the only thing worth using is anger. The only acceptable means of expressing that anger is through violence.

No Distractions / No Friends

“Women are a distraction. Just like furniture, apartments... silk sheets. You'd be better off sleeping on real sandpaper than surrounding yourself with all this bullshit.”

Who do we know that keeps a bare-bones apartment she hasn’t lived in for 10 years, and has multiple residencies? No one place to call home?

“Surrounding yourself with soft stuff isn't life, it's death. Someday those silk sheets are gonna crawl up behind you, wrap themselves around your throat and choke you to death. Cut it loose, all of it.”

This may seem contradictory on the surface— Stick telling Matt to reject material comforts to stay focused, and dropping Elektra into the lap of luxury as a kid. But Elektra doesn’t value the material things she has or the status. She doesn’t need them. They are a convenient means to an end, a part of the mask she wears as a fancy person, which is also part of Stick’s molding of her. She grew up in a Spartan compound, after all.

Also, Stick is a utilitarian person. It’s mighty useful for him to have Elektra be part of a relatively powerful, very wealthy political family, isn’t it? There’s cash whenever he needs it. Matt can’t give him that, so it’s not useful to find him a better home. Not to mention Stick’s vested interest in keeping his Black Sky under control (Black Sky lore will be for Part Two).

“Do you have friends? People you care about? Cut 'em loose, for their sake. Break their hearts if you have to, just do it quick. [Or] they will suffer and you will die. Relationships are a luxury men like you and me can't afford.”

Elektra actively views personal connections as weak points her enemies can target. She doesn’t have any friends. We don’t see her talk about her family except to mention Mr. Natchios passing.

Matt was an exception to the rule because she believed they were the same. If he’s a warrior just like her, if he’s involved in the war, then it’s okay for them to be close. It’s even beneficial as a team. But for everybody else, it’s hard for her to justify endangering others for the sake of having pals. This is an incredibly lonely existence, but she believes it’s worth it because she’s a part of something bigger (Noble Goals^).

Stick, as her paternal and only parental figure, is THE most important relationship when it comes to understanding her as a character. He’s her #1 influence and guide for the first 30+ years of life.

#( elektra meta tag. )#( goodbye daredevil rewatch. )#elektra natchios #daredevil #long post for ts;#part two will be about Black Sky lore #& the way they treat that child #( a jealous old man. // STICK )

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lesbiansforboromir · 4 years

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once again you made me deeply emotional over boromir. i don't have the fellowship (much less the english edition) at hand, so i can't even re-read my fav parts with him. any particular boromir-related stuff you may share?

FUCK ok I’ve got a migraine and a passion and I do not know how to use either of them but I’m gonna use this ask to talk about something I’ve been thinking about for months, not kidding on that one.

Galadriel... was the direct cause of Boromir trying to take the ring- HEAR ME OUT.

There are some very important things to remember about Boromir when you’re considering his actions and motives.

- He explicitly came on the quest assuming it would lead them all to Minas Tirith, because that’s where he needed to get back too. It’s very clear, he and Aragorn are literally going because Minas Tirith is on the way to Mordor. And every detour and every delay of the Company amps up his frustration and worry.

- He left Gondor with the certainty that his city would be besieged VERY soon and that they would not be able to break it. His trip to Rivendell is desperation based in it’s entirety, he’s looking for anything that might help.

- He knows absolutely none of these people from adam and whilst he very much wants to trust them, they have yet to win his loyalty or faith in ANY capacity. I’m sorry! I know everyone wants the Fellowship to be that good good found family foundation but it simply isn’t that for Boromir and never has been.

Okay so when they finally leave Moria and Gandalf’s dead, everyone’s grieving and miserable. They are also worried, Gandalf was their guide and as much as Aragorn’s a tracker he doesn’t have Gandalf’s expertise. Then again, Moria had been entirely Gandalf’s decision in the first place, claiming there wouldn’t be many orcs in there at all in an argument he has with Boromir about how dangerous the mines would be in comparison to the Gap of Rohan. Indeed, if Bilbo hadn’t given Frodo the mithril shirt then Frodo would be straight up dead and it would have been Gandalf’s decisions that caused it.

So at this point Boromir’s faith in Aragorn’s ability is pretty low. And no one else in the Fellowship has any interest in leading. Boromir deferred to Aragorn’s judgement because Aragorn’s more knowledgeable of Eriador and also just... a dude who needs to be in control, it’s easy to tell. But now Boromir’s not so sure Aragorn’s up to it, since he seemed to rely on Gandalf so much.

And then Aragorn tells them all they’re going to go through the Golden Wood. Now Boromir knows from the Rohirrim and Gondorian legend that the Golden Wood is Strange And Scary And Dangerous And Men Who Walk in Never Walk Out Again. And he says this, politely. Aragorn tells him he’s foolish for fearing it and essentially that if people got hurt in the Golden Wood then they deserved it. Again, despite the general discourtesy of these comments, Boromir chooses to believe Aragorn’s judgement.

The next thing that happens is they are accosted by Haldir, treated like possible enemies or spies (despite Haldir admitting that Elrond had already told them they were coming) and a day and a lot of dwarfphobia later Haldir is threatening Gimli with death. No I’m not joking, Haldir says there’s a law dwarves can’t come into Lothlorien without a blindfold. And when Gimli gets justifiably angry about this and wants to go back if he’s being treated this way, Haldir says he WILL be killed if he tries to leave. Weapons are drawn! The only reason this de-escalates is because Aragorn suggests they all go blindfold because ‘it is hard on the dwarf to be so singled out’. I cannot express to you how soon this happens after Aragorn assures everyone that Lothlorien is safe. I also cannot emphasise enough how Gimli does absolutely nothing to deserve this, he’s polite and kind as ever until Haldir instigates it.

So again!! Another mark against Aragorn’s reliability! And then we come to the CRUX of the matter, the meeting with Galadriel and Celeborn.

A lot happens here, some of it very funny in terms of Galadriel’s treatment of Celeborn, but the important part is at the end where Galadriel mind-interrogates all the fellowship but Aragorn and Legolas. Again, this isn’t subtext, in-text it says interrogate. And the fellowship discusses it afterwards. Gimli, Sam, Merry and Frodo all agree that ‘Galadriel offered them a choice, to go back home where they would be safe, or to continue on with the quest though there may be far greater perils ahead’.

But that couldn’t have been the choice she gave Boromir. Because he can’t go home to be safe and sound away from the evil!! He lives there!! This has been Boromir’s fight his whole life, it has never BEEN a choice for him. And from this moment on Boromir’s manner changes dramatically. He questions Frodo about what Galadriel asked him, he expresses concern about Galadriel’s motives, he says he believes she was TEMPTING HIM (remember that for later), concerns which are, once again, sharply and cruelly dismissed by Aragorn.

There is then a MONTH of a time skip, we get descriptions of the how the other fellowship spend their time in Lothlorien. Gimli and Legolas become friends. Everyone else grieves Gandalf and has a lovely time in Lothlorien... apparently.

But Boromir has never had any real positive feelings toward Gandalf and did not show any real grief at his loss initially. And whereas the rest of the fellowship seems respectful and awed by Galadriel and Celeborn, Boromir replies to their questions at the end of the fellowship’s stay in Lothlorien with what I would call veiled anger. `As for me,' said Boromir, `my way home lies onward and not back.' Which is a callback to the interrogation, the stark difference between the motivations and priorities of the rest of the Fellowship in comparison to Boromir. Which became VERY obvious to him in that moment. So I would posit that! Boromir did not have a good time at all! Boromir was stuck somewhere he felt unsafe and unwelcome and every extra second they spent in Lothlorien was yet another moment he was away from his currently-at-war home!!!

Anyway just before they leave the fellowship is privately discussing what road they should take when Boromir makes a slip of the tongue, where he’d always been articulate and clear before.

‘But if you wish to destroy the armed might of the Dark Lord, then it is folly to go without force into his domain; and folly to throw away-’ He paused suddenly, as if he had become aware that he was speaking his thoughts aloud. `It would be folly to throw lives away, I mean.'

It is very obvious to Frodo what he actually meant here, and this is where essentially Frodo’s inner monologue lays it all out!

Frodo caught something new and strange in Boromir's glance, and he looked hard at him. Plainly Boromir's thought was different from his final words. It would be folly to throw away: what? The Ring of Power? He had said something like this at the Council, but then he had accepted the correction of Elrond.

The important points in this section are that 1: Boromir has started thinking about the Ring of Power as something usable. 2: He did not think this before now, he had accepted Elrond’s words. This is ‘new and strange’. Something changed here.

And of course it did! Boromir doesn’t trust any of these clowns anymore.

Boromir’s advice, priorities and concerns have been almost entirely ignored and derided throughout the fellowship, even from the very moment he arrived in Rivendell! And after nearly freezing on a mountain, being chased by wargs, dragged through a mine of Orcs, a Balrog, threatened by supposed allies and then mind invaded by some elf he’s told to be in awe of, whatever will he had to trust and stay faithful to Aragorn’s decisions is barely hanging on.

And Galadriel didn’t just invade Boromir’s mind, she was tempting him! He says so himself! And considering the circumstances and how he speaks about it, the only logical conclusion is that she is tempting him with the ring, because Boromir’s shown no sign of conflict or interest in the ring before now. So Galadriel was the one who put that concept into his mind in the first place. It’s Galadriel who initiates Boromir thinking again on whether this was in Gondor’s best interests. And Boromir recognises she’s trying to manipulate him!! Which is fucking heartbreaking!!

'To me it seemed exceedingly strange,' said Boromir. `Maybe it was only a test, and she thought to read our thoughts for her own good purpose; but almost I should have said that she was tempting us, and offering what she pretended to have the power to give.’ (--) `Well, have a care! ' said Boromir. `I do not feel too sure of this Elvish Lady and her purposes.' `Speak no evil of the Lady Galadriel! ' said Aragorn sternly. 'You know not what you say. There is in her and in this land no evil, unless a man bring it hither himself. Then let him beware!’

Do you see?? Do you all see?? Am I making any sense at all?? Well I make sense to ME so lets continue- Here, you see how Aragorn puts all the blame on Boromir again? The twisted knot Boromir is in at this point is unfathomable and EVEN STILL! Boromir resists! For a very long time! This is what I mean when I say any characterisations of Boromir being overemotional or somehow out of control get at me so much, NEVER has a man had so much self discipline in his wholeass life. Boromir’s entire civilisation could be being bulldozed by Minas Morgul at this very moment and yet he takes everything that’s thrown at him without malice and internally continues to desperately hold onto his integrity.

But that’s what’s at stake! His integrity! Because now he’s grappling with what seems like a choice to either keep faith with the fellowship, stay with them and go where they go despite how much his country needs him, or potentially do something drastic in order to bring a the powerful weapon Gondor seems to have ALWAYS been looking for home to finally actually save his people. Because that’s what Galadriel offered him! And whilst he doesn’t trust her, it’s also in his head now as a logical thing to want! He doesn’t trust Elrond either at this point, so why should he believe what he said about the ring! It’s obvious everyone has boundless ulterior motives!!

Oh! Here’s a good place to try and explain my theory of how the ring’s temptation actually works. The Ring can control people one of two ways. The first we see with Frodo and with Boromir, it takes FULL control of their actions for a split second when they are vulnerable. For Frodo it made him put it on on Weathertop. For Boromir it made him attack Frodo. However this effect is exceedingly temporary and the person effected immediately comes back into themselves and recognises that what they did was outside of their control.

The other way is often thought of as this like pervasive constant pull to the ring that effects you even just by being around it, wearing you down etc. But I don’t think that’s what happens. I think, in order for the ring to start exerting real dangerous persistant power over you, you have to know it’s power and logically want it. You have to come to that conception yourself, you have to think about it.

And I have a lot of reasons for this but where it pertains here-!! Boromir is a fine, reliable and solid member of the fellowship RIGHT up until Galadriel’s mind meld. It’s not gradual, he goes from making jokes, carrying Hobbits and fighting Balrogs to BARELY being able to control his speech and biting his nails and staring at Frodo creepily. There is barely any easing into it and it starts with Galadriel!!

And you know what! There’s an even more sinister layer to this because like... WHY was Galadriel doing this mind stuff in the first place? An immediate obvious answer would be to test the fellowship, to make sure everyone was solid enough to carry on, to ensure the folk who continued were focused. But... If that’s the case... and Boromir’s test was the Ring... like... he obviously failed that test right? She was reading his mind! And she does it again before they leave! If we’re to assume that Galadriel’s mind powers are greater than Boromir’s ability to deflect them then... surely she would have known! That this turmoil was in him! And if she KNEW then why didn’t she say anything to anyone? To Aragorn?? But I don’t think yall are ready for that discussion yet tbh and I have to stop typing or I’ll go blind.

TL;DR Boromir didn’t want the Ring until Galadriel tempted him with it and made the idea of it saving Gondor a possibility to him.

#galadriel critical #boromir #erran vs tolkien #UGH that was good to get out even though I am CERTAIN it's incomprehensible #tolkien #lotr #gondor #I've got so much boromir meta built up in me cus I've been too out of it to do any real writing #and so many asks I wanna answer right!!#chats #HHHH #Anonymous

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I have often given Qui-Gon Jinn a hard time because he’s so often used in STAR WARS fandom as a weapon to beat on other characters I love and it makes it difficult to like him, as well as it overshadows who the character himself is. So, to help balance that out some, I wanted to do a set of recs to remind myself–and just share some happiness in!–that I actually do very much like Qui-Gon! He’s a good person who really loved the people around him, he cared very deeply, he had an amazing friendship with Yoda (seriously, that Yoda’s the one he reaches out to when he becomes a Force Ghost, that even after death, Qui-Gon loves his Jedi family, it gives me feelings in my feelings place every single time), and one of my favorite things about Master & Apprentice is that I often got the impression that he knew he was kind of obnoxious sometimes, but he was at peace with it, he was fine with that. That was a straight shot to my heart, I love that dude! So, here have some fics that celebrate that Qui-Gon is actually a really great character. He may not always be the central character, but I remember him being well portrayed in these and they gave me good Qui-Gon feelings! STAR WARS - QUI-GON JINN FIC RECS: ✦ Reprise by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & dooku & mace & cast, time travel, 491.1k wip Ben Kenobi dies aboard the Death Star in the year 0 BBY. He wakes up shortly thereafter in the Jedi temple in the year 41 BBY. Haunted by memories and regret, Ben must forge a new path for himself in the Jedi Order of his youth while navigating the murky waters of time travel. Crafting a better future from bitter experience is hard, but learning to heal is even harder. Major AU. ✦ The Way Back Home by Anakinstopyourpanakin, happygiraffe, obi-wan & qui-gon & bant & tahl, 39.5k wip He had been missing for nearly four years. How could Obi-Wan be alive? It was too good to be true, and simultaneously too horrifying. What had been done to the innocent child who was currently falling asleep against his shoulder, and did his wounds run too deep for Qui-Gon to mend? ✦ When the world gets too heavy put it on my back by nematoda, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 29.8k Obi-Wan is different when it comes to relationships. Not in a bad way, just… different. Studies of platonic love in the life of Obi-Wan Kenobi, exploring the master/padawan relationship with Qui-Gon and eventually with Anakin. ✦ Shadows of the Future by stormqueen873, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cast, 129.3k ObiWan lost the duel on Mustafar, but instead of dying, he finds himself on a ship leaving Tatooine, with his old Master and a familiar young boy. As events begin to unfold, can he stop the future he knows from occuring? ✦ No Galaxy for Good Jedi by Annie_Walker, obi-wan & anakin & padme & qui-gon & dooku & yoda & cast, some obi-wan/satine, sith!qui-gon, 124.8k wip Obi-Wan Kenobi was only a young padawan when he ran away with three-year old Anakin. He had no choice after his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, fell to the Dark Side by Master Dooku’s manipulations. ✦ Masters and Padawans: Three Generations by GirlwithCurls98, qui-gon & obi-wan + obi-wan & anakin + anakin & ahsoka, 24.6k Three generations of incredible bonds. ✦ What Is My Heritage? by Marnie, qui-gon & yoda, 7.7k Qui-Gon, age 13, tries to find a place to belong. ✦ Coming Home by Marnie, qui-gon & yoda & dooku, 18.1k A story telling how Qui-Gon comes to be Dooku’s apprentice. ✦ Trust Me by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 2k A certain Jedi Master is less than pleased about being laid up with the flu. ✦ Triviality and QuiGon by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 4.1k The Council’s infinite cruelty gives Dooku the most brutal of punishments: quality time with the Padawan and his plantlife! ✦ Rainy by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 26.8k wip A seemingly easy mission goes horribly wrong for Padawan Qui and Master Dooku as they struggle to battle an insane adversary, poisons and curses, and an awful lot of rain. ✦ The Luckiest Man Alive + Letting Go by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku & yoda, 7.9k Yoda, Dooku, and a twenty four year old QuiGon go to the small planet of Omartia to pick up a forcesensitive infant. + Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan go to pick up a Force-sensitive child. On the way back, Qui-Gon is faced with the fact that someday very soon, he will have to let Obi-Wan go. ✦ Lineage by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & xanatos & cast, 35.9k AU!Jedi Apprentice. Book I: In which master and apprentice meet for the first time, enjoy a disastrous adventure courtesy of Xanatos DuCrion, and reap the fruits of patience and fortitude. A fanciful retelling of the original. ✦ Lineage II by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 40.9k A year or so has elapsed since the last time we saw our heroes. BOOK 2: In which master and apprentice investigate an evil brainwashing plot, attend a boisterous wedding, and battle the enemy within. ✦ Lineage III by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku & xanatos & bant & cast, 49.4k AU!Jedi Apprentice. Book III: Master and apprentice face an important rite of passage, grapple with a traitorous plot within the Temple’s walls, and discover the limits of obedience and intuition. Appearances by Bant Eerin, Xanatos DuCrion, Yan Dooku, and others. ✦ Lineage IV by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & siri & adi gallia, 39.3k Master and apprentice endure a stint with the Agri-Corps, and find that trouble has a way of coming home to haunt them. Featuring a pile of bantha poodoo, a tentacled carnivorous plant, a desperate escaped convict, and a highly provocative young woman. ✦ Lineage V by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & tahl (& some qui-gon/tahl) & dooku & cast, 50.7k An evil scientist wreaks havoc when she captures Jedi Knight Tahl Uvain for purposes of obscure research; Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan rush to the rescue, only to be embroiled in further trouble; and Master Dooku joins in the hunt with characteristic aplomb. ✦ Lineage VI by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 66.2k Master and apprentice undertake a risky undercover mission to expose conspiracy in a far-flung sector; a comedy of manners abruptly transforms into a nightmare when their cover is blown; and a desperate escape gambit strikes deep at the foundations of trust. ✦ Lineage VII by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & siri & adi gallia & some obi-wan/siri, 74.5k Sent to the aid of their fellow Jedi on a disastrous mission to New Apsolon, master and apprentice contend with brainwashing, genocide, conspiracy, and the perilous realm of the heart. ✦ Lineage VIII by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 83.4k Hard on the heels of the mission to Apsolon, master and apprentice find new troubles - in their own backyard. Jenna Zan Arbor faces prosecution for her crimes; the Jedi grapple with the disastrous realities of corruption and personal loss; Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon undertake perilous and disparate quests. ✦ Lineage IX by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku & cast, 61k A year after parting ways, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon struggle to complete their self-appointed quests for enlightenment and justice. ✦ Lineage X by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku, 49.2k The war-ravaged world Melida-Daan is backdrop to a manhunt, an occult conspiracy, a bitter guerilla conflict, and a test of ultimate loyalties. ✦ Lineage XI by ruth baulding, obi-qan & qui-gon & cast, 56k The disastrous situation on Melida-Daan takes a turn for the worse; the Jedi dispatch a team to capture a dangerous murderer; and Qui-Gon Jinn and his former apprentice face the consequences of their rebellion. Series finale. ✦ Snakefic by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & yoda & cast, 6k It was only the matter of time before the egg hatched. ✦ Strokes of Colored Grey by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon, 9.5k ObiWan has been drawing since he was a small youngling, but only a few people know, including his teacher, Vianro Dleka, and the elderly, trustworthy archivist, KinWan Terius. But what happens when his master discovers his secret? ✦ Pies, Books, and Swords, obi-wan & qui-gon/tahl, 1.2k Qui-Gon Jinn has made quite a good name for himself, as far as holonet cooking shows go. ✦ They Are by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 1.7k This is their moment, their eternity. They think its going to be like this forever. ✦ Strongest Stars by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & chirrut & cast, 2.6k The Force works in mysterious ways. A few quiet moments in the dark create a touchstone spanning across three generations, two orthodoxies, a war, time, space, and the galaxy. A maverick meets a visionary and listens for a song. Spoilers for Rogue One, sort of? ✦ Anecdotally by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 14.6k The biggest stories are always made up of smaller ones. Here are some of the forgotten moments in the life of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Will feature a wide variety of genres, characters, eras, and AUs. Oneshots from whenever inspiration strikes. ✦ the floor under our feet by FoxGlade, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & dooku + background pairings, 4.5k wip or, the adventures and exploits of Qui-Gon’s three adopted children. ✦ A Long, Long Time Ago by ruth baulding, dooku & qui-gon + qui-gon & obi-wan + obi-wan & anakin + anakin & ahsoka, 5.8k A wisdom tale handed passed down through the generations poses troublesome questions for a line of masters and Padawans, from Dooku to Ahsoka Tano. ✦ Family by lilyconrad, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & darth maul & cast, sith!obi-wan, 6.8k Seven years after the duel on Naboo, Obi-Wan Kenobi has turned to the dark, Maul has turned to the light, and young Anakin is caught somewhere in-between. Can Qui-Gon rescue his Padawan before it’s too late? ✦ Fountain of Force by esama, qui-gon & cast, final fantasy 7 crossover, 8.9k In which Qui-Gon Jinn comes from Gaia. ✦ Midwinter Sun by orphan_account, dooku & qui-gon, 4.2k Padawan Jinn is a rebel and Dooku is very much not ready. ✦ Jedi In Winter by bluedragoninamber, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku & yoda, 12.3k In which Yan Dooku understands regret and tries to make things right. Something new will be born from the ashes of the old but exactly what remains to be seen. ✦ A New History by Annie Walker, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & dooku & cast, time travel, 533.4k wip During a heated battle, Dooku escaped into the past! Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker follow to stop him, but discover that Dooku went to the past where Obi-Wan is a young padawan to a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn. Now, the two must go undercover to stop Dooku’s plans from coming to fruition in order to save not only the future, but also young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. ✦ In the Heart of the Force by ReneeoftheStars, ahsoka & qui-gon, 1.7k Ahsoka Tano travels back to the world between world’s. Searching for answers, she comes across a past event that only makes her question the past even more. ✦ Stitches and Time by ladyarcherfan3, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ocs, 4k Alara Nel is a seamstress who keeps getting an unusually large number of orders for Jedi robes from an Obi-Wan Kenobi. Over the years, she learns why and gets to know the Jedi a little bit better. ✦ The Uses of a Sandwich by Laura Kaye (laurakaye), obi-wan & qui-gon & oc & cast, 17.6k A few months after being taken as a Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi faces a challenge: meeting his Master’s first apprentice. ✦ untitled by elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon, 3.1k Anonymous asked: if you’re still accepting prompts: smol padawan obi-wan letting slip his law abiding exterior and letting loose the terrifying intensity beneath it. preferably in defense of qui-gon or something. ✦ The will of the Force by Lysore, obi-wan & yoda & qui-gon, 2.7k Obi-Wan piqued Yoda’s interest early on, except the Grand Master of the Order had known for just as long that the Initiate was destined to be Qui-Gon Jinn’s Padawan. ✦ I thought I fought this war alone by stonefreeak, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 3.7k Obi-Wan is thirteen years old, just about to start learning Ataru from his Master. Obi-Wan is sixty-one years old, dead and one with the Force since four years back. Obi-Wan is both, and neither. ✦ The First Trial by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon, 2k Accompanied by his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, young Obi-Wan Kenobi undergoes his first trial and rite as a Padawan Learner on the frozen planet of Ilum. ✦ Hearts Entwined by KeeperofSeeds, obi-wan & shmi & qui-gon, time travel, 6.5k wip stolen moments between Padawan Kenobi and Shmi Skywalker, glimpsed by Qui Gon Jinn, and his continued attempts to understand both this strange new addition to the Temple and the unexplained relationship between the pair ✦ The Orchards by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.6k When young Obi-Wan Kenobi is injured on a previous mission, Qui-Gon Jinn refuses to accept further off-planet missions until his Padawan’s recovery. Yoda assigns the pair an in-Temple mission of utmost importance while Obi-Wan heals. Master and Padawan welcome the change of pace. ✦ The Path of Totality by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & yoda & qui-gon & cast, 1.8k Before going their separate ways into exile, Obi-Wan Kenobi shares with Yoda a lesson of wisdom he’d learned from his late Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. A lesson of darkness, light, and hope. ✦ Finding Balance by Raven_Knight, qui-gon & dooku & jocasta, 1.4k Eleven-year-old Padawan Jinn is left behind while his Master goes on a mission off-planet. Qui-Gon is left in the care of Jocasta Nu, and he’s not exactly enthusiastic about it. ✦ Warmth by Tomatosoupful, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & xanatos & tahl & shmi & cast, child endangerment, time travel, 59.8k wip Time Travel AU. Anakin has woken up in the past. Time to say hello to past friends, right? Only problem, Anakin is a walking talking human disaster and makes a lot of stupid decisions. Stealing a Jedi baby from the temple certainly isn’t the smartest thing he’s done. ✦ Abducted by devilinthedetails, obi-wan & qui-gon, 1.6k In trying to rescue the kidnapped daughter of a planetary leader, Qui-Gon finds himself abducted and in need of Obi-Wan’s rescue. ✦ Trust Fall by devilinthedetails, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 1.4k Two generations of Masters and Padawans. Two generations of trust falls. ✦ Something Borrowed, Something New by Raven_Knight, qui-gon & dooku/jocasta, 1.6k Qui-Gon Jinn had only been claimed as Knight Dooku’s Padawan for three weeks before he’d managed to get himself into trouble with his Master. ✦ In Memoriam by ruth baulding, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & evan piell, 6.4k In the midst of a desperate escape from the Citadel, Obi Wan mourns a friendship. A tribute to Jedi Master Evan Piell. ✦ One Day by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & mace & shmi & bail/breha & palpatine, 9.9k A single moment in time, on five different planets. A birth, an election, a discovery, a marriage, and a mission. Because all things are mysteriously united in the Force. ✦ They Are by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 1.7k This is their moment, their eternity. They think its going to be like this forever. ✦ The Exchange by MissLearn, obi-wan & anakin & some anakin/padme & ahsoka & qui-gon & rex & cast, time travel, 77k wip ROTS Obi-Wan and Anakin are swapped with their younger, TPM, selves. It changes things, in both parallels. ✦ Family by lilyconrad, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & darth maul & cast, sith!obi-wan, 6.8k Seven years after the duel on Naboo, Obi-Wan Kenobi has turned to the dark, Maul has turned to the light, and young Anakin is caught somewhere in-between. Can Qui-Gon rescue his Padawan before it’s too late? ✦ Fountain of Force by esama, qui-gon & cast, final fantasy 7 crossover, 8.9k In which Qui-Gon Jinn comes from Gaia. ✦ Rewrought by esama, obi-wan & qui-gon & maul, time travel, 4.4k Bit o time travel ✦ Lion Jinn by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cast, 5.7k wip Qui-Gon Jinn reincarnates as a lion. ✦ Brothers (working title) by Charity_Angel, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & padme & shmi & yoda & cast, 17.3k wip In which Qui-Gon has a very near miss on Naboo, Obi-Wan is very stubborn, and they end up breaking a lot of rules accidentally as a result. All because of that kid they picked up on Tatooine. ✦ untitled by legobiwan, yoda & dooku & qui-gon, 1.5k Yan Dooku was getting too old for this type of thing. He had rushed into the healer’s ward, Qui-gon’s limp body in his arms. That in itself had been a feat, as the boy’s gangly limbs were everywhere, but somehow the older Jedi Master had been able to deposit his wayward Padawan on a bed before an errant arm took his nose off. ✦ Drifting Starlight by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 60.3k Just before the fateful Battle of Naboo, Qui-Gon Jinn is brought to the future, to the Clone Wars. He doesn’t know why or how, but he knows one thing for sure: He never, in a million years, expected the galaxy to end up like this. ✦ Although He Smiles by AutumnChild22, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 86.9k wip She’d counted the 750 steps down from the Temple. She’d said her goodbyes, and left Master Anakin standing below the great pillars. What more could the Force want from her? ‘Everything’ sums it up nicely. Waking 13 years in the past, Ahsoka faces a harsh reality. As events begin to unfold, she faces a ticking clock that times a galaxy’s end. ✦ A New History by Annie Walker, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & dooku & cast, time travel, 533.4k wip During a heated battle, Dooku escaped into the past! Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker follow to stop him, but discover that Dooku went to the past where Obi-Wan is a young padawan to a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn. Now, the two must go undercover to stop Dooku’s plans from coming to fruition in order to save not only the future, but also young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. ✦ The First Trial by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon, 2k Accompanied by his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, young Obi-Wan Kenobi undergoes his first trial and rite as a Padawan Learner on the frozen planet of Ilum. ✦ Hearts Entwined by KeeperofSeeds, obi-wan & shmi & qui-gon, time travel, 6.5k wip stolen moments between Padawan Kenobi and Shmi Skywalker, glimpsed by Qui Gon Jinn, and his continued attempts to understand both this strange new addition to the Temple and the unexplained relationship between the pair ✦ Highly Dissatisfied by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon, 1.1k Obi-Wan enters the quarters he shares with his Master, intending to ask for help in preparation for his exams. Qui-Gon, however, is dealing with a far more urgent matter. ✦ playing yourself like a red three by EclipseMidnight (EternalEclipse), obi-wan & xanatos & qui-gon, 7.7k As usual, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s mission has gone spectacularly sideways, this time before they even reach the planet they are meant to be helping. Luckily for them, they get some help from an unexpected source. ✦ so far the suns by blackkat, mace & qui-gon, 1.3k “My old friend,” Qui-Gon tells Mace, quiet, and his presence comes closer. “I fear I made several mistakes in the past weeks, and I would ask you to correct them for me.” ✦ The Cry by batsojopo, obi-wan & qui-gon & xanatos & ocs & cast, 4.2k This is my version of how Obi-Wan Kenobi arrived at the Jedi Temple. ✦ kybersong by Shadaras, obi-wan & qui-gon, 1.6k Obi-Wan Kenobi goes in search of his lightsaber’s crystal heart. ✦ What Have We Become by Batsutousai, feemor & qui-gon & obi-wan & anakin & cast, time travel, 43.7k One of Feemor’s greatest regrets, was that he never had the chance to get to know his brother-padawan, but the Force is willing to give him one more chance. And maybe, if he’s lucky, he can finally make amends with his former master and save them all in the process. ✦ We Start and End With Family by Batsutousai, feemor & qui-gon & obi-wan & yoda & cast, time travel, 8.8k Qui-Gon had been mostly joking when he’d originally brought up the idea of a lineage dinner, but when his former padawan grabbed for the idea with both hands and a desperation Qui-Gon didn’t understand (and privately hoped he never would), he knew he would never be able to refuse. ✦ turning dust right into gold by blackkat, mace/qui-gon & depa & cast, 1.3k Mace knows Depa too well. She’s absolutely going to do something terrible, particularly for Mace’s dignity. ✦ A Price to Be Paid by Peach_Bitters (Starf), qui-gon & dooku & cast, 3.1k Young Qui-Gon learns there’s a price to be paid for his curiosity. ✦ For the Future of the Order by thetorontokid, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.9k There are important lessons to be found in the Jedi Temple crèche.

#qui gon jinn #obi wan kenobi #dooku #yoda #mace windu #xanatos du crion #fic recs #star wars fic recs #long post #really long post

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Witch”

Happy Saturday, everyone! Well, it's perhaps happier provided you didn't watch today’s episode lol. Getting through these 18 minutes felt like watching an extended version of a CinemaSins vid. I heard a little 'ding!' every time something nonsensical, contradictory, or just downright stupid happened. My mind became a pinball machine.

Which, in the interest of being fair as opposed to just snarky, only matters if you're looking for something resembling emotional depth in this show. RWBY, for all its faults, is enjoyable as a mindless spectacle. It's when you expect — or simply hope — for anything more that this very fragile house of cards comes tumbling down.

If it’s not clear already, today’s recap contains copious amounts of salt. Fair warning.

With that disclaimer out of the way, let’s dive in. Episode nine is titled "Witch," which is fitting since many members of our group go toe-to-toe against Salem herself. The narrative issues inherent in having your heroes fighting their final boss years before the series is meant to end might have been avoided if it weren't for Oscar's ridiculous, sacrificial attack... but we'll get to that.

We open with a sweeping shot of the Atlas battle, as hundreds of dead soldiers segue into endless grimm. Hold onto that image for a bit. At the end of this carnage is, of course, the mouth of the whale. We cut to Jaune, Ren, and Yang already safely inside.

"Well," says Yang, "that was harrowing."

I'm on the fence about this choice. On the one hand, yes, it's good that RWBY knows it can skip over extraneous scenes. We have NINE characters to keep track of and develop, fourteen if you count Ozpin, Maria, Winter, Ironwood, and now Whitley. Plus villains. There simply isn't time to show every insignificant moment... but was this insignificant? Obviously finding Oscar and escaping Salem's clutches is the true hurdle of this mission, but that doesn't mean getting through an entire army of grimm is in any way a cake walk. I'd be more willing to ignore this time skip if it weren't likewise presented as such a challenge for Winter's team. They have to "clear a path" to the whale, but our trio got there unscathed and unnoticed? The obvious implication here is that Ren just masked them the whole way — supported by his aura breaking later in the episode — but it still feels like we missed an important chunk of this task.

I'm nit-picking though. As said, I’m straddling the fence on this one and, given that, I'm inclined to settle on a, "Good job, RWBY. You're keeping the writing tight," if only because I don't have much else to praise about this episode. Throw the poor, struggling show a bone lol.

Now that they're inside, they realize they haven't the slightest idea how they'll find Oscar. “Like finding a needle in a giant…whale… why did we think this was a good idea?!” Because you and your friends are idiots who no longer bother to think about a situation before throwing yourself straight into it? This isn't me being mean to Yang, she literally says as much later on. Our heroes no longer get by on intellect, strategy, and skill, but rather plot armor and a staggering number of coincidences. For example, Ren.

Yang: Wow, it sure is lucky for us that on our way to this incredibly dangerous mission Ren inexplicably developed a new part of his semblance. Now he can not only mask peoples' emotions, see the true emotions that someone is feeling, pull thoughts out of their head about what they believe about a situation, but can also track someone across long distances through their emotions alone. Even that doesn't actually help us find Oscar, we just got lucky again when, in this maze of a whale, he ran right into us!

Me: So what were you going to do if this meta-world stopped giving you the most contrived solutions in Remnant history?

Yang: Die gloriously, I guess.

What Yang actually says is, "Okay. That's new!" and they enter the literal belly of the beast wielding a shield of convenience.

Jaune is also being awkward again because remember, RWBY doesn't know when to incorporate humor and when to treat a situation seriously. He reminds Ren not to "drain [himself]," he'll help him, and it's clear the scene is hinting at their earlier fight. There's a lot to unpack there, but I want to save it for the second conversation.

For now, we cut to Oscar, curled up in his cell, repeating stories to comfort himself. Yeah that's fine. I could use a broken heart right before Valentine's Day.

“She brushed off her bumps and bruises, for nothing hurt worse than the loneliness in her chest." It's a line from The Girl Who Fell Through the World, which Ozpin recognizes given that he's "lived through" a fair number of fairy tales. He immediately asks how Oscar is holding up — because he's a caring person! — and Oscar admits that he never understood why the girl of the tale was sad upon reaching home again. Now he does: she wasn't the same person anymore. I don't think the fact that Oscar has had both a metaphorical fall — leaving his farm to 'fall' into this war — and a literal one — falling through Atlas to unlock his magic — is lost on anyone. This is a nice allusion to our themes. Yang's speech to Salem later on? That’s something else entirely.

Storytelling done, Ozpin says he thinks "this plan to divide might have run its course” and it's time to try and find a way to leave. I'm sorry, I love my farm boy, but what plan? He didn't do anything. At least nothing that could remotely be termed an intellectual plot. Oscar convinced Ozpin to try and turn Hazel by telling him the world would end under Salem's rule and the only reason that worked is because the story decided to chuck out Hazel's entire character. You know, the one that hates Ozpin above all others, wants the world remade into a non-Academy horror show, can't understand that people make their own choices, is terrified of Salem, and has no reason to trust a prisoner he's currently torturing. Oscar's "plan" hinged on his writers erasing a great deal of work to build a new story that fits said “plan.” He didn't even get Emerald involved, she just — again, conveniently — eavesdropped outside their door at just the right moment.

To be clear, I'm not against a story being written to work in the hero's favor. Of course things are going to be convenient in a happy-ending tale. Someone manages to hold out just as long as they need to, a sword is lying just within reach, you, yes, happen to run into the one person you're desperate to find. This kind of stuff is reassuring, telling its audiences that sometimes things do work out for the best. It's enjoyable... but only provided the hero's entire success doesn't hinge on fate being shockingly kind to them. That's what RWBY has become. A world where Salem doesn't attack Mantle, Amity Tower is suddenly finished, the group can charge into any deadly situation they want to and bank on destiny twisting around itself to ensure they come out of it safely. A hero finding a convenient weapon nearby to defeat their enemy with is only reassuring after we've seen them implement a brilliant attack, struggle, nearly win, but then suddenly be faced with failure, necessitating that little push from coincidence. They earned it. The hero doesn't get to run in blindly and find a Defeat Bad Guy plot point gift wrapped for them at the first sign of trouble. They just die.

RWBY used to be a better written show because that's precisely Pyrrha's story. She charged a Maiden unprepared, without a single plan or hope for success, and she died. That's what happens in a dangerous, internally consistent world, but RWBY has since lost the second half of that formula.

I'm harping on this because this entire episode is built on that foundation of coincidence, something that shouldn't be happening at all, but especially not when you're pitting the heroes against Salem herself.

So yeah, it just gets worse from here.

Back to Oscar. Without the cane magic is the only weapon they have at their disposal, but he's reluctant to use it because every time he does, they merge more quickly.

They... do?

Okay, there are three major problems with this announcement:

I'm pretty sure we've only seen Oscar use magic once: creating that barrier to survive the fall through Atlas. That was the point of his near death experience, to unlock something that had previously been unavailable to him. Yet if he's only used it once, why is he so sure that it hurries the merge along? What's this "every time" business? This confusion could have easily been avoided if the show had just let Oscar use his magic this volume, tackling some other questions and gaps in the process. Let him use it to fight off the grimm in Mantle, giving him the opportunity to admit to at least Jaune, Ren, and Yang that Ozpin is back. He could have used some magic against the Hound with Ozpin's encouragement, answering the question of why he was entirely silent while the two of them got their ass beat. Give us a moment where Oscar uses his magic against Hazel, nearly escaping in the process, but is captured again at the last moment. Basically, his line makes it sound like magic has been this ongoing resource with an established downside when... it hasn’t.

Coinciding with all of the above, how is it that Oscar can suddenly use magic at will? Yeah, yeah, he unlocked it during the fall, but really? You open up the magic gates and from then on out it's as natural as breathing? This is the same issue with Ruby's silver eyes. The story gives these characters incredible powers, but never has them talking about how they work, let alone training them. They just exist, perfect in execution, as soon as the plot needs them. (See: the final shot of this episode.) At least Weiss had to practice her summoning for multiple volumes.

Finally, the question of how Oscar instinctively knows how to use magic could easily be answered with, "Well, he's kind of Ozpin now," but that would require the story to actually explain what the merge is. "We merge faster," Oscar says, but what does that mean? The Ozpin and Oscar we see in this scene are fundamentally indistinguishable from the Ozpin and Oscar who existed at his aunt's house, four whole years ago. They're still separate people, with one controlling the body and the other existing as a consciousness he can talk to. Nothing has changed. The show keeps insisting that Oscar is going through this deep and painful arc of losing himself to Ozpin... despite the fact that he has yet to lose a single bit of Oscar-ness. Has he changed? Well of course, but anyone going through these experiences is going to change. Remove the "merge" aspect and Oscar's confidence or power up is likewise indistinguishable from any of the other characters' developments. Nora is becoming more of an individual this volume. Ren is becoming more powerful in his semblance. Neither have an Ozpin to force that change, it just happens on its own. So what separates Oscar from every other character going through a formative experience? When is “I’m not the same person anymore” due to unnatural magic vs. just growing up?

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy our boy is getting more screen time — and that the cast is actually being kind to him now — but overall his arc is objectively terrible. He bought some clothes, told Ironwood he was as bad as Salem, told Hazel how to access the Relic, and then asked him not to be a villain anymore. Somehow these things are presented as significant moments of growth while the real questions surrounding his merge go unanswered.

“Honestly, I think you’re doing just fine on your own," Ozpin tells him, but he's not. God knows our boy is trying, but this is a moment where Ozpin's self-hatred (and the story's insistence that the younger generation is intrinsically better than the older) is blinding him to the situation. Oscar has made terrible decisions lately, in as much as he's been able to decide anything at all, and now he's rejecting escaping captivity because he's terrified of a concept he doesn't even understand yet. None of that is fine. Reassurance is one thing, but painting this situation as Oscar making better choices than he would with Ozpin's input is insane. He literally just decided to keep them in Salem's clutches indefinitely because something something magic is scary, I guess. Oscar doesn't need a, 'You're better than me' speech, he needs a reality check so they don't both die. Remember back in Volume 5 when Oscar, a brave but idiotic 14 year old, insisted on fighting someone entirely out of his league and Ozpin was like,

then saved him from getting his head crushed in like a cantaloupe? We need more of that. Our teenage heroes need guidance, but because RWBY keeps insisting that every adult they encounter is corrupt or incompetent, that hasn't happened in three volumes. They're just aloud to decide things like, “Let's tell our captor the Relic's password because UwU ~trust~” and then the story bends over backwards to make that work. Instead we could, you know, let characters learn that they can be wrong.

The snow scene was the beginning, but RWBY really went off the rails the day it let Qrow warn the group against stealing from and attacking an allied city, only for them to call him an idiot for doubting them. Now, Ozpin doesn't even get to warn Oscar about stupid decisions, he just agrees with them, reassuring and passive. Never mind the complication of whether Ozpin is even emotionally capable of providing guidance after they labeled him the worst thing to ever happen to them.

Why does RWBY keep ruining my faves 😔

Anyway, we’ve got to stay on track. Oscar has decided to just lie there but, luckily for him, Hazel's redemption — I use that term so loosely — has begun. He drags Oscar out of his cell before we cut to Winter.

She's leading a portion of Ironwood's army, trying to get things ready for when the bomb arrives. Neon and Flynt are a part of her team, sharing scared glances and trying to remain optimistic. It's a legitimately hard-hitting moment, striking that balance between horror and hope. Funny though, I wonder that RWBYJNOR would think of their friends fighting for evil Ironwood...

Marrow, continuing the tradition of insisting that our heroes be both adults and kids simultaneously, looks sadly at the soldiers heading into battle and goes, "But... they're just kids." I would like to remind everyone reading that Ruby is younger than them. Anyone who thinks that these teenagers shouldn't be fighting grimm — the thing they have been training to do as their professional career, during an unprecedented attack on their home — should not simultaneously be looking to the girl who is two years younger as his savior. (Something that, while not overt yet, is very much where Marrow is heading as he continually doubts the Ace Ops and looks to RWBY's group as his new, moral leaders.) I'm glad that, for once, this perspective is firmly called out. Elm arrives to tell him point blank that he needs to figure out his personal ethics later. It doesn't matter because there's an army of grimm out there and monsters aren't going to spare anyone, adult or child. Quit philosophizing and kill some already.

Back to Hazel where we get the doorway shot from our trailer. He's taken Oscar to the Relic, because of course he has. Do I really need to list how convenient this is too? Apparently, "the moment we move that thing, this place goes on high alert," but there’s no alarm for when Oscar is taken from his cell, they enter the Relic's room, or when they use it. What does a movement alert matter if someone can just waltz in and waste the last question themselves? Put some of those endless grimm in the room to guard it, Salem!

Just assume that I am, at any given point in this episode, letting out the longest sigh my lungs are physically capable of.

Emerald shows up, demonstrating both the convenience of everyone arriving when they need to, and the very real danger that Salem herself could come in and discover what they're up to. Hazel has Oscar summon Jinn, only to immediately say that “Actually, I think all my questions are answered now.”

I'm sorry, how does this answer any of Hazel's questions? His driving question was not, "Is the Relic actually a magical object capable of doing magical things?" but rather "Are you telling me the truth about Salem's plans to summon the Gods and destroy all of Remnant in her quest to finally die, thereby changing who I'm going to support in this war?" Seeing a naked, blue djinn does not answer that question.

Hazel's "redemption" is non-existent. He — we — learned about Salem's death wish despite how that contradicts previous lore, then he trusted Ozpin despite that contradicting his entire character, now he joins the heroes because, literally, he sees Jinn floating there. It’s bad enough that Hazel goes from clear villain to sacrificial hero in a matter of in-world hours, but we don’t even get a reason for why that change occurred.

Oh, there's also this:

So Jinn doesn't come out of her lamp unless someone intends to ask a question, but does it for Ruby because she's special, yet still reiterates that this won't happen again. Then Oscar summons her without intending to ask a question, she comes out anyway, confirms that none of them seek knowledge from her, and happily pops back inside her lamp because eh, it’s whatever.

If RWBY had any courage the three of them would be cursed now for toying with a powerful, magical object. Remember the days when Jinn was a little terrifying because it felt like she was warping her answers and we had no idea what she might do to someone who used her carelessly? When she felt like a djinn? Good times.

Or better times, at least.

So Good Guy Hazel and Good Gal Emerald promise to get Oscar out. Never mind all the horror they caused, the people they killed, and that for Hazel, at least, this defection is coming out of nowhere.

Anyone remember that Emerald orchestrated Penny's death? No? Just me?

As they leave it turns out Neo was camouflaged against the wall, because she was also precisely where she needed to be. Does everyone just periodically pop into the Relic room to see what’s going on? At least this time it's not working in the heroes' favor. Remember when I said it's beyond idiotic for Oscar to just hand out the Relic information to known enemies currently holding him captive and torturing him?

Yeeeeaah.

So Neo's got the Lamp. Funny how all of this could have been avoided if Ruby had just put it in the vault like she came to Atlas to do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We return to our trio where Jaune and Ren need to rest because their aura is giving out. Good! These guys fought a battle, fought Neo, fought more grimm, fought the Hound, traipsed through the tundra, presumably fought through more grimm to get to the whale, and have been using both their semblances to look for Oscar. It's about time their reserves started to falter.

Jaune decides to scout ahead a bit, leaving Yang and Ren to talk about nothing of importance. I mean that seriously. Remember a few days ago when I spoke about how, if the snow conversation does come back up, Ren's points would be entirely ignored for a nonsensical “I’m glad we’re friends” speech? Remember how I also spoke about how every emotional beat now is entirely generic and you could replace any character with another and not a single thing would change? Yeah. This is both those arguments in one. Nothing is said about the points Ren made. His problems with how the group has been acting lately and the very real, very deadly consequences it has had are flat out ignored. We went from

"But these aren't the kinds of decisions we should be making because we have no idea what we're doing!"

"Forward, no matter what!"

in a matter of hours, with precisely zero insight into how Ren went from one perspective to the exact opposite. Kind of like Hazel. Because see, RWBY doesn't write arcs, it just writes one thing until it decides to switch it up for something else, with the opposite idea presented as a “resolution” or a “twist.” Our creators writes scenes they know the fandom is begging for without considering how to get a character to that place, let alone how to get them out of it. That's all Ren's speech was, the equivalent of moral fan service. Here's a glimpse of actual character depth and a morally gray situation... now forget it ever happened because we're back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Instead of working through the laundry list of issues Ren raised, Ren instead accepts Jaune's aura help — something they've been doing since Argus — and tells Yang it's okay to be scared. These moments are meaningless and, as said, could have been between anyone in our cast. Ren could have told Nora she doesn't have to use jokes to cover up that she's scared. Jaune could have reminded Ruby that she can depend on him. Yang could have tried to keep Blake and Weiss' hopes up. This scenes ignores the individuality of the characters, like the fact that they just fought over very different world views, to instead favor any dime-a-dozen moment of support. The number of times this volume has rejected the conflict and resolution the group needs for bland, generic reassurances staggering.

Also, apparently Jaune isn't scared at all? I don't think that's as good a thing as Ren seems to think...

Then Jaune immediately rounds the corner, terrified lol.

One of the seer grimm is on its way and he tells Ren to mask them. Apparently he had been masking them before — one of the reasons he's so tired now, trying to do two things at once — but it's only here that they go black and white again. Ren manages to keep it up for a little while, but his aura breaks before the seer passes and they're spotted.

Hark! A consequence!

That was well done. It makes sense and it adds to the stakes. We've seen the insane amount of fighting the group has done since Volume 7, we just established that they're at their breaking point, and then Ren's aura fails him right when he needs it the most. Add this to the miniscule pile of things that were well done this episode.

Salem runs into Emerald and Hazel, the former of which is acting very suspicious when asked if he's made any headway with Oscar. The seer's alarm interrupts them though and... okay. Was I the only one who cackled during this moment? Between Salem's voice acting and the fact that she just yeets herself down the hallway, it came across as really funny to me.

Either way, it is a bad situation. Our trio is trying to figure out what to do, to which Yang responds, "Do what we do best… charge blindly into danger!!”

Ren's aura is broken. Jaune barely has any left and it’s unlikely he could heal right now even if Ren had any aura to amplify. If Ren takes a single hit anywhere important he is dead.

Me, on my knees, surrounded by the ashes of the Hound, the last bit of serious storytelling we had: "For the love of God, the kingdom is on fire and simultaneously dying of cold. There's a grimm army decimating hundreds outside. Half their group is missing and they're wandering lost inside a devil whale, about to have the most powerful being Remnant has ever known personally try to kill them — can we please have their attitudes reflect that?"

The answer, in case you were wondering, is no.

Back to the bomb. Whatever scientists were given this task have completed it and Marrow watches as it's flown out towards the whale. "Come on, Juan" he whispers and I'm all, "Juan?" Apparently it's a callback to last volume when Marrow couldn't remember Jaune's actual name, but it took me hopping onto the RWBY wiki to remember that.

As death via explosion inches closer, the trio runs into Hazel and Emerald. Turns out though that Hazel is really Oscar, disguised through Emerald's semblance. Nice trick! Jaune immediately drops both weapons to hug Oscar and, while that's nice and all, it's also the stupidest thing he could possible do in enemy territory. Also, Oscar has been beaten up by the Hound, tortured with magic, and likewise beaten bloody by Hazel. I was hoping for a tender hug like the one Nora gave him, not a giant squeeze for more comedy purposes. It just feels like RWBY has no idea how to manage the tone of this volume, let alone the torture of a child...

There's the obligatory, "Why should we trust you?" from Yang regarding Emerald joining the team, to which Ren responds, "Because she's scared, just like us."

That doesn't prove anything. Literally everyone is scared right now. There is a war going on. I really cannot emphasize enough how RWBY throws out Deep™ sounding lines that are, upon inspection, absolutely nonsensical. Nora reminding Penny that there are different parts to her personhood, Hazel saying that all his questions have been answered, Ren announcing that Emerald is scared... it's all worthless chatter that has no bearing on their problems: How do I keep from being hacked? How do I know you're telling the truth? How do we know you're trustworthy after you spent years trying to kill us? But of course, because it's RWBY, Ren's announcement is treated as some sort of secret truth that everyone accepts. Emerald joins up.

As they head for an exit we return to Marrow who, frankly, is getting on my last nerve. I know the fandom loves him because he's clearly leaning towards Team RWBY, but does anyone actually listen to what he says? He starts yelling at Winter for sending in the bomb because the trio might still be alive in there, despite:

Seeing for himself the hundreds of soldiers that have fallen trying to keep Atlas safe

Knowing and hearing again from Winter that the only way to stop this carnage is to take out the whale. Given more time, the whole city falls

Sadly announcing to the world that children shouldn't have to fight in a battle, rather than just joining the fray and helping to keep those kids safe

How does Marrow think those kids are going to be able to stop fighting? How does he think he'll get a city to return to? It's no wonder that he's drawn to Ruby because both characters stand around twiddling their thumbs, mourning that things are bad, and blaming others for imperfect solutions rather than doing something to make the situation better. Marrow's disgust at Winter over the bomb is precisely the same as Ruby's disgust at Ironwood over Mantle: how dare you not have a plan that results in both victory for us and zero sacrifices? They want perfection which, yes, is an admirable trait, but their problem is they refuse to do anything until that perfection appears. They’re paralyzed, a trait that’s particularly dangerous when your story insists that perfection will never appear: it’s not a fairy tale. So they just continue to get mad at others for the fact that they live in an unfair world. You want that perfect solution? Think it up yourself. Otherwise, stand aside and let those coming up with something do what they can to make things better.

Marrow goes so far as to drag Weiss into things, trying to guilt Winter with the knowledge that she'll have to relate the death of her sister's friends back to her. Winter, because she's a badass who isn't in denial over the situation, tells him that yes, she will shoulder that responsibility. To Marrow's credit he backs off then, but man. RWBY has legitimate moral questions here — when is holding out for a few worth risking the many? — but they go about exploring it in the most frustrating way possible. I personally have no respect for the guy who wants to announce that Children In War Is Bad instead of, you know, using the power he currently has to protect those kids already neck deep in a battle.

Because John Mulaney remains relevant:

"There shouldn't be a horse in the hospital :( "

"We're WELL PAST THAT."

Marrow is the one going, "There shouldn't be kids in a war :( We shouldn't have to kill a few to save the whole kingdom :( " and everyone around him is like, "No shit, dude! But this is the hand we were dealt! You going to help us, or what?"

Literally all of these characters could have been so much more than what they currently are.

Except Winter. She's doing great.

Now for the final scene. Our group nearly manages to escape the whale, but is incapacitated by some sort of screechy power that Salem employs.

She contorts her body, stretching out her arms to snag Emerald, and the others have a brief, but intense skirmish. Jaune manages to block a blast of magic aimed at Ren with his shield — nice — and Yang dots Salem's face with a bunch of bombs before blowing her sky-high — double nice. Oscar shoots out some magic of his own because, yeah, I guess he can just do that now? It really feels like it came out of nowhere after eight episodes of being the punching bag.

Of course, Salem immediately reforms. She traps the group with grimm arms that come out of the whale, interrogating Ozpin about why he bothers to keep coming back. There's a very sad answer there of, "I don't," referring to his lack of choice in reincarnating to fight her.

Yang interrupts their little tet-a-tet to throw the question back in Salem's face, calling her out on her choices. A great idea but, as always, execution: "because something bad happened to you once upon a time? No one gets a fairy tale ending."

I’m sorry, but that dialogue had me cringing. Like I said before, way too on the nose. There's keeping with the fairy tale theme, and then there's shoving the viewer's face in it. More of Oscar's musings on how he relates to the protagonists of fairy tales, blurring the lines between storytelling and reality, which in turn encourages the viewer to consider how they see themselves in the RWBY cast. Less... whatever this is.

Yang goes on to talk about how many people Salem has taken from her, which upon reflection makes a certain amount of sense if you toss in all the people who are here, but changed somehow due to Salem's influence, as well as acquaintances who died as a result of her meddling: Raven is scared off, Tai suffers as a result, Pyrrha dies, Penny dies, Yang loses her arm and her school. I think the dialogue could have been revised to reflect that better though because what Yang implies is that Salem has killed countless of her loved ones, yet what she says is, "Summer Rose. My mom." Honestly, for the few seconds this exchange was happening my thoughts weren't even on Summer. Yang calls Salem out for killing loved ones and my brain went, "Pyrrha??"

That's how little they've done with Yang and Summer. I know in the past I've argued that RWBY has a "better late than never" situation going on, that I would praise them for making the right writing choices even if they arrive years too late... but now that we're here, I find that it's a hard problem to overlook. Summer is Yang's mom? When's the last time we heard that? Volume 2? Whenever the conversation with Blake was. Since then Yang has called Raven "Mom," focused on that emotional connection (or lack thereof), was excluded from the conversation with Qrow, comforted Ruby after she was blindsided by Salem's taunt, and otherwise hasn't mentioned Summer at all. There is no foundation for this accusation except a few lines about getting cookies as a child and the fact that we're tossing references in now makes me worried that we'll indeed get a grimm!Summer reveal. Better remind the audience that she exists before the twist arrives! Honestly, as much as a part of me wants to praise RWBY for trying to get things back on track, moments like this just ring hollow now. They waited years and now it’s too late. It doesn't help that this is the episode where we shrug off Ren's speech. What will Yang's cutting admission amount to based on this trend? Probably nothing. Summer will become Yang’s mom again in another six seasons.

Salem, obviously, doesn't care. The real Hazel arrives and she orders him to take Oscar back to his cell. Instead, he gives him his cane with a whispered, "No more Gretchens, boy."

Behold, another meaningless line. Hazel hates Ozpin for "forcing" Gretchen on a mission and "getting" her killed. The whole point of his villainy is that he doesn't understand the concept of choice and that bad things can happen to good people with no one able to prevent it. Not every loss has a responsible party attached (outside of, you know, Salem/the grimm). So what is he even demanding here? No more huntsmen schools? That's what you wanted Salem for. No more "forcing" people to fight for you? Ozpin never did that in the first place. Or is it just a strange promise that no one else will die here? RWBY seems to be under the impression that they can just name drop dead family members — Summer, Gretchen — and that's that. Emotional depth created, never mind a lack of buildup or clarity.

Then Hazel punches Salem across the room and she releases every single hero from their bonds. See the theme of this episode: convenience. Hazel shoves a whole bunch of dust crystals into his shoulders and yells that he's doing what Gretchen would have wanted, clearly sacrificing himself so that the others can escape. The battle between him and Salem is pretty decent. I enjoyed the dust vs. magic creativity and the sheer damage Salem can take before reforming. This fight really showcases how not human she is.

It does, however, bring into question Hazel's reveal about her needing an hour to heal at the longest. I mentioned how unlikely it would be that our heroes would get the chance to "kill" her multiple times, yet here we are, just a few episodes later. They got that opportunity and... does it matter? Salem's reforming doesn't appear to slow down at all, despite her head getting obliterated at least three times, so at what point does she need longer than a few seconds to heal? If this was meant to be a potential weakness the group would eventually exploit, we needed to see it here, both for that setup and to keep it consistent with Hazel's story.

Regardless, they fight and at first it looks like a pretty straight-forward sacrifice on Hazel's part, giving the group their chance to escape. Except... Oscar.

"She'll just come after us," he tells Jaune, turning away from him to fight.

I need a list for this:

Of course she's going to come after you. This is not some shocking revelation. At no point has anyone thought that escaping the whale is the answer to all their problems, it just creates one less problem to deal with. Namely, the problem of "Our ally is captured, being tortured, and may give up important intel to the enemy. Oh, also he's about to be blown up with a bomb." Salem coming after them doesn’t matter. What matters is making her plans as difficult as possible as you work to come up with more solutions of your own. This is just a smaller version of the Ironwood conflict: “Well, Salem will just follow Atlas into the sky so it’s useless to attempt escape, or to buy ourselves time.” It’s really not. I know I’ve used this ridiculous comparison before, but if you’re ever chased by a horror movie serial killer hell-bent on your destruction and your reaction to this problem is, “Why run? He’ll just chase us. The only possible choice is to fight him with a 99% chance of our death,” then I beg you to re-evaluate things.

What was the point of coming to rescue Oscar if he was just going to stay behind? The whale is about to be blown up by a bomb and the trio risked their lives ten times over to get to him. If I were them I would be pissed. We went through all that to get you out and now you’re refusing to leave when we have a chance? Thanks for that.

Same with Hazel. Not that I care about the guy, but if I was sacrificing myself for others to escape I'd be pretty annoyed at them randomly deciding not to do that.

What does Oscar even think he's going to do? Kill the immortal witch? The entire point of our series is that they can’t do that (yet).

However, if he is able to do something significant via Ozpin's magic, why didn't Ozpin do that generations ago? Somehow I don't think a younger Ozma closer to the height of his power was in a worse position to attack Salem than a tortured, aura-less kid who unlocked his magic yesterday. The more RWBY reveals about Salem, the more I go, “Okay, but why didn’t his happen [insert any number of years] ago?”

Did Jaune actually leave? I assume he's just grabbing an airship or something before coming back to drag Oscar away, but seriously where did he go?

There's no way I can approach this scene without throwing up my hands and going, "What? WHY?" Which is a real shame because we finally get to see a bit of what the cane does and it’s... precisely what Ozpin's magic has always done? I mean, we saw that green shield five years ago and now there's a giant white beam. Okay.

If the beam just hits Salem with Generic Magic Power then there was never anything secret about the cane, it’s just, you know, Ozpin’s weapon. If the cane does something significant to hurt her we're left with the question of why it took literal generations to use it. Nothing is making sense to me and the only way I can think to salvage this scene is if Jaune runs back in, snags Oscar like a sack of potatoes, and runs out yelling about how he's clearly suffering from a concussion because what are you trying to accomplish here?

It doesn't help that this moment feels... final. Hazel has managed to hold Salem in place. Oscar has unlocked his cane and lands some mega hit right before Hazel passes out and looses his hold. Not only does this feel like a scene that should be at the end of the volume (we've still got five episodes), but also the end of the series. RWBY is building Salem into an unbeatable enemy by giving her more and more powers, and simultaneously eliminating the stakes by having our currently weakest character (in terms of exhaustion/injuries/aura/training) landing a shot like that. Why would you nerf Salem's threat level like that in the middle of a volume? Especially with a tool our group has had available from the start? If the cane does damage, maybe lead with that in the, “Here’s why we should stay and fight” office conversation.

I assume that Oscar's hit will obliterate Salem to the point where both he and Hazel have time to escape, or he obliterates both of them (“Do it”) and that's somehow presented as a better choice than just running while Salem is captured, or the bomb will interrupt things somehow... but it's just so shoddily done. At the very least, if they were going to have Oscar refuse to let someone fight alone, have it be an actual friend he's staying to assist. Having Oscar refuse his own rescue to help Hazel has more than one problem attached to it. We can say what we want about RWBY's themes of forgiveness, but this guy was torturing him just a few hours ago while serving Remnant's version of the devil. Just let him sacrifice himself and move on.

And that's where we end. Oscar powering up, the cane getting all magic-y, and him shooting a crazy big blast that engulfs both Salem and Hazel. I can't believe how not excited I am about my farm boy doing something badass, but here we are.

Overall I think this episode was way worse than last week's. We absolutely had problems in "Dark," particularly when it came to the Hound and the group's blind devotion to Ruby, but at least those moments were cushioned by an otherwise decent episode. "Witch" felt like I was watching something closer to a parody of RWBY, one deliberately poking fun at the fandom's desires: erase all conflict for awkward silly times, your favorite villains are instantly good now, the heroes go toe-to-toe with the main antagonist because why not, throw a bunch of magic in there for good measure, and wrap it all up in some over the top "this isn't a fairy tale" lines. I can see the pieces of a much better episode here — Emerald sneaking Oscar out with her semblance, Neo snagging the relic, Flint and Neon, Hazel attacking Salem — but it simply didn't come together.

I know I said this last time, but I have no idea what we're going to do for another five episodes. Salem slowly reforming from bomb damage as the group tries to keep Penny from opening the vault? The grimm attack halted with the whale gone so Qrow can go after Ironwood? The longer this volume runs, the more I think it was a mistake for them to introduce Salem as a fightable antagonist now. RWBY doesn't know what to do with her besides have her inevitably fall in the final season, so until then she's left being stupid (Relic), passive (Mantle), or, likely, written out of the story temporarily so the heroes can turn their attention towards smaller conflicts and weaker foes. They literally can’t beat Salem yet, but they can’t focus on other problems when she’s around without coming across as negligent, so if you have to find ways to erase her to make room for that... what was the point of bringing her here in the first place? We could have established that Salem is bound to her realm and had her send the Hound and whale to attack Atlas. There, all the fun parts of the volume without her complicated presence.

Well, the next five weeks will certainly be interesting, at the very least...

Until next time 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby witch #mymetas #rwby recaps

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haliyam · 4 years

Text

interim (ii)

zeke x reader/oc

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 1 | Ch 3

Hi again! I forgot to note in the first chapter that Reader here is 19 years old, while Zeke is 25. (Clearly, before the developments of this story, there was nothing but friendship there.) For the other Warriors, I put Pieck at 19 as well, while Porco is Reiner's age (around 17/18 that year). Marcel would have been the same age as Pieck and Reader in my headcanon. If you're not comfortable with the age difference, I understand.

Also, about university here so you don't get confused this chapter - I lifted the medical school system for Marley from Germany's current system where after a competitive state exam post-high school, students are able to head straight for medical school for a 6-year track followed by specialization.

Reminder that the Reader/OC, default name Lucy, is a cis-female Eldian character with a set background, but please feel free to set the substitution for the Reader to your chosen First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension if you’re reading through the browser! So that would be: Lucy = Your or your character's First Name. Because reader will have a set background, you'll have a set surname as well.

Chapter 2

You don’t even get a moment to breathe. General List launches into a speech about the nerve of other so-called nations almost as soon as you sit down. Apparently, those in the Mid East peninsula have grown considerably bold over the last few months, with several navy ships withdrawing from the port of Ichakar and transferring, presumably, to Qali - which gives them a better angle from which to attack the mainland if they so wish it. They’ve also fortified their borders—ground troops distributed across the land close to Marley’s newly acquired cities—which is of course the sovereign right of those nations, but it’s blasphemy to the regime’s unending ambition.

You wish they had given you a brief with all this information before the meeting, the kind you have seen Willy and father poring over in their office in the past, but you get the feeling that the general is unloading information on you with the intent to overwhelm.

“On the diplomatic front,” he continues with a hint of mockery, because of course he thinks of such things as futile, “they have been making demands. Asking that we keep to our waters when it is they who have encroached upon ours! The audacity—the delineation clearly states—” He continues to ramble until he is red in the face, but your neutral expression must slip into a wide-eyed look at some point, because he regains his composure with a visible wrinkle of his nose. “This arrogance can only mean one thing.”

He stares at you, and you realize he is expecting you to answer. You feel all eyes at the table on you, the Commander’s especially, and clear your throat. “...Weapons research, Sir?”

“Weapons development, Miss Tybur,” he corrects you. “Advanced and more prolific than we may have considered.”

He pauses, and you can’t help but speak. You can tell Magath knows it because he sits up straighter somehow, and in a moment of rebellion, you refuse to recognize the caution in his posture. “With all due respect, Sir, the… armaments race among the other nations is no secret, and on Eldian labor, no less.”

A fist slamming on the desk causes everyone around it to jump in their seats. “It’s what Eldians deserve!” the general next to List says, so naturally that he might have been born saying it. You blink, the heat of embarrassment and indignation crawling up your neck, but it’s only with List’s raised hand that the man remembers that the white band on your left arm is only for show. He glances away. “Present company excluded, of course.”

With the exception of his hand, List continues as though neither of you ever interrupted him. “And now, to the point. We need further information on the status of this little race. That is where you come in, Miss Tybur. You will use your family’s connections to enter the peninsula with our people - the peninsula and beyond, as the exact lay of their operations lies beyond our ken - and retrieve this information.”

It’s one thing to predict a general’s words and another to be confronted with them. You suppose you were still hoping he wouldn’t say it. “General List, are you saying you want a Tybur to be a spy?”

List glances over at Magath. “They were trained for interrogation, weren’t they?” Your old instructor is barely able to nod before the general recalls to you, “Ah, yes, I read the file. You withstood all but the final test. A failure then, but rather more a fluke, in my opinion. An irreplicable circumstance.”

You don’t say anything. You would rather not remember that night. Or that particular moment.

He takes your silence for agreement. “And so I answer, why not? You became a Warrior candidate - unprecedented initiative and involvement by the Tybur family. Why should this be any different?”

“Because—” Because becoming a Warrior isn’t a choice a child makes of their own free will, not really, but a Tybur doesn’t question the decisions of the former head of the family, of father, before all these strangers. No matter that they were loyal to him. You purse your lips. “Sir, I just don’t believe I’m the right person for this.”

“Your file did say you were always hasty, Miss Tybur,” List says, and you both glance at Magath at that. He doesn’t nod, only meets your gazes. He seems as trapped in this as you are, which makes your resentment for him ebb only slightly. “But you should know better now.”

Now you’re getting irritated. The temper that was your closest companion in your early childhood, and then your early adolescence seizes your fist under the table as List continues. “How goes Foundation operations?”

The Tybur Family Foundation. Set up by Walter Tybur when he first became head of the family and operated by the eponymous Tyburs - most often chaired by the spouse of whoever leads it. Your mother first, once, when she cared to, and now Mila. It provides healthcare and educational opportunities for ‘peoples once oppressed by the Eldian Empire,’ as part of continuing reparations for sins the Tybur family did not commit. Or so they say. Many of its employees now are Eldian, part of Willy’s initiative to improve Eldian relations… but in reality it does little when the Foundation is only a grantmaking organization.

“Well enough, Sir.”

“Is that so? From what I hear, the Foundation is unable to set up even offices in several countries in spite of the family’s stellar international relations.”

“And,” you add carefully, “if they ever catch wind of my close involvement with the regime even after all this time, that will not improve.”

“Clearly, Miss Tybur.” His level gaze shifts to patronizing in all the ways you hate. “But say you become more independent. Distance yourself from the military that leads our fine motherland… Say,” he smiles, “that you make overtures of dissatisfaction with Marley’s cruel expansionist policies and express the utmost sympathy for other nations. Perhaps then they will permit you to expand your operations within their borders.”

Your jaw almost drops at the very suggestion. You’ve always thought, since Willy became Lord Tybur, that only the Tyburs have the power to change the direction of Marley. For obvious reasons, not so obvious to the rest of the world, but also for the heritage you represent. If the Tybur family can be good Eldians, why can they not be only one of many good Eldians? Why not introduce the concept that any Eldian can be good, as any other race of people?

“You…” You rein in your reaction even as your imagination sets off in the direction List has set it—and far more. Especially the part where the Tybur family spreads the good name of Eldians throughout the world. No more ‘special’ treatment, no more interment zones…

No more Warriors.

Maybe. If Marley gets what it wants.

You would allow that? was your question. But the answer, you understand suddenly, is that they would allow perhaps the chance of it, in exchange for Marley’s continued expansion using Eldian bodies on the front lines. A slim chance of sparing Eldian lives for the certainty of losing them. You feel lightheaded just considering it. You want to help, but you are the last person who should hold so many lives in her hands.

Your eyes refocus on General List. A pleased smile brims beneath his well-trimmed beard, like he’s already read your mind. But he can’t know—you’ve shared your thoughts with no one but Willy and Lara, who have been as dismissive as they have been receptive. In other words, as though you’re still the child father sent away thirteen years ago they expect will eventually forget all her questions.

“Does Lord Tybur know about this, Sir?” You eye the intelligence officer not far from List.

List clears his throat. “Not as yet. Lord Tybur might be more receptive to such a scheme were his sister to present it to him herself. We are aware that Lady Tybur chairs the Foundation. Her movements are conservative, but she may agree to a more generous, active Foundation on your word.”

Scheme. That’s what it is, but that isn’t what really catches your attention. Willy and Mila, listening to you? You want to burst into laughter, tell them that they have severely misunderstood the dynamics of the Tybur family. But that intelligence officer is here, which makes you think List is lying.

“Why not ask Lady Tybur to head the operation?”

“Lord Tybur would never allow us to risk his wife,” List laughs. The implication of his words is hardly lost on you, but the general tempers his mockery with a compliment. “And we believe a new, younger face for the Foundation - perhaps one our enemies believe to be foolishly idealistic - will better suit it.”

Foolishly idealistic. Like the sort of person who would agree to this plan. Your face doesn’t fall, but your eyes do - toward the table, the way the fingers of each general drum against the wood. Magath’s hands clasp each other, firm as ever. When you look up to List again, you frown.

“Sir, you know that I’ve returned to Liberio to enter the university’s medical program.”

“Yes, yes, we were quite impressed when we learned of your state exam results, Miss Tybur,” List waves, impatient. He’s been relaxed back against his chair, but now that his certainty is dwindling, he leans forward on the table. “But think. Look at the bigger picture. As a physician you may help a man in need one after the other - years and years down the line. Six years at the shortest, and if you mean to be a specialist, how much longer? But with the Foundation’s resources, and with our backing at that, you will aid hundreds, thousands - and the motherland most importantly. Within the year. Half, if we move quickly.”

You bite your lip. You want it and you don’t. The Tyburs must do something, or else we are nothing were your exact words to Willy before. But the idea of retaking your name when you have only just arrived here nauseates you, and assisting the expansion, the destruction, under the guise of aid more so.

“I… would like time to give this some thought, Sir.”

A sigh seems to echo around the room, but it’s only all the men with you and their exasperation. Only Magath is expressionless as List visibly bites his tongue. He gives the commander a glare for good measure, as though it’s his fault you did not agree at once. “Very well,” he says. “But know that prolonging this will only bring harm to the motherland.”

You only nod. Much as you would like to have it, you have no intention of getting the last word here. You avert your gaze from the Commander when you permit the men to leave the room ahead of you.

It seems like the start of a rather miserable day - you’re practically scheduled to overthink all this some time this week, if not this afternoon - when, once the steady march of power has cleared from the hallway, Pieck meets you as you step out of the conference room.

“Boo.”

Your hand flies over your chest, but it’s a chuckle that comes out of you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“So I’ve been told.” She peeks into the room behind you right as you close the doors. “The brass did not look pleased.”

You wince. “I gave them no reason to be. I hate to get the Commander in trouble, but...” You trail off. You both know you can’t say much more.

It’s Pieck’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“...Sorry.”

“That’s all right,” she shrugs. “I came here for lunch, not information.”

You doubt she knows the extent of the Tyburs’ relationship with the regime, but you can always trust Pieck to know not to pry. “You know, I remember now why you’re my favorite Warrior.”

“Oh?” Pieck grins. “Not the Boy Wonder?”

“Boy Wonder,” you repeat, the way the two of you always have when that name comes up - with a snicker and definitely with no one else around. You’ll never understand how the brass can say it with such straight faces. “So how about that meal?”

She pinches at the skin of your elbow through your sleeve. “Changing the subject doesn’t work on me, you know.”

You sigh. “Can we please eat first? I’m miserable enough without an empty stomach.”

“I guess some things don’t change.”

“Hey!” You half-scoff, half-laugh. With a wink, Pieck slips her arm around yours, and you start down the hallway in companionable silence.

Or you would, if you didn’t know that you owe her a little more than that. Reaching over to rest your free hand over the arm linked with yours, you look at her. “I’m sorry, Pieck. I really am.”

Pieck waits a moment, and then meets your gaze. She searches yours for the lie, but she already knows it won’t be there. You always were too candid for your own good. With a squeeze at your hand, she nods. “I know. Tell me all about it after that meal. Your treat, right?”

You blink, and then laugh with shaking relief. “Of course.”

You and Pieck fall back into the easy rapport you’ve shared since you became friends more than a decade ago. Contrary to her words, she doesn’t press you for answers as you decide on where to eat in the zone. For old times’ sake, you agree on the sandwich place two blocks from the Yeagers’, and you end up sharing a meal in your bedroom.

Sitting on your bed together, legs dangling over one edge as you nip at your food, you finally work up the courage to speak through your guilt and explain yourself and the past five years—or most of it. And of course Pieck is understanding, which makes you feel even more pathetic. True to form, she picks that up as well and gracefully changes the subject.

You’re the one who brings it back to what still hangs in the air over you when you’ve finished eating. Nothing personal—but though Marcel was the only one with whom you were ever close friends with, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie were your teammates too. You’d suffered your superiors together during training, and you’d been there for each of their first transformations. For all the experiments too; even their first assault mission.

“What happened?”

Propped up on one elbow, Pieck is lying on her side, legs tucked under her skirt as you set aside your trash. She accepts the glass you hand her from the table, eyes distant. “Zeke hasn’t told you?”

“Zeke won’t look at me unless he absolutely has to. You know how he is.”

Pieck groans. She knows. “He was so irritating after you stopped writing.”

You click your teeth in a wince. “Really?”

“Imagine, Lucy—after you all left, I was stuck with him and Porco. The abandonment issues didn’t just double, they were exponential. Multiply that with the ego and the sarcasm? The Commander was my favorite person those days.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “I am so sorry, Pieck.”

“You should be,” she grumbles, but the remark is softened with a grin. When you grimace, she braces herself with a deep breath.

She tells you everything, or most of it: that the people of Paradis were shocked to find others alive outside of the walls, what Reiner and Bertholdt and Annie went through the past so many years, how the latter were captured—and exactly what happened to Marcel. She saves that one for last, and though you are infinitely more curious about the world behind the coward king’s walls, you reach for her hand again.

“I’m sorry, Pieck.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to make apologies all day, you know.”

“Don’t I?” you grin, embarrassed, teeth gritted even when your feigned mirth starts to droop. The dreamy way she speaks throws others off, but you know Pieck. She’s always been the most pragmatic of the Warriors and so she must feel silly, thinking about what could have been, had Marcel returned. Would a childhood crush have become something more between them if things were different? He had promised his family, and her specifically, that he would come home after saving the world. The thought, the regret for a chance not even yours gone, has a weight settling in your throat too.

You clear it and huff. “Well, it’s a great loss. I think everyone was a little in love with Marcel.”

Pieck glances at you.

“...Except Annie,” you add.

The sudden exemption makes Pieck choke with laughter, with tears not far behind. “Except Annie. Of course.”

You giggle, and both of you pretend not to see each other wiping your own eyes. “You know. Annie was always the toughest among us.” You pause. “Is. She is.” When Pieck’s laughter gives way to somber agreement, you ask, “What about Reiner? What has he said? I know what he’s said, but… two weeks of debriefing… it sounds like a little much.”

“He was there for years,” Pieck shakes her head. “He grew up there, Lucy. He’s… completely different now. Kind of like you.”

“I think that’s giving me a little too much credit.” You haven’t done anything remotely in the way of serving the motherland; not that you begrudge the others that the way you once did. “All I’ve done is see things and get upset. Until I can get my degree, and then until I can get the War Hammer, there’s nothing I can do.”

That’s a lie. There is apparently the Foundation—but the idea of directly assisting the regime in its efforts is something you cannot consider as you are.

“If you do become a doctor, will they let you have the War Hammer?”

You bite your lip. If only for Lara, you’re still bitter about that. “What was it all for otherwise? Though… I guess if I had inherited it then, there’s no way I’d ever be able to come back and see you all except under specific circumstances. Much less be permitted to study.”

Pieck only sighs, reaching for your hand. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. And when I think about it… a part of me is glad Marcel didn’t have to see all of what Marley has done. What we had to do in Paradis—and I only saw a speck.”

You know what the others did, but Zeke and Pieck’s involvement apart from retrieving your old comrades is still vague.

You squeeze her hand reassuringly, but you can’t help it. “What did you have to do?”

“What we’ve always had to,” she answers with a faint smile. Your friends always had tells when they would rather not say more, and this is unmistakably hers. Given your earlier explanation, you understand why. She intertwines your fingers with gratitude at your silence.

“So,” you start after a while, “how about some dessert before I walk you back to HQ?”

“Sure. I might as well treat myself a little before we have to head out to the mountains again.” At your questioning gaze, she says, “Training with the Panzer Unit. That’s what all the paperwork was for.”

“Gross.”

She chuckles. “That’s exactly what Zeke says.”

Your face falls at the mention of him. Relieved as you are with your progress with Pieck, Zeke is an entirely different ball game. You hate that that’s the phrase you even thought of.

“You know what?” Pieck sits up smacks her hands on her lap. “I’ll treat you, too.”

You perk up. “Really?”

“For a price.”

“...What’s that?”

“Talk to Zeke already. If I come back after a month to your gloomy faces still, I’m going to go crazy.”

“It’s only been a day,” you mutter. “And I’ve tried to apologize to him.”

Pieck gives you a knowing look.

“I did,” you insist helplessly, but you both know that’s probably a lie. In Pieck’s case. You know it is absolutely false: when Zeke came upstairs after dish duty, quietly closing the door to his room, you stepped out of yours and stood outside in the hallway, your hand raised to knock on his door. You just couldn’t do it. You can take Porco’s jabs any day, but last night, the thought of Zeke and his silence, or worse, his caustic cheer, sent you scurrying back to your room.

You sigh. “Fine.”

Amused, Pieck gets to her feet for the opportunity to loom akimbo over you. “Good. And if you start to lose heart, try to remember that six-year old who used to glare at Magath like she had nothing to lose. That girl had guts.”

“You mean the half-dead one who wasn’t allowed dinner and got a Warrior class’s worth of cleanup duty alone, whom you specifically told to get over herself if she didn’t want to actually die a few months into training?”

“Exactly. What is Zeke going to do? Tell you to go to your room without dinner?”

Maybe. You sigh. “Sometimes I don’t like it when you’re right.”

Pieck grins. “And when Zeke gets over himself—maybe he’ll tell you about his brother.”

Your shock would be better illustrated in this moment were you sipping a drink you could spit in her face. “His what?”

“Shh. I don’t think he’s told the Yeagers. I think… he only told Magath because I was there when he discovered it. Still,” she says when your eyes remain wide and expectant, “it’s not my place to say. So talk to him.”

Medicine is one of the few fields for which Eldians are permitted to pursue higher education. It’s only logical—there are only a few non-Eldians who care to treat pig-blooded devils, and the efforts of those who do are wasted on said filth. And so the regime allows the admission of more Eldians than often permitted under quotas for other majors, even if the number does remain small regardless.

After parting ways with Pieck, you find yourself standing in line in some administrative building in the University of Liberio in the midday heat of summer. The line stretches outside because this is the queue for Eldian students wishing to confirm their intention to enroll over a month from now. That’s all—you need only submit a form and pay a fee, and the line for non-Eldians students has long finished—but of course the line has barely moved for your kind.

You’re clutching your envelope and your permit to your chest, which you quickly realize is a terrible idea. Sweat is starting to trickle down the nape of your neck, and you start to fan yourself with the envelope. Talking to the other applicants in line is prohibited - you must be spaced far from one another so as not to make noise and distract students who actually deserve to be here.

It’s ridiculous. You can’t even leave the line because saving spots is prohibited. Something about being fair.

The frustration crawls up your neck in the form of prickling heat, and you feel a headache coming. You fan yourself more vigorously, trying to calm down. It takes a minute, but the background buzz eventually starts to soothe you, and you begin to accept that you can simply return to the Yeagers’ and change as soon as this is over. The glares your line receives from passing students and the guards watching you, ensuring none of you causes a ruckus (as if any Eldian would dare), fade under the memory of your childhood. You withstood it before, with Magath and the other drill instructors screaming in your face. You can ignore a few nasty looks.

With that as a frame of reference, the line is even almost... peaceful. The heat is dry, not humid, there’s no mud, no blisters in your feet, no rucksack weighing you down, and no rifle either.

Only the sudden rustle of paper as it slips from your thumb interrupts that peace.

“No!” you gasp, watching your permit flutter closer to a guard with his back turned.

Just then a hand swoops in to save it - its owner bent forward, dark hair falling over his face until he rights himself, permit in hand, and glances around. You sigh in relief when you spot the band around his arm and wave him over.

He jogs over to you, hand already extended with the permit. “Confirming your slot for the medical school?” he asks, brushing away the bangs that fall over his face. He’s got the slightest stubble around his jaw, which he brushes his fingers over when he notices you looking.

You meet his gaze when you notice you’re looking. “Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat. He smiles at once, as if he can tell you’re embarrassed, but he only casts a glance at the line behind and ahead of you. “It was a lot worse during my time. They had us looping around the gate.”

“Ugh, really?”

He nods, but swallows down his grimace to lick his lips. “I’ve… never seen you around the zone before.”

You blink. Smile a little as you glance around the line. “You know everyone in the zone?”

He opens his mouth to respond with a sheepish grin that makes his eyes twinkle when movement behind him catches your peripheral vision. One of the guards watching the line has noticed him and is stomping his way over. Noticing your alarm, he sticks out a hand. “I’m Kellan, by the way.”

“Lucy. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lucy,” he repeats, and you’re barely able to shake his hand when the guard yanks him back.

“Damn pig’s blood—!”

“I’m going, sir. Sorry,” says Kellan, ending the apology with his eyes on you even as he winces from the shorter man’s grip. When he’s eventually released, he ducks away and walks off. He glances over his shoulder to wave, but another guard keeps him moving with a shove.

The shorter one glares at you when he’s gone, and though you remember Pieck’s words, you know this isn’t the time or the place.

“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes to the ground as you turn ahead. Once he’s assured of your submission, he leaves too.

The line takes longer than you expect, but you survive the sweltering heat and submit your form just before the offices close. You hurry back to the zone afterward, dropping by the Galliard bakery to call on Mr. and Mrs. Galliard and offer your condolences. They are shocked but overjoyed to see you, and insist that you take your old favorites when they discover that you’ll be dropping in on Mr. Finger afterward.

You don’t stay long, though Mr. Finger is pleased about your choice of future employment. You feel even guiltier at the unspoken regret in his smile, and beg him not to mention it when he tries to thank you for the support the Tybur family has sent the Fingers over the years—the one thing you think Willy has ever done right.

You return to the Yeagers before dark, early enough to help Mrs. Yeager start with dinner. Dr. Yeager is apologetic as always, but you’re able to change the subject by serving the blueberry pie from the Galliards for a mid-meal dessert of sorts, and the dinner table relaxes soon after. Zeke is absent - he still hasn’t come home from work - so you make sure to leave some for him. This time, Mrs. Yeager allows you to take over cleanup, and the couple retires to their bedroom once the conversation fades into a comfortable silence.

You hope to meet Zeke right as he arrives, corner him into talking to you somehow unless he decides to miss dinner himself, but after half an hour of sitting at the dinner table, cleaning anything you might have missed in the kitchen and the dining room, and rearranging anything out of place in the living room, it starts to look like he won’t be coming anytime soon.

That’s fine, you tell yourself. You feel slimy from being out in the sun all afternoon anyway, and you treat yourself to a relaxing bath. Zeke is still away when you return to your room, and the calming warmth of your evening has you yawning. You have no choice but to change into your pajamas.

In truth, you’re a little relieved. Not that you’re particularly answerable to Pieck anyway, at least not until she finishes training with the Panzer Unit, but it won’t be your fault that you and Zeke weren’t able to talk tonight. But just to feel as though you’ve tried your very best, you keep yourself up by starting to write to Lara—and then regret your principle when you hear heavy footsteps outside and a soft click of the door across yours.

The word you’re writing skitters off to the edge of the paper in your surprise. Your heartbeat invades the tense silence of your room, but you manage to take a deep breath, folding your unfinished letter and slipping it under the paperweight on your desk.

Your door is your next obstacle.

Overlapping images of how Zeke will surely reject you race through your mind alongside the words you wish you could say, and you’re able to keep up with about... none of them. You thought that the words would come to you, and maybe they will, but the moment is about to come and you can’t think of a single word to say.

If you have time to worry, you have time to just get over there and do it, you tell yourself. You shake your head, regretting your own harshness, but also nod as you hastily gulp down the glass of water on your bedside table. Those words in mind, you move, switching one door for another. No longer standing nose-to-panel with your bedroom door, you’re doing it with Zeke’s in the hallway instead.

Hand raised to knock, you eye the light peeking out from the gap beneath the door. Knock. Just knock. The worst he can do is turn you away, and you’ll probably want to wriggle under the dirt and cry, but you’ll at least have tried. You owe it to him to try, like you did with Pieck, and you know you’re braver than this. Or you were, once upon a time.

If you’re still the same girl from years ago, you don’t get to find out just yet.

You hear his footsteps coming from the bathroom too late. No, it’s the heat of another and the familiar scent of his soap which alert you to his presence.

That and his voice, still too deep for the older boy you remember. “Aren’t you a little too old to still be knocking on my door at night?”

“Zeke,” you say, trying to pull your heart down from your throat before you turn and meet his flat expression. He’s in pajamas himself, his hair damp. You must not have heard him head for the bathroom you share down the hall. “Hi.”

That’s more than your mind could summon a while ago, but you still want to smack yourself.

His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath. His jaw shifts even as his pale eyes stare down at you in the dim light, as if deciding what to do with you... and then he sighs. He’s too tired to be glib tonight. “Can I help you, Lucy?”

Your lips purse with trepidation, but you stand your ground. “Can we talk?”

He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Looking down at you is clearly work. “I’m listening.”

You hesitate, trying not to make another face. It seems to come naturally with Zeke around, but you resist the urge, and instead tilt your head to the side. There is no light coming from the master bedroom down the length of the hallway. When you glance back up at Zeke, you give him a pointed look.

Zeke sighs again, and then… decides to just brush past you to grab his doorknob.

Your stomach twists with both disappointment and pique. “Zeke,” you whisper furiously, barely just stomping your foot.

He whips his head to face you, halfway inside already. “What?” he whispers back, like you’re nagging him. Then he rolls his eyes, swinging his door wide open and backing into it to give you room.

“Get in.”

Sorry for the dearth of Zeke moments this chapter, but the next one will mooostly feature him and yes we'll finally find out why Zeke is upset. I used to write very long chapters with fics, but that really exhausted me so I'm trying to write shorter now to keep myself from burning out. But I'm enjoying writing in 2nd person! I never used to do it because it was frowned upon long ago, and possibly still is now? But idc anymore it's fun to try.

Thank you for reading!

#zeke x reader #zeke x oc #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager x oc #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger x oc #aot #snk #aot fic #aot fanfic #haliyam #interim #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #snk fanfic

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cicada-bones · 4 years

Text

The Warrior and the Wildfire

Chapter 2: Foreboding

Im hoping to get a bunch of updates out before i have to get back to school - So here we go! Second chapter already! This one is a little short, but it was the only place that made sense to end it, so I hope you will forgive me.

word count: 2885

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

There was once a male gifted by Hellas. He was born into nothing, was born into dirt and ash and squalor. He ate when he was hungry, took what he wanted, fought, stole, and whored.

Until a queen of darkness found him.

She raised him up from the slums, and turned him into a weapon of war. He gave up everything to serve her, pledged himself to her always. Even loved her.

She scorned him, but the male endured it. For he would lay down his life for her, had already given her his freedom. And what was his dignity by comparison?

The years passed, and time started to become meaningless. Courts rose and fell, warriors grew into power and others’ names were lost to time. The male built a company of soldiers to rival any throughout the land. They suffered loss, betrayal, and battles too numerous to count. But they stood strong through it all.

Until a princess of fire sailed in from across the sea, and stole his brother away.

Now his queen was lost, was blinded by her own desire for power. And for the first time in his long life, the male was unsure of the way.

A choice lay before him, two paths diverged. And time was running short for the decision to be made.

The male closed his eyes, letting his tense shoulders drop.

Both roads were fraught with darkness and difficulty. One would take him across the sea, and label him a betrayer, an oath-breaker. The other would chain him in place, to a throne whose foundation he was worried had already begun to crack. One would take him from his queen forever, but might save her from herself. The other would allow him to stay by her side, but only to watch as her greed slowly destroyed her.

One breath in, one breath out. Slow and even.

Lorcan Salvaterre opened his eyes to examine the golden ring in his palm, those two paths appearing before him, closer than ever.

And he had no more idea of his decision than he had from the beginning.

His feet shifted on the floor, rasping slightly on the stone. The sound was quiet, but it was just enough to cause his queen, asleep across the room, to stir.

Lorcan’s breath caught in his throat.

The moment stretched, twisting and pulling under the pressure. And he knew that his time had come.

But which? Which? Which?

The bedcovers ruffled, a slow sigh escaping his queen’s pink lips. Her face was clear, relaxed. And she was just as beautiful as the first moment he had beheld her. A dark majesty, like black cliffs of stone overlooking the sea, like the violence of dark water tossing itself at their feet.

Lorcan breathed deep, closing the golden ring in his fist.

And he darted from his queen’s chamber, slipping into a run. The fastest of his life.

···

Rowan lifted a spoonful of stew, then let it drip back into the wooden bowl, its soft trickling echoing between his ears.

He had been sitting in the kitchens for what felt like hours, but by the movements of the sun, it couldn’t have been more than a quarter–, or maybe half an hour. If he was being generous. And he was not in a particularly generous mood.

Rowan was exhausted.

Not, in-need-of-a-few-hours-sleep-and-then-he-would-be-fine exhausted. More fall-asleep-standing-up exhausted. Sleep-for-three-days-straight exhausted. And it was only made worse by the fact that he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping well anytime soon.

Today had been a quarry day, and after his morning run, Rowan had spent hours under the baking Wendlyn sun, slowly coaxing rock from the earth. His magic had helped, as with it, he could make blades of ice to cut into the stone, shaping it like clay. It was far quicker, but it was just as exhausting as doing it the normal way, with arms and back and legs.

It had gotten to the point that Rowan was desperately catching minutes of rest here and there, lying awake for hours begging for sleep to come. But the nightmares just wouldn’t leave him be. And both the source of all the trouble and its only antidote was now over a month away. Even if he left that very moment.

He was too tired to even be properly angry with her.

Rowan raised the stew to his lips, swallowing the mouthful somewhat gingerly. It had gone cold. He just sighed, and swallowed another.

It had now been ten days and over two hours since he had last seen Aelin.

Luca rushed into the kitchen, knocking over a chair and causing Rowan to slosh soup all over the wooden table. The boy just grabbed something from the storage area beneath the sinks, and then rushed right out again. Rowan frowned at him.

It took him quite a bit longer than he would’ve ever been willing to admit, but eventually he realized that Emrys, who was scrubbing the stove clean at the other side of the room, was smothering a fit of laughter at his expense. And failing.

Rowan’s frown deepened as he wiped up the mess. Emrys started laughing even louder.

At least the room was nearly empty.

But honestly, he was past caring.

Rowan was patting at his damp shirt when Emrys walked over to him, bearing a washcloth and a fresh bowl of stew, steaming slightly in the light from the open door.

“Here,” he said, already walking back over to the stove. Rowan held in a sigh as he mopped himself up, then gratefully started spooning the warm stew into his mouth.

Rowan and Emrys were the only two people remaining in the kitchen. Now that the rainy season was over, Emrys’ evening storytelling was getting more and more rare. Demi-Fae now spent their evenings out of doors, taking walks through the woods and eating below the stars.

Though he didn’t miss the wet weather, Rowan couldn’t say that he didn’t miss the evenings spent with everyone sprawled in front of the hearth, listening and laughing and crying as Emrys spun his tales. It reminded him of listening to his mother, curled up next to her in bed. The sound of her voice lulling him to sleep.

Something he desperately needed now.

A clatter sounded from the front of the room, startling Rowan from his trance. It was only Emrys, who had now moved on to the dishes, and had dropped a bowl when moving them to their cabinet to be ready for breakfast in the morning.

Once again, the old male didn’t miss Rowan’s reaction. But he didn’t say anything, instead moving to wipe down the counters and tabletops. Another moment passed while Rowan finished his stew, then stood to wash his bowl and put it away with the others.

But Rowan knew Emrys’ silence wasn’t going to last.

And sure enough, just as Rowan put the bowl in the cupboard, the old male spoke up.

“Luca told me he liked training with you the other day.”

The statement was tentative, probing. Rowan didn’t say anything.

Emrys pursed his lips, even as he continued rifling in the store cupboard for some hard-to-reach item. Another breath, then, “He said that you talked about Bas.”

Still, Rowan kept silent.

Emrys sighed. “In the weeks after the battle, Luca…” he trailed off, eyeing the bags of potatoes and onions he was supposed to be counting. “He retreated into himself. He wouldn’t talk to us, to me or Malakai. I know that we aren’t his parents, that we have no right to him. But Luca doesn’t have anyone else. His mortal parents abandoned him, and he never knew his Fae parentage…” he trailed off again.

Rowan found himself nodding to fill the silence. “You care for him,” he said softly. “Anyone could see that.”

Emrys’ eyes met his for a moment, then turned back to the potatoes. “He has become a part of our family. And to have him hide from us in that way…it was hard.”

Rowan nodded again, his brow furrowing as his thoughts began to twist. Where was Emrys going with this?

The male seemed to rally himself. “So I need to know, what happened to Bas? Was – was he really the one who betrayed us to the soldiers?”

Rowan frowned. “Luca didn’t say?”

Emrys scowled. “You weren’t here for those weeks after the battle, you didn’t see. At first, the whole fortress was in chaos, so wrapped up in healing and recovery and relief. And you – you had other things you were paying more attention to.”

Rowan’s face twisted in acknowledgement. He wasn’t sure he’d spent more than five minutes away from Aelin that week.

Emrys continued. “But then, once everything began to calm, Luca went silent. He wouldn’t eat, wasn’t sleeping. Eventually he just came back, like nothing had happened. But it was too delicate. We were afraid to ask him, to push it.”

Rowan nodded. Emrys looked at him expectantly. “What happened to him?”

Rowan steadied himself, then began to explain. By the time he was done, Emrys’ eyes were lined with silver.

“So he killed him?” the male’s voice was soft, heartbroken.

Rowan nodded, and Emrys turned back to the onions and potatoes, cutting off the growths that had sprouted, and tossing away those that looked close to rot. Distracting himself.

“To think, a few months ago I never would’ve thought that I would see you so calm.” Emrys said, almost sardonically. “The state that girl was in this spring – and you two fighting like alley cats. Always at each other’s throats.”

He stood, hauling the discarded vegetables to the compost heap, and moved on to the case of fresher vegetables that had been carted in a few days ago from a nearby farm. “And yet by the end, I thought you two inseparable.”

Rowan averted his gaze just as Emrys glanced up, his eyes sharp. Rowan knew that there was a question there, one that he had no intention of answering.

Emrys voiced it anyways. “And when do you think we will be seeing her again?”

Rowan gritted his teeth. Emrys seemed to sense an uphill battle.

“I – I need to know that she is alright. That she’s going to be alright.”

“No one can know that.”

Emrys frowned. “What will she be facing in Adarlan? Does she seek to confront the king – ”

Rowan cut him off. “Elentiya, has not shared her plans with me. Nor would she have a reason to. I serve another. She is on her own.”

Emrys’ face tightened, but he took it with grace. They were silent for another long moment, or at least until Emrys began tossing sweet peas and lettuce and leeks into a pile, murmuring about old greens and dishonest farmers.

But before Rowan could escape back to his rooms, to see if perhaps he could finally get some rest, Emrys stopped him once again. “In that case, how long do you think you will be with us, Prince?”

Rowan sighed, stalling in the doorway. He’d been avoiding this question too. “I’m not sure.”

Emrys raised his eyebrows. “Won’t your queen be summoning you soon? Now that your training with the girl is done?”

Rowan gritted his teeth. He couldn’t say anything to the old male, no matter how trustworthy he might seem. “Our Queen has ordered me to stay and assist with the repairs around the fortress, and I will stay until she orders me otherwise.”

“And you have no idea when that will be?”

“None.”

“So…” Emrys started, “While you are here…would you consider training Luca?”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to scowl. He should have known that this was where Emrys was heading. And for some reason, the offer set a wave of melancholy though him. Strong enough to take him by surprise.

“I know that the boy is not up to your standard, but when he came back from his run with you yesterday – he was different. Lighter.” When Rowan didn’t say anything, Emrys continued. “You helped him.”

Rowan shook his head, “I didn’t do anything that anybody couldn’t have.”

“Maybe so, but – ” Emrys dusted off his pant legs, making to stand. "You’ve made yourself one of the finest instructors I’ve ever seen come through here. You made that girl into what she is. And Luca was always talking about how much he wanted to go to Doranelle, to escape, and become a great warrior of the land.”

Emrys’ eyes twinkled. Rowan was still shaking his head.

“Just – please consider it. For Luca’s sake.” Emrys threw the remaining vegetable scraps onto the compost heap. “We only want him to be happy.”

“I know, but – ”

“But what, Prince?” Emrys’ eyes seemed to bore into him. “What is keeping you? If you must stay here, might you not be useful, as more than just a workhorse in the quarry?”

Rowan’s breath was tight in this chest. He wanted to say that Luca deserved someone better than him. To say that he would only disappoint, that he could never give the boy what he really wanted. Particularly since he so obviously looked up to Rowan.

But the real reason he was so reticent was because it was exactly what he wanted. In a different time, and in a different place. To settle, and build a home. To rebuild and teach and heal, from a lifetime of hurting.

It was so close.

But there was a massive, impassable cavern between here and there. Because Aelin was not with him. And the world around this fortress was far from peaceful.

War not only threatened, but snapped at their heels. Waiting to strike. Rowan could feel in it his bones. There were far too many storms to weather, and enemies to defeat, before that future could possibly be his.

So Rowan only said, “I will think on it, Emrys. And I will agree to spend time with him in the mornings. But just remember, I have no idea when I might be called away. It could be tomorrow or months from now. I can’t make any promises.”

Emrys nodded. “I didn’t really expect you to, Prince.” And he turned back to the storage cupboards, sealing things up for the night.

Rowan turned to leave, but then paused. “And Emrys – you could see about trying to talk to the boy again. Im not sure – but I think he might this time.”

Emrys gave him a small, but warm, smile. “Thank you, Prince.” And Rowan walked out.

···

Rowan jerked from sleep, his body shuddering uncontrollably. This time, the dream had been different. Had been worse.

Instead of him torturing Aelin, and listening to Lyria’s screaming, he had to watch as Aelin gave up. As she let the grief and pain overwhelm her, and she retreated into that shell of a person she had been when they first met.

Maeve threatened to have Cairn whip him, a punishment he had borne numerous times. Pain that, under the circumstances, he would take gladly. That he would take and be grateful.

But Aelin could not take it.

When Maeve threatened to whip Rowan, Aelin gave in. And she handed over the Wyrdkeys.

And Rowan could only watch as the dark queen laughed and laughed and laughed. And destroyed everything in the world that he loved.

It was knowledge that Rowan kept locked up so tight it could only come out in his dreams. The knowledge that Aelin would hand over the Wyrdkeys for him. It was their greatest weakness, their bond. But Rowan couldn’t see what he could do about it.

They were both weaker, and stronger, together. It was a problem he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to solve.

Rowan breathed, calming his wracked body, then stood up and began pulling on fresh clothes and strapping on his many blades. He shifted, then tore out the window and into the waiting sky.

It had been a few days since his conversation with Emrys, each of them longer than the last. It was like he was walking upstream, fighting against the rushing current. Time flowed around him like molasses, sticky and slow and uncomfortable as all hell. But pass it did.

It had now been nearly two weeks since he had last seen Aelin. It felt like a year.

Each of the past three mornings, Rowan had trained with Luca. Guiding him through the bare bones of his morning routine. Even though it had only been a few days, Rowan could already spot marked improvement in the boy’s endurance and speed. In quiet moments, when laboring around the fortress, Rowan even caught himself planning lessons for the boy. Figuring out what would suit him best.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the sadness that filled him whenever he corrected the boy’s stance, or reminded him to keep his core muscles tense. Nor could he escape the increasing feeling of foreboding whenever he thought about the future.

This tense peace was not going to last much longer, he was sure of it.

And as he shifted his wings to turn back towards Mistward, Rowan’s conviction was all but confirmed.

For wafting towards him on the western wind, was the unmistakable scent of Lorcan Salvaterre.

···

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

···

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#warrior and the wildfire #rowaelin #rowan pov #rpov #rowaelin fanfiction

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suspiciouslypinkrosegarden · 3 years

Text

The Passed Out Princess Chapters 1-2

Pairing: My CMC (Uyu, Dan Byeol) x Suit Saeran

Description: On days 7-9 of Ray’s route, the player is denied food as “Saeran” makes his presence first known. But, what if MC fell very ill under this method of torture due to a medical condition? Sadly, my custom MC, Uyu (full name Dan Byeol), would deal with exactly this dilemma.

Content warning: Descriptions of throwing up, passing out, and meal skipping. Every food related issue mentioned is strictly medical, and based on my own condition.

This was written under the assumption that you have played Ray’s route in full, so route spoilers ahead! This takes place during the very beginning of day 8, and according to the timings and contents of the chat rooms, it would take place before Saeran cuts contact with the RFA and before he installs a camera to monitor MC in her room. It is timed to match closely around to when I’d get sick myself.

My CMC’s condition deals chronic with low blood sugar, meaning she has to eat to keep it up or suffer the consequences as seen here. It is not diabetes related, it is something she is born with as am I and is linked to more complicated matters I left out to keep it simple. Some symptoms include: growing light headed, severe dizziness, nausea, vomiting, and passing out. See all chapters

I wrote this with flexibility for whichever HC for Saeran you follow (DID or BPD), because whether or not he has one of the following, Rika has drilled it in his head that Ray and Saeran are separate entities, and Saeran views it this way. Consider it written the way Cheritz writes him, with nothing exactly too set.

To make things easier for myself, I’m uploading multiple chapters on each post, chapters only separated by lines. Here is 1 and 2

Ping!

The sound of Dan’s phone alerted her to rise and greet the day with a new chat room open.

As the morning sun took its place in the clear blue sky, the little woman sat up in her big bed, bangs sticking out in all directions as her head thumped with a dull pain. Hunger induced pain, she noted, as her stomach felt empty.

Despite the beauty of this early morning, the light pouring through the windows creating a rosy glow which engulfed the princess room; there was no beautiful light shining on the brunette’s new situation, seeming so dreary and dim.

Uyu still found herself wrapped up in this place, whisked away to a castle tucked deep within mountains known as Magenta. Every corner of the building was constructed brick by brick with a beautifully ornate architectural design, but the bright exterior was only a façade. If she was left caged like this for long, what would become of her? Driven to insanity, perhaps she’d attack and claw at the walls which confined her, unable to turn her anger to Saeran, the real victim in all this. The “savior” made it clear she was the true ruling figure who lurked about as the moon rose, the mastermind behind this place’s pain and suffering.

The night before, after being so kindly introduced to “Saeran”, this golden-haired angel confirmed herself to be quite the wicked witch of the west indeed, and it took everything out of Uyu to not call her harsher names to her face.

Mint Eye was hell redecorated to wear the guise of heaven, but pretty gardens and saccharine words could not fool her. Because Dan wore no wool over her eyes, the savior had no intention of allowing her to live long enough to become the new narrator of “The Yellow Wallpaper”; and she had no shoes to click together at the heel to wish her way home with who she came here for originally.

Just as Ray’s suit did, he changed, flipping like a light switch.

Saeran, the name V previously called him by, did succeed in giving her a good fright, his attitude being the least thing she expected to see after Ray’s earlier sobs over the phone.

Uyu was mainly focused on one solid question after their encounter, though. Just what did that “cleansing” entail in full detail? What did this place do to him, to make him weep and beg for a warm hand to hold one minute, only to push back and try to scare her the next?

It was as if he was caught, dragged by the feet somewhere inescapable, a pit damp and dark down under; rising from a shivering grave cold to the touch.

If it weren’t for her position, she wouldn’t have allowed it.

Now more than ever, this room built on the foundation of fantasy and delight felt like a birdcage which barely allowed her to wiggle an arm through its bars. She relied on her song, her sweet words which Ray claimed to tickle at his heart and hold a power over him like no other before. Her goal, of course, was to use this for good, influencing him to learn to appreciate and care for himself like he should. But now, she felt unable to do even that much, not that she’d give up trying.

Saeran wished to dismiss her and her actions entirely, evident from his need to spew the fact that he bestowed upon her the label of being less than a person, his toy. His play thing.

That sick twisting she felt pooling in her gut upon first hearing the term “cleansing” seemed all too in place.

Ray, as sweet as her prince charming was, had a knack for leaving out important details about this museum of wonder. To her best guess, it was done to avoid panic as none of what went on here could be viewed as normal, or ok. He only briefly mentioned things like the “elixir”, such as on the night V arrived to spiral this place’s plans into chaos.

That was the night she could officially mark a great importance in staying, despite the vast network of lies.

Uyu wasn’t entirely stupid, she had an idea of what the elixir might be a while back, but it was still hard to process regardless.

Saeran threatened to give her one of these cleansing ceremonies...and said he could “draw out the maximum pain in the process”, telling her whatever happened to him hurt. A “no duh” moment indeed, but it was confirmation.

Ray suffered, for no reason other than he was too enwrapped in his blooming feelings for her, something that shouldn’t be taken as a negative but was. It displeased the savior that his chains which bound him by the ankles began to jingle with his new yearning to take flight.

She couldn’t allow herself to lie down and give the savior the satisfaction of breaking her, not when she still had so much to do, and not when Saeran and the RFA were at risk.

As the cool night-time air blew around them, feeling its whisper through her long locks of hair, Ray opened up about Mint Eye’s beliefs as a sanctuary for the “weak”, who had no choice but to lock themselves away to avoid further hurt.

He clearly viewed himself as someone in this category. Weak. But Saeran? Saeran shoved and shouted, which felt like a complete opposite to Ray’s whimpers and pleading. He even went as far as to accuse her of manipulation, of treating Ray like a puppet as she watched him dance to the harp she plucked.

Looking past his outburst and itch to watch her squirm, there stood a man seething with hate sparked entirely by twisted lies and his own fears. He gave himself away rather quickly as he attempted to say she messed with “hisna vefeelings” for some “big plan”.

She had to trust that there were boundaries he wouldn’t cross, being so close to her and forceful...and that was where her panic truly lied. But for now, she’d bank on the idea that he just wanted to scare her, staying alert in case he went too far. There were vases around from Ray’s various gifts that could be used as a weapon during the extreme. Unlike her, Saeran had no fighting skills either, but currently she was a bit too ill for those measures.

For once, a room so pink made her feel neither cozy nor at home.

Uyu’s fuzzy morning vision was then attracted to a black blob hanging on the doorknob. With a little eye rub, she made it out to be a dress, and a rather pretty one at that. In the way it was cut, it would expose much of her shoulders and upper back, the top front of it connected to a bow tied around the back of a neck piece with strings of fabric; like an attached choker. She could only assume it was a “gracious gift” bestowed upon her from the man she saw take Ray’s place. Apparently, he has a thing for black.

Her little device chimed again, and then once more, third time giving her the last push of annoyance she needed to reach over and respond to the opened chatroom.

She sighed with relief seeing Seven was the person active online, as she could now pester him with questions about what he was seeing on his end of the fight. They typed away, Uyu expressing concern for both of the hackers as they discussed Ra-Saeran’s new careless and aggressive tactics to snag him a victory.

As time passed, Jumin joined to ask questions as well, mainly circling around the governmental commendation from the Prime Minister to recognize the RFA for their charity work. Uyu stuck to her gut and pushed against the idea of it being a complete positive.

While both V and Seven acted oddly around the idea of the commendation, the RFA was also just a small organization which had only held two parties previous to Rika’s “passing”. The award was too fishy to trust in her judgment, especially now that she understood things going on around here weren’t at all what they had seemed to be.

Mint Eye wasn’t the only organization she was caught in that held its secrets.

After a bit of talking, Jumin agreed that the prime minister’s reasoning had to be figured out before any final decisions could be made. Everyone logged off, Seven returning to the battlefield and Jumin to stitching in his car.

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

The need for food grew worse.

Uyu showered and changed into the outfit provided…not having much of a choice to do otherwise unless she wanted to rewear old clothing. She felt down and sluggish as she dressed the way her toy maker willed, the dark frills of her attire tickling against her thighs as her step dragged. She was still ok enough to make herself look presentable, even if done at such a pace.

Her hair changed to a solid dark brown color as it took in the shower water, the gold ombré reaching her tips returning upon giving it a blow dry, making sure Saeran would have less to scoff next he saw her. She wasn’t aiming to avoid his crude comments, but instead trying to make herself feel good. Call her smelly all he wants, she knows she isn’t.

Saeran was aiming to play into her insecurities, maybe full well knowing she had so very many of them as he tried to wind her up. The least she could do was confirm his lies to be lies in the ways she knew how, if not for him then for her. She couldn’t allow him to figure out what made her gears stop, whether his words were true or not. This was no game of knife throwing, and she was no target.

11:00 AM crept up on her as she moped around quietly in her dollhouse, waiting for Saeran to come and try to take a good yanking on her marionette strings.

Dan sat upon the bed as the empty-headed feeling and banging in her temple raged, shifting to lay down fully and make herself more comfortable. If she stood for too long, she’d sway and wobble as her vision turned to black, purple and green swirls, momentarily clouding both her sight and mind.

Despite her numerous texts and occasional calls, she still heard nothing from Saeran. Not a peep.

She was growing restless as well as worried for him, and what would become of her as she continued to go unfed.

Her phone buzzed, shifting her attention over to it groggily, eyes half lidded as she wanted to sleep off this sinking feeling. Soon, she’d start to go down like the Titanic as lunch time acted as her iceberg.

Uyu hoped it was her self-proclaimed master, only to let out a grumble seeing that it wasn’t. Instead, it was Zen who had logged on.

She chatted with him, trying her best not to voice her ever-growing discomfort from skipping last night’s dinner as well as that morning’s breakfast, lunch time now creeping just around the corner.

After a quick talk, she’d call Saeran again...as uncomfortable as that conversation would be, it was her only viable option to kill the onslaught of nausea.

As they talked for a while, Yoosung joined the conversation as well….with talk of food; stew he was in the middle of making to be precise. She felt her stomach churn and rumble as the need for rest fell over her like a weighted blanket, being the only escape from the inevitable vomit now building up inside.

She logged off within another couple of seconds as the hot sweat began.

Dan swallowed thickly as her stomach went haywire, guts twisting, coaxing her to run to the toilet and empty out the water she could at least keep herself going on from the bathroom tap.

Leaving her phone on the bed, she rose to her feet best she could, stumbling till she reached the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. There, she fell to her knees, pulling her long hair back and away from her damp face, lifting up the toilet seat before her.

Within a mere moment, she felt the contents claw at the inside of her throat with a burning sensation, attempting to break free. She shuddered as her body suddenly fell in temperature, before allowing whatever her tummy could offer up to slip past her lips, color in her face all too faded away, displaying her illness. Gagging and choking noises echoed throughout the small room as the rather clearish liquid flowed from her mouth, tears from the discomfort blurring her vision as she blinked them away.

She stayed like that by the toilet for a while, throwing up a couple more times before making certain that event was over for the time being. Uyu considered herself extremely lucky that none was able to touch her or end up in her hair, but not nice to say vomiting wasn’t new to her. She knew the tricks.

Oddly, when something like this would happen, it gave her a tiny amount of strength back. It was strangely relieving, although emptying her stomach further. Her tummy was able to untense a tad.

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes before giving it all a flush down.

A fast teeth brush followed before she stumbled over to bed where she had left her phone. She fiddled with the RFA app until she could reach Saeran’s contact profile. Trying not to let the dread of being ignored again wash over her, she dialed up his number, both nervous and praying this time for a response.

After that last fit was over, her condition would move her into another stage, passing out being the only thing to come next without the blood sugar spike she needed.

The ringing went on for what felt like an eternity as she groaned and pressed her face into the pillow.

“Pick up...pick up damn it please pick up…”.

Uyu wished that she had made a bigger fuss over this earlier rather than attempting to swallow it and wait it out. Being distracted by “the savior” and Saeran’s screaming was something she shouldn’t have allowed herself to do in the midst of endangering her own health. What was she thinking? She knew it would reach this point, it always does if left unchecked. She internally cursed herself for not speaking up more assertively.

After another moment, his angry voice finally came through the speaker and she sighed softly with relief. The last she had heard from him was at four in the morning.

“Feeling this lonely and desperate already, hmm? Tch...what makes you think you have the right to contact me over and over again when I’m doing important work unlike you?”

She huffed on the other end, which he paid no mind.

“All you do is fiddle around like a good for nothing. You didn’t seem so happy to chat with me last time we spoke, but now you’re all eager and ready? You’re just itching for another visit aren’t you? Impatient little princess~.”

He let out an airy chuckle, finding her repeated acts of calling him rather amusing.

“Don’t worry. I have play time all planned out for you soon, you pest. I’ll bother you ten times more than you ever bothered me-”

She cut off his angry rambling, mumbling quietly as she spoke.

“Saeran...can you please come here? I’m not well right now and I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself functioning...I already threw up-”

“Speak up, you complainer! Seriously? You want to see me so badly that you’d put on an elaborate show? Princess...you can’t win any sort of sympathy from me by acting like a brat. Ugg, I’m going to hang up now. I’ll be imagining the million ways I can punish you for this later, stupid toy. I’m busy! Too busy for a bug like you to understand! You waste my time-”

“Wait please...please come here...it’s harder for me to explain over the phone. I...mentioned this problem earlier..please…”

And she had, briefly attempting to bring it up as he invaded a chat room between her and Jaehee.

“Begging now?”

He took on a sad tone of childish mockery as he continued.

“Please please please...please come see me... AHAHA! You airhead. I know what your medical records look like, and therefore I know you’re spinning a lie. You’re not to be trusted just as my savior says. There’s nothing there pertaining to some sort of eating issue other than the fact that your weak little body can’t handle milk…‘Uyu’~.”

He teased at her chosen nickname, and while the irony was why it was picked, this was less than fun.

“Now quit whining over an empty stomach when it hasn’t even been a full day! It’s no fun to see you give up so fast!”

Dan tried her best not to slur her speech, the task assigned to speak up being too hard of one to follow.

“Fine...fine don’t believe me. But…..it doesn’t hurt to come anyways. Since you want to see me suffer….or whatever….”

“Or whatever??? Toy, if I come see you right now...you won’t like what you’re going to get. I haven’t an ounce of pity in me to give you if that’s what you’re searching for. I'm not the type to let you rest in my lap as I stroke your hair and tell you it will be alright, and I won’t give in and feed you. Instead, I’ll make sure you never wish to call me again.”

“...ok…”

“Ok? Ok?? Haha! ...ok then. Let’s see how pathetic you’ve become as you beg and plead to me in person, little actor. Playtime is happening earlier today than I had planned. Congratulations! I’m extra pissed.”

Call ended.

She let out a puff of air, dropping her phone down next to her before closing her eyes, not bothering to stand in preparation for his arrival.

Next chapters All chapters

#suit saeran #ray mystic messenger #saeran x mc #Uyu #Dan Byeol #mystic messenger cmc

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vidalinav · 4 years

Text

POV’s are really interesting in this series:

For a number of reasons, but because you realize how fucked up the IC are, and I don’t mean this in a hate way. I mean this in a people are complicated way, but also sometimes annoying. Like I knew they were before because they have been since ACOMAF, but they were even more so when it wasn’t Feyre’s POV.

Because look we now know Azriel clearly has issues now. To what extent truly they are? We don’t know yet. But he’s got some issues. Whether that be having this 500 year “crush” or him being like “I deserve an Archeron.” Clearly that’s not a good sign and then of course, Rhys can’t “control” him and he doesn’t really value Feyre’s input as word of law, and they don’t get really any information about his past as Rhys has said, which is problematic for so many reasons including Rhys himself.

Then we have Cassian, who has an almost god-like sentiment towards his High Lord and the IC, which I understand to some extent because those are his family and he didn’t have anyone, but it’s almost too fanatical. Which of course, plays into this mindless soldier scenario which he’s always put against. But, Cassian’s POV to me is a lot like Feyre’s where they are almost too blind to the people around them, who’ve helped them in some way.

We know all the issues with Rhys, that didn’t change at all. He’s basically the same, though we got to see more of his politics in which he offers many many choices but all of them are not really choices. As Amren points out, SPECIFICALLY, when dealing with Nesta. That if threats were necessary that’s what they’re going to do to get her to agree lol.

Amren is horribly tyrannical, which again I’ve said might be because of her loss of powers and her being second without really having the foundation to be Rhys’s second anymore. So she might be insecure in her place, but... She don’t need to be ruling the world. No one wants to rule the world. Maybe she’s still got that mindset I don’t know, but she needs to stop. It would be interesting to see if she gets any character development in later books.

Mor is the one who actually wasn’t trashed too much in this book, except for the beginning, but that miraculously went away (SJM--rolling eyes). Though I would like Mor not to be trashed only because she’s basically Nesta in so many ways. Where she’s been through horrible things, and unfortunately just like Nesta she has to be pleasant to belong in this group. I understand that this pleasantness is at some point healing, but it’s also at some points invalidating, because you can read that Mor is not happy all the time and she has to hide from who she is from her own family who she’s suppose to trust. How do none of them know that she’s a lesbian or have they ever inquired about her relationships with anyone, because they know the whole Az situation? Is that not uncomfortable? Like I’m sorry, but how many times did we get the fact that Mor is telling the story wrong of her own pain either from Eris or Eris hinting that Rhysand knows this too. Like okay... When will they realize that usually things are not black and white, but if someone says you hurt them, you have in some way, you can’t argue your way out of that by saying your memory is wrong. ***whispers*** that’s called gaslighting.

Feyre I didn’t hate and I’m glad, because I did want the sisters to come together and to be close. Because honest to god, who the hell would keep the chances of dying by birth from the woman who is giving birth? Like I’m so glad Nesta told her, and I’m glad that Feyre was like fuck y’all you should have told me. I felt a great like relief in that, especially because it mirrors that one time where Feyre went to see the Suriel in ACOWAR and Mor was angry at Nesta because she didn’t tell anyone where she was, and Feyre was like “At least she’s loyal.” There’s a lot of times in this series, where I feel that the only people who have the Archeron sisters’ best interest are the Archeron sisters. They act so much more familial even with their issues, than the IC. My hope is that they come together more. Because this bs voting thing that IC has is definitely skewed in certain directions and I really like the thought that the sisters even this out and can’t necessarily be taken advantage of. Because Feyre certainly had Nesta’s back with the weapons situation. I would like to see that more too with Elain.

But I know the next book won’t center on Nesta but it would be interesting to see if Nesta ever realizes that the IC do take advantage of her and want to take advantage of her--especially if the goal is to be High King and Queen. Using Nesta for power was mentioned so many times by so many people, and she still has some power that’s clearly important if the mother reached out a hand and she still has the trove. I wonder if she’d fight that. I feel she would to some extent, and I really don’t think Feyre would want to be High Queen but it’s certainly interesting. Because Nesta has a lot of guilt for things that are warranted and things that are not warranted. So I asked that question in a previous post, what did you think about Nesta kneeling to Amren to apologize, and most people said that hell no. The apology wasn’t the problem, because you know the apology at some point was her letting go and it was healing for her to do it, but almost everyone said that they wished Amren would have done it as well, since she was horrible the entire time. I agree. The IC still have the same problems now, so it would be very very interesting to see how Nesta views them when she’s more involved with them all familiarly. Wouldn’t it be something if she was like “oh it was you after all.” Nesta is not perfect by any means and she was def at a rock bottom situation, but I argue and say that the IC have been in a rock bottom situation for 500 plus years, and at this point their digging. Maybe they needed these additional people in their group to really suss out all of the issues that they have.

I right now have only hope for the sisters, because there’s obviously some notions of fate going on here. That 3 Archerons all turned fae for this moment, for some reason. The main POV’s are the sisters so far and it’s almost certain that Elain will be next POV, because then it wouldn’t make sense at all. All of the sister’s have so much power and the IC rely on them sooo much that I wonder sometimes if the IC realize that if they joined together like none of them would have a real “true” say in what the sisters are involved in. Because they’re family first and not Court first, as it always seems to be hinted at though not expressly stated.

But that’s just something I’ve noted. What do y’all think?

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #feysand #feyre archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #mor #azriel #amren #acosf #acosf spoilers

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Note

Are you Christian? You usually seem very negative about it with Jake but Nat talks Bible stories and you own a Bible?

There are a few things to unpack in this ask, and I’ll try to touch on them all.

CW for frank talk about religion/Christianity, child abuse, domestic violence

1. I was raised in a very conservative rural Christian community in which the closest I came to knowing an open atheist before I was in high school was that my best friend’s family didn’t go to church. It was the kind of conservative Protestantism where my friend in high school being Catholic was cause for commentary by my extended family, who were concerned that if I attended church with her I might get into “idol worship.”

I wanted Card Captor Sakura tarot cards once because I thought the art was beautiful and had a family member threaten to burn them.

I took Christianity for granted as the foundation of the world until I watched it used as a cudgel against the people I knew who in some way did not fit a mold that made no sense, and I became aware that the strictures I was living in were subjecting some of the people I loved to utter misery, hatred, and violence. This is before I was able to even conceive of my bisexuality.

The older I get, the more I see how the American Christianity I grew up with is merely a weapon, twisted and corrupted from the very words that its adherents claim to most believe in, used to excuse and justify bigotry, selfishness, and cruelty. Learning about the history of Christianity used as a weapon during colonization did a lot, too, to make me see that what I read, and learned, in the Bible was not Christianity as most of its adherents understood it.

Would I identify that way now? I don’t know. There is such a weight of negativity, when we have watched those great and pious Christians support tearing children from their families, executing prisoners, justifying all those things they once taught us were unforgivable sins unless you repented, and selling the soul of the national Christian to gain a little power and a justification for their own bigotry.

If you shall know them by their fruits, there are a lot of rotten fruits.

There is a lot of good in Christianity, but it has lost so much ground by catering to the worst and refusing to stand up for those who need love most. The very people we are called to hold our arms out to are turned away for the tiniest, flimsiest, most ridiculous reasons.

The person I have known in my life who most embodies Jesus is an atheist and she is working herself to the bone trying to serve undocumented communities along the border in Texas, despite a consistent risk to her own health from the violence she is routinely threatened with.

2. I don’t really think the comparison of Nat to Jake is a fair one. Jake grew up in an abusive environment, and his experience with church was a congregation that turned away from the obvious signs that he and his mother were being abused.

Jake experienced being told his father was the ‘head of the household’ and he should be more respectful. He experienced his father’s bullying, violence, and homophobia. He experienced his mother being told that she should try to “steer” his father away from abusing her, or be more faithful, or call on God for help, when the people who could have helped her chose not to.

He saw his father wear the mask of an affable family man, and how everyone chose to believe the mask, because it was easier for them if they did not see a woman and her son who desperately needed a way out.

Jake’s experience was, as a whole, a deeply negative one. And if you think it’s not true to life, I would challenge that you are ignoring a lot of stories of very real people who have experienced and survived this exact thing.

While I have not modeled Jake on a single person, every aspect of his upbringing, right down to being told that if he respected his father as an authority more that the abuse wouldn’t be so bad and being sent back to his mother when he got old enough to fight back and couldn’t be used to control her from afar any longer, is something that happened to someone in real life.

A lot of these things are hidden - but they are still real.

Nat, meanwhile, has a background of some similarity to my own, in that nothing was perfect but the church was not inherently negative in her life, it was simply part of the foundation. She has a lot of joyful memories of her childhood in church.

A lot of us are walking around who may not attend church, at least not regularly, but who were raised on Bible stories that we can still recite word for word even a decade or two later, and who can sing whole songs from Veggie Tales, who could right here and right now burst into “THERE’S A RIVER FLOWING DEEP AND WIDE” at the top of their fucking lungs. You want to hear about Jacob wrestling with God? I can recite parts of it from memory. I can sing “It Is Well With My Soul” right now. How Great Thou Art, all the old hymns, they’re still in my mind and my heart and I still find so many of them beautiful.

I still think of Bible stories when making comparisons, sometimes, because it’s very much like any memory - your mind pulls on the strongest associations automatically, and our childhoods are foundational.

So, yeah, Nat thinks about those stories and what is left between the lines, because they’re part of her identity, no matter how she lives, now. She also tells Jake, when following the ambulance to the hospital, “we take the hand that God deals us and we hope for the best”.

I would argue Nat has retained some faith in God as a force of good, but she has retained a faith that requires her to do the hard work, make the hard choices, and stand up for the ‘least of these’ rather than hoping someone else will, rather than waiting for someone with more power or more authority or more money to do it.

Nat is my view of the ideal Christian - imperfect, prone to mistakes, but her compassion knows no boundaries, and she will stand up for the weak ones, and those who need her, even at the cost of her own freedom and life if necessary - but she doesn’t sit around proclaiming it, she doesn’t need the world to know it, she only needs to show through her actions, be known by her fruits. She fucked up before, sure, but she’ll spend the rest of her life working to undo that failure and how it hurt so many people she could never have understood at the time, with the information she had available to her. If I had to pick a song to define how I see Nat’s view of religion, it would be Dear Me by Nichole Nordeman.

If Jake kept any shred of positivity towards religion, it would be because of living with Natalie Yoder, who actually quietly lives out all the shit that other people just say really loudly while publicly supporting the opposite.

They’re different people, with different life experiences and therefore very different ways of looking at Christianity - and neither one of them is me, not fully. Neither one fully reflects where I am, in my own beliefs.

I understand them both, but I am not my characters, and I don’t want their mindsets or beliefs to be taken as mirror reflective of my own, because they aren’t.

3. For the record, I own five Bibles. Three were gifts, two I bought myself a long time ago. The archeology Bible I bought myself and I still fucking love it, it’s cool just from a history nerd perspective even. I have never thrown a Bible away in my life, and I don’t get rid of them.

It’s just a superstition, I guess, but I’ve never been able to.

When my father died, he had something like seventeen Bibles, many deeply worn and torn. I can’t tell you how we agonized over what to do with them, because throwing away a Bible seemed so deeply wrong. We had to sort of gin each other up to be able to throw any of them out, and we still kept some.

But, yeah. I own a few.

I think you are likely to discover that a whole lot of us raised very Christian still have Bibles in our houses/apartments, whether we currently practice or not.

Some of us may only have them for still-religious family members to see, to hold off a series of questions we don’t want to answer. Some of us have them because they’re just part of our lives, like the walls and the kitchen faucet. Some of us still sit down to read them, sometimes, because we still feel moved by the stories that lived in us first.

Some of us keep them for all those reasons and more.

#christianity #religion tw #jake asks #nat asks #child abuse tw #religious abuse tw #domestic violence tw

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good-rwbyaus · 4 years

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@little-voice-the-parasprite wrote: ...now I want to hear Weiss’s tale on this. This is like a fanfiction idea in the making.

Like, one of thosw fanfiction ideas where the beginning was launched out of a cannon just a few degrees to the side as opposed to canon, and the differences greadually make themselves more and more blatant and glorious as the stories unfold.

// I got you! 8) - mod lilac

____

Perspective :: Weiss // Becoming - [ main chapter ]

logo-comics asked: What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it.

Weiss remembered the brunette clad in red when she first arrived. At first, she thought the overly energetic girl was Ozpin’s kid. Free and expressive without any of the reverence a student should have for an esteemed Headmaster of a combat academy.

And then she heard the Headmaster say something very scary.

“Professor Rose.”

At first she couldn’t believe it. This Rose was younger than her and still had baby fat on her face, but as the Headmaster and Professor Rose spoke about the months prior to today, she became more and more astonished.

Cutting down a pack of Beowolves on her own.

Taking down a Boarbatusk with her bare hands.

Collaborating in a Hunters mission.

A normal student at a preparatory academy couldn’t do any of these things. Even students at combat academies didn’t start participating in missions until 2nd year, but this girl - probably not older than fourteen - did it.

But what really got her was the smile the girl wore when the Headmaster spoke of her exploits. Her demeanor wasn’t arrogant but shy and excited - as if she couldn’t wait to head out to fight even more.

It’s just that the girl needed a team to do so.

Heh. Pyrrha. Who’s Pyrrha? What champion of Mistral?

This was the person she needed to partner with.

-----

"And that’s not to mention all the connections you can make knowing the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company,” Weiss explained hastily to the pajama-wearing Ruby Rose who just gave her a blank, unmoved expression.

Argh. What did this girl want?!

Ruby didn’t care about the educational pension she offered nor did she care about sponsorship by the Schnee Dust Company after graduation. She didn’t blink an eye either about having her weaponry supplemented with all the recent Dust research the SCD could offer. And the only time she did react was when she offered free expert weapon maintenance during her stay at Beacon, and the girl gave her such a disdainful stare that she got flustered and stuttered through the rest of her recruitment speech.

By the time she finished, she was red in the face, embarrassed by this girl who didn’t seem to care for this valuable opportunity at all.

Was she just playing hard-to-get, trying to get more out of her? Or were all prodigies like this?

As though she noticed how awkward she was being, Ruby sheepishly rubbed her head with an apologetic look in her face.

“Uh...Weiss, right? That’s great and all, but I don’t think you’re what I’m looking for in a partner,” Ruby said hesitantly with a bow of her head.

Was this pipsqueak looking down on her? Professor be dam- whatever.

“What are you looking for in a partner then?” Weiss asked, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice.

Ruby’s friendly demeanor turned serious at the drop of a hat.

“Can you fight?” Ruby replied without missing a beat, “And can I trust you to have my back?”

Those two questions made her mouth gape her like a goldfish.

It was clear that all the things she cared about - connections, money, power, opportunity - were worthless in front of this fourteen year old girl. And Ruby was being genuine, not trying to negotiate more out of her like businessmen were wont to do. She could feel the conviction in the other girl’s words as if nothing else truly mattered in that little world of hers.

It was such a shock to her own worldview that she just stood there, even after the young girl shook her head and walked away.

The girl was right.

In the end, weren’t those two things the only things that truly mattered when fighting the Grimm?

It was the first lesson she’d learn from Professor Ruby and certainly not the last.

------

Have to find Pyrrha. Have to find Pyrrha.

Dashing through the Emerald Forest at top speed, she charged towards the gold and red blur that she saw flying above earlier. Sure, maybe she wasn’t able to give her recruitment speech to the Invincible Girl, but after learning the rules of forming a team, she realized she didn’t need to.

If she had known about the absurd manner of how they’ll find partners, she wouldn’t have thoroughly embarrassed herself last night.

Eye contact? Really?!

Well as long as she didn’t get the pretentiously suave blond guy Jaune as a partner she would count it as a win. Seriously, if she heard Snow Angel one more time, a name she couldn’t escape from when she was at Atlas or those stupid high-society parties her father favored, she was going to shove her heel into a place where the sun didn’t shine.

...Being around Ruby may or may not be worse. Sure, she’s a Professor-in-training, so she’s going to be experienced, but it would be weird having to listen to someone two years younger than her. Not to mention she thoroughly embarrassed herself in front of the gir-

As she burst through the treeline, her eyes widened as she caught a familiar crimson-cloaked figure. That figure turned its head towards her.

Silver eyes met hers, and Ruby wore a surprised expression for a moment before it quickly turned into a grimace.

“Oh.”

----

“Ah. Thank you for getting me down from that tree, Ruby,” the blond thanked, holding the spear-shotgun in his hands.

“Don’t mention it,” Ruby replied back, a genuine smile on her face. One that she never saw when the girl spoke to her.

“I still don’t see why you got him down there,” Weiss said grumpily, “He should be able to figure out how to land himself, not need another Hunter’s help. Do you like him or something?”

“Huh?” The blond in question looked to her and then Ruby.

“I think I just like Crocea Mors.”

“Wha-?” Jaune said, glancing over at his blade and shield-scabbard.

“I thought about why I felt really good about Jaune when we met at orientation,” Ruby spoke, not really paying attention to the other two’s reactions. It seemed she was used to monologuing; Weiss couldn’t help but picture Ruby as a lonely girl despite all her outward bubbliness. “And it has to be the shield. People who use shields are either scared of death or have something to defend. And since Jaune’s here despite being unstealthy, walking in a manner that’ll easily catch him flatfooted, and not having unlocked his Aura, he’s clearly not scared of death.”

“Uhhh...” Jaune laughed nervously. Weiss could only gave him an incredulous look.

“Honestly, if I had the choice, I’d rather pick him than you, Weiss.”

That hurt in more ways than one; was Ruby’s opinion of her that low? Her gaze locked back onto Ruby.

“Why?”

“Nothing personal. But Bart once said you can teach someone to fight, but you can’t teach loyalty,” Ruby quietly said, “And I don’t really know you well, and Jaune. Well, he has a shield.”

She was so annoyed that she wanted to laugh. Here she thought Ruby was thinking of her as completely unskilled and worthless, only for this reasoning to pop up.

“Aren’t you being a bit arbitrary?”

“Arbi-wha?” Ruby asked confusedly.

Weiss opened and closed her mouth before growling in frustration, “...Argh. How do I explain what that means? How can you be a prof-”

Ruby suddenly stopped and drew out her weapon. That alerted her and made her draw Myrtenaster right away. Jaune belatedly drew his blade and shield moments later.

“Grimm are coming,” Ruby hopped upwards into the trees, “I’ll handle long-range fire. You two engage.”

------

She darted through the battlefield using her Glyphs as platforms. Her precise bladework aimed for necks, eyes, and hearts, each one efficiently dispatching the Grimm that surrounded them. Occasionally, Myrtenaster would glow with an icy or fiery light, her favored attack elements holding and destroying the Grimm that got into her range.

From above, she could hear the tinkle of fallen bullet casings as Ruby provided sniper fire. She had an eerie feeling that every bullet the girl fired lethally found its mark.

“Hurggh!” the blond slashed down again and decapitated another Beowulf, probably the fourth or fifth compared to her dozen. Ruby was right. He was uncoordinated. Wrong foot out with his attack, sabotaging his gathered momentum. But against the young Beowolves, it was enough. And though his blade skills were poor, his body itself was pretty well-developed - if he ever started training for real, he had a really good foundation to start from.

Weiss mused to herself. Loyal people tended to be grateful, right? Maybe she could attract that sort of loyalty to her if she were to train him, but alas she was smart enough to know she was far from qualified. She’s more likely to lead him down the wrong path and wouldn’t that generate resentment instead?

Still, it’d be interesting to see if he could gain the skills Ruby expected him to get in the futur-

Wha- wrong Glyph?

She stumbled and slid into the ground instead of onto the Glyph she wanted to create. Lifting her head up, she saw the Beowulf she landed in front of about to deliver a haymaker onto her frame.

“Weiss!”

She saw the blond’s back as he stood in front of her, shield protecting them both. Her heart fluttered for a moment. Despite her cruel words and rejections, Jaune still took up her defense.

Loyalty.

The blond stumbled to the ground as he absorbed the blow, his hasty positioning too unstable to withstand it. Struck flat into the ground, Jaune groaned as his shield arm fell out of position with the Grimm about to strike down again.

“No!” she screamed.

Myrtenaster glowed white as she brought herself between the fist and Jaune, a White Glyph manifesting in front of her.

But then a flash of white suddenly bisected the Grimm, and its figure dissipated into red petals. Ruby came into view, slowly folding her scythe back into its portable form - the one or two Grimm that remained seemed to have been cleaned up by her.

Before she could thank the girl, Ruby started speaking.

"Ahh sorry. I knew you had it,” Ruby said apologetically before grinning, “I just wanted a chance to get up close and personal.”

It made things a bit awkward to be misunderstood like that, and she paused for a moment trying to find tactful words before realizing what she should actually be doing.

She lent a hand to a dazed Jaune and helped hoist him up.

“Hey,” Weiss said shyly, “Thanks for blocking that blow and s-saving me.”

“Ha. No problem. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s take a beating,” Jaune laughed, patting his chest with his fist.

His casualness brought a smile to her face, and it was nice to see another somewhat normal person in their group of three. Their companionable silence lasted for a moment before it was broken by Jaune.

“Ruby, why’d you fight long-range?” Jaune turned his head and asked confusedly, “I thought you’re a pretty good scythe wielder.”

Ruby lightly kicked a pebble on the ground as she frowned and grimaced, “I don’t want to be levitated out the Admin Tower by my foot again.”

Huh?

“For messing up another collaboration. Like umm... I use a scythe. I hit very wide, and you two fight in melee range and we’ve never fought together,” Ruby animatedly swung her hands to mimic her motions before finishing, “so things could get really bad, and Glynda said if I ever fought like that again, she’l-”

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Pyrrha finally appeared.

---

Pyrrha and Jaune went their separate ways, having rejected their offer to travel together. When she asked Ruby about it, Ruby simply said, “I think we’ll be surprised by Jaune when we meet him again.”

As she said this, the girl rubbed her cheek against her weapon as if drawing comfort from it. It was oddly familiar, and she remembered her doing the same back when the girl was with Headmaster Ozpin at orientation.

“You really like your weapon, don’t you?” Weiss teased.

“Crescent Rose,” she closed her eyes and didn’t stop hugging her weapon, “She’s the promise of the life I want to live.”

Weiss shut her mouth.

What could she say to that?

“You haven’t maintained your own weapon yourself for a long time, have you?”

The other girl’s expression was soft, and when paired with the almost loving expression she had for her own weapon, her words seemed more patient and guiding instead of accusatory. In fact, ever since their fight against the Beowolves, Ruby seemed less standoffish with her as if...

...she finally earned the other girl’s approval.

“You’re right,” Weiss admitted, deciding that she didn’t want to harm their fledgling relationship with fake blustering. Ruby’s right. She left it to someone she thought an expert. “How could you tell?”

Ruby held her hand out, and she knew what she wanted and handed Myrtenaster over to her.

“What’s your weapon’s name?”

“Myrtenaster...?” Uhh. Why’d Ruby want to know?

“Myrtenaster,” she nodded her head before saying, “Myrtenaster’s cylinder kept moving less smoothly during your fight, and it’s been throwing you off. You don’t trust in Myrtenaster’s mechanism anymore.”

Like what she was doing before with Crescent Rose, Ruby held the weapon’s guard against her cheek. Weiss couldn’t help but feel astonished.

How good was Ruby’s eye of discernment to notice that small detail while they were all fighting?

“So you keep using your eyes to check what dust color you’re using,” Ruby continued, her hand slowly turning the Myrtenaster’s cylinder, “And you’ve gotten so used to it that you don’t think it’s a problem anymore, except that the lapse in your attention nearly got you hurt today.

“I think Myrtenaster would be sad if that happened, even more than your lack of trust in it,” Ruby opened her eyes sorrowfully before holding the weapon, hilt out, back to her, which she graciously accepted.

“Whoever your expert is is probably remedying the quirk with a good amount of oil, which solves the smoothness but not the unreliability,” she sighed, “Myrtenaster must’ve taken a very nasty blow to the blade in the past, which probably misaligned the cylinder column. You probably only noticed it after you’ve used it for a while - a detail your expert probably wouldn’t have noticed because they don’t actually wield your weapon.”

Weiss recalled a phantom pain against her scarred eye, a Giant Armor’s fist crashing against both her and Myrtenaster. She had the blade itself repaired, but Ruby was right - she never noticed the cylinder’s problems until recently, and her expert kept saying it was in perfect condition despite her concerns.

“I get what you’re saying. I’ll maintain my weapon on my own from now on,” Weiss acquiesced.

“I’m sure Myrtenaster would like that,” she smiled, genuine happiness on her face once more before slight awkwardness returned to it, “Uhh. Hmm. Come on. Let’s get the chess pieces and finish up this Initiation. Maybe we can fight something along the way!”

Ruby already started dashing through the forest, and Weiss gave chase.

Weiss couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden switch in demeanor.

What a strange girl.

#ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #rwby fic #becoming au #rwby au #rwby #mod lilac #little-voice-the-parasprite

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