#my left eye is a lazy eye and true to its name it does basically nothing

[blazingflareon]

took like a year but finally did a proper ref for this guy lol

made him a lil more fucked up bc like. he blows himself up with experimental magic more than anyone probably should no it wasnt just bc i wanted to draw more bandages shut up

[failing-to-write-again]

Part 2 Jean Gray S/O Mukami Edition

sorry for the delays not to get too personal for privacy reasons but I've had an accident that's made typing slow plus with my exams wrapping up it's safe go say I got busy lol.

Eve had been taken by the Sakamakis and causing quite a fuss. Yet Karl their saviour had promised to make up for it only to have this risk thrusted upon them.

Unknown strength forcing them back from their approach and a familiar look in her eyes. Like a falcon in a cage ever thinking on how to get out. In a sick sense they realised they were staring at a mirror of their younger selves, as if they were somehow the monsters that had harmed them.

Ruki

You would think being previously human himself this dumbass would've realised that he's not smart from having some fangs. But no violence instead, sure he has a dark past, is old, and is basically in a cult but that doesn't excuse hurting others.

His inferiority complex, especially when it comes to women because ✨mummy issues✨, are going nuts. Every part of his little noggin is cycling through ideas of ways to turn off your powers or break you down to where you don't think you even try. Of course the mind reading throws a particular wrench in the plan.

Ruki shows every sign of his control issues being trauma responses from his past and while that's definitely a real issue it ain't your issue. You aren't a member of the cult that sends these girls you haven't been raised in such a toxic environment to view yourself as needing to be this female savior figure. Ruki is almost attracted to it but there's so much confliction going on. And you're fully aware how the smartest play is to never let on you know his parents names, his nightmares, his scars and his fears.

Kou

Oh boy. Kou is not as impatient as a Sakamaki, he also is better practiced in manipulation with people other then previously mentally broken down girls. He's not dumb enough to rush his hand as much as he hates it. Your a cat, independent and impossible to herd in his mind. Of course unlike a cat you aren't about to come sit in his lap regardless of how nice he acts.

That's when he learns your mind doesn't only affect the external but can also pry. Pry. Pry. Pry. Such a naughty little kitty you are hiding the truth from him so sneakily.

He decides there and then he'll be the one to kill you he just isn't sure how yet.

Yuma

Uneasy but by far the most receptive to it. Maybe it's favoritism but I think of the four Yuma is the most receptive to humanity but has been hardened and still values his brothers more than clinging to humanity.

You're useful in the garden, you're not fragile, and you're not taking part in the messy charade that is the vampire feeding cult. He does have an issue not being able to easily drink but I think he's the most likely to be able to work around it. ON ONE CONDITION...

It's the mind reading I'm getting so repetitive here and I know this may look lazy but let's not lie to ourselves. All the Diaboys got trust issues so mind reading is well out their comfort zone.

So as long as he knows about everything though its chill. The giant and the powerhouse dynamic means you have a relatively chill existence, until either you eventually escape or you and Yuma run off.

Azusa

Big fan but doesn't understand the true meaning ya know?

Dude gets a kick out of it which is an issue for you with the whole being left alone and not harassed by vampires thing. You learn pretty fast to be gentle pushing him away to try minimise his attempts to get you to hurt him. I don't think he'll care much about the mind reading he'd just see it as more reason to be punished.

I also think he won't even careto buffer the attacks of his brothers, thus adding to your stress. Needless to say it's setting up a weird dynamic.

If you're his flavour of fucked up it might be fun for you but that's pretty fucked up.

If not, you've now got this shadow to try shake.

Maybe in a post therapy world you be his protector but as it stands you refuse to be another tormentor.

[awigglycultist]

what happened to the unfuckable blog??

So sorry this took me long, I was at school, but here:

First, the og post that started it all

Basically mod Rhys was called out for making NFTs by an old mod (Felix)

Here's a post of an anon explaining that posted to the unfuckable blog explaining

And another person explaining the situation

After Rhys was called out some mods defended him, including Sunny who told an anon that they must of dreamt up Rhys making NFTs, although its possible that Sunny just didn't know that Rhys did make NFTs, then they left the blog. Then someone said that he abused ppl and he was basically like "oh yeah I did lol" and didn't take it seriously at all. He then took a break and got off the blog. In comes Ruby, now, the second post says that mod Temp and anons accused Ruby of ableism when really she is autistic and was just asking for ppl to us tone tags, this isn't true, not my eyes at least. The best way to explain what happened I think is just show screenshots, so here (click to actually see lol):

Anyways, after this several other mods get on, ethier trying to calm down the situation, or just trying to go back normal. One of these mods is a mod going under a new account and calling themselves mod temp bc they want to say stuff but no under their name. A couple mods leave. Anons tell them to deal with this privately, the mods say they can't bc Ruby won't talk to them. Rhys gets back on and tells Ruby to leave so he can delete the blog, Ruby says they'll when everyone else (except Rhys so they can delete) leaves, at the same time Rhys says that he doesn't care anymore and that the other mods can fight it out and he leaves. The mods start to leave. Temp says their waiting on one more mod that hasn't been active to leave. Temp then says they aren't leaving until Ruby does. Jack says they can't leave bc they're on mobile and cant get to their computer for a while. Currently I believe Ruby and Temp are in stand off basically to see who leaves first. It's been HOURS, I'm too lazy to check how many rn, but I think like around 10-12 hrs since Rhys first told Ruby to leave so the blog could be deleted. Also this might not all be 100% correct, particularly the stuff that happened first bc I never saw that when it happened and several posts were deleted, but I've been watching the drama not too long after Ruby started stirring up trouble so it's fairly accurate.

Also, here's an archive blog to check out if you wanna, especially after the blog get deleted (well if it gets deleted that is really)

[nagipops]

KONOHA ELEVEN IN A ZOOM CLASS!

FEATURING: naruto, sakura, shikamaru, ino, choji, hinata, kiba, shino, neji, rock lee, and tenten

WARNINGS: mentions of food

NARUTO

definitely has forgotten that he was unmuted multiple times

or his camera was accidentally turned on

you could just see him sprawled on his bed with a bowl of instant ramen on his lap and a blanket wrapped around himself

EARRAPE SLURPS!! rip headphone users.

sometimes he notices that his camera’s turned on and you can see him freak out and scramble to turn it off

but he accidentally unmutes himself too and so you just hear panicked yelling

his device topples to the floor with a loud crash and he screams so loud istg

the next thing you see is naruto’s face hovering over the camera in fear just before his camera turns off and he’s muted again

the teacher is so confused?? naruto should i call an ambulance

but when he’s not eating in class, he’s sleeping in class

too busy sleeping to leave the zoom at the end of class so he’s always the last one left in the meeting besides the teacher

always asks sakura what happened during the zoom and she is FED UP

SAKURA

enters the waiting room 15 minutes before class is actually supposed to begin

spends the next 15 minutes rearranging her work area, making sure she’s prepared for the day

sits properly at her desk with her hair smoothed down and her face positioned perfectly in frame

if no one else has their camera on, she’s the only one with it on

seriously, she ALWAYS HAS IT ON

and she never leaves the screen somehow

diligently takes notes, uses the “raise hand” feature every two minutes to ask a question

sometimes it can get a bit annoying, even for the teacher

but she almost always gets perfect marks

acts like in angel in class, but after class... no promises, naruto!

SHIKAMARU

this man can barely stay awake during missions, so during a zoom? HECK NAH

shikamaru is literally me,, half asleep during lessons but somehow gets amazing grades

everyone’s either pissed at or envious of him (especially naruto)

obviously does not have his camera on

and rarely ever unmutes

uses the chat feature to answer the teacher’s questions but this man is basically asleep so its so incoherent

“shikamaru, what is a hyperbole?”

in chat: “a hyeprbole is a exsaggerayed phras,e”

teacher definitely thinks he’s cheating on tests

INO

either a) daydreaming about boys or b) checking herself out in the zoom camera OR c) secretly fuming at sakura’s know-it-all behavior

the two girls definitely compete to see who can raise their virtual hand first

"ahem, ahem- sensei? could i answer this question?"

her voice gets all sickly sweet and sakura HATES IT

the two of them totally got caught insulting each other in the private chat

100% the type of student to rewrite her notes after classes with various markers and colored pens and pretty fonts and patterns and whatnot

loves doodling flowers in her notebook during boring lessons!

CHOJI

another strong contender for the Loudest Student award!

not on purpose though, he just forgets that space bar = unmute, and plays some jumping game in another tab (like the no internet dino game!)

also,, rip headphone users

c r o n c h munch munch munch

are you kidding this man's chews are loud enough in person, but with a HEADSET?! hoo boy.

has conked out several times during class

just imagine the name Choji Akimichi with a profile picture of a bag of chips light up with the green box around it with a thunk

the teacher and class is so confused

but then you hear mumbles of "barbeque... chips... barbeque..."

and you realize that the man fell asleep onto his keyboard

he sleeps through the rest of class

HINATA

shy bb has never ONCE turned on her camera

the only time she's ever unmuted was to say "here" during attendance on the first day of school

if the teacher ever takes attendance again, she just uses the raise hand feature

what if naruto-kun thinks my voice is ugly? what if i accidentally turn on my camera? what if the teacher thinks i'm not paying attention? what if-

poor baby is too busy worrying about showing herself on zoom to actually pay attention

actually gets good grades though and her classmates wonder if she’s even there

her zoom pfp is definitely just a purple google “H”

KIBA

has the CUTEST zoom pfp hands down

it’s a selfie of him grinning cheerily with baby akamaru

100% has his camera on the whole time to show off his pup

he loves seeing everyone’s faces on screen melt and aww at the lil big doggo

sometimes akamaru just walks in front of the camera and blocks kiba from view and you just see a massive wall of white fur on screen LMAO

even though kiba’s muted, you can see him and akamaru bickering about who knows what

or even play fighting,, these two get into full on BRAWLS during class

just imagine akamaru shoves kiba into his desk and his camera crashes to the ground overturned so you see the ceiling and the occasional dog tail wagging in the corner

seriously, can the teacher ever catch a break with this class?

the answer is no.

SHINO

his zoom pfp is just a tick.

a singular tick

totally answers questions in chat with proper capitalization and punctuation

shikamaru’s improper answers tick him off

“A hyperbole is an expression that is greatly exaggerated. They are used in order to create emphasis.”

has never unmuted in his life either

he’s so unfazed by everything that goes down in class that it’s funny

if anything the slightest bit RELATED to bugs comes up during class, in 0.00238 seconds this man has an entire essay about them posted in chat, almost like he had it copied and READY to paste

everyone's definitely shocked that there’s actually a human listening behind a tick profile picture

NEJI

a very diligent note taker

seriously, this man writes like a printer; perfectly even handwriting that looks like a font, a million words per minute

everyone asks him for his notes after the zoom because they’re so neat (especially naruto, to neji’s dismay)

he gets excellent grades since he’s so organized and focused

just wishes the zoom would be over so he can work alone in peace

really hates unmuting so he often gives one-word answers in the chat

“Yes” “47” “Present” “Goodbye”

has used a zoom reaction ONCE in his life and he has never wanted to crawl into a hole and perish more

it was a complete accident,, mans was just trying to open the chat to type in his answer, but in a cruel twist of fate he clicked on the 😂 reaction

and he just sat there for ten excruciating seconds in complete and utter shock and shame for ten excruciating seconds as he prayed for it to disappear

tenten would never let him live that down

ROCK LEE

Zoom Reaction Enthusiast

😂😮👍🎉❤️ 24/7

naruto accidentally unmutes himself? 😮

choji falls asleep on his keyboard? 😂

neji answers something correctly? 👍

tenten received the highest score in class? 🎉

akamaru appears on screen? ❤️

unmutes whenever he needs to, but he thinks the little emoticons are so silly and cute

otherwise, he is EXTRA FOCUSED and EXTREMELY DETERMINED to learn all of the things

he’s the first to unmute whenever the teacher asks if the class can see the screen share, hear them correctly, etc.

never takes his eyes off the screen!! he could be missing out on important information

I FEEL LIKE,, i feel like he would totally keep his camera off when he’s muted but whenever he unmutes he would also turn his camera on

so when he says a quick “yes!” his camera turns on but before his camera can adjust properly to the light he mutes and turns his camera back off so his face is just super dark for a split second LMAOOO

tell me im wrong

TENTEN

exasperated by this entire class

thinks her and neji are the only sane ones in the class and it’s true

wants to tell sakura and ino to stop competing and just focus on learning, since they’re the only other girls in the class besides hinata

plus she’s just fed up with all the lazy boys

takes great pride in passing every assignment, test, or exam with flying colors

teachers pet, but the quieter type who stays after every zoom and sends lots of emails regarding assignments and grades and whatnot (unlike sakura and ino who rub it in the teacher’s face)

doesn’t like helping other people besides neji, girl’s got a soft spot for him since they have a mutual respect for each other

but if you’re a handsome prince, maybe she’ll help you out!

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[dreaminginvelaris]

A Response to a Feyre Anti

I made a post recently explaining the dread of having to watch Feyre be abused by her sisters and father, in the Tv adaption. And a Feyre anti made a response, to something that should not be criticized at all considering what I said was just the truth? Feyre was abused. Not only that but they went on and completely twisted the narrative to fit their own ideas and in the process made Feyre out to be cruel and Nesta a saint. complete bull.

I will not be tagging the anti bc they have me blocked (shocker), but also I do not want anyone to go after them, if you come across the post, I don't want it to be through me. it's as much respect I can give to them.

I usually do not respond to those who have something to say with a post of mine or are blatantly talking about me on their blog, unless they're just spreading absolute lies about me or what i "said", it's usually a waste of time to do so. but this post attacked Feyre with outrageous lies and a complete backward interpretation of what actually happened in acotar, so as respectful as I can be, I will be analyzing the anti-response and what truly happened in acotar.

"the audience will only see two sisters fighting-not abuse" "it’s not Nesta you need to worry about. It’s audiences calling Feyre a big dumbass and a bitch" -from anti

if the audience has basic human compassion and empathy for humans IRL or fictional, they will see what's obvious from the start. Feyres abuse. how is it going to look, when they see Feyre walking through the woods, shaking from the cold, starving from hunger, and struggling to find food for her family? only to later see Nesta's treatment of Feyre?"

in the anti's post, they said Feyre was just as "heinous" to Nesta.

is Feyre the one calling Nesta a pig? a smelly pig? ordering her to take her clothes off?

no, it's not, it's dear Nesta. the text goes as "I took my time, swallowing the words I wanted to bark at her" oh yes... how cruel of Feyre. how heinous of Feyre to...stay quiet... at the verbal abuse.

in the same image we see Feyre ask Nesta to do something (kindly might I add) and then inquire why she didn't chop wood like she needs to.

what does Nesta do? acts like a brat and insults Feyre...once again.

considering I'm going off by the story and not the actual screenplay, and assuming they stay true to the story; will the audience not be disgusted by Nesta's behavior? I mean they just saw Feyre struggle to find food and they expect Feyre to go home to a family happy and appreciative of Feyre but instead, they get this familial abuse.

the anti said Feyre basically tells Nesta this:

"If you keep bitching at everyone like this no one will want to be around you or you can’t marry this guy because you’re a waste of space to me"

but what do we see?

"Believe me... the day you want to marry someone worthy, I'll march up to his house and hand you over. But you're not going to marry Tomas."

the word worthy, did that not catch your eye? Feyre said Nesta will have to marry someone worthy, someone, who will treat Nesta kindly and give her the life Feyre thinks her sisters deserve. bc Feyre does think that IDK why anti feyres think Feyre despised Nesta so much, Feyre loved her sisters.

what the anti fails to realize here is that Nesta marrying Tomas would have been actually pretty great for Feyre. in the sense that, Feyre would no longer carry the burden of her sister. Feyre would not have to worry about feeding one more mouth. or worrying about Nesta's constant stealing of Feyre's money. Feyre does not think Nesta is a "waste of space" to her, if she did, it would have been easy for Feyre to discard Nesta, and allow her to marry Tomas. the anti has that twisted.

but that is not even the worst part of the scene. did you see the shameless slut-shaming that came out of Nesta's mouth? how will the audience take to that? do you think most of the younger generation will take it lightly to see a sister slut-shame a sister? a woman putting down another woman? in this social climate? where the feminism movement is alive and flourishing. will they be okay with it? will they still blame Feyre and be mad at her the way the anti says they will be? I hope not otherwise I'm losing faith in humanity.

Lovely words Nesta spews at Feyre. I admit Feyre should have told her then and there that Tomas is abusive. but let's think: Feyre is 19 years old, the youngest, has never had any raising by a parental figure, has been neglected by her whole family, where would Feyre learn to calmly talk to an overgrown brat like Nesta? Feyre telling Nesta who Tomas truly is the duty of a parent, not a sister. I will not condemn Feyre for not knowing that was the perfect time to tell Nesta who Tomas is. especially when Feyre is being tormented and verbally/emotionally abused, its kinda hard to think about something else while you're being told all these horrible words. to us its easy to see where Feyre went wrong but unless you're in the exact position Feyre was in. no one has any room to talk. and even then, every person is different in situations like these.

this part was me analyzing the interactions between Feyre and Nesta since anti had reasons to believe Feyre was just as bad to Nesta and that the audience would see that and hate Feyre. I am now going to respond to the second part of the Feyre Anti's response.

"How will an audience of non-fans react to her not reaching out to her family to tell them she was okay after the reconciliation between her and Nesta? Or not inviting them to the wedding?"- from anti

moving onto acomaf now.

Idk maybe the audience will see Feyre, a depressed, lonely, individual in an abusive relationship while being manipulated by other individuals she called friends, and understand and empathize with her. all throughout the beginning and half of acomaf, Feyre is in critical depression. she wholeheartedly believes she should not be alive. that she is not worthy. she doesn't eat, all she does is sleep, self-care is not important to her or others so why would letting a family know she's okay, a family who BARELY ever cared about her, be a priority? it doesn't seem like Nesta or elain or her father was really fazed by Feyre's lack of communication. her father left on a trip, elain got engaged and Nesta, well we didn't see a tearful welcoming to Feyre on Nesta's part did we?

anti, where is the outcry of her "family" not even really caring if Feyre was safe or not, of what happened to her? it's not like they thought she had died, otherwise, where was the mourning or funeral? no, they just didn't care.

see this is where I know when anti is just full of bullshit. why, WHY, would Feyre invite her family to wedding full of fae? the creatures elain and Nesta fear and hate? for all the talk many anti's spew about Feyre being inconsiderate to Nesta, to her family, you would think Feyre maybe just knows a fae wedding would be the last thing they would want? even then, does Feyre owe them an invitation to her wedding? does she owe them an update on her life? nope. Feyre owed them nothing.

"How about her shit-talking Nesta to a bunch of strangers then having the audacity to ask her to get involved in a war. Oh! This is after she comes into her house and insults their hospitality." - from anti

I hardly think Feyre confiding in individuals who she learned to care about and laying out all the trauma Feyre endured with her family is "shit-talking" but for argument's sake, let's say it is. I still don't see what's wrong? after years of pent-up anger and hurt, would you not let go of everything you withheld inside and explain what was done to you? how you felt? Feyre telling the IC her life story, which contains Nesta's abuse and her family's neglect, was a form of therapy for Feyre. I never read a line where Feyre calls Nesta a "cold-hearted bitch" or called elain "a lazy ditz" she just said the truth. no added embellishments. Cassian was the one who shit-talked Nesta during the dinner scene, never Feyre.

I still don't understand why antis are so against Feyre asking her sisters for help? like the war didn't involve them? they're humans, and you know what the war was about? Hybern wanting to take control of the human lands like they once did and turn them into slaves. those humans included Nesta and elain.

"They could have left the continent" correct, except elain was engaged and refused to leave Grayson. which meant Nesta refused to leave elain. but even so, isn't it the duty of humans to band together and work to overthrow a race of people who want to torture and keep them as slaves? the queens certainly weren't doing their jobs. Feyre asked to use "their" house to meet the queens bc where else would they do it? the queens trust the fae less than Nesta or elain did. but even so, Feyre asking to use their house was a courtesy, that house is rightfully Feyre's. she is the one who sacrificed herself to leave with Tamlin. she did it bravely, courageously, and they got that house thanks to her. they owed Feyre everything. and the only one who acknowledged that was Elain.

that war involved elain and Nesta whether they or Feyre or the anti's liked it or not. not even considering that Nesta and elain are Feyre Archerons sisters, yeah, their family name alone puts a target on their back.

How did Feyre or the court insult Elain's and Nesta's hospitality? You mean when Feyre realized human food differed from fae food? something she did not know about bc she's barely been turned to fae and only had eaten fae dishes? Feyre's grimace towards the human food was an involuntary reaction to someone who is still learning their new body. or was it when Cassian called out Nesta for her cold treatment towards Feyre? if that's the case then fuck decency, I would call out a fake bitch in my presence from minute one. you cant call what Nesta did "hospitality" when all she did was insult Feyre when she didn't even care that Feyre had died, or lost her love bc of abuse, or that her body was changed against her will.

hospitality: the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers.

did y'all read something different bc this for sure was nothing Nesta gave to her guests?

----

the rest of the anti post moves towards Rhysand and his actions UTM which I won't go into because I'm mainly just addressing the false interpretations this anti had to say about Feyre and her family.

I'm not sure how to sign off now lol, but I guess just that I hope this was enough to show how this anti's arguments were completely ludicrous and have absolutely no compassion for Feyre, and instead all the compassion for Feyre's abusers. This anti had a real spin on what the actual story was, and I hope the evidence I provided was enough to show that. Anyways yeah my brain is fried, and I'm done arguing with Feyre anti's for a while now, I need to go praise my queen Feyre so I can receive some semblance of peace.

anyways, stan Feyre for clear skin xx

[everwitch-magiks]

RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

[bigbadredpanda]

Helloo, would it be a possible interpretation that the ideals and mindset that wwx follows is close to the religion and practice of Taoism?

Hello! That’s a fascinating question and I wish I had more knowledge to delve deeper on the subject but I’m a bit more familiar with the philosophy/spirituality part of Taoism than with its religious practices and rites. As always, anyone is welcome to add to the discussion or correct me if I misconstrue something, this is a vast topic and I’m just an interested layperson!

Xianxia in itself is a literary genre rife with references to Taoism: the pursuit of immortality, the internal alchemy to form a golden core, the Taoist exorcisms to drive out evil spirits, Taoist incantations and talismans, etc... But that does not necessarily make cultivators Taoists.

At the heart of Taoism is the philosophy of espousing harmony with nature, with the self, with the Tao. It’s about simplicity, spontaneity, non-attachment to worldly desires. In the introduction of my copy of the Zhuangzi (庄子), one of the main Taoist texts, the translator chooses the hero Yu the Great to epitomise the “going with the flow instead of fighting against the current” attitude dear to Taoists. Yu the Great is a legendary figure whose father, Kun, was tasked by the emperor Shun to protect the country from floods. Kun built barrages and dykes that held momentarily the waters in check but they ended up bursting, causing a flood even more devastating. The emperor banished Kun and entrusted the son, Yu the Great, with the same mission. Yu the Great succeeded by digging canals to help the course of water and let it flow to the sea. Yu the Great is referenced several times in the Zhuangzi and, interestingly, Wei Wuxian himself takes him as a model when he challenges Lan Qiren in the classroom and sows the seeds of what would become the foundation of his demonic cultivation:

魏无羡道：“横竖有些东西度化无用，何不加以利用？大禹治水亦知，堵为下策，疏为上策。镇压即为堵，岂非下策……”

Wei Wuxian said, “Anyway, there are some things that cannot be liberated so why not make use of them? Yu the Great who controlled the waters knew that building barrages to block was ineffective and dredging canals to reroute was the superior method. Suppression counts as blocking, wouldn’t is also be considered ineffective...” (ch.14)

The carefree and unfettered part of Wei Wuxian’s nature does fit Taoist ideals, you even have the opposition of the more Confucian-oriented Gusu Lan Sect and its rigid abidance with rules and ethics. However, Wei Wuxian is at odds with a key concept of Taoism: the principle of non-action (无为 wuwei). It’s not passivity or laziness, it’s letting nature runs its course, letting things fall into place. Wei Wuxian is very much shown to be assertive, even wilful, when his mind and heart are set on one thing. He does not hesitate to take matters into his own hands and jump into action. That’s especially true of his younger self who would rebel instead of do nothing, his older and wiser self after he is reborn is a bit more circumspect and knows when to speak out and when to hold his peace. Non-action is seen as the guiding principle of an ideal ruler, without the interference of government meddling, the state would (hypothetically) flourish on its own. I’ve seen some good meta on both the Chinese and the English-speaking sides of the fandom that makes good arguments that it’s actually Lan Xichen who personifies best this concept (x). Speaking of other characters from MDZS that parallel Taoist parables, Nie Huaisang reminds of the good-for-nothing tree which is praised by Zhuangzi. Because it bears no fruit, no one tore its branches to strip the fruits from them, because its wood is of poor quality, no carpenters cut it down. It is left alone and it is able to live long.

The Tao Te Ching (道德经, Daodejing) expounds three basic virtues called the Three Treasures (三宝): compassion (慈), frugality (俭) and humility (不敢为天下先, lit. ‘daring not to put oneself before others’ or ‘daring not to be first in the world’). The first two are for sure among Wei Wuxian’s qualities but the last one is more contentious, not because he is arrogant or boastful but because he dares setting himself apart. The following analysis in from a commentary of the Taoist text:

The third treasure, daring not be at the world's front, is the Taoist way to avoid premature death. To be at the world's front is to expose oneself, to render oneself vulnerable to the world's destructive forces, while to remain behind and to be humble is to allow oneself time to fully ripen and bear fruit. This is a treasure whose secret spring is the fear of losing one's life before one's time. This fear of death, out of a love for life, is indeed the key to Taoist wisdom. (Ellen M. Chen) 

Wei Wuxian did not hesitate to ‘expose himself’ by being willing to be the first practitioner of demonic cultivation and in the end his downfall was at the hands of ‘the world’s destructive forces’, warmongering rumours and bloodthirsty hostility. Wei Wuxian is also not subject to fear of death, there are a few quotes that exemplify his carefree, devil-may-care mindset:

使我徒有身后名不如即时一杯酒。

Better have a cup of wine here and now rather than leave behind a posthumous good name. (ch.75 & Wei Wuxian’s CQL character song Qu Jin Chen Qing)

The quotation above comes from A New Account of the Tales of the World (世说新语), a collection of various anecdotes that was compiled in the 5th century, fittingly it’s from the “The Free and Unrestrained” (任诞) section.

生前哪管身后事，浪得几日是几日。

Why care about what happens after death while one is alive? Better live life to the utmost while one can. (ch.16)

I’m not sure if this one is a literary citation or not as I haven’t been able to track down a quote with this exact wording but it was very reminiscent to me to a chapter of the Liezi (列子), another Taoist text, attributes the following thoughts to the hedonist philosopher Yang Zhu:

One hundred years is the limit of a long life. Not one in a thousand ever attains it. Suppose there is one such person. Infancy and feeble old age take almost half of his time. Rest during sleep at night and what is wasted during the waking hours in the daytime take almost half of that. Pain and sickness, sorrow and suffering, death (of relatives) and worry and fear take almost half of the rest. In the ten and some years that is left, I reckon, there is not one moment in which we can be happy, at ease without worry. This being the case, what is life for? What pleasure is there? For beauty and abundance, that is all. For music and sex, that is all. But the desire for beauty and abundance cannot always be satisfied, and music and sex cannot always be enjoyed. Besides, we are prohibited by punishment and exhorted by rewards, pushed by fame and checked by law. We busily strive for the empty praise which is only temporary, and seek extra glory that would come after death. Being alone ourselves, we pay great care to what our ears hear and what our eyes see, and are much concerned with what is right or wrong for our bodies and minds. Thus we lose the great happiness of the present and cannot give ourselves free rein for a single moment. What is the difference between that and many chains and double prisons?

"Men of great antiquity knew that life meant to be temporarily present and death meant to be temporarily away. Therefore they acted as they pleased and did not turn away from what they naturally desired. They would not give up what could amuse their own persons at the time. Therefore they were not exhorted by fame. They roamed as their nature directed and would not be at odds with anything. They did not care for a name after death and therefore punishment never touched them. They took no heed of fame, being ahead or being behind, or the span of life."

The myriad creatures are different in life but the same in death. In life they may be worthy or stupid, honorable or humble. This is where they differ. In death they all stink, rot, disintegrate, and disappear. This is where they are the same. [...] The man of virtue and the sage die; the wicked and the stupid also die. In life they were Yao and Shun [sage-emperors]; in death they are rotten bones. In life they were Jie and Zhou [wicked kings]; in death they are rotten bones. Thus they all became rotten bones just the same. Who knows their difference? Let us enjoy our present life. Why should we worry about what comes after death?” (A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy, trans. Wing-tsit Chan)

It’s quite a long extract so I highlighted the most relevant parts that echo Wei Wuxian’s ideas and in particular his motto in life:

是非在己，毁誉由人，得失不论 。

Right and wrong are decided by oneself, praise and condemnation depend on others, gains and losses are insignificant. (ch.75)

This is for me the defining quote of the novel that encapsulates the overarching theme of the story. This sentence is so popular that it’s the go-to quote on Wei Wuxian-related merch and it also features on the cover of the book in simplified Chinese.

We find in the Yang Zhu chapter of the Liezi the same ‘carpe diem’ attitude, the nonchalance about death, the disregard of social conventions and the futility of reputation. Nevertheless, Yang Zhu does not exactly have a place with other Taoist thinkers as he promotes acting in self-interest, a form of ethical egotism that does not take heed of other people’s benefit. The translator from the extract above calls it ‘negative Taoism’. As we are well aware, Wei Wuxian has a much more benevolent and altruistic outlook:

我娘说过的，你要记着别人对你的好，不要去记你对别人的好。人心里不要装那么多东西，这样才会快活自在。

My mom said that you should remember the kindness you received from others and not the kindness you gave. That's the only way to find happiness and be free as the heart can only carry so much. (ch.113)

Wei Wuxian’s life philosophy is about remembering the good you've been granted and keep giving without expecting anything in return. If you let yourself to be fettered by bad memories, if you dwell on the past, negative feelings like anger and envy will take roots in your heart. It takes great courage and integrity to be able to move on from painful experiences without holding grudges and retain the ability to greet the future with a smile.

These themes remind me of the lyrics of the song Enlightenment (悟) from the film Shaolin,《新少林寺》, it’s a moving song that draws a lot from Buddhist influences:

为何君视而不见 规矩定方圆

Why do you look without seeing and let conventions decide the rules?

悟性 悟觉 悟空 心甘情愿

I open my heart, coming to my senses and awakening to emptiness

放下 颠倒梦想 放下云烟

Let go of your confused dreams, let go of the things fleeting like mist

放下 空欲色 放下悬念

Let go of idleness, desire, pleasure, let go of the trouble weighting your heart

多一物 却添了 太多危险

One thing more adds too much danger

少一物 贪嗔痴 会少一点

One thing less and vices will be alleviated [lit. ‘greed, aversion, delusion’, the Three Poisons in Buddhism]

唯有 心无挂碍 成就大愿

Only with a heart without worries can your wishes be accomplished

唯有 心无故 妙不可言

There is no greater marvel than an unburdened heart

This ended up to be such a long-winded and maybe inconclusive answer but to me, Taoism, Buddhism and Confucianism, have all deeply shaped Chinese customs, ideas and culture with sometimes no clear boundaries where one begins and the other ends. Wei Wuxian’s ideals, his free-spiritedness and his probity, are reflected in these different schools of thoughts and spiritual currents but there is not a single all-encompassing one that matches him to a tee. In the end, what perhaps defines him best is his name that befits his nature, Wei Ying, the guileless innocence of a child, someone who can cheerfully go through life with a clear conscience and an unburdened heart.

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

12C, part 12

Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6 |   Part 7 |   Part 8 |   Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 |

Tag List: @deluxewhump @whumpinggrounds @yet-another-heathen   @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog  @killtheprotagonist

Content Warnings:  immortal whumpee, lady whumpee, captivity, lab whump, dehydration, starvation, exhaustion, temporary character death, sort of dehumanization? or perhaps better stated as disregard for ones humanity

Author’s Notes: I call this chapter ‘I have no clue what I’m doing but I’m trying’. Brought to you by 6 lovely souls. :) Usually I do a deeper edit of these but I’m feeling lazy tonight and really want to get this one up so I can move forward. I was also a little writer’s blocked this week so apologies if it’s not my best work. :\

Also, I think I might post the next set of parts under a new title...picking up where this leaves off, of course! But there’s something nice and complete about there being 12 ‘chapters’ to this, and as you’ll see, the title being named for the room might not apply anymore. ;)  So if you’re on this tag list or watching this series don’t be alarmed if suddenly a new title is there when the next part pops up.

----

Emmeline has been gone before - taken away for testing or left somewhere overnight so they can check for results in the morning.

But this is different.

Everything is gone. The table, the equipment, everything except the camera in the corner. The room is completely dark and empty.

Liv pulls out her clipboard and flips to her page for the room - or, she would, if it was there. She hasn’t been given any checklist, any notes, anything for room 12C. It’s as though no one was ever there.

Slowly she backs out of the room and shuts and locks the door. In her mind she begins frantically skimming through every moment of the day she can remember. Did anyone look at her differently? Say something to her?

This has to be my fault somehow.

Right?

And yet, no one called her to an office or confronted her in the hallway. She came in to work and went about her day as usual. Surely if they suspected her of tampering with a subject, or any other violation, they would take action immediately?

Unless Emmeline is being punished instead of me.

But where is she?

Liv goes through her final routine tasks of the night on autopilot, her mind turning over every worst possible scenario.

Maybe Emmeline was taken to another lab. Maybe there’s an even more top-secret level to this lab that she has no idea about. Or maybe...maybe that bastard Dr. Crafton did something with her…

An additional thought creeps in that Liv refuses to dwell on.

What if she died for good this time?

But that can’t be true. Even at her most fearful and cynical, Liv can’t comprehend the tragedy of Emmeline’s light being snuffed out in this prison after hanging on so long.

She has to be alive somewhere. Suffering, scared, but alive.

But where?

----

In the days that follow Liv performs her magnum opus of pretending things are fine.

On the surface she’s as calm, quiet, and moody as always. Inside she’s constantly paranoid, expecting to be confronted at every turn, pulled into an office and questioned. She’s wary of the researchers and of security, even of her own boss. She over analyzes every look and interaction.

But one, two, three days into the week and nothing has changed except Emmeline being gone and, as of Wednesday evening, a new resident in room 12C. The balancing act in Liv’s mind between ‘I’m so fucked’ and ‘where is Emmeline’ tips in favor of the latter. It’s not as though she can ask someone. So she starts simply...listening.

Her late hours are an obstacle; most of the researchers have left by the time she starts cleaning. But the ones that sometimes stay over tend to be the chattiest when they believe no staff - at least, in their mind, no staff worth acknowledging - are present.

It takes caution and patience, but soon from observations and overheard conversations with her headphones in, Liv manages to piece together what happened.

There are whispers of new subjects, more than they have room for. Frustrated complaints of how the ‘research’ with Emmeline was going nowhere, of failed blood transfusions and transplants. ‘Fascinating but useless’ was how one of them put it. Without results the funding would soon dry up, but selling her to a competitor would be disastrous if the competitor had success where they didn’t.

But that’s as far as Liv gets. A why without a where. They don’t have a room for her or funding to continue research, but they won’t sell her. In a better world they’d let her go, but Liv doesn’t humor that idea for a second.

Her suspicions still linger on Dr. Crafton a little while longer. Considering his newfound enjoyment of torture, she wouldn’t put it past him to ‘volunteer’ to move Emmeline to a private lab of his or something.

This soon disproves itself for her. In the fleeting moments she sees Dr. Crafton he seems irritable, not at all like a man who got exactly what he wanted. Then one evening she overhears him griping about the ‘wasted potential’ of the former subject in 12C and Liv is sure he doesn’t have her.

Any satisfaction she gets from these discoveries is quickly dulled by still not knowing where Emmeline is. Liv keeps showing up, keeps hoping, does her work in spite of the gnawing ache of Emmeline’s absence. All this time Liv was trying to help and comfort her, she didn’t realize how much of a help and comfort Emmeline was in return.

I just want to see her again...

----

A week passes, and then another. Liv still listens, still keeps an eye out, but her hope is fading. No one notices, of course. She was always a little sullen, always kept to herself. As long as she continues to be a good worker, no one bothers her or questions her.

That night is particularly quiet. Most subjects are asleep or keep to themselves. Even the chatty guards in Hall A are bored and end up listening to a sports radio show rather than talk to each other or Liv.

Near the end of her shift Liv makes her way to that floor’s storage room. It’s a small, dingy room with a single lightbulb that barely illuminates all of the shelves that line the walls. Nothing important resides here - not samples or expensive medical equipment. Only cleaning supplies, tools for maintenance, a handful of basic first aid, and obsolete equipment gathering dust, some of which might be older than the building itself.

Normally Liv prefers the supply room on the floor above; it’s a little bigger, a little cleaner. But tonight she’s feeling lazy and settles for this one.

As she’s putting things back on the shelves, she notices something pushed back against the far wall that wasn’t here before. It’s just a crate, long and sturdy but unremarkable. But what piques Liv’s curiosity is its presence here at all. No one uses this room except her, the janitor who fills in on nights she’s off, and sometimes maintenance. Maybe one of the researchers might come looking for something they need, but more often than not this room sits neglected.

Liv kneels beside the crate and feels around for a way to open it. She finds a latch and unclasps it easily, then manages to wiggle the lid up enough to get her fingers under. It isn’t even on that tight, and it only takes a couple pulls to lift it open.

What the fuck?!

She gasps and recoils, falling back and scrambling away from the crate, breathing quickly. Not much gets to her around here, but she was not expecting to open that thing and find a dead body.

Once the initial shock subsides she sits up and brushes her hands on her jeans. This doesn’t make sense. Subjects that die are given autopsies and then incinerated. If it’s here in the facility, why isn’t it in a lab room?

Shaken but determined, Liv scoots closer to the crate and peers in again. It’s hard to make out much in the dim light, but she can tell that the body is...fresh, for lack of a better word, and padded with some kind of loose packing material. She moves up along the box, having to tilt a little to keep her own shadow from blocking her view so she can see the face - 

For several long, silent moments, Liv just...stares. She blinks against the darkness, trying to process what she’s seeing.

“Emmeline?” she says aloud, barely recognizing her own voice. Hands shaking, she takes out her phone and turns on the flashlight.

The face illuminated by the light, gaunt and lifeless, is unmistakably Emmeline’s.

Liv quickly turns off the flashlight and puts her hand over her mouth to suppress a sound of...of…

Of what?

Relief that she found her, or fear that she’s dead dead, or disgust that they stuck her in a box in a storage room like nothing more than a piece of old equipment.

There are too many questions going through her mind and she pushes them all aside. She reaches a shaky hand down and cups Emmeline’s face. It’s cool to the touch, but Liv has seen her share of dead bodies before and something about this is...different. Like her body is lingering in some state between life and death, simply dormant. It’s just a half-assed theory, but it gives her hope.

Liv brushes her thumb over Emmeline’s lips, finding them chapped. There isn’t a mark on Emmeline’s body, and any drugs to put her under would have worn off by now. The most obvious and awful conclusion is that they simply let her die naturally of dehydration, alone in the dark.

A tear slips from Liv’s cheek onto Emmeline’s neck and trickles down out of sight. Liv sits back with a loud sniff and rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “You deserve better than this…”

She slips her hoodie off and leans forward again, draping it like a blanket over Emmeline. Like this, it’s almost easy to believe that she’s just sleeping.

“It’s going to be okay,” she says numbly, “somehow.”

Then she puts the lid back on, stands, and leaves the room.

----

In the time between when she leaves after discovering Emmeline, and when she returns the next day, something shifts in Liv.

The sight of that drawn, still face haunts her dreams. And when she wakes all she can think about is the notion of Emmeline being stored like a piece of furniture only for them to take out and hurt again someday when they have funding or whatever the fuck.

When Emmeline was in one of the lab rooms the idea of trying to help her with guards and cameras around felt impossible. But the storage room...that she can work with.

She waits until the end of her shift before going to the storage room again. She doesn’t even have to act differently or come up with an excuse; she has plenty of legitimate reasons to be in there.

As soon as the door closes behind her she grabs her water bottle from her cart and goes right to the crate. She opens it cautiously, as though not wanting to startle its occupant. But Emmeline hasn’t moved an inch or changed in the slightest since last night.

“Hey,” she says quietly, just like she would when entering room 12C. It feels natural even if Emmeline doesn’t answer.

Liv leans over the crate and tips the water bottle to Emmeline’s lips. She lets just the smallest trickle of water slip in at first, then another, then another. Nothing happens right away, but Liv isn’t deterred. She has no idea how her immortality works, but Emmeline has been ‘dead’ for days now, surely it will take more than a couple sips of water for her body to heal.

She leans one arm on the edge of the crate and rests her chin on her arm. With the other hand she continues slowly pouring water down Emmeline’s parched throat, a little at a time. Pour. Stop. Wait. Look for signs of life. Pour again.

It feels a bit like watering a plant, and also not at all like that. Emmeline is not nearly so replaceable.

When the bottle is empty, she caps it and sits up with a sigh, stretching her stiff shoulders. She can’t help feeling disappointed. She was expecting something to happen. But it’s okay - if it takes time, so be it.

Just as Liv is reaching for the lid, she hears a soft sound. She freezes, arms out, listening intently. It wouldn’t surprise her if it was a rat or something, with the state of this room…

Several silent seconds tick by and she’s starting to believe she imagined it when the sound happens again. A little louder...and close…

Heart pounding, she looks down into the crate. At first glance nothing has changed, but the longer she looks...yes. Yes, she’s sure of it - her hoodie, still draped over Emmeline, is moving ever so slightly with barely-there breaths. When Liv presses her fingers to Emmeline’s wrist, she finds a weak pulse.

Oh my god. Oh my god, it worked.

The soft sound comes again and it is now clear that it’s the sound of a sighing breath. Triumphant as she feels at having done something right for a change, Liv knows things are far from good. Emmeline is in bad shape. This is going to take time.

Liv touches Emmeline’s arm for a moment, watching her face. Little changes apart from the puffs of breath that now escape her chapped lips, but it feels like a victory. Not to mention a big fuck you to the researchers.

“Hang in there,” she whispers. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

It kills her to have to put the lid back on and leave Emmeline in the dark like that. The best she can hope for is that she remains unconscious a little longer. Liv is impatient, she wants to make this all better right now. But for both of their sakes, patience is necessary.

Hang in there, she tells herself, as well.

----

Part of being patient means not going back to the storage room every night. She used to barely use it at all, and she fears too sudden a change in her behavior will draw unwanted attention. It’s one of the hardest things she has ever done, to walk past that room knowing Emmeline is inside and then keep walking.

Still, Liv manages to hold out for a few days before returning. She parks her cart just inside the storage room door; she doubts anyone will enter, but if they do, the obstacle might buy her some time to quickly close the crate.

Emmeline is no longer breathing. Liv expected as much, but it hurts all the same. This time, though. This time will be different.

Once again she feeds her sips of water and soon enough there are signs of life. This time, Liv is prepared with another bottle - this one filled with apple juice.

She cups Emmeline’s head and lifts it a little to give her a sip of the juice. Another, then another. Slow, patient, hopeful. Emmeline’s pulse grows stronger, her breathing more steady.

And then she moans, and it’s a weak, pitiful, broken sound, but Liv is so damn relieved to hear it, because it means she is that much closer to waking.

Liv continues giving her sips of juice, watching her throat bob as she actively swallows it. Suddenly she begins to cough and it startles Liv so much she nearly spills the juice all over her. She quickly pulls the bottle away and sets it aside, her eyes fixed on Emmeline.

Emmeline’s coughs fade into raspy breaths. She groans and shifts uncomfortably. Then finally, finally, her eyes slowly open.

She’s frail and shaky. Her glazed-over eyes flick around, uncomprehending. Her mouth opens as though to speak, but when she tries nothing comes out.

“Emmeline?” Liv says, very quietly.

At the sound of her name, Emmeline’s eyes land on Liv. The recognition on her face is immediate, and Liv can’t help but smile.

“Hey. It’s just me. Here...”

She holds the bottle to her lips again and Emmeline drinks eagerly.

“Careful, not too fast...that’s better...okay I’m going to take it away again, I don’t want you to overdo it…”

She sets the bottle aside again while Emmeline gasps for breath after practically chugging the whole thing down. Liv can’t blame her, and hates to deny her what she so desperately needs, but she also doesn’t want to make her sick.

“Just breathe. You’re okay.” Relatively. “I’ll give you more in a minute.” She reaches down and takes Emmeline’s hand.

“Where…” Emmeline’s voice cracks. She pauses, swallows, starts again. “Where am I?”

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“...good.”

“The good news is you aren’t in the lab.” Liv gives her a moment to process that before regretfully adding, “the bad news is that you’re still in the building. In...a storage closet.”

Emmeline blinks slowly up at the ceiling, her brow pinched. “What?”

She shifts again and Liv realizes that she’s trying to sit up. Liv instinctively reaches to help, putting a hand on Emmeline’s back - only to withdraw when Emmeline gasps.

“S-sorry, I was just - “

“No,” Emmeline interrupts. “Please - put it back, it was warm…”

Liv remembers how cold Emmeline’s skin was when she found her like this, and this room is just as chilly as the lab. She slowly settles her hand on Emmeline’s back again and helps her ease herself up. It’s hard to resist the urge to touch more - a hand in her hair, an arm around her shoulders - but she doesn’t know whether it would be welcome.

But Emmeline is shivering and she has to do something.

“Here…” she takes the hoodie that has been acting as a blanket for Emmeline these past few days and slips it around her shoulders. “Arms.” Emmeline obediently slips her arms through the sleeves.

When Liv zips it up Emmeline curls her arms up to her chest and presses her face into the cuffs of the sleeves. “Thank you, this is - oh - “

Emmeline’s eyes flutter shut and she sways, nearly dropping back into the crate. Liv steadies her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Shit...hey, breathe, you’re okay…” Maybe sitting her up so quickly wasn’t the best idea.

Taking slow breaths, Emmeline opens her eyes again. She looks so tired in spite of being under for so long. But then, she’s been denied food, water, warmth, proper rest, safety, and the type of weariness living like that brings is bone-deep and not so easily solved.

Her eyes dart around the room - from the old metal shelves to the dim lightbulb to the concrete floor, and heartbroken understanding falls over her face.

“When they put me in this box,” she whispers, looking so empty, so resigned, “I thought they were moving me somewhere. Maybe another lab. I thought within a day or two the lid would come off. But it never did. It was so dark and cold and...and you weren’t there, and…” her lip quivers and she clutches at the cuffs of the hoodie. “I was scared…”

Liv swallows around the lump in her throat, feeling her eyes burn. Those fucking bastards. “I thought they took you away too, at first. Finding you was...kind of by accident. But now that I have...” she steels herself, knowing once she says this, there’s no going back. “...I’m getting you out of here.”

Emmeline looks to her, eyes wide and tentatively hopeful. “You are?”

Liv chews her bottom lip and nods. “I have a plan. I just need you to hang in there a little longer…”

“I can do that,” Emmeline replies, voice wavering. “Please just be careful…”

“I will.”

Emmeline looks half about to cry, half about to pass out. Liv gently nudges at her shoulders, easing her back down into the crate.

“Please don’t take the shirt,” Emmeline whispers as her eyes close.

“I won’t,” Liv promises. “It’s yours now.”

“Thank you…”

A tear slips down her cheek and Liv brushes it away with her thumb. She leaves her hand there a moment for Emmeline to lean into, seeking out every small bit of comfort she can get. Liv wants to give her more, so much more, but she can’t. Not here. Not yet.

“I’ll be back,” she promises as she reaches for the lid. “Just hang on a little longer,” she adds as she lowers it, cloaking Emmeline’s sleeping form in darkness once more.

[silent-scythe]

Roses & Mirrors - Chapter I

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: mild cursing, self hate, alcohol abuse

• ──────✧✦✧────── •

“Il la voit partout

Il l'attend debout”

༺༻

“Have you finished packing?” 

Nesta Archeron turned to glare at the male at her doorway, her spine rigid and her fists clenched. She wore a simple, thin nightgown, a grayish-beige one that went down to her knees.

“Pack?” she spat, as if the word was the most poisonous thing in the world, second only to his cursed name. 

“The-” he started.

“The gray, drab clothes you dislike?” she finished for him. “The alcohol your High Lady forbade me from drinking?”

Cassian lowered his head ever so slightly, looking towards the left. A few strands of wind-kissed hair fell forwards, framing his face. His eyes fluttered with barely restrained exasperation, and Nesta inwardly berated herself for taking note of his long eyelashes. 

“You know there’s more than that,” he said at last, looking up to meet her gaze. “And if you forget something, we won’t be able to come back to Velaris to get it.”

Nesta sneered derisively. As if she possessed anything of value, as if her slanted and damp apartment was actually worth anything. There was nothing here save for empty whiskey bottles, a crooked and unmade bed, an unused bathtub, and whatever other things were required to be in the most basic apartment possible. And in the air was the scent of a Fae male from last night that she was sure Cassian could smell, from the cross expression he had given when he arrived. Nesta was not sorry in the slightest.

She liked to think of herself as a shattered mirror, one whose surface casted a distorted and haunting reflection of her too-skinny bones, sunken cheeks, and bruised-looking eye bags. The pieces of this mirror lay scattered, each accompanied with a tale she was too lazy and too afraid to pick back up. What use would it be if she did indeed collect the shards? They would simply slip from her cold, trembling fingers, back onto the ground, perhaps splintering into more fragments, which was just more for her to pick up. Either way, the mirror was destroyed. Put it back together and you’d still see the cracks. 

Death and darkness did her bidding, yet she found herself to be nothing but glass; broken yet sharp, the metaphor disgustingly ironic. 

She took two steps forward, towards the Illyrian, and from his reaction- which was hidden, although she had a knack for assessing emotions that seemed ever present, even when she was only half sober- she surmised that he had not expected her to respond. 

“I won’t forget anything,” she replied, “because I have nothing to forget.”

Her lips curled back into a cruel smile as she raised her right hand, holding a small purse made of snakeskin. She gave it one shake, and the coins’ clinking noise could be heard. “Unless you count your High Lady’s charity.”

༺༻

Nesta heard the chirp of a bird and she looked up, eyes leaving the pages of her book. 

She watched as the bird flew higher and higher, until she could no longer see it, then turned her gaze to the ground. 

The sunset reflected onto the fresh snow outside Cassian’s cabin, illuminating it with blindingly white light, stark against the backdrop of jagged mountains that stood proudly, reaching towards the sky.

Illyria is beautiful, Nesta thought. At least, Illyrian nature is.

Nesta was no fool. She might’ve thought winter was pretty, but she knew precisely how harsh it was for the less-privileged Illyrians, especially unfortunate children and females. On their flight here, Cassian had explained just the basics, but Nesta felt as if she were a hellcat, bristling and snapping when he mentioned the backwards treatment of the females. 

They were supposed to land in Windhaven. The name rang a bell in her head, and she realized it was the camp led by Devlon, who she remembered as little more than a pathetic asshole. 

“Windhaven, like most other Illyrian camps, have banned wing clipping, but discrimination against females is still unfortunately existent,” he had said carefully, his tone soft, as if she were a young doe in the woods. There was true sorrow and anger on his face. She knew Cassian was proud to be Illyrian, proud of Illyrian culture, although clearly he didn’t condone this part in the slightest.  

Nesta remained silent, waiting for him to continue. 

“Wing clipping was outlawed by Rhys centuries ago, although in some rural camps, it’s still done.”

Nesta didn’t bother to ask for an explanation as to what wing clipping was; she could infer enough from the term itself. 

“The war has caused a lot of unrest. We’ve worked against the misogyny in the camps, but the discrimination is rooted deeply. It is not present in true Illyrian culture whatsoever, but the sexism has been here for so long that few accept any other ideology. Not only that, many families are angered at the way they are treated by the Night Court and the fact that so many died in the war.”

He seemed hesitant to go on, and Nesta narrowed her eyes, despite the fact that she wasn’t looking at his face. She waited expectantly for him to explain, although he seemed to refrain from giving any further explanation. 

“There is a lot of civil unrest in Illyria right now. Be careful,” was all he ended up saying.

The rest of their flight was spent in silence, Cassian focused on flying and Nesta ignoring the warmth and comfort she felt in his embrace. 

Now, as she watched the sun succumb to night’s darkness, sinking behind the mountains, she shivered. The house was insulated enough, but it was only the beginning of winter, and she was well aware that the winter nights of Illyria were not cozy in the slightest.

She hated to admit it, but she did miss Cassian’s warmth, even if she wanted nothing more than to strangle that bastard and run away from this place until she was as far from here as possible.

Nesta frowned at her conflicting emotions, closing her book shut with a snap. She had gone nearly twenty hours without alcohol, and she was not used to her feelings being so prominent, preferring the numb fuzziness of inebriation. 

Cassian being a living heater was not an option. Fire was not an option, and asking for anything was definitely not an option either. That left her with only one choice, which would be to suffer in silence. 

The cabin was different from her predictions. She had expected either a small and broken house, similar to her apartment, or something obnoxiously grand like the House of Wind. It was neither.

The cabin was made from some sort of sturdy wood, varying in shades of brown, some dark and some lighter. Nesta had begrudgingly come to the conclusion that she liked the cabin itself despite its owner and occupants. The house had many rooms, some of which Nesta had yet to explore. There was a dining room, kitchen, living room, and bathroom near the entrance. Near the back of the house was a hallway, with bedrooms, more bathrooms, a study, and some other rooms that she didn’t yet know the purpose of. The single-floored cabin was designed in such a way that all the bedrooms were in the middle of the house, surrounded by other rooms. 

Immediately after arriving in the cabin, Cassian had unpacked and went to go buy some supplies, which was abnormally vague, but Nesta didn’t question him further lest she presented herself as actually caring about that bastard. Nesta stayed in the study for nearly an hour; in it was a desk with a few papers, which she assumed were Cassian’s, and besides that, it was shelves upon shelves of books. There were way more than she expected, for she swore the cabin looked tiny from the outside. Most of the books were ancient tomes of war strategy, which Nesta regarded with a snort, but she did find a section of fiction. And after some time, she managed to find two books she was somewhat interested in.

She had headed straight to her bedroom. It was simple and undecorated, connected to a bathroom, and had a bed and two nightstands both with lamps. The closet and drawers remained empty. She left the little snakeskin pouch on the left nightstand, close to the door, and her books on the right side of the bed. She really didn’t like the novels all that much, but she had nothing to do in this cursed place. 

After absentmindedly recalling earlier events, she yawned and returned to the present for a few fleeting minutes, moving to put her book back onto the nightstand before withdrawing inside herself and staring at the wall until all the damned light in her room leached out of the window, the dying light turning the shadows into dancing ghosts.

Minutes- or maybe hours, for she did not care to keep track of time- later, she heard the creak of a door and a few thumps; most likely Cassian dropping things onto the kitchen counter or the floor.

“Nesta?” came his voice, drifting up the stairs. “Nesta, I’m home,” he called. 

She did not deign to offer him a reply. In fact, nothing about her posture remotely indicated that she heard anything. 

Footsteps sounded, and sooner than she liked, they drew closer until they stopped before her door. “Nesta, I know you’re in there,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I know you’re frustrated with the situation.” 

Oh, frustrated, how interesting, she inwardly sneered. Frustrated, what a simple term to describe me. As if I chose to be in Illyria.

“I’m not going to make you talk to me all day, but- could you at least come out every day to eat dinner?”

Nesta continued to stare at the wall. “No.”

“Nesta-”

“I said no. Unless you would like to further intrude in my life and invalidate my decisions?”

She could hear Cassian’s sigh from behind the door. “Fine, we can compromise. Eat in the kitchen just for today so that we can talk.”

“Just for today,” Nesta responded, voice clipped. “Don’t expect any more.” 

His footsteps disappeared into silence, and when Nesta was sure he was gone, she let her guard down and once more let her mind suck her into an empty black void of self-deprecating thoughts, both too full and too vacant at the same time. 

Nesta missed the whiskey that burned as it fell down her throat. She did not turn on the lamps. Soon, the darkness of her bedroom became akin to the phantoms in her mind, and she let herself wander once more in the mist, fumbling for shards of a mirror, only to step on them and bleed. 

༺༻

Nesta didn’t eat much. It surprised her that Cassian could cook, but she didn’t let her revelation show. He had given her a plate of some Illyrian dish that she didn’t recognize, and a bowl of broth. Nesta would’ve found both delicious, had she not been prior starving herself to the point where anything more than the bare minimum was too much. Thus, she had drunk only half the broth and taken a few bites of the dish before setting down her fork. 

Cassian, to her relief, did not comment on how little she ate, although she did not miss his gaze edged with worry that flickered her way many times throughout. 

Their dinner was in silence, one that wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable but also far from comfortable. It was filled with tension, like a rope pulled taut, waiting to be cut. There was no conversation or banter between them, and Nesta was content to keep it that way.

Cassian cleared his throat. Nesta immediately stiffened and she felt her walls go back up; walls of stone around her heart and tall bushes of prickly roses around her mind. 

“May I ask a question?” he asked. 

Nesta’s previous relief was short-lived at his words, and she felt annoyance wash over her. She knew Cassian well enough to know he would only say that if his question was about a heavier subject, sensitive, or in any other way displeased Nesta. 

“Only if I can ask one in return,” she answered at last. A thought for a thought, a truth for a truth. 

Cassian raised an eyebrow, a small grin flashing across his face, likely surprised and pleased that she was actually engaging in any sort of conversation, but he made no taunt. 

“Okay. I’ll ask first,” he said, expression settling back into one of seriousness. Cassian swallowed, a short sigh escaping him. “Nesta. I want to ask you this for your own good. I know that this is private to you, but-” 

“Get on with it,” Nesta snapped. “I have no need for your monologue.” 

Cassian nodded. “Alright, then. Do you have any triggers? If so, what are they? I just want to make sure that I don’t accidentally trigger you, or make you uncomfortable…”

His voice trailed off in uncertainty, another thing the bastard rarely did. 

Nesta hated the inquiry, half wanting to rip his head off for even having the audacity to ask such a personal question. 

She didn’t want to answer it in the slightest. She did not want to offer that part of herself, a vulnerability, a weakness, a doorway through her stone walls. She knew Cassian had good intentions, but this was her gods-damned privacy. Cassian was nothing in her sad excuse of a life, and he was not entitled to know anything about her. 

On the other hand, Nesta herself had a burning question for Cassian, something that she had pondered over for a while, and now was the perfect time she could ask it. If she gave him an answer, he had to give one back. 

Nesta took a deep breath. “Fire, and water, especially baths,” she said, her tone a shade wobblier than she would have liked. “I cannot stand the crackling sound of fire, or anything where I am submerged, either partially or fully.”

She had left one out, but he didn’t know that. He didn’t need to. 

Cassian took a few seconds to process this, dipping his head once. “Okay. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, and I can get extra blankets-”

“You don’t need to,” she cut him off sharply. 

Cassian didn’t respond to that, knowing better than to push further. A heavy and unpleasant pause hovered between them for a moment before she continued.

“My turn. What is going on between you, Azriel, and Morrigan?”

Nesta was blunt and straightforward as always. She did not bother sounding pleasant. 

Cassian visibly flinched, shadows crawling over his eyes. “Nesta, I’m not sure that’s something I should say.” 

“Not sure?” Nesta countered. “Or do you just not want to? You promised a question for a question, or can you not hold yourself accountable for this promise either?”

Cassian’s jaw tightened and his hazel eyes hardened, clearly knowing exactly what Nesta had referenced. He crossed his arms, wings flaring for a second before settling, a telltale sign of his uneasiness. 

“Fine. I’m going to make this as brief as possible,” he said. “Kier wanted Mor to marry Eris Vanserra so that he could forge an alliance between the two courts. Mor didn’t want to marry Eris and asked me to take her virginity so that Eris would no longer want her. Azriel loves Mor and Mor has not openly shown any feelings towards Azriel, nor has she rejected him. I’m not going to say any more than that. This whole thing involves them both and it is not my place to spill secrets they might not want me to share.” 

Nesta’s livid eyes narrowed, and Cassian could’ve sworn a flame ignited in them, swirling as it arose from the ashes. “So what you’re saying is that the three of you, as centuries old Fae, have not been able to resolve an incident that happened five hundred years ago?”

Cassian let out a sigh. “No-”

“No? You and Morrigan are not in a romantic relationship, have no interest in each other, and yet you give her lingerie?” 

Cassian stiffened at that, nostrils flaring. “What? Nesta, how and why does this tie into Solstice?” 

Nesta didn’t bother answering, only pressing on, temper rising, the fire in her gaze burning brighter. “And you’re also okay with Morrigan using you?” 

Cassian got up from his chair, clearly agitated. “Nesta,” he snapped. “Mor did not use me. Don’t insult her like that. I-”

“Did not?” Nesta shot back, scoffing. “Do you even hear yourself? Morrigan could have fucked anybody yet she chose you because of your background and upbringing. And now she uses you as a barrier between her and Azriel. Can you not see the toxicity? This is ridiculously unbelievable.” Her eyes blazed with a raging, devastating intensity. 

“I told you this already, Nesta,” he said, his voice low and firm. Nesta reminded him of a snake, striking swift, and right where it hurt. “Don’t insult Mor like that, she is a close friend of mine, and-”

Nesta rolled her eyes at that. 

“-and look, I don’t want to argue, not over this.”

“You’re the one who started this damn argument.”

“Nesta, now that you said something in opposition again, you’re also still arguing with me.”

Both glared at each other fiercely, like fire on fire. Neither relented until Cassian finally tore his eyes away, fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose. 

Just as Cassian sank back onto his chair with a defeated huff, Nesta stood up, ever the epitome of elegance. 

“I’m done.”

Cassian opened his mouth. 

“Don’t talk to me.”

With that, Nesta turned around and left the table, steps measured, chin neither raised nor lowered. The silver flames in her eyes extinguished and replaced itself with ghosts.

• ──────✧✦✧────── •

First chapter of Roses & Mirrors is finally up! I’ll be trying to write a chapter and upload it every other weekend (so bi-weekly updates), however, depending on the time I have, it may take longer for me to update. 

I don’t particularly like editing stories, so this is very minimally edited. If you find any mistakes, typos, or inconsistencies, don’t hesitate to point them out! 

This first chapter was kind of boring, I had to set everything up so nothing that exciting has happened yet. Just so y’all know, there won’t really be much action (like battling and such) in this fanfiction, it’s more focused on Nesta and Cassian’s relationship. Because I only have 7 chapters planned, this will probably be a faster-paced book in regards to how their relationship progresses. 

I think Nesta’s emotions in this chapter are sort of all over the place, which is what I intended, although it comes off as messy. To me, Nesta isn’t a character that is always stuck in deep depression, I believe that occasionally she will be happier than other times. I also believe that alcohol helps numb her emotions and since she is forced to be sober, it also contributes to why she’s all over the place. 

As for why I have only seven chapters planned, it’s because I took seven lyrics out of the song Love Story by Indila. I think the song itself talks about a relationship different from Nessian, but I took the lyrics since I think it fits them. I then used the lyrics i took to plan out this fanfiction. The lyrics in this chapter are, “he sees her everywhere - standing, he is waiting for her.” (I am not French, please tell me if this translation is inaccurate!)

Wow this is a long author’s note. Thank you all for reading, comments are muchly appreciated! Taglist is below, if you’d like to be added or removed, feel free to @ me. 

- Scythe

• ──────✧✦✧────── •

Taglist:

@dead-on-the-inside666 @nessian-archeron @greerlunna @sjm-things @sannelovesreading @silvernesta

[imagine-that]

You silently pull yourself through the open window one foot after the other, just barely grazing the windowsill with your bare ankle.

Just as you think you’ve not only managed to get in but also managed to do so with grace, the cuff of your jeans snags on a screw by the window. You tug on your ankle desperately until somehow you pull with too much force and go tumbling to the floor.

“Damn it.” You curse under your breath as you quickly get back up to your feet.

You take a quick look around you, checking your surroundings. When all you see is pristine, perfect organization and no other people, you quickly make your way across the floor and grab the door handle carefully, opening it and slipping into the hall, shutting it back to its initial position as best you can.

You take a brisk walk down the hallway and open up another door and breath a sigh of relief when you see a massive wall filled with dozens of hats. You slip through the doorway and let your fingertips feel the brim of one, admiring the craftsmanship.

Too mesmerized, hypnotized even, you pick it up and place it on your head, though you aren’t fully certain what possessed you to do so.

“Well well. What have we here?” A voice says and you freeze in place, unsure what else you could do.

“Quite the collection you have here.” You comment, nodding to the numerous hats and trying to keep your cool.

He merely moves closer in response. “I believe this is what some would call breaking and entering. I should tell you, I know the local sheriff.” He warns, taking another slow and calculated step towards you.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” You scoff, still making no efforts to face the mystery man. “Everyone knows everyone in Storybrook, it’s kind of hard not to.” You add, smiling to yourself at the thought of not knowing basically everyone in town.

“Ah well I have a feeling she would particularly remember the man who tried to kidnap her.” He says with ease.

You whip around in alarm, the hat still perched on top of your mess of y/h/c hair and your smile fallen and find yourself being backed into a wall.

“I believe that belongs to me.” He says in a low, seductive voice with a lazy grin of his own. “Though it does appear to look much better on you.” He adds smoothly, looking you up and down with the same grin still on his face.

He moves in even closer and you back away, your back hitting the wall as his arm reaches out and he delicately plucks the hat off, settling it back onto his own head.

He slowly moves his hand back towards your face, pushing whisps of your hair behind your ear lightly, his fingertips gently grazing your jawline as he does so. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look right at him.

“Now, I’d like to know what kind of a person breaks into this place when I have had people who nearly died trying to get out.” He says, looking you up and down slowly with a quizzical look.

“The fact that you kidnap people doesn’t scare me psycho.” You inform him stubbornly, yanking your face away from his grasp.

He goes into a low and dark laugh, sounding even more unhinged, something you didn’t realize was possible. “I am not crazy, alright darling?” He insists, a new sharpness to his voice.

“But of course you are.” You say, crossing your arms and keeping your distance.

He jumps up in anger, grabbing a pair of scissors off the table and rushing at you, shoving you against the wall.

“I. Am not. Crazy.” He tells you, his teeth grinding together in fury.

“Alright. Maybe you’re just mad then.” You say, shrugging, you current position of extremely close proximity of no bother to you.

He looks at you in shock, taken aback. He nearly drops the shining silver scissors to the ground.

“What’d you say?” He asks quietly, a suddenly more soft expression replacing the angry one.

“I said mad. Am I right about that Hatter?” You ask with a grin of your own.

“How- what- who are you?” He demands, clearly confused.

“I’d tell you but I kind of like to introduce myself when I’m not pinned against a wall.” You respond, raising a challenging eyebrow with a smile.

He hesitantly backs away but keeps the scissors tightly in hand.

“Why thank you.” You say, taking his hat off his head and bowing with a flourish and tip of the hat before standing straight and placing it back on your own head. “Y/n’s the name.” You tell him.

“Truly a wonderful name for a wonderful person I suppose.” He says with a devilish smirk.

“Do you do that often? Change from mad to charming? It’s intriguing, truly.” You remark, leaning back against his work desk.

“Nevermind that. My name is Jefferson. Now, explain why you’re in my home?” He asks, toying with one of the unfinished hats on the table.

“Alright I suppose I could. Long story short, I’m from wonderland. I was trapped there for a long, long time. My sister wasn’t. She was off by the sea or something. Then, this curse or whatever it is happens and I end up here in Storybrook, basically knowing exactly who I am when it seems no one else does.” You explain with a tired sigh.

You’d gone over the story in your head over and over and over but you felt it seemed more crazy everytime. You feared no one but Henry would ever believe you but here you were.

“It would seem we’re in a similar situation.” He says with a small, bitter laugh. When he notices your intrigued expression, he sighs. “My daughter.... Grace... she was in the enchanted forest waiting for me to return. the evil queen fooled me and left me there for the queen of hearts to deal with.” He elaborates. You nod a bit.

“I know the queen of hearts well. She’s a certain kind of evil.” You tell him, shuddering a bit at the name.

“Don’t I know it.” He mutters. You raise an eyebrow and he pulls down the collar of his shirt without hesitation, refusing to meet your gaze. “Off with his head.” He laughs to himself as he makes his impression of the wicked queen of hearts.

You let your eyes trail the scar going all around his neck and scoff in somewhat disbelief. “She did that to you?” You ask and when he nods sullenly you feel yourself fill with all kinds of rage. “She is a cruel and heartless woman. That I definitely remember.” You growl, sneering at the mere thought of her.

“Yes true but it’s alright I lived. And besides, now I’m here and this seems much worse than having my head chopped off so at least there’s a bright side!” He says with another crazy laugh.

You feel yourself giggling a bit too, unable to help the grin spreading across your face.

“You definitely live up to the name, I’ll tell you that much.” You say with a shake of your head.

He takes a playful bow, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I’m glad. But if you’re from wonderland, who are you? In the... stories I mean.” He asks, gritting his teeth at the word stories.

“I’m surprised you can’t tell from the smile.” You quip with a smirk.

“Ah. The Cheshire Cat then, I presume?” He asks, smirking right back as you nod.

“Didn’t you say you had a sister? Is she also a cat in the fairytale world then?” He asks curiously.

“No she isn’t. Just me. I’m almost like Ruby is in that world. She can change into a wolf involuntarily but I change into a cat whenever I want. It can be quite useful.” You explain with a small shrug.

“Ruby?” He questions and you smile in disbelief.

“Do you not leave this place ever? Never met anyone else?” You ask, fully interested in learning more about the mystery of a man in front of you.

“No, I’d rather not deal with Regina or with seeing my daughter with another family.” He informs you, looking out the window thoughtfully.

“Jefferson, it’s understandable but at some point, you have to leave to be able to get your daughter back.” You inform him and you take quick notice to the smile on his face when you say his name.

“At some point, maybe. But not now. Sorry darling.” He responds with a sad smile. “Now, why exactly did you decide to come and crawl through a second story window in my house kitten?” He asks with another grin.

You feel yourself blushing heavily at the nicknames.

“I came for a hat to get home but clearly if you had it you wouldn’t be here.” You say with a sigh.

“That is correct. I have yet to find my way home, sadly, though I suppose some may call me lucky to have a prison such as this one.” He says with another smirk as he gestures around the room for emphasis.

“Regina is a cruel, cruel woman. I do hope you’re returned to your daughter soon.” You murmur as you stand up, pulling the beautifully crafted tophat off your head.

He looks at you in a mix of surprise, confusion and sadness.

He pushes himself off the wall and saunters over to you, still watching your every movement longingly.

“And where exactly are you going? Not giving up, I hope.” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m going home.” You tell him, placing the hat into his hands. “It’s been a long day.” You add with grin.

You turn to walk away but he jumps in front of you.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He says nervously. You watch him, amused. He carefully places the hat back on your head and tips it off to the side a bit. “Much better. As I said, it suits you. And as you said, I have plenty.” He remarks as he steps back slightly, admiring the view.

You let out a laugh. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. I’ll wear it as often as possible.” You promise as you stand on your toes, placing a quick, delicate kiss on his cheek.

At first, he looks absolutely stunned. Then thrilled. Then he looks hungry for more. And he is, so you learn when he leans in and pushes his lips onto yours, desperately deepening the kiss. You follow his movements, melting into him.

He’s the first to pull away, proving to you once again that he’s unpredictable and full of tricks up his sleeves.

“To think I nearly killed you thief.” He says with a small smirk.

You feel a grin bigger than you’d ever had, even as the Cheshire Cat, spreading across your face.

“That would’ve been an absolute shame. For both of us. Especially considering I didn’t technically steal anything. Except maybe your heart of course.” You respond teasingly and he chuckles a bit.

You turn on your heel, walk towards the door and stop abruptly in the doorway.

“Oh and Jefferson?” You say, looking back at him.

“Yes y/n?” He asks, clearly a little hopeful that you’ll stay, which you find absolutely adorable.

“I’ll be back.” You promise. And then you smirk. “We have a home to get back to.” You add, blowing a kiss to him.

He grins and you grin back, tip your hat to him with a dramatic flair as you know he probably would in this situation and walk out the door.

[wardens-stew]

my review of The Mask Falling - an ode to Arcturus and Paige

For me, the soul of this series has always been the relationship between Paige and Arcturus. It’s apt that this book, the exact middle of the series and as @sshannonauthor​ describes it, its heart, spends so much time with this pair. The intensity and uniqueness of their bond really emerges as the shining jewel of this series.

It’s clear that Samantha Shannon was intentional about putting Arcturus and Paige on equal footing for the first time in The Mask Falling. She manages the power dynamic between them with such attention and nuance, reversing their roles often and fluidly escaping gender roles. The protector role comes naturally to Arcturus, given his immortal strength and anxiety about losing Paige (it’s even part of the etymology of their names), but for much of The Mask Falling he is her silent shadow, trailing being her and supporting her quietly. They negotiate their differences with refreshing candor and in good faith, their arguments free from ego. “My fear is not your cage,” Arcturus tells her. “I will never ask you to mold yourself to it.” His affection for her is empowering, supportive, never constrictive or diminishing. Paige herself is markedly independent, doing the bulk of her fighting and plotting on her own. When she does seek support from Arcturus, there is no sense of her own strength being diminished, and as often as he rescues her, she turns around and rescues him just as easily. 

Indeed, while Arcturus is the immortal god, it is Paige’s power that really shines in this book. Her incredible ingenuity and strength is on full display, getting her out of certain-death scenarios at such a gripping pace I had to cover the pages with my hands to avoid glancing ahead. She couples her incredible powers with extraordinary mental fortitude and an acute conscience; each of her escapades has a satisfying emotional resonance that enlivens her broader quest. Whereas many YA heroines possessed of supernatural power oscillate between immobilizing moral anxiety and moral bankruptcy, Paige tempers her impulsiveness with reason (most of the time) and a powerful motive for justice. It’s clear that she has yet to access the full extent of her abilities, and I’m eager to see what roles she’ll play in the fight to take down Scion. 

While previous installments show Arcturus/Warden on various levels of guardedness, The Mask Falling gives us time and space in excess to see his true character. I was struck by his compassion, his hopefulness despite all that he has endured. He is often reassuring and comforting Paige, his optimism clear-eyed and measured. The contrast is especially stark with his persona in The Bone Season, where he appears cold and calculating, morally gray at best. In this book, he is almost unbearably kind, devastatingly sweet and thoughtful. As Paige remarks, “there was nothing terrible before me now.” The almost unimaginable beauty of his character is achieved with such a soft touch; the books are not about Arcturus being the the epitome of goodness - he simply is. 

A central thread of tension of this book follows Paige and Arcturus negotiating their relationship and coming to terms with their mutual attraction. Samantha Shannon manages this tension beautifully, carrying it forward constantly with poignant moments of intimacy interspersed with Paige’s honest internal dialogue. The smallest interactions and gestures between them felt so heightened. There are all the classic scenes - getting drunk and saying too much, jealousy spirals about past relationships, almost-kiss scenes interrupted, near-death confessions - all building up to a beautiful and satisfying climax. 

Samantha Shannon writes intimacy incredibly well. The love scenes feel specific to the characters, managing to be both meaningful and erotic. Romances between an immortal man and a mortal woman in particular tend to translate the man’s primal instincts and extreme physical strength into a voracious sexual appetite that leaves little room for gentleness and consideration. Arcturus really breaks the mold in this respect. He is so reverent, so sincere, so generous with Paige in a way few male characters with female partners approximate. Rather than relying on an imbalance of power in order to convey eroticism, the sexiness of Arcturus and Paige’s dynamic derives from the equality of their relationship.  It’s so difficult to create a heterosexual romance unsullied by patriarchy, and Samantha Shannon gets close to that here. 

I wonder if it is Arcturus’ immortal nature that makes him such a uniquely engaging character. Samantha Shannon really commits to that aspect of him - he’s not just a hot teenager. The best word I can think of to describe him is mature. He is so beyond the petty concerns of YA love interests, so ego-less and self-reliant. One of my favorite ways he diverges from human men - and traditional male love interests - is his lack of fixation on Paige’s physical appearance. This book has several of the classic moments that would typically elicit a remark or a look from the love interest on the heroine’s appearance, often framed as a cute romantic moment. Yet when Paige dresses up, or dyes her hair - even when she asks him outright - he never comments on the way she looks. “A human might have whispered in my ear, told me I was beautiful or perfect, but not him.” I love that. I’ve never found that lustful, almost predatory demeanor in male love interests nearly as sexy as the author would like it to be, and it always rubs me the wrong way when the man telling the woman she’s beautiful is framed as the epitome of romance. It strikes me as a very lazy way to convey attraction, for one thing, and it reeks of benevolent sexism. Arcturus never plays into those supposedly romantic tropes of disparaging other women in favor of the heroine or being selectively kind. His love for Paige is so pure. 

I continue to be impressed by the sheer scale of worldbuilding in this series. Many books attempt to create fictional tyrannical governments, but few succeed in building one as convincing and elaborate as Scion. The Mask Falling peels back even more layers of this complex world, bringing to fruition seeds planted in the very first book. Although the basic plot leans on some familiar tropes, Samantha Shannon always manages to add an additional twist of the screw. The complexity of this series is truly extraordinary, drawing on etymology and mythology, dropping mysteries and complicating loyalties with incredible dexterity. 

SPOILERS!!!!! --> I am still struggling with Arcturus’s possession and Paige’s failure to connect the dots and realize the reality of his situation. I see Samantha Shannon has pointed out on Twitter that Paige’s trauma and illness may have affected her judgment and decision-making. She says, “There's a particular scene where Paige reacts to an event in a way that is so deeply rooted in her PTSD and past experiences.” (I assume this is the scene she’s referring to.) I think that’s fair - Paige has been so inundated with the Rephaite aversion to humans that it’s almost as if she only needed one piece of evidence to confirm her doubts and destroy her trust in Arcturus. And it’s not as if she just takes it at face value, either - she does question him and try to convince him otherwise. But I still can’t help feeling that it’s a stretch. The Mask Falling makes Arcturus’ character so clear that the prospect that he would be loyal to Nashira the whole time is just ludicrous. Not to mention the fact that Paige somehow overlooked the obvious signs that he was being possessed. His eyes were such a dead giveaway - Paige had already seen that same thing happen when she possessed him! And when he moved to strike her and then suddenly stopped and his eyes flared - come on! That’s a classic mind-control trope. Paige is usually so perceptive, and they had built such a strong foundation… it feels unrealistic that she wouldn’t have connected the dots just because she hadn’t thought there could be another dreamwalker. 

If I had to find fault with this book, and it is difficult, I would say that it leans a little too heavily on some YA dystopian fantasy tropes towards the end - the mind-controlled love interest, for example, instantly made me think of Divergent, The Hunger Games, The Mortal Instruments, etc. Likewise, the forced memory loss is a fairly common fantasy trope that tends to be really frustrating to read. I have faith that Samantha Shannon will keep it from sliding into those tropes, and of course there remains so much mystery still to be untangled from those final 100 pages. /END SPOILERS :) 

This was the kind of book that captivated me immediately, left me lying awake at night and had me eating energy bars for dinner so I could keep reading. It was such a visceral, immersive experience, the kind where returning to the physical reality is almost physically disorienting. It’s been two days since I finished it and I’m still clinging to that fictional world, wishing I didn’t have to leave. Books like these are rare for me, and I’m still marveling at the miracle of finding that book that in Arcturus’ words, exists for everyone: “a book that will sing to them.”

[tiredassmage]

Character Page 𓆰 Brooke

A character page for what is, at its core, something of another au for my main, Astor, buttt... it’s basically bc one day I had a random bought of inspiration and followed through on “what if I came up with a deer-like race for XIV” and... then I spent like two hours making lore for them and listening to whitetail deer noises on YouTube. So! He’s different enough to warrant his own lil page! ^.^ I will try to cover enough of this theoretical lore that things make sense, but hopefully without going... ridiculously overboard and keeping you here for hours over a race of my own brainworms. xD

BASICS ---

Name: Brooke, technically like the water feature “brook,” but, somewhere along the line, someone thought it was spelled with an ‘e’ like the more common rendition of the name, and he did not have enough of an understanding of the written Eorzean Common Tongue to know the difference.

Age: It’s a little hazy, but approximately 28 summers by Shadowbringers

Nameday: 17th sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon

Race: Dryad

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Martial Status: Single(?)

OC Tags: ch: brooke

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ---

Hair: Long, falling down about his mid-shoulders when worn loosely and dark brown. Typically worn with at least one braid, and often pulled back in some sort of fashion. Occasionally braids feathers or flowers into it.

Eyes: A pale crystal blue, almost gray. Often wide, curious, and warm.

Height: 5 fulms, 10 ilms, not accounting for a full grown set of antlers.

Build: Lithe, lean, and long in the legs - all traits rather common among his race. As a fully mature adult, Brooke generally grows in a full antler set featuring an average of 4 points that typically form a generally crescent moon-like shape. The typical adult male Dryad will grow anywhere from 4-6 points, while a female will grow 2-4.

Distinguishing Marks: Much of Brooke is rather... distinguishing, given the rarity of his people to the rest of Eorzea. They are generally a reclusive people, living deep within the woods and mountains from the land, migrating occasionally with the season and food supply, but rarely actually leaving. Given such, it wasn’t until prior to the Calamity that Brooke ventured beyond the bounds of his wooded home deep in the Shroud at the behest of his herd that he came into contact with the outside world. Given the antlers and the fluffy ears and tail, most... didn’t exactly greet him with kindness. He was odd and unlike anyone else most had seen. The Calamity has pushed their survivors from their homes and more into the light, but they’re still a relatively unknown factor. Many regarded him initially with the same judgements and mistrust afforded the beast tribes.

Outside of the physical denotations of his race, the only other marks one might occasionally find that could be helpful are the paints he still tries to find some time to don in honor of his kin and ancestors. Life as an adventurer has taken him further and further from his roots, but no further from his respect for their traditions.

PERSONAL ---

Profession: Brooke initially left his herd, sent by their leader, to act as an emissary to the nation of Gridania in the days leading up to the Calamity. While the details of the time after Cartenau are yet fuzzy to him, he had not intended to abandon his post in the Calamity’s wake. In the world that remains, however, he is unable to ascertain whether any of his herd survived. By lucky chance, he has fallen in with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, lending his strength and mixed arcane knowledge to their fight for peace.

Main Job: Brooke and his people are something of an enigma by standard definitions of magical practice. They are gifted in a wide variety of arts, and their semi-nomadic nature has brought them into contact with various remnants of ages past. In Brooke’s case, the closest standard classification may be Red Magic, as he possesses an affinity with a wide variety of skills typically associated with both White and Black Magic, though, unlike the duelists of the Red, Brooke still prefers to focus his energies through a staff or scepter than a blade.

Hobbies: Gathering is more a standard survival skill of his people than a hobby, so he would hesitate to classify his botanical knowledge and pursuits as such. Instead, he would much prefer to count his reading as his favorite one - particularly into history and prevalent folklore and tales. In his role as emissary, he sought understanding between his people and those sharing the Twelveswood with them, even if they had been doing so unwittingly. Thus, it was only natural he needed to seek an understanding of their customs as well as shed some light on his own. He finds the telling of history and belief systems fascinating, marveling at the many differences and nuances to be found within them.

Languages: Though Brooke possesses the Echo, he still struggles with languages, at times. He has steadily grasped a more firm understanding of the Eorzean Common Tongue, but it would not be wrong to say his Echo granted him a better understanding of the language and intentions of creatures, beasts, and elements than any language of man.

Residence: At times, it is still difficult to feel settled among civilization, but his efforts and work with the Scions have afforded him the security of a small residence within the protection of Gridania. At least the more seasoned adventurers aren’t so prone to gawping at his unusual appearance.

Birthplace: His herd lived somewhere deep within the Twelveswood. After the destruction reigned down by Bahamut though, he has found more malms of it unfamiliar to him than ever, and he cannot even be certain they survived - much less that their home may have.

Religion: Dryads believe in something one might call spirts, more than any gods. They revere natural elements such as wind, water, and earth and pay a deep respect to the balance of these things. Taking more than one needs and reckless destruction are considered sacrilegious to them. They host celebrations for each season, each having a representative and associated elemental spirits of focus - the closest one might find to a pantheon of gods in their beliefs. This is something he has held fast to even in the face of their many adventures.

TRAITS ---

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

PERSONALITY ---

Curious, warm, and soft-spoken, Brooke has a quiet love for life that some might find a little naïve. He’s a deeply passionate individual that does not often find a reason to hide the way he feels. He believes strongly in such things as the beauty of a star-dappled sky or a color-changing sunset. He feels strongly about preserving the ways of his people, finding a nostalgic familiarity in them as he uncovers the world beyond the wood. It has been daunting, at times.

But curiosity has kept spurring him forward. Seeing marvels like airships and linkpearls up close are strange, sometimes terrifying, but incredible experiences.

He endeavors to remain honest to himself and true to his beliefs. He does not believe in turning others away over superficial differences. If one is in need, that should be enough. Where they are from or what creed they follow should not restrict them from aid. It might make him something of an idealist, but if it is foolish to believe in and want such things, then he would gladly be a fool. He tries his best to remain willing to learn, and finds joy in understanding and sharing. He’d gladly listen to someone tell stories for hours, if it would make them happy.

ABOUT --

Born and raised with his herd in the secluded depths of the Twelveswood, Brooke thought and new little of the world beyond the wooded reaches of their herd until he was well along to becoming a young adult. In the brewing chaos of looming calamity, their leader bid him go forth to their neighbors of the wood in Gridania in an attempt to reach an understanding and mutual aid. Such levels of destruction would doom them all, regardless, and she bid them not remain idle and wait for the coming darkness.

The troubling times would provide their own draws and setbacks to opening a dialogue with the Gridanians and their Seedseers, but, ultimately, Brooke would succeed in at least opening these discussions, revealing the Dryads’ presence within Eorzea with certainty and agreeing to aid in the developing struggles against the Garlean Empire.

What, exactly, followed is, as many others have described, something of a blur. The only certainty of the matter was that it left the young Dryad stranded alone in a wholly new and twisted realm that was all just... a bit funny. Familiar in ways... Entirely not in others.

He may just have ran afoul of a little cult. Y’know. Nothing major. Definitely not a voidsent interested in aether. Definitely not his. Or... perhaps he did. And perhaps he’s quite lucky he met an adventurer not keen on letting cultists lurk about in underground tombs or let unsuspecting strangers get turned into voidsent treats. Quite lucky, that! But... all’s well that ends well, right..?

With a little to be desired for a solid sense of direction and purpose, Brooke found himself once again woven into a greater tapestry of fate than he could have ever predicted. There were, thankfully, a few... passingly familiar faces along the way, it seemed, but still little in the way of ascertaining the fate of those he had left behind, grown up with.

But there was still their hope - hope for a better future, for a way forward, the dawn of another day they could enjoy and share with their loved ones. That had always been worth fighting for, so fight for it, he would.

[sunshine304]

I am so so sorry that it took me this long to continue my LoF watching posts! RL, y’know. Ep 26 felt like a good place to take a breather, as well, so that’s what I did.

 Anyway, let’s move on to eps 27 and 28!

It’s exposition time! Zhou Fei and ChuChu are at a tea house and hear about an army deserter who was trained on the Mountain of the Immortals (has this been mentioned before... IDK), was poisoned and became a monk. A-Fei thinks this story sounds familiar (indeed it does, indeed it does...) and ChuChu remembers having read sth like this in a book (the book of ... Peng Lai? I think?).

Oh look, Huo Fort becomes relevant again! I forgot about them. Anyway, Huo Lintao, who is now the boss and seems to not be well liked basically everywhere, wants to fight Disha and invites people from Jianghu to his Destroy Disha Assembly (God, I just love that name XD). Li Sheng & 48 Strongholds get an invite and he wants to investigate. Huo Fort is also... attacked by random cultivators I guess?

Meanwhile, let’s check in on Yin Pei! He still can’t deal with his internal injury (loss of internal power? still not sure; I’m assuming it’s sth like severe damage to a golden core in xanxia or even complete loss of one) and scours Old Daoist Master Chongxiao’s rooms for the Phoenix Pill, which... I think gives you lots of power but is also really super dangerous? 

This show sure has lots of useful but also dangerous power restoring/improving pills and needles, huh?

Anyway, Yin Pei takes the pill. He does not feel so good. Uh oh.

Li Yan and Yang Jin go in search for A-Fei again – uhm, didn’t A-Fei simply go into town with ChuChu? Why are they searching for her again, other that Yang Jin wants to fight her because one obvious defeat isn’t enough? I'm guessing there has been a time skip again...

Meanwhile, at Disha Manor! Shen Tianshu is nursing his wounded ego I guess, while Chu Tianyu, an older member, is now supposed to take care of all this drama, but he doesn’t really want to because he’s retired. How many weird members of Disha are there?

Oh okay, so Yin Pei goes kinda crazy because of the scabbard since it seems to be gone, takes more of the Phoenix Pills, which is a fucking stupid idea, we get some exposition that this might turn him into a demon of some sort, and then he kills Chongxiao for the scabbard because he thinks that the old master wants it for himself.

Which, you know, isn’t true, but that’s what you get for being so secretive, I guess. Chongxiao actually wanted the scabbard so a forger could make lots of copies of it, so that Yin Pei can keep the original one. *sigh* Well, too late now. Yin Pei also meets that evil guy from way back in ep 7 or 8 who’d fought Chongxiao and Li Sheng, who calls himself the Black Judge (I’m too lazy to look up his name and hope he doesn’t really become that relevant). 

I’m kinda sad that Yin Pei simply seems to go the “Oops I’m super crazy now“ route instead of having a more interesting redemption arc. I also... don’t really know what he wants to do now? He’s got the scabbard of his father... Are there still people alive he could take revenge on? Disha I guess?

But! The song that plays while Yin Pei confronts Chongxiao is awesome! I'm in love.♥

Back to the main characters, thank you! Xie Yun is really ill and freezing, the poison taking its toll. He’s at the same inn as two new characters (noooo, no more characters, have mercy!) Zhu Chen and Zhu Ying of the small Zhu sect, who are there for that assembly. They eye XY and feel sorry for him. We instantly know that these are Good People.

Aaaaaand introducing another new character, Ying Hecong, Poison Doctor! I know he’s relevant because he’s got a poster!

Of course Zhou Fei just misses Xie Yun in that inn. *sigh* But then she meets Li Yan and Yang Jin there, which is nice. 

Yet another new character!  He’s Black Tortoise Ding Kui and has henchman that are dressed in a rather peculiar way. Is this now the same as with that Azure Dragon guy, and I don’t really have to remember him? He’s from the 4 Guardians Mountain (speaking of which, where tf is Mu XiaoQiao!?).

Okay okay I see now. Everyone is in LingLing for that meet up with the Huo family! Madame Nichang is there too! Ah my beloved! ♥ She tells Xie Yun to follow his heart, and not be stupid and only think of his end. 

Xie Yun is all evasive of course, and then he meets up with Cheng Zichen who of course is also there! Because of this he finds out that Zhou Fei is there, too, which puts him into a conflict. Because his running away was going so well, dammit!

On to Ep 28!

Xie Yun hides out in the carriage with Ling Yu of the Feather Robe Troupe, who slyly comments on him running away from Zhou Fei. He’s sad and says that it’s not A-Fei’s fault and that he’s just an unlucky person who is not good for her. T_T Kill me, why don’t you.

A-Fei has learned a lot and notices XY’s ruse, yay go my heroine!♥

She catches him and they fight, and she asks him about the poison. Zhou Fei obviously suspects ahhhh! (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ But of course when XY seems happy that she was looking for him, she goes all haughty again and is like, “It’s only because of the HYTS!“ (although no it was mainly because of him and she looks light she might burst into tears any moment now, too...)

They get distracted by the procession of Black Tortoise Master walking by and A-Fei knocks XY out. They’re even now! XD

Nice to see the whole gang together as A-Fei drags the unconscious Xie Yun to an inn! ChuChu my beloved! ♥

OMG Li Sheng and Yang Jin getting into this peacock fight! XD Li Sheng scolds his sister and Yang Jin is super pissed about it. Li Yan is looking sooo smug, like “Yep that's my very own protective himbo!“ XD

Then Li Sheng is sent off to find Madame Nichang because she at least might know what to do about Xie Yun.

Ding Kui arrives at the Hui Fort. If I understood correctly... Hui Lintao wants to... kill all the cultivators when they arrive for his assembly? Or just those other cultivators that are randomly attacking him? There's traps in the forest they have go through. He specifically mentions that the traps are set after Daoist Master Chongxiao’s design, so hm might Li Sheng be of great help here later? Anyway, that old guy from Disha is there and seems to find all of this very funny. I’m confused.

Mu Xiaoqiao my love!!!!!!! He’s back!!!!  For about 5 seconds but there he is, looking fabulous! ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Ding Kui (who... has left the Huo Fort I guess) wants to work with him and reminds him of his debt to the Huo Fort. I had forgotten about that.

Oh let’s check in for about a minute on Yin Pei, who is still crazy and slaughters some people... uhm somewhere. He also now calls himself the true Master of Clear Light. [at least I think it’s supposed to be his new name?] Nicely written on the door in blood. Okay then.

But the instrumental of his song plays in the background, making all of this much more epic, so it’s fine.

Madame Nichang arrives, is shocked, and states that Xie Yun is poisoned, as A-Fei feared, and he has a year if he doesn’t use his internal force anymore. A-Fei is devastated and we get their love song while she rubs his (supposedly) ice-cold hand. Oh my heart. T_T

Ying Hecong arrives because he wants to see the poisoned guy! XD He has never heard of tact. 

Since A-Fei is desperate she lets him in, and we get some exposition in bits and pieces. Ying Hecong first assumes that XY must’ve been poisoned about a month ago (which fits the fight against Disha, where he used the needle), but wonders how that could be because Lian Sheng (the poisoner known for bone piercing blue) has been missing for a while longer. He lets slip that he isn’t actually a doctor, uhm yeah....

Oh not A-Fei is so sad and crying, nooooo T_T She’s angry at XY, asking why he had to meddle in her affairs and then leave to just die somewhere alone. Oh nooooo.  ಥ_ಥ ಥ_ಥ ಥ_ಥ

(side note: easy scene for Wang Yibo, just lying there the whole time, no lines for once XD)

A-Fei gets the Tianmen Lock from Madam Nichang (a special lock that has a double lock mechanism that is very difficult to open. Md. Nichang actually alludes to this lock being very useful for lovers and I’m like... okay XD). YunFei are kinky as ever, nothing new here – A-Fei is so pissed at XY that she doesn’t want him to have the chance to run away again. XD

Loved how XY complained about the lock destroying his posture. XD And how Zhou Fei’s like, “It’s not my fault you’re bound like that, Li Sheng is to blame!“ while the flashback tells us, that uhm no, he’s not. XD

Ending with A-Fei telling Yang Jin about the Hai Tian Yi Se. Ah they’re important relics it seems. Well whatever. XY listens in.

I really need to keep on watching, it seems stuff is happening.

[the-house-of-the-nine]

LFC / RP ---- The Serpent Inquisitor

The Basics ––– –

Name: Lazarius Kash’ebahl

Alias: Nestor Blacksun

Nickname(s): Laz / Lazzy-boy / Serpent / Inquisitor

Age: Irrelevant and Undetermined (Ask why.)

Birthday: January 11th

Race: Quel’dorei

Gender: Male

Marital Status: Single  [Divorced Once]

Relationship Status: Single

Physical Appearance ––– –

First Appearances:  Lazarius is an out of place being that belongs among the nobility of Quel’thalas or Stormwind, but due to his desire to reach new people and those who are seeking salvation after the world had been completely wrought with War, he sticks out like a sore thumb in Orgrimmar.  The Inquisitor wears the finest of robes, violets and amethysts, ebony and dark onyx.  And adorns his vestments with Saronite armor plates and chains.   

Hair: Long Shoulder Length Chestnut Brown Hair.

Hair in Disguise:  Usually a Light Gold.

Eyes: Pure Black with flecks of sparkling whites and blues.

Eyes in Disguise: Cerulean.

Height: 72 inches.

Build: Slender, Lean, Gaunt, Lithe, yet still Toned.

Scent: He wears a combined scent of Sandalwood and Clove that masks the lingering magical aroma of death and void that seems to connect to him.

Distinguishing Marks: None that are visible without disrobing.  His upper body is wrought with lashings both front and back from his upbringing and training.  He has words in Shath’yar that have been branded with hot iron onto his flesh.  He has runic symbols that have been carved into his skin ritualistically. 

Tattoos: He has used a snake like scaled helix pattern tattoo across his arms and upper body to try and cover most of the damage done to him through his upbringing. 

Piercings:  Three Silver hoops all gauged 8mm in both ears, with a set of sterling Shal’dorei ear sheathes over the tips.

Common Accessories:   His hands and arms are wrapped in a blackish almost ethereal like gauze.  On his right hand index finger you will notice a razor sheath that covers the finger like a gauntlet.  It has a clawed point on its end.     

Personal Information––– –

Alliance Profession:  Owner and Operator of “Curiosities & Collections” which is a front antique and rare goods store in Stormwind.

Horde Profession:  Standing true to the nature of his families heritage and fortune; House Kash’ebahl is one of the most efficient and renowned logistical experts in the procurement and shipping of rare cloth, antiques and spice.

Financial Status:  Vastly Wealthy

Hobbies:  Research  || Experimentation || Reading/Painting || Piano || Observing the Populace

Languages:   Thalassian || Orcish || Dwarvish || Common || Bits and pieces of others due to his Order allowing all races.

Residence: The Bastille - Deep beneath Northrend.

Birthplace: Quel'Thalas

Religion: Cosmic

Vices:  Women / Power / Knowledge

Fears:   Losing his empire and the people who’ve helped him, essentially his family. || Abandonment || Drowning ||

Vulnerabilities: 

Relationships ––– -

Spouse/Significant other(s): Of the none sexual and deeper connections, the main women in his life currently are @whatadarkbitch​ [ Verzatea Duskflame, his oldest and dearest friend, ally and confidant.  Also the mother of his child.] and his Prime @frompage112​ [Raven, who is his student and successor hopefully.  She is normally always with him.]

Children: Brinys Duskflame

Parents:  Varianna Kash’ebahl (Mother - Status - Deceased)  Pytharius Kash’ebahl (Father - Status- Deceased)  

Siblings: Pyravari Kash’ebahl ( Twin Sister - Undead ) , Siida-Ray Kash’ebahl ( Youngest Sister - Alive ) , Kretus Dark ( Half Brother - Alive) , Vallah Kash’ebahl ( Younger Brother - Unknown )

Other Relatives: Raelyndia Duskhollow ( Former Misterest of The Nine, and Keeper,  Presumed Deceased for good)

Friends/Acquaintances: Pyravari Kashebahl @pyravari-kashebahl​, Koltun Ancientveil @thebladeitself​, Verzatea Duskflame @whatadarkbitch​, Siida Kashebahl @siidaraykashebahl​, Raven @frompage112​, Jursol @bloodhuntressjursol​ , Pame MylBrin @miss-irascible​

Pets:

Sex & Romance ––– -

Sexual Orientation: Poly / Pan

Preferred Emotional Role: Dominant

Preferred Sexual Role: Dominant

Libido: Existent?

Turn ons:    Intelligence || Danger || Power Struggle || Confidence

Turn offs: Arrogance || Cowardice || Impolite and Crass || Ignorance || 

Love Language:  Lazarius does not actively hunt for anything in particular.  He often finds himself being drawn to women who display power on their own accord yet enjoy a partner who can sexually take control.  He does prefer women simply because of his conditioning, there is a bit of a complex there.

Relationship Tendencies:  Unlike most who find multiple partners to be strictly a sexual nature; Lazarius finds that having multiple relationships is healthy for a creature of his making.  Some are non-sexual at all.  A strong bond that is romantic yet restricts sexual advance.  Gaining nurturing, love and affection.  While others become increasingly more passionate and lustful, leading to a romance that borders on the physical.  Lazarius is a being that will find and latch onto those he is attracted to and devote himself to that person when they are together.  And that role they fill for one another is specific to them.  He will cherish it.  

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Personality:  He is reserved and often times will sit off to the side watching and observing.  He will hunt out and seek those who are rejecting the normal way of society and attempt to contact them to begin a dialog.  When he is approached or interacted with; Lazarius is dangerously intelligent, well spoken and charming.

Smoking Habit: None

Drugs: None

Alcohol: Not often, getting to know him you will know why he cannot drink.  And if he is, you should also know why.

RP Hooks ––– –

Can be found in:  Orgrimmar, Stormwind, and Quelthalas. 

Seeking Refuge:  Apostates, Rogue Wizards, Those wanted by the Law?  Or simply someone who is no longer allowed to practice a certain type of magic.  Lazarius is seeking those people actively to try and bolster his numbers within his flock once more. 

The Antique Store: If you are Alliance, and on the hunt for something mysterious; perhaps even dangerous, Lazarius may have it.  “Curiosities & Collections” is located somewhere in the Dwarven District and only seems to show its red door with a serpent shaped knocker to those who seek to find the rare, and unusual. 

Dark Magic:  While this is not the best hook for him, Lazarius will sometimes be drawn to or draw in those who are giving off or noticing his dark energies.  This is often times the people who wish to try and assume he is evil, while in retrospect he wants nothing more than to be left in piece.  Having changed his Cultist ways long ago and broke free of their control.

OOC  ––– –  

Lazarius is available for Tumblr and in-game RP.  Just make sure you shoot me a heads up first as I don't actively RP in either much like I used to.  Discord is my most frequent and easy way to contact and respond.  I always have my mobile app on, and I tend to respond much quicker in RP there.

I’m always open to new plots and contacts, whether it’s long-term story arcs or a  simple one-off interaction, so feel free to shoot me a message if you’d  like to set something up!  It should be noted that The Nine and Lazarius have a very lengthy and detailed past expanding all the way back to TBC.  Everything we have written and discuss in our discord channel and Tumblr is all actual events that have happened that carry over for our multiple people and characters.  We would gladly welcome newcomers who wish to RP in a casual long term story arch that branches out and webs all of our characters together.

Tagging: @frompage112​

@bloodhuntressjursol​

@siidaraykashebahl​

@whatadarkbitch​

@pyravari-kashebahl​

@thebladeitself​

[meteor752]

Lotr dragons

So a while back I made a post about The Dragon Curse, aka a headcanon I have about what happens if you kill a dragon. And if my followers know me, they know that I overthink a lot of small details, elaborate on them, and then write them down. And anyone who knows me personally knows that I really like dragons, so I’m surprised it took me this long to make a post about it.

In the Lotr wiki, there are basically only two types of dragons, those who breathe fire and those who don’t, and I’m going to completely ignore all of that. This is my universe, I do what I want!

Also, for more backstory about dragons, read the first part here

So here we go!

Fire dragon

When people of Middle earth speak of dragons, it is mostly fire dragons they refer to. Fire dragons are the fiercest, strongest, and the most intimidating dragon, and when it comes to dragon attacks, it is mostly the work of a fire dragon. A fire dragon is large, with often dark red scales and fiery orange eyes, and sharp teeth and claws. Despite the name Dragon, a Fire Dragon is actually a wyvern, with incredibly strong and fast wings, that can reach speeds up to 600 mph. The most distinct part about the fire dragon is of course it’s fire, that can reach up to almost ten million degrees Celsius if so desired, though most of the time the dragon chooses not to use its fire’s true heat as it can be destructive.

Water dragon

Water dragons are more common than people think, as they are mostly left alone in the deep and can therefore procreate at a normal speed. Water dragons mostly desire to be left alone, and is rarely seen up at the surface among the people of middle earth. Just like a Fire Dragon is technically a Wyvern, a water dragon is technically an Amphithere. The Water dragon can not breathe fire as most dragons are capable of, but despite common belief they can’t "breathe" water either. Their way of defending themselves relies on the venom in their teeth and spikes, which can take out even the toughest person in a heartbeat. Luckily, they are quite docile and prefer to collect items like pearls or lost weaponry than gold. Water Dragon’s come in many different colors, including Cyan, Lilac, turquoise, rose, periwinkle, lapis, and indigo. A Water Dragon is rarely just one single color, and their scales often glimmer in a combination of the colors.

Ice Dragon

Ice dragons have always been the rarest of dragons, as it has only ever been one. Moln was one of the original dragons that were created out of the greedy village, and is therefore really, really, old. Moln mostly keeps to himself in the whole of his chunk of ice, mostly collecting ice crystals and gems. He’s rather large, with glimmering white and ice blue scales, and the coldest eyes in all of middle earth. Just like the water dragon, Moln is incapable of breathing fire, and can instead freeze whatever he so desires to freeze. Moln is actually quite passive, and many people who have encountered him have come out alive, unless they would try to steal his treasure.

Forest Dragon

Forest dragons are some of the smaller dragons, only being about five feet tall and 25 feet long. Forest dragons are, just like fire dragons, a threat to the people of middle earth, but in a much lesser kind. They are a bit like raccoons to a Fire Dragons wolf. Just like their name might suggest, a Forest dragon mostly stay in a chosen forest, protecting their territory fiercely from other Forest Dragon’s. They mostly stay in the trees, jumping between branches and eating the birds and squirrels that they find, since because of their small size and dull teeth and claws they can’t exactly take on any big animals. Despite being able to breathe fire, a Forest Dragon often chooses not to as it can set their precious forest ablaze, leaving only ash behind. Except for The Ice Dragon, Forest dragons have the fewest cases of hatchlings, as they rarely interact with their own species unless it is to battle ‘em to the death for territory. A new Forest Dragon is only really created through dragon slayers, which makes them quite rare. A Forest Dragon only really comes in one color, dark green, as it makes it easier for them to blend into the woods. The Forest Dragon’s teeth and claws are quite dull and non-threatening, and their tail completely spikeless. Their true strength is their quick speed, reaching up to more than a thousand mph which makes it the fastest dragon, and their sharp eyes. Unlike other dragons who value treasure like gold and jewels, a forest dragon finds and collects pretty rocks and plants that they like, and hide them in hollow trees for safekeeping. 

Spike Dragon

The spike dragon is probably the dragon there are the most of, just simply because they are hard to find and that they live in packs, so Hatchlings are common. The Spike dragons are the smallest dragons, with only being about a half foot long and just a few inches tall. Just like the Fire Dragon, a Spike dragon is a wyvern, but a quite small one in comparison. The name Spike Dragon comes from the fact that this dragon has, and be prepared cuz this is a shocker, spikes! The whole thing is covered in ‘em, making it not the most petable thing out there. Despite being about the size of a person’s hand, the Spike dragon is quite vicious and full of rage, and just like the forest dragon very territorial. They stay in small packs, helping each other to hunt and take care of the tiny hatchlings. The Spike dragon can mostly be found in very dry areas like a desert, as their sand-colored scales can easily blend into the background which makes it easier to sneak up on prey. Despite their size, Spike Dragons are hunters, and their main diet consists of stuff like fenneks and possums, but if they’re lucky they can manage to take down a man or an elf. The Spike dragons treasure mostly consists of small golden coins found on one of the men/elves/dwarves they kill, and they protect it fiercely from the other members of their species. A Spike Dragon can breathe fire, but it’s a fairly small flame that doesn’t do much damage, so it usually uses its sharp spikes or teeth to attack.

Mountain Dragon

Aside from the dragons we do not speak of, mountain dragons are the largest dragons there is. A fully grown one can reach around about three mountains and manage to bite its own tail if it would desire to do so. This is why mountain dragons aren’t so common, as most people don’t want to kill them, so there are not many mountain dragon slayers. The mountain dragons have dark grey scales, and silvery grey eyes, that make it easy for them to blend in against the mountain rocks. The Mountain dragons mostly prefer solitude, and usually dig a hole in their mountain that they stay curled up in with their stolen treasure, napping, only coming out when needed to. Which is good, because these bad boys are very dangerous, with their enormous size and brute strength. Just like most dragons, it breathes fire, but it usually chooses not to when in battle, as it’s a sign of weakness for them, to not being able to rely on its strength alone.

Sky dragon

Sky dragons are basically the elves of the dragon types, beautiful and peaceful, but boy do they have a bloody history. The Sky dragons are fair, with pearl-like scales that shines in the sun, see-through strong wings and eyes blue as the sky, hence the name sky dragon. The Sky dragons don’t have a treasure like the other dragons, but instead only has one chosen pearl they protect fiercely. The bigger and more beautiful the pearl, the better the mate. The pearls however are not just found on the bottom of a lake or something. No, the Sky Dragons deep into the ocean, find a Water dragon, slay it, and then takes the most beautiful pearl it can find in its treasure. Most Sky dragons live on top of mountains, aka as close as the sky you can get, but not in stuff like caves like mountain dragons. No, they live out in the open, which risks them being killed in their sleep, but a Sky dragon’s scale is hard as a diamond so it’s pretty safe. A Sky dragon egg is very valuable though, because of the beauty and hardness of the shell, so they have to be careful protecting those. Sky dragons breathe fire, like many other dragons, though their fire is blue and quite elegant.

Swamp Dragons

Swamp dragons are said to be pretty closely related to Forest dragons, as they both are about the same size and almost have the same color. The Swamp dragon does not move much, unless someone would be entering their territory, where it would just go and snack on ‘em, so it’s very common for it to be covered in moss. Just like the name suggests, A swamp dragon lives in a swamp, and mostly keeps to themselves. Just walk around their swamp, and you’ll be fine. It doesn’t really care about animals either, like a squirrel can use its body to jump up in a tree, and it wouldn’t even care. Most Swamp dragons are unable to fly, as they barely use their wings and therefore don’t develop them so much. These boys are pretty lazy, and would rather just sunbath than go hunt or fly. This is also the reason most Swamp dragons don’t even have a treasure, as they don’t bother stealing it. Some do, some collect it from some random person that just stumbled into their swamp, and it keeps it in a hollow tree like the Forest Dragon, but some just don’t bother. Despite the laziness, a Swamp dragon can be pretty darn dangerous, as while it’s not the biggest, it’s very heavy and has a pretty bulky tail that can kill you with a single hit. Its Fire is not the strongest, since it mostly lays in a swamp all day, but it can kill with it if so desired.

Venom Dragon

These are the real hazards. Venom Dragons are not the largest dragons, they are not the fastest dragons, they are not the strongest dragons, but they are the second most dangerous after the dragon we do not speak of. Almost everything about this type of dragon is poisonous, from its spikes to its blood to the acid it spits. It even looks dangerous, with its large body, it’s dark purple scales and it’s glowing purple eyes. In reality, it’s just a huge puppy. Just the sweetest boy. Venom dragons are pretty much the opposite of spike dragons, as they are small and full of rage, while the Venom dragon is huge and full of love. Unfortunately, everyone is afraid of it and they are quite rare, so it doesn’t have anyone to cuddle with :(. But if you would cuddle with this thing you’d probably die, as again, everything about it is poisonous. It’s treasure mostly consists of the bones is people and animals it has accidentally killed, since it wants friends.

The Dragon we do not speak of

The name is pretty self-explanatory, we don’t talk about this one. Its species is dead, thankfully, but just the thought of it returning is pretty traumatizing. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m of course speaking of Ancalagon’s species, aka the most terrifying thing anyone has ever encountered. In the myth of the greedy village and the sorceress, it is said that the master of the village was turned into The Dragon that we do not speak of. Not much is known about this species, as most people who encountered it fucking died, and the ones who slew one of these bad boys killed themselves pretty quickly to not have any more of the fucking apocalypse happen.

•

•

•

Yeah, this is as far from canon lotr lore as you can come. But, I’m making my own universe here, and no one can stop me. Suck it Tolkien.

Also, thank you @a-e-g-g for helping me with the venom dragon, who both of us now wish to hug even though we would die.

Also, thanks again to @lunaishtari for creating the idea of the dragon curse, that then turned into fricking this. I have gone too far

AU Masterpost

[tanglebond-tales]

Wake Up, Lupin (pt. 1)

Most days, it doesn't matter what time Lupin casts the spell.

But today is Thursday, and therefore, it matters.

Ding a ling a ling, says the first alarm. Ugh. That means it's 6 o'clock. Two hours til work, one hour til portal time.

Lupin goes back to sleep.

Bing bong, says the second alarm. Ugh. Six thirty.

Wake up, Lupin. Now. Says the third alarm. Okay, the first two didn't actually SAY what they said, it was onomatopaiea. Sounds that they made translated into words. But this one actually talks.

"Uh. Portal day."

The alarm clock does not respond. It only knows how to say that one thing, repeatedly, in its tinny little voice.

"Wake up, Lupin. Now."

"Fine! Ugh. Fine. Okay. Get up, Lupin." She rolls out of bed. At least it's warm.

---

"Ugh. Why is it always so warm here."

Lupin draws the final stroke of chalk to complete the circle, and before she can even look up, there is a flash of light.

"Hello, Lupin. It's been a while."

"It's been a week." Her handler's enthusiasm at this time of morning was routinely offensive.

He steps forward out of the teleportation circle, places the supply chest on the sideboard, and makes a show of brushing the dust of the conjuring chalk from his otherwise immaculate coat. "It has! I do hope things are going well with you."

Lupin yawns and stretches. "Not bad. Work is fine. Y'know, hammering steel. Over and over."

"But you are getting plenty of practise with those elementals."

"Well, yeah, it's what I do like literally all day, so yes."

"I am glad. I take it they are co-operative."

Portal successfully cast on time, Lupin has retreated to the kitchen. She is making toast. "They're okay. I mean, some more than others, some of them are rude. Some of them are lazy. But most of them are nice. And some of them are really funny."

"I actually kind of envy you. The air realm boundary here is so thin. You're really getting the best of it. It's a wonderful assignment."

"Rui, I've been here for a year. It's getting pretty boring. And why do you always have to visit so early?"

Ruiprouice Frouce sighed. "I know. It is a long time. But we all do it. And, as you know I have a lot of people to visit. This is how I like to start my Thursdays."

She cracks some eggs into the pan and smiles at him over her shoulder. "You're sweet.” From nowhere, a wooden stirrer coalesces in her hand and she prods at the sizzling eggs. “Okay, look, I know. Rite of passage as a conjurer, blah blah. I get that, and I'm grateful for the chance. But, Pelor, am I ever ready to move on."

"Yes, Lupin." Closest thing Lupin ever had to an uncle, but he never used her nicknames. "Just one more week."

Lupin sighed. "Yes. Just one more week. Have you had breakfast?"

---

Felton Blacksand sighed, stroking his long beard and looking at the chrono dial. "Where, oh where, is Lupin."

"I'm here!" hollered Lupin, her attempt at sneaking into the office foiled by her big mouth and scrabbling feet. "I'm sorry."

"It's Thursday, already?"

"Sure is! So, what needs doing?" she inquires as she catches her breath, coils up her two long braids, and stuffs them into her beret.

Felton sighed. Not that he'd been paying close attention, but he knew the year was almost up. When he'd gotten the letter from the conjurers’ guild - sorry, the Guild of Conjurers and Summoners - he hadn't expected much, a bookish nerd maybe? Certainly not someone so talented in the trade as well as the craft. The thought of Lupin moving on was heavy on his mind.

"Crew two is on the Hammer, so they'll probably need you to help get them started. Third crew is in the mines, so Pelor willing they won't need much attention, but crew four is on the mechanisms so they'll definitely need your support. And crew five is,” he consults his clipboard, “smelting, so they may need some fires put out."

"Put out? Come on." She shimmies indignantly into her company-issue grease-spattered overalls. Frowning as she spots a couple of small tears, she jabs at them with a finger and they mend instantly.

"Loops. We're training your replacements. Give them some space to make mistakes."

Lupin was losing track of the number of sighs today. Plus one. "Can I at least stoke some fire tomorrow?"

"Sure, as long as they learn a lot today."

Lupin rolled her eyes. "Thanks, I guess."

"Crew one is on bucket detail, so keep an ear on them. They're not exactly fast."

"True, that. Anything else? Roll on end of shift, right?"

"Roll on. Don't forget to eat lunch."

"Thanks, boss." Lupin left.

---

It hadn't been an eventful shift. The air elementals had been compliant, mostly, but she'd had to talk down to a fairly large firey, and he almost didn't accept her bluster. She knew the protocol for that situation - contain with a magic circle, call for the water squad - but she was proud of the fact that she hadn't had to do that in a bit over six months. She could usually get them to listen to reason, which helped a lot since her physical stature would hardly be described as intimidating. Not that she didn’t have a few other tricks up her sleeve if it really came down to it.

Anyway. The shift was over, and Lupin was heading home. The viewing platform was on the way - about the closest thing this charming hamlet had to a tourist attraction - and hey, the Hammer in action was always a sight to see after walking up that big darn hill on her short gnome legs, so Lupin often stopped there.

Today was different, though. It was Wednesday; nearly a week had passed since Rui's last visit, and tomorrow was the big day. It was tradition in the guild to time the final day of casting with a visit, do a bit of a ceremony and whatnot, and that was tomorrow.

But more immediately, today there were some actual tourists.

A bunch of weirdoes, actually, thought Lupin as she approached the platform. In a good way, an interesting way, and certainly something she hadn't seen in a while. An elf lady with a fancy-looking bow strapped to her back. A tall human man with rippling muscles and a giant sword. A robed monk, a little girl, a birdman. A lizardy guy. Lizardy? No, more dragon-y. And a peculiar boy, not so much taller than Lupin, humanish but for the pointy, swept-back horns atop his head. Lupin somehow has an impulse to just run forward and hug him.

She suppressed it, barely, and instead sidled up to the group just as the dragony man was leaving. Adventurers? What were they doing here? "Hi! I'm Lupin!" She thrust her hand out in the vague direction of the boy with the horns.

---

It seemed like the boy with the horns had a lot on his mind, but that was okay, because Lupin loved talking about her work, and had been doing so incessantly. "And then, right? We put the molten slug on the anvil. And then, the hammer smashes it flat! So flat. Keeping that hammer working is basically my day job. You know, just the other day..."

Fancy bow lady interrupts her. "So, you work here, then?"

Lupin stops. Was that sarcasm? She wasn't used to that, around here.

"Yes, I do! So where are you guys from?" Funny how the fatigue of a whole shift in the steelworks could be erased with a little bit of chitchat.

---

It turned out they were new in town, just passing through really, and looking for somewhere to eat, drink and sleep. Lupin knew just the place - and what a coincidence, was going that way. Even if she weren't, she would have said she was. She'd learned some names, including the horn-headed fella, Russell. Walking next to him, she felt like he was in need of some cheering up.

"Hey, do you like animals?"

Russell immediately perks up. "Yes! I love animals."

"Oh, well." Lupin clasps her hands together, and then opens them a crack. A tiny nose peeks out, whiskers twitching as it samples the air, followed by the face and long body of a silky white ermine, which scurries up Lupin's arm and perches on her shoulder, looking intently at Russell.

"Russell, this is Snickers."

Russell is agog. "What.. how.. did you just.. summon that?"

"Her. And yes. Well, no. Well, she's always around, just not always in material form. I think she likes you."

Lupin bumps her shoulder into Russell's and Snickers scuttles across, disappearing up Russell's sleeve and, a moment later, poking her fuzzy face out of the neck of his armour.

Russell's excited grin has turned into barely contained paroxysms of laughter. "That.. tickles!!", he exclaims between gasps of air. "Oh yes indeed," says Lupin, "this is definitely her tickliest form. Sometimes she's a cat, sometimes a rat, we didn't really like her as a snake, but birds are a lot of fun. Though, not as cuddly."

Snickers has wriggled free of Russell's armour and parked herself on his shoulder, busying herself with nuzzling him incessantly. Accordingly, Russell has regained the power of speech. "She can change forms?”, he asks, returning the affection. “Like, whenever?"

"Oh, well it takes a little bit of doing. We have to cast a spell for it, which needs some fancy ingredients, so it's a bit of a special occasion when we do, you know?"

Russell is impressed. "That is so, so cool."

Lupin blushes a little. Finding a familiar is among the most basic of basic conjuration, but it’s nice that he's impressed. And it’s nice to be chatting to someone who doesn’t tower over her. "You think that's cool? You should see what I do for a living." She starts into telling him all about a day in the life of an elemental wrangler as they walk on.

---

"So, this guild has had you living here for a year, casting the same spell every day, over and over, to - set up a portal?"

Sitting around an assortment of tables, the adventurers are exercising their elbow muscles hefting tankards of excellent ale. Blacksand's Brewery is crowded, as always after the end of a shift at the 'works, with dwarves, gnomes, and humans, far too many of whom Lupin knows by name. The elder of the Blacksand brothers, Beren, tends bar, and waitstaff sashay busily amongst the tables.

"Yep, that's right. It'll facilitate travel and trade and blah blah blah. And it'll mean I've concluded this stage of my service to the Guild, so I'll be presented with a shiny new badge and make a bunch of people real proud, but best of all, I won't have to stay in this boring excuse for a town anymore."

"Oh come on, it's not so bad. This place is nice. And the hammer is really cool!"

"Yeah, so cool! So much going on here! And I get to hear the clanging all day every day from up close AND far away!" Lupin is thrilled to be using sarcasm again. She makes a show of counting on her fingers. "You've seen the Hammer, you're eating at Blacksand's, and you've met me. I think that about covers the highlights of the Praak experience."

She pauses to sip her ale. "I will not miss this place. I will miss some of the people, though." She looks around at the interior of the Brewery. "And, well, I might miss this place. But Praak generally? I don't think so. I don't exactly have a plan yet, but I'm sure looking out for an excuse to leave." A smiling waitress deposits several plates of delicious-smelling food on the table, and Lupin nods in acknowledgement, suddenly feeling a twinge of guilt for badmouthing the small town. She picks up the smallest plate, containing a boiled egg and small cubes of various cheeses, and sets it to one side. Snickers goes straight for it and gets to nibbling.

"But you have to finish this portal first, right?"

"Oh, yes, well, that's happening tomorrow."

Russell's eyebrows raise precipitously.

"Tomorrow! And you said there's going to be a ceremony?" Had she said that? She wasn't sure, but the thoughtful look on Russell's face stilled her tongue. "Do you know anyone who could transport someone between planes? That's a conjurer thing, right?"

Lupin hesitates, unsure of what is happening. "Well - that's something I'm studying towards, but yes, I suppose I do know some people. And yes," she anticipates his next question, "it is possible some of them might be here tomorrow."

"Huh," says Russell, his eyebrows returning to their typical stance as he grabs a chicken leg and leans back in his chair. "Gaalin will want to meet you."

"Who's Gaalin?", says Lupin.