#or rewrite my own version I'm never gonna share | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

achaotichuman · 4 months

Note

Do you think you could write about dehlia in this context: https://www.tumblr.com/praetorqueenreyna/737196004108058624?source=share, hopefully featuring deadbeat at first mom feyre, horrified stepdad rhysand, tired of it all tamlin and a supportive lucien/eris.

This has been sitting, marinating in my drafts. But it is finally complete. I am fully aware I fucked up the timeline here, but I'm not rewriting all of this, so we're gonna pretend that fancy Fae tests can reveal a pregnancy at four weeks instead of eight like the post said.

And disclaimer before anyone calls for my head, for this fic I am also rewriting Ianthe's character, because she is too interesting for me to just write off as a sex offender and never think about again. Also, it is very interesting to see her as a genuinely morally grey person with good intentions. So, in this fic, she never SAs Lucien, but she does get a cool plot twist so stay tuned for that.

Basically, I have turned this into a rewrite of Acomaf and Acowar. A lot of the events were written from pure memory, and asking Tumblr, so forgive me if some scenes from the OG series were left out or written significantly differently. We mostly got Feyre's version of events anyway, so I'm not too worried.

This will be split into several chapters. Three being for the Mist and Fury rewrite, and then two for the Wings and Ruin rewrite. And if I have time, I'll do an Acofas rewrite. I'll be uploading all three of the Mist and Fury chapters today, and linking them in this post. You can also find it on SquidgeWorld here, and Ao3 here.

Anyway, here is the long-awaited fic, anon. And @r-biter, thank you for the original post, I hope I do it justice. Also @praetorqueenreyna who reblogged the original post.

Also, did I turn this into a Tamcien fic? Yes, of course I did.

A Field of Dahlias

“Are you alright with this?” He asked, it may have been the hundredth time he asked, Feyre gave him the same exasperated eyes she had given him all night long.

Everything pointed to her being more than alright with this. Him pressed into the sheets below her, their clothes forgotten on the floor, her eyes glazed with lust. The rush of new hormones in her head no doubt fuelled the arousal that was now pressed against his wet slit. She leaned down, teeth a touch sharper than normal. She kissed his neck, dragging her canines along his fluttering pulse like he would for her.

She ran her now larger hands down his slightly smaller than normal frame. Hands finding his breasts and squeezing relentlessly, pinching his nipples, her rough fingers, calloused from years of work from before she had been turned fae. Tamlin bit down on his lip, not wanting the whimper that pressed against his vocal cords to be released. A part of him still didn’t understand the switch in the power dynamic and begged to flip her over, to shift them both back to normal and continue this the way he knew well.

But he didn’t, he remained underneath Feyre. Her chest flatter, set a touch wider, her shoulders broader. Her hips, now more narrow, rocked forward ever so slightly, as if on their own accord, as if her body was begging to bury the length now resting between her legs into the tight warmth before her.

“I’m fine, more than fine, like I’ve said a hundred times already.” She added an eye roll to the last part, Tamlin countered it with his own.

“Fine, but if you want to stop at anytime-”

“Are you okay with this, Tam?” She asked, hands becoming more gentle, roaming his skin like she loved it, like she cared.

It was still new, the loving and the caring, the likes of which Tamlin hadn’t felt in years.

“I’m okay.” Tamlin said, forcing his voice to remain steady. He loosened a breath, then spread his thighs wider.

“Well?” He asked, adding a grin to his words, “Lets see how sloppy your form is, wicked creature.”

Feyre gave him her own wild grin, eyes filled with that lust and love. Something caring and devoted in her face, she leaned down and put her face into the crook of his neck, licking at the skin in a careful, deliberate manner.

“Let’s see how well you hold up, Faerie Lord.”

***

Tamlin shuffled a few papers on his desk. Briefly glancing over all of them before sorting them into piles and picking up the one closest to his left. With nimble fingers he paged them apart and began to read each complaint. A sigh escaping his throat.

He tried to ease the worry sitting low in his belly but it wouldn’t relent, as the pile of complaints grew higher, the headache pounding behind his eyes tightened.

After he was done reading the letters, he moved to open a drawer in his desk. Then the feeling of his stomach lurching overwhelmed his senses. Nausea made his legs shake, he retched, then quickly slapped his palm over his mouth before winnowing to the nearby bathroom.

He had all of about three seconds before he was bent over the toilet, vomiting until he was shaking so badly he could barely stand on his knees. He dry heaved for a minute before finally his body relented and he slumped back, panting heavily, beats of sweat gathering on his forehead.

“Gods dammit.” He cursed, forcing himself to his feet and quickly cleaning up.

As he rinsed out his mouth, a pain shot up his spine and the sickness returned with a festering wrath. Tamlin groaned, a low sound from the back of his throat, he gripped the sides of the sink.

***

It didn’t relent, the sickness came and went throughout the days. Tamlin thought he could handle it. Thought he could make it through the seemingly endless hours without anyone knowing something was amiss.

“Two of you will head for the south border and I will send another group towards-” Tamlin was cut off by bile rising quickly in his throat, burning him from the inside out. He couldn’t get another word out before he sprinted back inside. Leaving five very confused sentries outside.

He rushed past several servants, all of which stopped to stare in concern. Tamlin ignored all of them.

It was Alis that didn’t stare. Rather broke into a sprint after him. The Summer Faery found Tamlin practically doubled over while he emptied the contents of his stomach. Alis snapped in a gasp, then quickly ran over to pull back his hair, sticking to his face from sweat.

“Tam…” She murmured.

Tamlin could barely see, the world tipping from one side to the other.

“Why are you staring?” Alis shouted at somebody, or somebodies at the door. Tamlin had enough sense to look back over his shoulder. He saw several servants who were loitering at the door, wondering what exactly was happening.

“Leave this instant, go back to your duties.” She shouted, then quickly slammed the door, everyone scattered as quickly as possible.

Tamlin panted as he sat back on his heels, tilting his head to the ceiling, “Gods.”

“Tamlin, are you alright?” Alis asked, helping him onto his shaking feet. He wanted to shove away from her and insist he was fine, but he was still getting his bearings back and the world was too bright, and he had a headache.

She led him to the sink and coaxed him into washing up. Tamlin splashed his face with ice water, and rinsed out his mouth. Then he looked up to see the mirror.

Gods, he hadn’t realised how little sleep he had been getting until he saw the deep purple under his eyes. The gauntness in them, along with his too pale face, made him resemble something of a ghost.

“I…”

“Tam.” She murmured. Putting a hand to his forehead, the rough bark of her hands rubbing against the soft skin. She furrowed her eyebrows, “You don’t have a temperature.

“I’m fine, Alis.” He said.

She breathed in deeply, face carefully controlled, “You need to see a healer. I will call for one-”

She turned to leave, but Tamlin took hold of her wrist. The light shining from Faelights in the bathroom too bright, he was so tired.

“I don’t need a healer, Alis. It’s nothing.” He told her. Ignoring the image of himself in the mirror, ignoring that fact he knew very well that he did not look fine.

Still Alis wouldn’t go against his orders. She sighed, shoulders slumping slightly, her eyes cast downwards, “Just… fine then. Just please see one if this gets worse.”

Tamlin bit down on the inside of his cheek, but nodded all the same.

***

It got worse, and there wasn’t anything he could do to hide it from anybody too close.

So he locked himself in his study or his room, and tried to focus on anything else. Anything other than the constant headache pounding behind his eyes. The never-ending wish to lay in his bed and sleep until his days ended, and the constant vomiting.

It didn’t relent, instead it worsened.

Alis found him again. In the bathroom in his room. When she spotted his hair, dirty and tangled, eye bags even darker and skin paler than ever. She narrowed her eyes, but quickly tied back his hair. Once he was done, she told him, “We’re getting a healer.”

Tamlin wanted to protest again, but he was so tired. So he said nothing, instead he slumped against the nearest wall and closed his eyes.

Why was this happening? Now of all times, when he needed to be alert for his Court. For the people who were still recovering.

“It’s just stress.” Tamlin told Alis as she put a dampened cloth to his forehead.

“I would still like for you to see a healer.”

‘I don’t believe a word you say’, is what that meant. Tamlin chuckled, but the sound was hollow.

“Alis, I-”

“Hush now, child.” She murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face as she sat down beside him, “I’ll call a healer, we will figure out what is happening.”

It felt too familiar. Like the days spent in his childhood when he and Alis would sit on the ground in the gardens, whilst she sang him songs in a language he didn’t know at the time. A language she had taught him, so he could sing with her.

It was too nostalgic. He didn’t deserve to feel that love again. That deep rooted, innocent love, it belonged to the child that hadn’t been stained by the world.

It belonged to the kid that hadn’t been ruined in every sense of the word.

Alis didn’t seem to care in the slightest. She took in her hands three strands of blond hair and began to weave a braid.

“It’ll be okay.” She assured him.

Tamlin scoffed, he felt her fingers pause in his hair, so he mumbled, “Nothing seems okay now.”

Alis tilted her head slightly, to see his eyes better. Her brown irises rose to meet his green ones. Alis reached out, her rough fingertips caressing the side of his face ever so softly.

“It will.” She whispered, “It will get better, Tam.”

***

The healer that he saw was named Heilda, she was a short sweet-faced lesser Fae with fluttering mosaic wings and short near white curly hair. Her eyes were all black and her teeth were sharpened. Tamlin was sitting in her office, in a small cottage in the middle of one of the busiest villages, close to the Manor. One of his hands rubbed his temple while the other tapped his leg.

Lucien had dropped him off at Heilda’s residence before leaving to inform Alis he had indeed gone to the healer and not run off. Tamlin had then insisted he didn’t need to, but the headache came back, and Tamlin was powerless to stop the determined redhead.

“How long has the vomiting been happening?” Heilda asked.

The High lord bit the inside of his cheek, quickly thinking back on the past few months since they left the Mountain, “Give or take a month and a half.”

She quickly jotted that down in a leatherback notebook in her hands, then asked, “I’ve also been told you’ve been experiencing severe headaches? How long has that been happening?”

Tamlin shrugged, “I’ve had them all my life, just recently they’re occurring more and more.”

Heilda nodded as she jot notes down in her leather book, before turning to a variety of medicinal herbs and bottles of strangely coloured liquids.

She rifled through a few before taking a mortar and pestle and began to grind a mixture of dried plants and herbs, asking questions as she did.

“Have there been any recent changes in diet?”

“No,” Unless Alis was slowly poisoning him, but he didn’t think her the killer type.

“Drinking water regularly?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been sleeping properly?”

Tamlin almost answered yes, then he remembered the nightmares that riddled his sleep, “...No.”

“Alright, that could be one cause, but from the extent of your headaches I’m inclined to believe there could be something else.” She took the herbal mixture and went to a fireplace where a small cauldron bubbled incessantly, “I’d like to run a few tests, my Lord.”

“Whatever you need to do.” He said.

She took a blood and urinary sample. Tamlin waited for what felt like hours as she put them through several tests, mostly mixing strange things together and watching what happened. Occasionally noting reactions. Tamlin was bored out of his wits, staring at the ceiling, Heilda had given him some strange purple tea, it eased the pressure in his head and the nausea in his stomach, thankfully.

There was a light rapping on the door, followed by a very familiar voice, “Lady Heilda, I was sent by Alis.”

“Come in, Lord Lucien.” Was all Heilda said, not looking up from her work.

Lucien opened the door, his eyes immediately drawn to Tamlin and the drink in his hand. He nodded to it, a silent question, Tamlin just shrugged and jutted his head in the direction of Heilda.

Lucien sat down in a chair beside Tamlin, “How are you doing?”

“Better since drinking this thing.” He said, showing Lucien the painted mug. Lucien nodded.

“What's happening now?” He asked.

“Heilda’s running tests, hopefully we’ll know what’s causing the nausea, we can fix it, then be on our merry way.” Tamlin said, drinking the last of the strange tea.

That was when Heilda clicked her tongue, “I don’t believe this is a problem we can simply fix, my Lord.”

She spun around in her chair, “I believe this problem will be a bit bigger than originally considered.”

Lucien and Tamlin furrowed their brows, glancing at each other before eyeing the healer worriedly. It was Lucien who asked, “And what is the problem exactly?”

Heilda took in a breath, seemingly steeling herself, as if on instinct, Lucien took Tamlin’s hand in his own. Holding him tightly.

“My Lord,” She said, addressing Tamlin, “Have you shapeshifted into a female form, sometime within the last five or six weeks?”

Tamlin was taken aback by the question, he blinked at her, hand tightening in Lucien’s, “I mean… yes, but I’ve done it before, I don’t know how it could cause any issues. Especially not…” He counted the weeks since that night with Feyre, “Six weeks later.”

Now Heilda snapped in a deep breath, “This may be an uncomfortable question, but did you have any penetrative intercourse whilst in female form?”

“You’re right, that is an uncomfortable question.” Tamlin said, blinking at the healer like she had grown a second head, “That shouldn’t have anything to do with my symptoms.”

“Just trust her, Tam.” Lucien said, squeezing his hand in an assuring manner.

“I just need a yes or no answer.” Heilda said gently.

Tamlin sighed deeply, eyes squeezing shut, “Yes. Feyre is a shapeshifter as well.”

Heilda nodded, then leaned back in her chair, “Did you use any contraceptives this night in question?”

Now Tamlin gritted his teeth, “What does this-”

“Tam.” Lucien said gently. Tamlin looked over at his friend and sighed.

“No, we did not.”

Heilda nodded, then she rubbed her hands together. Wringing out her fingers and cracking the knuckles as she crossed one leg over the other, “Okay. What I’m about to say may be shocking.”

“Just spit it out.” Tamlin said, finally and fully fed up with these riddles and strange questions.

“Alright,” Heilda looked between Lucien and Tamlin, Lucien tightened his grip on Tamlin’s hand.

“Congratulations, Lord Tamlin Fairburn, you are pregnant.”

One heartbeat, then a dozen. Tamlin stared at Heilda like she had two heads and a tail. Lucien had gone completely white, the fire lord looked as though he was about to pass out.

Heilda looked between the two, she smiled, then clapped her hands as she wheeled her chair away, “This is what happens when you don’t take contraceptives.”

Tamlin laughed, he laughed hard, nearly falling off his chair. He gripped Lucien’s hand so tightly he could feel his bones grinding under his fingers, Lucien didn’t pull away regardless. The Fox remained silent whilst Tamlin fell into hysterics.

“No!” Tamlin said, pushing himself back into his chair, “No, no, no. I am not- I am not at all. That is wrong!”

Anger now pressed through the hysteria. Heilda sighed like she expected this reaction, turning around she looked over at Tamlin, “Listen, you were in a female form and you-”

“I am not now aren’t I?!” He shouted, standing up from his chair. His sudden motion snapped Lucien from his daze. He quickly stood up and wrapped an arm around Tamlin’s chest. He made to wrap his free arm around his stomach, but suddenly didn’t. When Tamlin looked at him the Fox was breathing deliberately slowly, staring at his abdomen with an unreadable expression.

It only served to piss Tamlin off even more. Heilda, unlike the two before her, stayed calm, her voice soft and gentle when she replied, “No, but you can still retain a womb in this form if your magic allows it.”

“I shifted back the morning after!” Tamlin shouted, “This should’ve never happened! You are wrong!”

“I’m not, and I think you know I’m not. Spring thrives off of fertility magic, your magic protected the foetus growing in your womb.” Heilda replied. So casual as if this happened every other day.

Tamlin stammered and stuttered, trying to figure out someway around this. Some loophole or information that would directly challenge this. Like if he wished hard enough he could prove her wrong. Like if he managed to get angry enough, he could make this go away. Tamlin eventually looked to the floor. Beginning to process the information for what it was. For exactly what it meant.

“I recommend shifting back into the form of a female, it will make this more comfortable.” Heilda said, her voice still so gentle. It stopped making him angrier, and as the initial shock and denial wore off, the world began to tip from one side to the other. Lucien held him up. The red-head’s fingers intertwined with Tamlin’s.

“Is there anything else, Heilda?” Lucien asked, his voice a soft murmur behind Tamlin, yet a dull vibration in the face of the ringing in his ears growing with each passing second.

“Bring him back for some more tests once he’s processed this.” Was all Heilda said. Tamlin was caught between wanting to wake up from this as if it were a dream and wanting to rip her throat out for being so casual about this.

Only Lucien murmured his thanks. Tamlin considered cursing out the healer, but his sudden lack of energy made that impossible.

In the future he would thank Heilda for being so calm, for now, he hated her for it.

Lucien and Tamlin were silent as they left the healer’s office. Lucien kept his hand on Tamlin’s, gently leading the way as Tamlin was still reeling. Barely thinking, he couldn’t hear much besides some of Lucien's gentle murmurs and promises that they would figure it out.

But as Lucien made to winnow them he suddenly stopped, eyes wide, face pale, hands shaking. Tamlin furrowed his brow whispering, “What?”

“Can-Can I winnow you? That won’t hurt…” Lucien bit his lip as he made a quick gesture to Tamlin’s belly.

Tamlin snarled, his fangs a flash of white. He ripped his hand away from Lucien’s and marched in the general direction of Rosehall.

“Tamlin!” Lucien called out, quick to follow him, “Tamlin you can’t just storm off!”

“Watch me!” Tamlin turned around and screamed at him. Lucien stopped dead in his tracks, his nose scrunched as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Don’t scream at me, I’m only trying to help!” Lucien told him.

“I don’t need your help, Lucien! I don’t need you!” It was a dirty lie, because Tamlin needed Lucien more than air. Especially now. He felt his legs shaking, he wanted to fall to the ground. He wanted to sleep for a thousand years. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and rage and throw things. He wanted to get angry. He wanted to go back to this morning when this didn’t exist to him.

Tamlin didn’t wait to see Lucien’s reaction to his venomous words, he turned around and continued to storm away.

He didn’t get far. Lucien appeared behind him and picked him up. Holding him in bridal carry. Tamlin yelled and thrashed, spitting curses at him, some of which he had forgotten he even knew.

“Put me down!” His voice was drawing attention from passersby, but Lucien didn’t put him down, just waited.

“Lucien fucking Vanserra let go of me!”

“Stop being a dickhead and I will.”

“You-”

“Tamlin.” Lucien warned. The tiniest hint of a growl in his voice, something about the way he said it made Tamlin stop squirming. The glare of death in the High lord’s eyes never left but he gritted his teeth and stopped moving.

“Good.” Lucien said, putting him back on the ground, but keeping two hands on his shoulders.

“Tamlin, we need to deal with this.” Lucien said, his eyes hard, his face unforgiving.

“I know-”

“No, you will try and ignore this until you are physically unable to any longer, and then we will be unprepared. You and I are going to talk about this, and form a game plan.”

Tamlin’s eye twitched, “Then can you wait until we get back to Rosehall?”

“We will walk back.” Lucien said as he let go of Tamlin and plucked a paper and pen from the space between realms. The red-head scribbled something down before sending it off. Tamlin knew it would be something to Alis to say they would be returning later than expected.

Tamlin’s hands once again curled into fists. He took in a deep breath, “I have shapeshifted, a little magic will not hurt.”

Lucien’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath, “We don’t know that Tam.”

Tamlin laughed quietly, at what he didn’t know. The world was going so fast, at the same time it came to a complete halt.

“What the fuck are we going to do?” Tamlin asked quietly.

Tamlin stared at nothing, vision slowing like a haze was settling over his bones, a dark mist that made everything seem so far away.

“Hey.” Lucien murmured, taking the High lord’s hands in his, “We’ll figure it out.”

They walked. Over the rocky cobblestone paths and through the blooming gardens abounding through Spring, the smell of pollen wafted through the air, mixing with the scents of sweetened coffee and baked goods. The sun was speckled over the ground by the constant clouds passing overhead. Gentle breezes caressed the delicate petals of roses, lilacs and lilies.

Tamlin resolutely stared at the ground ahead, each footstep deliberate and careful. He could feel whenever Lucien’s watchful eyes flicked to him. The High lord wrapped his arms around himself, releasing Lucien's hand, and made sure to not so much as flick his gaze to his emissary.

Eventually it felt like Lucien got the message and looked ahead as well, the clicking of his eye never directed in Tamlin’s direction. Finally Tamlin looked at him, to see Lucien with his head held high and facing straight ahead. His red hair a banner behind him in the breeze. His stride never faltering.

Tamlin felt like a newborn foal next to him, not so graceful and elegant, more clumsy and foolish.

Then a sound filled his ears, one that made him stop dead in his tracks. Tamlin quickly snapped his gaze to his left, looking across a nearby field, filled with a plush blanket of white, purples, pinks and reds, there he saw a gaggle of children. Some lesser Fae, others High Fae. All blowing on dandelion fluff and laughing until they fell to the ground. Two boys with purple skin and big black eyes, chased each other with worms on sticks. A girl with delicate fluttering wings carefully placed a flower crown on a girl with pointed ears, freckles and ginger hair.

Another two girls threw mud onto each other, ruining the delicate lace of their baby blue dresses. And one boy, much smaller than the rest, with wispy brown hair laughed until he fell onto his back.

“Tam?” Tamlin didn’t look at Lucien as his eyes were captivated by the children of his Court playing without a care in the world.

One hand scrunched in the fabric of his trousers, strands of blond hair were picked up by the wind, fluttering over and around his face.

Lucien walked back to stand beside Tamlin as he saw what had halted him. The Fox of Prythian reached his hand out and wrapped Tamlin’s in it.

“It’ll be okay Tam.” He whispered.

“Dahlias.” Tamlin rasped, voice breathy and shaking.

Lucien hummed in confusion and Tamlin pointed to the field, “The field its… the flowers are all dahlias.”

A heartbeat of silence passed them by, floating along like a butterfly on the wind, Lucien squeezed his hand ever so slightly, “A field of dahlias.”

***

The rest of the walk home was less exciting. Mostly Tamlin stayed caught in silence whilst Lucien broached the harder topics that would later need more discussion. The complications of having an Heir of not just Spring, but of the Cursebreaker, so quickly after Amarantha’s reign had come to a completion. Even Feyre was not completely settled into her new body as a High Fae, and certainly not settled into her new role at Court.

Tamlin wouldn’t dream of putting a singular extra duty on her shoulders that she didn’t need to have to stress about so soon after all had been said and done. But he had to admit they needed more publicity, something for the rest of Prythian to see that Feyre Archeron was the Lady of Spring, the saviour of the Mountain, and the Warrior who sent Amarantha to her grave.

He didn’t want her to be a show pony, only to be paraded to see her achievements. She had said it herself on a number of times that she wanted a quiet life. But if a baby was now on the way-

No, not thinking about that.

He didn’t want to think about ‘it’ , he wanted to think about how to get Feyre properly settled. Then how to stabilise the Court, and regain what had been stolen and lost to Amarantha. He needed to focus on the Court right now.

The sight of Rosehall came into view and Tamlin felt a heavy weight settle over his shoulders, he spoke to Lucien while his eyes examined every detail of his home. “Organise dinners, celebrations, prepare for the upcoming holidays. Pay special attention to the farmers, whatever they need, send it to them. The doors of Rosehall are completely open to the public and any that come in seeking refuge from other Courts. And Lucien.”

Tamlin stopped and Lucien halted as well, his brown eyes meeting green, “Make preparations for the tithe, we need to get it back up and running. We are barely holding on as it is, with everything Amarantha has done we cannot afford the losses that have hit us.”

Lucien nodded, Tamlin went on, “Most of the money and jewels from the treasury were stolen and until we send people back under the mountain to retrieve what they can we are on a tight budget. Every coin goes straight into the refugees, the farmers and the villages that have lost their homes.”

“Of course, but Tamlin-”

“The people are in low spirits and the magic will sense that. Spring thrives off of fertility and celebration from the Fae. I haven't even seen the wisps since before we went under the mountain. Until the native creatures of the land return we are in emergency mode. I want a list of everyone we lost to Amarantha, I need a spreadsheet of the damages and the costs necessary to return everything to its former glory, until we are back to normal we will not rest-”

“Tamlin Kali Fairburn!” Lucien eventually yelled.

Tamlin blinked, then he blinked again. Lucien gritted his teeth, the light hitting the emissary in just the right way that his skin seemed to glow with his frustration, “You are stressing yourself out for no reason.”

Tamlin gawked at that, “There is a reason, our Court is still half in ruins-”

The fire lord marched forward and put his hands on his shoulders, “And I will help you to restore it. But you cannot try and handle everything yourself.”

“I am not trying to do everything myself-”

“You are thinking of everything at once, when you need to calm down.” Lucien’s head fell, he took several deep breaths, “Listen, Tam. Like it or not we… you are now responsible for another life.”

Tamlin bristled at that, fangs starting to point through his teeth. Claws pressed against his skin, threatening to burst through.

“Tamlin.” Lucien said slowly, “I know you don’t want to think about this, but that doesn’t change the fact that Spring is…” Lucien took another steadying breath, like he was falling apart at the news himself, “Spring is having an Heir.”

There were the words that crushed Tamlin even more. This… it wouldn’t be just another baby, but an Heir of Spring, a possible successor. A potential future ruler of the Spring Court.

They had no choice but to think about this.

“We will take this one step at a time.” Lucien moved his hands down to clasp his friends, thumbs rubbing the backs of his palms.

Tamlin stared down at the dark fingers massaging gentle circles into his skin. He closed his eyes, the headache pounding harder. He was so fucking tired.

“This is awful.” Tamlin whispered into the space between them.

“I know Tam.” Lucien murmured, his voice near drowned out by the sounds of laughter in the distance.

He felt like he might collapse. A headache pushed into his temple. He noticed a flicker of movement, and then saw that it was in fact a butterfly, small and blue and clueless. Making laps around their heads.

“It’ll be okay.” Lucien reassured him. It was false, they had no idea if it would be okay.

***

It was not okay.

It was absolutely not okay.

He had a headache all the time and sleep became a luxury he apparently could not afford. All of a sudden complaints pushed from all sides as bandits began to infiltrate the Southern and Western borders. Seeing quick money and easy blood to draw.

Many of the servants and sentries had left the grounds for other Courts in order to visit family after the Curse’s conclusion. With quickly hired, inexperienced staff, the grounds began to descend into chaos.

Not to mention how everyone was coping. That being barely.

Nowadays even into the dark hours of the morning, every hall was lit and not a single room didn’t have some form of a faelight and an open window. No one wished to be forced back into darkness, and everyone needed the reassurance of open, blowing air.

The second Tamlin had stepped foot back into his office he was thrown back into work. Now, days didn’t end until he was near passing out from exhaustion and they started the second the ray of first light hit his face.

He wasn’t the only one. Lucien he barely saw anymore, as much as the Fox of Prythian attempted to check on him, they both lost all sense of time. Unable to keep up with their workloads and desperately attempting to pull the Court back into order.

With everything going on, Tamlin had yet to tell anyone about… it.

Alis had tried to push for answers, but even with all her stubbornness, the female knew when she had to back off. The quick snappish answers and flare in temper were enough to tell her, it wasn’t time for her to ask what happened that day with the healer. But Tamlin could tell she was worried.

With everything happening. Tamlin had forgotten the last time he even so much as laid eyes on Feyre.

He was sure he saw her during the nights at some point, but as everything merged into a dazed blur of work, work, work, he couldn’t be sure.

That wasn’t even including the constant strain from symptoms.

Vomiting, and headaches were just the start of it. At times he could barely keep his eyes open even after hours of sleep. If he stood too quickly, all blood rushed from his head and black spots filled his vision. Random outbursts became more prevalent, everything setting him on edge.

"Dear Gods," He cursed, rubbing his temples. Elbows planted on his desk. Tamlin screwed his eyes shut as yet another wave of throbbing crashed over him.

There was a light rapping at his door. Tamlin didn't need to look up as the door opened to know who it was. The scent of cinnamon spice was enough telling.

"Tam." Lucien said tenderly.

Without opening his eyes, Tamlin said, "Lucien Vanserra, if the next words out of your mouth aren't, here is a giant cookie and hot chocolate, I will toss you over the border and back into Autumn."

There was a heartbeat of silence.

Tamlin wouldn't throw Lucien back into Autumn, Tamlin quite liked Lucien.

He would very possibly steal and hide all of his left shoes. Lucien was fully aware of that.

Lucien left the office, and when he returned, he opened the door saying, "Here is a giant cookie and hot chocolate."

Indeed, he was carrying a tray with a giant chocolate chip cookie and two mugs of steaming hot chocolate that made Tamlin's mouth water when he saw them.

Lucien is a smart man. Everyone should be like Lucien, Tamlin thought.

Setting the tray on the dark wood coffee table by the empty fireplace. Lucien sat down on the green velvet lounge.

Tamlin left his desk and joined him. Settling into the soft fabric and hands immediately reaching for said cookie. Lucien smiled softly as he took up his mug.

"Heilda said it would be more comfortable to shift to female form." Lucien said as he absentmindedly toyed with the handle. His voice was soft as he broached the subject, not wishing to provoke anger.

Tamlin bit into the cookie and nearly moaned.

To shift into a female form. To stay like that. It would raise eyebrows and suspicions. And good Gods, when he started to show-

No, not thinking about that.

"So?" Tamlin asked. He knew he had to listen, he had to take into account the possibility of having an Heir for the Court.

Gods, an Heir so soon. They just came out from Under the Mountain. It was all still fresh, too fresh. He could still see her eyes above him. Pushing him down into the sheets-

No.

Not thinking about it.

"So..." Lucien traced the rim of his cup with his finger, "Perhaps you should think about listening to her."

Tamlin's eyes snapped to Lucien's to find the fiery male staring right back. He lifted a perfectly groomed red eyebrow and waited for a response. One leg crossed over the other and head held high.

Lucien didn't back down for anyone, not Beron, not Amarantha, and certainly not Tamlin.

"Or perhaps I won't." I am a grown male, and I will make my own decisions, did not need to be said for Lucien to get the gist of it.

"She is the professional, Tam." He hummed.

"Don't call me that." Not now. Don't be gentle with me.

Lucien put the mug down on the table, it banged as his hands didn't bother to control his strength.

"Alright, this has gone on long enough." Lucien said, "We need to do something about all of this."

"What do you want to do exactly?" Tamlin snapped, temper flaring.

"Gods above." Lucien rubbed his temples and Tamlin wanted to throw something.

"Come up with a goddamn game plan, Tamlin. I want to know what the next moves should be. I mean, have you even told Feyre?" Lucien bounced his knee up and down. Tamlin thought that at any moment he might get up and start pacing.

"Well I- there isn't anything that can be done Lucien!" Tamlin shouted, finally beginning to snap. He hated this. He wanted to be done with it.

And he hadn't told Feyre. He didn't want to. He didn't want to talk about it.

Like if he refused to so much as think about it, it wouldn't exist.

Lucien opened his mouth, eyes blazing and preparing to yell. Then he cut himself short and snapped his mouth shut. Face falling back into carefully crafted blankness and eyes losing any emotions at all.

Tamlin's claws nearly shot through his hands. Fire blazing through him, not just because of the subject at hand, but because of how easily Lucien put his mask on. Hiding his true thoughts so well.

Tamlin wished for the courtier mask, but no matter how hard he tried there was nothing he could do to hide himself.

Fuck this all.

"You need to tell Feyre," Lucien said, crossing his arms. Relaxing back into the lounge, as nonchalant as ever. Tamlin hated it.

"I don't need to do anything." Tamlin hissed.

Lucien chuckled and claws finally pierced to the surface. He dug them into pillow beneath them, slowly counting back from ten.

"What is so funny?"

Lucien picked up his mug again as he shook his head, "Sure you don't need to do anything Tam."

"Get out!" Tamlin shouted.

Lucien rolled his eyes, he put his mug down and slid off the lounge gracefully. A swagger in his step as he left the room, as he passed through the threshold his hand caught the door. He tossed a seething smile over his shoulder and said, "Figure it out on your own then, but figure it out, Tam."

Lucien slammed the door shut before Tamlin could yell at him.

***

Feyre wasn't happy. She didn't know when she started feeling this way, when the total weight of how she felt finally settled into her bones. Like mist in the morning, it descended slowly until she was consumed by it.

She couldn't look the Fae around her in the eyes anymore. Not without seeing the Faeries she had stabbed. The boy's screams filled her eyes at every ring of a bell or snap of a tree branch.

And dear God, the girl who had prayed before she had ended her life. The words seemed carved into her skin, she heard them in the laughter and song of the Priestesses that came in groups for lunch after long days working in the Temple. Every time those swishing robes passed her by, she remembered that prayer.

One of the Priestesses had taken a special interest in her. One of the twelve High Priestesses. Feyre knew little of how religion worked in the Fae Lands. The idea of Gods and such had never interested her. She had worked for too long back in the cabin to spend her time thinking of them.

And if they did exist certainly the Mother was laughing at her.

As of now, Feyre stared out at the gardens. She was sitting by a small table on the porch, watching dahlias sway in the wind. The grounds were covered in them, they had been a flower Elain had grown back at the cabin and then at the new manor they resided in now. One of the only plants Feyre could pin-point.

"I thought I might find you here." A voice said, breaking the silence. Feyre looked back over her shoulder and despite herself a small smile graced her lips.

"Good morning Ianthe, shouldn't you be at a ceremony or such?" Feyre asked.

Ianthe chuckled, her voice and sweet face reminded Feyre a little of Elain. But her overall demeanor and strange stoniness reminded her of Nesta.

"No, the girls are handling everything this morning. I have a break."

Ianthe strolled over to where Feyre was sitting. She pointed to the chair opposite of her and asked, "May I?"

"Please." Feyre said.

Ianthe gracefully slid into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. She did not wear her robes this morning. Her body still completely covered. However, the layers of her dark blue dress were lighter to account for the warmer weather this morning. A pale blue silk scarf covered her head so only a few curling blonde hairs fell around her face.

"Did it hurt? The tattoo I mean." Feyre eventually asked. The tattoo of the phases of the moon, they interested Feyre. Whilst she now had a swirling tattoo along her arm, that one had been stained magically.

Violet cruel eyes. Taunting hands and a laughing voice.

No. Not thinking about him.

Ianthe watched the swaying gardens as she answered. Her face was not cold, but it wasn't warm either. Like a stoic mother, Feyre thought.

"Yes, but it was worth it to be given this honour." Ianthe answered.

Feyre hummed, "Did you always want to be a High Priestess?"

Ianthe chuckled, finger tracing her knee, "My, my, many questions this morning."

The Archeron sister stiffened for a moment, "You don't need to answer if it makes uncom-"

Ianthe lifted a slender hand, she turned her full eyes back to Feyre and smiled, "I am teasing Feyre."

"Oh."

"As for your question, I always knew I wanted to be part of the Court. I worked well with the others. And I knew I could help this Court, the way the former High lord ruled he..."

Ianthe cut herself off as a darkness filled her eyes. Her mouth twisted into a straight line. Feyre furrowed her brow, concern beginning to creep in, "He...?"

Ianthe quickly shook her head and straightened, pulling herself from her thoughts, "He just... He wasn't a good male and I knew I could do something to help. As for becoming a High Priestess specifically I-"

Now a soft smile adorned her face as she lifted her eyes to the white sun's rays.

"I have always had an affinity for the Mother and her creation."

Feyre turned her own eyes back to the dahlia flowers. Blooming prettily as if not just months before the Spring Court had been ravaged and left in ruins.

"The world is going back to normal." Feyre noted.

Ianthe laughed suddenly, and Feyre snapped her eyes back to her.

The High Priestess shook her head and murmured, "Nothing will ever be normal again."

"You weren't even here for the fifty years," Feyre pointed out, recalling what Lucien had told her before. How Ianthe's father had sent her and her sisters to the continent right as the curse was hitting.

At her words Ianthe balled her dress up into her fists, "You don't know my story."

"Then tell me." I will listen, Feyre wanted to say.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Ianthe watched her. Blue eyes like sapphires in the light, "You won't understand."

"Try me."

A shake of her head and an amused smile, "Count the blessings you have flower, appreciate them. For at any moment, they can all be taken."

Feyre blinked. Then her face fell into deadpan.

What was it with Fae and their riddles?

Ianthe threw her head back as she laughed at Feyre's confusion, "Flower just know not to take the word of Faeries at face value."

Ianthe leaned back into her chair and Feyre asked, "Can you guys just... tell me what you mean?"

A sly smile and glinted eyes, "Now where's the fun in that?"

***

She hated her reflection. She stood in front of the mirror as Ianthe carefully placed a crown of daisies and dahlias in her hair.

"Why dahlias?" Feyre had asked.

Ianthe had shrugged, "You seemed to like them."

They had gone through enough dresses to last Feyre a lifetime. She had never liked dresses and today did not change that. She longed for something she could move in. Felt like restricted in. But she sucked it up.

Ianthe had brought in a myriad of different dresses for her to try. To find one she liked best.

"Do they all have to be so..." Feyre had gestured to large puffy sleeve and Ianthe had snickered.

"For the record these were the former Lady of Spring's dresses."

Feyre had gone very, very still at that. Guilt shocking through her at how she hadn't liked the look of them.

Ianthe had then rolled her eyes, "Do not fret, child, the Lady hadn't particularly adored them either. But it is tradition to wear the dresses of the former Lady. This were the Lady of Spring's before hers, and before hers. Now they will be yours."

Ianthe had then reassured Feyre, "Just for today at least, then they'll go back into a bag and into the closet to sit for the next several centuries."

Feyre had laughed suddenly at that, and the knot of anxiety welling in her stomach had begun to ease.

Feyre had then rifled through the atrocious amount of fabrics. And eventually her hands landed on one particular dress. It was the biggest of them all, with an atrocious amount of tulle, lace and puffs. It was beautiful, Feyre could admit as much as that. But it was... so much.

Feyre had bit down on her lip, trying not to laugh. Then she had looked at Ianthe whose eye was twitching as she pursed her lips, desperately keeping her own laughter down.

They met each other's sights and were helpless but to fall into hysterics.

The dress had been laid on the bed, but Feyre had decided on a far simpler one. Long, green silk simple sleeves, and a high neckline that opened just above her cleavage. The corseted part of the dress was embroidered with gold designs and tightly hugged her waist. Her far too small waist. As Ianthe had tied the back her eyes flicked up to Feyre in the mirror, hands still on the strings.

Feyre had looked down, Ianthe continued and neither spoke of just how frail she had become. The High Priestess occasionally opened her mouth to say something, just to snap it closed. Ianthe didn't appear to know how to comfort, how to reassure. So, she didn't try.

Now the look was complete. Feyre watched herself in the mirror. The long green skirts of her dress swirled as she moved.

"There." Ianthe said. Feyre met her eyes in the mirror.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

Feyre didn't answer. She thought back on that day in the field when Tamlin had proposed to her, how happy she had been. How in so long the memories of Under the Mountain hadn't haunted her.

Yet after all was said and done, it all came back. All had asked to show them the ring and expected her to gush about the future wedding and her engagement. Yet all enthusiasm had drained from her. Like the second Tamlin was not directly in front of her she no longer felt that passion any longer.

It was just nerves. Nothing else. Once this day was said and done it would no longer bother her.

"Yes."

Ianthe nodded, her eyes firm and set on Feyre through the mirror. A heartbeat passed and Feyre said, "We best be going then."

As she moved to leave. Ianthe put her hands on Feyre's shoulders, "One moment, my Lady."

The Cursebreaker furrowed her brow but remained still. Ianthe didn't break eye contact as she swiftly pulled a necklace out from underneath her robes. It swung from her neck, a beautiful green emerald that shone in the light. It was small and hung from a golden chain.

Feyre blinked, opening her mouth to ask what was happening. But Ianthe answered her question, as she unclasped the necklace and swiftly placed it around Feyre's throat.

"Ianthe-" Feyre started.

"Take it, Cursebreaker." As she let it hang from Feyre's neck she murmured, "You may need it."

"Need it?" Feyre whispered.

Ianthe just smiled, "Trust me."

"You said yourself not to take the words of Fae at face value." Feyre countered.

"I did." She stated.

Before Feyre could once again point out the blatant hypocrisy, Ianthe said, "Try to see past the person, Feyre. Try and see what may lay underneath."

***

He hated his reflection. Standing in front of the mirror whilst Alis fixed his hair and jacket burned a flaming rage deep in his core, but there was little he could do. Other than stand still and allow the Summer Faery to do her work.

"You look very handsome." Alis smiled up at him as she stepped back, admiring her handiwork.

Tamlin tried to give her a smile back, but he could only manage a weak nod as he stared at himself.

Shell of a person. Eyes sunken from lack of sleep, skin unnervingly pale, gaunt, hollow.

At least the suit was well made, tailored, green with whites and golds. Alis had braided flowers through his hair and dusted his face with just the slightest of makeup, she told him it was for the look to come together perfectly. But he knew it was to coverup the deadness in his face.

The lesser faery opened and closed her mouth. Eyebrows furrowing. Tamlin nearly groaned.

"What is it, Alis?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, brushing away a speck of lint from his shoulder. Tamlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I am sure." He said, finally turning away from that godforsaken mirror. He faced the door of his bedroom. Lucien stood there. Dressed to the nines in green. Far more understated than Tamlin but just as gorgeous.

"Ready?" Lucien asked.

Tamlin shifted under his piercing gaze. The Fox scrutinized every inch of him, he was on display, wholly and completely.

"I'm fine." Tamlin settled to say. He wouldn't admit how he felt sick to his stomach and the fluttering of anxiety was threatening to send running to bathroom to throw up once again.

He held strong. He wouldn't be made weak. No matter how weak he truly felt.

Lucien didn't believe that for a second. But he said nothing as he moved from the doorway and said, "Well then, the wedding is on in less than five minutes."

Feyre hesitated from her place at the end of the aisle.

Her eyes agitated, hands shaking. Tamlin held his breath. She looked beautiful, but Feyre was always beautiful. A ring of flowers adorned her head, her eyes held the wedding venue before her.

Ianthe was the one she watched; Tamlin risked a glance at the Priestess who watched Feyre closely. Slowly she raised a hand, and with a soft voice beckoned, "Come, Lady of Spring."

Feyre loosened a breath, her chest rising and falling with measured, calculated breaths. She took a step forward and Tamlin's chest constricted. He sucked in a breath, and she took another step forward. The knot pulled tighter and tighter.

He remembered when she had been dragged in by Attor. Tossed to Amarantha's feet.

Panic had filled him. He had nearly fainted. Surely, she wasn't there, because he had sent her back. She was back in the human lands there was no possible way for her to have come Under the Mountain.

Yet there she had been.

The image faded in and out. Shifting from Feyre's perfect, unmarked face to the bruised snarling face she had worn that day so many months ago.

She took a step forward.

He was going to throw up.

Then she took a step back.

For a second, for a fleeting moment, the knot in his chest loosened and he felt like he could breathe again.

Then she took another step back. The knot tightened once more.

Eyes widened, and whispers erupted in the crowd of Fae.

Fuck.

No.

Like a rope pulled him forward, Tamlin took a step towards Feyre. The world slowed to one moment in time. She stumbled further back, shaking her head. And Tamlin stepped further into the aisle.

Something snapped in her gaze. She turned on her heel and sprinted.

There was a gasp, and hot white rage flew through the High lord. Filling his veins, breaking something that had been pulled taut for too long now.

He nearly launched into a run after her.

"Tamlin." Lucien hissed, as he lept forward and pulled Tamlin back.

Tamlin turned around to snarl at him, but in a second they were gone. Winnowed.

Tamlin shouted into the darkness that enveloped them. And by the time they landed he was screaming curses at the red head. Lucien didn't seem to care.

They were in his study. The window were open and sunshine was pouring in. Yet the house was empty as the grounds descended into chaos as the groom and bride had each disappeared.

"Why did you-" Tamlin shouted, but Lucien snapped.

"She was running away, what were you going to do?! Grab her and force her to marry you!" Lucien shouted, whilst pointing a finger into Tamlin's chest.

"You-"

"Don't start with me Tamlin! We will find her, but for now calm the fuck down!"

Tamlin blinked, initial rage simmering into something else entirely.

What just happened.

In the span of a few seconds, he had gone from jittering at the altar, watching his bride, then watching her run from him as he attempted to go after her.

He must have looked as shocked as he felt, because Lucien put a hand on each of his shoulders and guided him to the lounge.

"Sit." Lucien ordered, Tamlin obeyed. Staring into nothing, mind horribly blank.

Eventually one smaller thought came to mind, "I thought I wasn't allowed to winnow."

"You can in short distances, I spoke to Heilda. But she recommended it be someone else doing to actually winnowing."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Lucien sat down on the arm of the lounge.

"What do I do now?"

Lucien stared at him and for the first time said, "I have no idea."

***

"Feyre!"

Feyre didn't respond to the call. She crossed her arms and pressed further back into the trunk of the tree she was sitting in. Her knees bent, keeping her curled into the branch and just out of sight.

"Feyre oh sh- Mother lead me." Ianthe hissed as she caught herself from cursing, "Where is that girl?"

Feyre craned her neck to look down. She saw Ianthe holding up her pale blue robes in one hand and her shoes in the other as she trod through grass and mud.

"Feyre! I know you're out here somewhere!"

Somewhere indeed, currently right above her.

Ianthe screwed eyes shut and sighed deeply, "Couldn't have run somewhere inside, no we had to go out into the forest."

Despite the guilt and shame, the anxiety and hurt knotting and writhing in her stomach, threatening to make her lose her breakfast. Feyre chuckled.

Bad decision, as Ianthe straightened, her fae senses alerting her to the sound.

Ianthe whirled her head back and forth, "Feyre?"

Feyre had the muffle her laughter with the palm of her hand. But it wasn't enough to escape the hearing of the High Priestess.

Finally, Ianthe furrowed her brow and looked right up. Her confusion fell into deadpan as she saw the Cursebreaker nestled in a branch.

Mouth pursing, Ianthe gripped her robes a little tighter then asked, "Flower why are you in a tree?"

It hit her again.

As she had walked down the aisle. Seen the people, the faces staring and waiting. Seen Tamlin watching her. Then had seen Ianthe.

Permanant. Permanently stuck here. Permanently with the memories. Seeing everyone watching, like they had watched Under the Mountain.

That prayer had rushed through her head again. And she saw their faces when she stabbed them.

"Feyre?"

Feyre looked back down to Ianthe, but gritted her teeth and did not answer.

"Feyre." Ianthe said, deadpan, "Do not make me climb a tree."

Still Feyre remained silent whilst she brooded on her branch.

Ianthe's eye twitched. And finally she sighed heavily, mumbling something about the Mother punishing her.

"Fine! Fine." She said, dropping her shoes and letting her robes down from her hand.

Then Feyre watched as the pristine, tidy, and uptight High Priestess of Spring, grabbed onto a branch and planted her foot into the trunk. Climbing the tree.

She nearly slipped and fell, a curse nearly falling from her lips before she caught herself.

Her robes got caught on a sharp piece of bark and there was a ripping sound. Ianthe made a disgusted sound, before she climbed up higher and higher.

Finally, after clumsily forcing her way onto a branch right beside Feyre, she sat down. Panting heavily. Then she checked the small hole made in the hem of her robes.

She gritted her teeth but ultimately let it fall away as she faced why she came out here.

"Feyre, lovely spot you have here." Ianthe said, sarcasm lacing her voice.

"Thanks, picked it out myself." Feyre snapped.

The High Priestess sighed, "Feyre, you have to come down."

"Yes, I have to go down. And I have to go back to the wedding, don't I?" She snapped.

Ianthe observed her for a moment, before shifting uncomfortably. Stoic face seemingly trying to figure out what the best course of action was. Thinking logically, no doubt just wondering what the quickest way to get Feyre back to the wedding was.

It struck her that Ianthe didn't actually care what Feyre was feeling. She was doing as she was told, no other reason. It made Feyre feel all the more alone.

Back in that dungeon, with nothing to keep her company but her will and a bargain.

"Do you... Do you not wish to marry him?" She asked.

Feyre gritted her teeth, she screwed her eyes shut. Darkness pressed in and she remembered the Attor dragging her into the throne room.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to forget anything that ever happened. She wanted to go somewhere none of it ever touched her again.

"Feyre-"

"Just go away Ianthe I don't want to speak to you!" She shouted.

Ianthe bristled, "I am just trying to help-"

"Well you aren't!"

Now, her face iced over. Stone cold and fed up, "We have to go back, now either we can go willingly together, or I will get the sentries and they will drag you back."

A tremor ran up her spine at the threat, "I don't want to go back, Ianthe."

Ianthe loosened a tight breath, "Feyre, let's go home now."

"No."

"Archeron-" Her tone was warning.

"I don't- I don't want to go back." Feyre insisted.

Ianthe scrunched her nose slightly, eyebrows furrowing. Then her face evened out and her voice sweetened, "Feyre, we must go back."

The sudden change in tone, in face, a lure. An attempt at false comfort. The Priestess held out her hand.

Feyre looked at the pale hand before her.

Then at the ground.

Back to the pale hand.

Feyre reached out and Ianthe smiled.

The Cursebreaker batted her hand away with enough force that Ianthe shouted but nearly fell off balance. Giving Feyre enough to time to jump to the forest floor and bolt.

"Feyre Archeron!" Ianthe clung to the branch as she watched Feyre's form disappear further into the dark forest.

Slowly she took inhaled, before releasing her breath. She closed her eyes and asked the sky, "Why, why, why, why, why?"

Feyre ran and ran and ran. She lost a shoe but she didn't care. The feeling of dirt underfoot somehow comforting. Reminding her she was still there and breathing. In the wind, in the open space. Not in that cave, not Under the Mountain.

Yet still there. Always there like it followed her. A ghost of those months looming over her head.

She reached a clearing of grass and wildflowers. She fell to her knees. Legs unable to hold her any longer.

She shook, trembling hands and arms. She should've been able to run faster and far further than that.

But looking at her arms, they were spindly. Her legs which were sticks compared to what they had once been. She felt her cheeks, her face which was hollowed out.

Her fingers to skinny, her organs pressed against the skin of her torso.

When was the last time she had eaten? Had felt the urge to eat anything?

She licked her lips, her throat dry. The air was suffocating. Pollen that was sickeningly sweet. Air open, without any end.

A part of her wondered whether she had ever come out from Under the Mountain, feared, dreaded that at any moment she would awaken.

She heaved a sob, cries racking through her too fragile bones. Like she was made of glass she trembled.

Feyre felt like she was made of glass. Like at a single touch she might crack and fall into a thousand pieces and never be able to be put back together again.

'Make it stop.' She cried in her mind, sniffling, 'Someone make it all stop.'

'Take me away.' She pleaded with nothing.

There was the sound of stick cracking underfoot and Feyre's head snapped up.

But instead of Ianthe or sentries, violet eyes shone down upon her.

"Hello Feyre Darling."

"You!" Someone shouted, Rhysand and Feyre looked up to see Ianthe panting as she pointed to Rhysand.

Feyre had never seen her quite so dishevelled. But rage lined her features.

Rhysand however, simply smirked, before grabbing Feyre's arm as she screamed. The Night Lord lifted her tattooed hand and pointed to it.

"Don't mind me, pretty Priestess, I am simply collecting."

And just like that.

Rhysand winnowed them away.

***

"What do you mean she's gone?" Tamlin asked, voice near breathless.

Ianthe's eye was twitching relentlessly. She looked as though she had been dragged through a thorn bush. Then again if she had run after Feyre she may have been. Stick and leaves were stuck in her hair, some parts of her robes were torn. And dirt smudged her cheek.

"I mean she was whisked away by the Night Court." Ianthe said, "Our worst fears came true, and Rhysand made good on his word."

"Bastard son of a bitch." Lucien cursed from behind Tamlin.

Tamlin said nothing, unable to move. His eyes turned to Alis by the door who looked between the Priestess and the High lord with sympathetic eyes.

Slowly it lapped at his core. Rage that made his eyes start to black out. His hands trembling by his sides.

Chest rising and falling quicker.

Ianthe looked him up and down, then said to Lucien, "I'll leave you two to deal with this. I am going to have a six-hour long bath."

In a second the Priestess was gone. Alis following after her.

"Lucien, get out." Was the only warning Tamlin gave him.

Lucien's eyes went wide, and he sprinted out the door, slamming it closed.

And Tamlin's magic exploded in a second.

The High lord screamed as his magic ripped through him. flooding his veins with uncontrollable, overwhelming power. He screamed and fell to his knees. A ringing filled his ears, his vision went white.

When it resided, a sob wracked his body as shaking overtook him. His skin heated, getting hotter and hotter until his clothes were soaked with sweat. Trembling, Tamlin tried to pull himself to stand, but he suddenly doubled over and threw up.

The door flung open and Lucien shouted something he couldn't hear. The world was a swirling, dizzy haze of nothing.

Someone gasped and Tamlin looked up to see Alis sprinting for him. The female cupped his face, and Tamlin blacked out.

Link to chapter 2 is here! Link to chapter 3 is here!

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tiredfairywings · 1 month

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Want to make a PJSK Artist Suffer? Read my Fanfic!

So because I want attention (frfr) and I want people to read my fic (frfr) and interact with my fic (frfr) I am making a parody of those sub goals those twitch/youtube/modern kids run (sounding old on purpose frfr). [Is frfr getting old?] If we hit these goals I will either make or pay an artist (which means you potential artist can be hired!!) to make these goals real! Yes that's right! You dear reader can contribute to this fic's success and get funny/interesting stuff out of this! So share this with your friends, especially if you want an unsuspecting creator to suffer pain! I'm not a masochist I swear Key: * = Animatic ** = Song (That's right. A voice reveal and my cringe singing- Gonna start singing lessons frfr) *** = Fic/Writing **** = Animation ***Abridged aka Comedic/Unserious Version of this Fic - 1000 Hits and 100 Kudos *BROKE MY HEART Meme (w/ Ena) - 1500 Hits and 200 Kudos *Happy Day in Hell Animatic (w/ Emu) - 2000 Hits and 350 Kudos *Time to be Awesome (w/ WxS) - 2750 Hits and 425 Kudos *Fiction [Wotakoi: Love is Hard for an Otaku OP] Storyboard/Animatic OP for this Fic - 3500 Hits and 500 Kudos *Can't Help Falling in Love with You (w/Airi) - 4000 Hits and 650 Kudos Tbh I don't believe that we'll get this far so if we do, I'll edit this. If we don't, I say, I told yall so. *Let it go Fire!Elsa Parody (w/ Ena) - *Barbie Diamond Castle Parody Animatic (w/ Kanade & Honami) - *Let it go Earth!Elsa Parody (w/Mafuyu) - *Good for you ver 1 (w/ Kanade + the old elemental spirits) - *Did I mention (w/ Touya & Ena) - *Let it go Air!Elsa Parody (w/ Kanade) - *It starts with Sorry (w/ Emu & Tsukasa) - *I'll Make a Man out of You (w/ Tsukasa [+ WxS] & Kohane[+ Minori & Haruka]) - *Let it go Water!Elsa Parody (w/ Mizuki) - *Reaching out Miraculous (w/ Ichika) - **Sofia the First theme song Parody (w/Minori) - *Ruu's Melody Genshin (w/ Kanade & Honami & Kanade's Parents) - *Into the Sky (w/ Kanade & Mafuyu) - *Is he Gay or European (w/ Touya) - *Little Miss Perfect (w/Shizuku) - *Mephisto ED for this Fic (w/ Everyone) - *Make a Minori the First Animatic - *Heather Animatic (w/ Akito, Ena, and Touya) - *Perfect Day from Barbie Princess and the Popstar (w/ Minori & Haruka) - *Once Upon A Time the Musical (w/ everyone) - *Perfect by Simple Plan (w/ Touya) - *The Pony I wanna be (w/ Airi & Shiho) - *The Magic Inside (w/ Shizuku) - *You'll Play your Part (w/ Kanade + Old Elemental Spirits) - *Loathing Animatic (w/ Mafuyu and Rui) - *Crush Song Meme (w/ Ena) - *Never Acting At All (w/ Nene & Tsukasa) - *My Once Upon a Time (w/ An) - *For Good (w/ Kanade & Mafuyu ) - *Alive Arknights (w/ Shiho) - *Requiem (w/ Various) - *Satisfied (w/ Ena, Akito, & Touya) - *Flower Tower (w/ Saki & Emu & Tsukasa & Leo/Need) - *Loser, Baby (w/ Mizuku & Ena) - *Someone Gets Hurt Reprise (w/ Nene & Tsukasa) - *Good for you ver 2 (w/ Mafuyu + Emu, Rui, Kanade) - *Pinkie's Lament (w/ Emu) - *Guitar, Loneliness, and Blue Planet (w/ LeoNeed) - *More than I Fear You (w/ Touya & Touya's dad) - *Nothing Left to Lose Frozen Rewrite ver. (w/ Mizuki & Rui) - *You Didn't Know Hazbin (w/ Various) - *Crossing the Line Frozen II Rewrite Ver. (w/ Mafuyu & Rui) - *Stand from ZOMBIES (w/ Kohane) - *This Day Aria (w/Emu & Rui & Mafuyu & Kanade & Mafumom) - *Ready as I'll ever Be (w/ Various) - *Omake Pfadlib (w/ Everyone) - *Out for Love (w/ Kanade & Rui) - *Open up your Eyes (w/ Rui & Mafumom) - *Space Between (w/ LeoNeed) - *17 sai (w/ Mafuyu) - *The Guy I'd Kinda be Into (w/ Ichika & Shiho) - *Unsung Melodies (w/ everyone) - *Fashion Meme (w/ Everyone) - *I do adore (Multiship shhhh- Spoilers) - *Written in Your Heart Finale from Barbie Princess and the Pauper (w/ everyone) - ****Sugar Song to Bitter Step Animation or Animatic (w/everyone) -

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rollercoasterwords · 11 months

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Hi! I found your blog through the female rage substack article that you posted and I’m curious about a couple things (so I hope the tone of this ask will read as genuine/non-confrontational etc).

I really liked the article and the anti-gender essentialist content, so I looked through the others and eventually found your jegulus article (which I read and also liked) but I was sort of surprised to see that you are a part of the hp/marauders fandom. For me personally, everything related to that franchise has just been tainted since the whole jkr terf debacle really took off. I was big on hp when I was younger and wolfstar is a ship/dynamic that I enjoyed back then, so I’d probably like your stuff if I were to read it. But I decided some time ago to give any and all hp content the chop, because to me it didn’t feel right to engage with it anymore. So I was just wondering how you feel in that regard, if you don’t mind sharing. I don’t have anyone in my internet content circle that still actively posts about hp and if irl friends still enjoy it then it’s not something we talk about, so I’d just like to know how you juggle the ‘two sides’ in that sense of your trans-positive/anti-essentialist beliefs and fandom content that’s still so intrinsically connected to jkr and her politics. (Also, sorry if you’ve answered a question like this before. I scrolled through your blog a bit, but if yes then not far enough.)

Anyway, hope you’re well and I’ll probably keep an eye out for any future essays on your substack even if I don’t follow you on here. cheers! (and thanks for the “playing the whore” book rec, I’ll be looking into that. a rec from my end would be paul b. preciado's "can the monster speak". it's the written version of a speech he tried to give at a Freudian psychoanalysis conference about the position trans people occupy in psychoanalysis before being booed off stage. it was short and pretty intriguing, in case you're interested/haven't heard of it yet.)

hi! happy 2 hear u enjoyed the female rage essay--i wasn't expecting it to spread as much as it did + had to turn off reblogs for my own peace of mind 2 keep terfs away from my blog, but it's nice to know there are still people getting something out of it. also appreciate the book rec--that definitely sounds up my alley + i'm excited to check it out!

and i'll do my best to answer your question about hp, but i'm gonna put it under a cut because i know this is a contentious topic + i have a feeling my answer's gonna get long--so if anyone doesn't want 2 read abt my conflicting hp-fandom thoughts, just scroll away please xx

so, quite honestly, i'm in agreement with you that the entire franchise is tainted by jkr. the truth is that it was never really my intention to join the fandom--i read a single fic because it went viral on tiktok, then decided to rewrite the fic from another character's pov just for fun. at that point, i hadn't read any other hp fic and had never been involved in any kind of online fandom space, and although i'd read the hp books + watched the movies growing up i hadn't touched them in years + was so far removed from the franchise that i vaguely remembered hearing jkr had said some terfy stuff, but wasn't aware of the extent to which her politics were like. actively and significantly causing real-life harm.

anyway, i'd done a rewrite for fun of another story i liked and had posted it on ao3, and that had received a handful of people commenting + talking about the story with me as i wrote but had remained pretty self-contained + small. i was expecting the same sort of thing with the hp fic i rewrote, but instead someone posted about it on tiktok and it went viral, and then suddenly there were thousands of people reading every ch update and hundreds of comments. like i said, i had never been involved in an online fandom space before, so i sort of awkwardly stumbled into it and tried to figure out what i was doing as i finished up writing the fic. this was at a point in my life where i'd recently moved to a different country and had to go back in the closet after being publicly out for years, and this online fandom space became my only queer community and a bit of a lifeline in that way. i started making actual friends and talking to people + getting more deeply involved in the community aspect of things.

at the same time, i started actually educating myself on jkr + her politics + her impact, and the more i learned the more uncomfortable i became with being part of anything hp-related. now, i've been writing hp fic for almost two years and 'active' in the fandom for ~one and a half, and despite being grateful for the friends i've made and treasuring the space i've been able to cultivate, i've become increasingly disenchanted with 'the fandom' as a whole and have increasingly found it to be a hostile space, so i've sort of taken a step back from broader engagement and more + more have limited my interaction to just my mutuals here on tumblr. unfortunately, i think many of the 'bad parts' of this fandom are somewhat built-in because of the source material; there are a lot of people who agree with jkr's politics to varying extents and that can make it kind of a miserable place to be sometimes. i know many people insist that hp can be completely removed from jkr, but i don't think that's the case, and i've talked on my blog before about the fact that her politics are built into the very foundations of the text, so i think it's necessary to acknowledge her influence if we want to actually engage with hp at all in a way that isn't just perpetuating her politics.

all that being said, the point i'm at currently is that i'm not really sure that this fandom is a space i want to be a part of forever. again--i understand how it can be lifeline for some people and a queer community they might not have elsewhere, because that's been the case for me. but for me personally, as much as i value my own carved-out space, it doesn't completely outweigh the negatives that i have found myself coming into contact with more and more in this fandom. writing hp fic is also something that i keep strictly separate from 'real life,' contained solely in this online space, because i know that any engagement with hp is a red flag for many, many trans people and i don't want to bring it outside of this space. within this online space, i don't keep it a secret that i write hp fic; it's right at the top of my blog so that anyone who wants to can easily block and unfollow me. i only post my fics on ao3, where they are clearly tagged as harry potter fanfiction, and i only post about hp fic + fandom stuff on this blog, which was specifically created for that purpose. i've requested that people no longer post about my hp fics on platforms like tiktok where the algorithm could send it out onto anyone's fyp, and that request is also in my pinned faq. keeping my hp fic as contained as possible to only people who are already engaging with hp fic is one way that i try to mitigate any harm that might be caused by my fics contributing to hp's ongoing popularity.

the other ways i try to mitigate potential harm are by actively discouraging people from giving any financial support to hp + jkr and by being very vocal about my politics on this page, so that anyone who is following me will be getting pro-trans and anti-gender essentialism politics along with any hp engagement. i also don't engage with hp uncritically; i am specifically critical of the shitty politics in the books both in my posts on this blog and my fics themselves. i don't make it a secret that i think the books are politically rotten all the way down through to the foundations.

none of this is to say that there's, like...a Right Way to engage with this content or a set of rules that, if followed, Absolve All Shittiness. this is just an explanation of the personal evaluations i've had to weigh when it comes to deciding how i'm going to interact with content that is fundamentally opposed to my own politics. and again, i don't blame people who think that any amount of engagement is morally untenable and completely block it out. this is a growing source of cognitive dissonance in my own life, and i'm increasingly considering whether/for how much longer i want to continue to write fic + be involved in hp fandom. but for the time being, i'm still here + still writing fic, and i guess my feeling is that any harm that fic causes is a drop in the bucket, and even if i were to stop writing it wouldn't necessarily have a huge impact either way. i'm just some random guy online like everyone else; even though i talk about politics, that doesn't mean that i'm asking to be held up as some sort of moral standard, nor do i think anyone should be expected to be 100% politically perfect in every action they take--like, for me, writing hp fic kind of falls into the same category as like...eating mcdonalds even though i think factory farming is fucked, or buying + wearing makeup sometimes even though i think the beauty industry is fundamentally corrupt, or paying to see the new guardians of the galaxy movie in theaters even though i think marvel movies are us military propaganda. i don't think "no ethical consumption under capitalism" is an excuse to completely abandon any attempt to mitigate the harm our actions might cause, but it does matter to me the way in which someone is engaging with a fundamentally broken/corrupt piece of media beyond simply whether or not they're engaging at all. at the end of the day, it's up to everyone on their own to evaluate where they draw the line on hp, and i am not looking to make that judgment for anybody else considering that my own thoughts + feeling about it are still changing.

#ask

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cosmos-dot-semicolon · 10 days

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⭐⭐⭐

Id love to hear your ideas if you have any you'd like to share! Either from stories you've put down or concepts you have in the spares drawer!

(⭐fanfic writers' commentary)

Hmm… spares you say..?

I wrote a lot of rough drafts for the other stories in my 'Fixing the Dice' collection (uncertain on the name still), but I didn't feel they were up to my standards so I never published them. I think I'd probably change some of their plots if/when I rewrite them, so I feel safe sharing these.

You probably won't see these exact concepts come to light though. sorry.

Thief is planning an escape route with Inventor. The story focuses on showcasing the tensions he has in the main campaign with the other contestants; I picked Inventor as the character for him to bounce off of because she's crafty in a different way, and picks up on the dungeons being rigged the fastest along with him.

I don't think I ever figured out whether Lady Luck was gonna come into it for the main story, but she does show up at the end and point a finger at Inventor to be like 'that's the guy you're trusting. lmao'

From what I remember this was the draft I liked the most. It was pretty tonally solid. I think I ran out of stamina when it came to writing because I was under so much stress at the time. Also I struggled a bit with characterisation between the two, since the dice tend to be a lot shorter on dialogue than Lady Luck and Jester.

I think Witch was supposed to have a live interview with Lady Luck on her own request, which, as you can predict, doesn't go very well against someone much more experienced in entertainment and rooting for your downfall. I think I might've also had another way earlier version of her doing some fighting and magic, but I never wrote that down

I quit that one because I didn't have much to really say in it. Maybe a theme of influencer culture versus the entertainment industry? I suppose, but I don't care about either of those. I had a couple of ideas about a discussion about peoples' beliefs in magic and luck and whatever, but that felt a bit out of hand for a study on Witch's personality, who's like. A instagram user

…maybe I could make that contrast of attitudes work, actually. Try and reproduce the vibe of Eric Andre's 'did Margaret Thatcher effectively use girl power'. It'd probably still be a bastard to work with, tone-wise, but who knows?

I like to write these stories with a pinch of my own insecurities as the driving force, and I didn't really have any regarding fame at that point, so Witch was really hard to brainstorm for.

Warrior… I wanted to have him play off Jester and Lady Luck at the same time. He was kind of hard to think of a 'deal' for since he's the simplest of the four contestants in terms of character, and doesn't really pick up on Lady Luck's subtle-not-subtle evilness. The idea was instead to make this was a hope spot in the series between him and Jester, and have him trust Jester to help them find a way out, which ultimately fails.

I really struggled to find a setting for this. In the draft I wrote, I settled on a game-show-mandated road trip (they get to touch grass for one hour) out of the dungeons in that fancy car on the wheel. But it just didn't really work well tonally at all, and I personally have no experience on awkward car journeying at all, so.

Inventor I'm actually rewriting now. I've been posting snippets of it on my blog, even, since I'm no longer in contact with some of the friends who used to be my beta readers.

I don't want to spoil its new premise, but I will say the tone has changed massively from 'let's watch this nerd run around in a saw trap and solve maths puzzles that imply that the universe and all knowledge in it is fundamentally doomed' to 'Inventor's urge to know about everything in the dungeons and the world' versus 'WHY ARE YOU ASKING HER ABOUT IT'. It's a slight change, but I think it works way better with the ending I'm planning to use.

It's got a bit of commentary about how the general public reacts badly to maths and you only find respite from that with people who have learnt it sorta deal. I think Lady Luck would be the kind of deity who definitely knows the rules of her domain, given she's the one who designs the puzzles in-universe and is otherwise quite crafty, but obviously doesn't want to tell anyone any of that.

Unless. Well, unless she can get a new minion out of it.

…It's a fun time. I promise c: Now I just need to do research to make sure everything STEM-related I put in there is correct…

Jester was going to fail backstage. A fun reminder of how I was one of the few people who failed that level first try because I didn't realise it was a gimmick fight until half-way through >.>

I struggled with writing the action in this, since that's not usually a focal point of my writing. I felt that it would be useful for building up tension to an anti-climax, and we could have he rest of the story be a sense of failure and being stuck in life, but what actually ended up being written down just felt like a really stilted tonal shift from one bit I felt was obligatory to another I actually felt like doing.

also it played a little to one of my personal headcanons of Jester having a one-sided crush on their boss, with the scraps of recognition they have keeping them going despite the fact they can't leave the dungeons. This was definitely the least canon-compliant thing I put in the series, but I think it's still an interesting concept.

I will be honest. I don't think I would've handled it well. relationship angst doesn't work well with Dicey's mostly lighthearted tone I think. Nowadays I'd rather explore it with the jokey Pride Month DLC my brain cooked up because 'toxic yuri' and 'turbo divorce' are among my favourite words in the English langauge.

…not to get too personal but I think I was kind of putting way too many of my fears into that first draft and using writing it as an unhealthy coping mechanism. so. uhh. yeah after I got called out on that I was a bit embarassed and stopped. I think I'm in a better position nowadays, but as a result of that I don't really have a solid idea of where the tone would go on that story if I wrote it now.

I never really figured out what I wanted to happen to Jester in that fic. One potential ending had them being forced to cohost, like they'd always wanted. Another has the confrontation with their boss just kind of end on an impasse as they refuse to break. I think there was a bit where Lady Luck offers them their own escape at the cost of everyone else, which they did definitely refuse.

A bonus: I think I wrote one story about Warrior helping Jester move into an apartment or something after they got released. It was supposed to be a thing about finally getting to live your life the way you wanted and whatnot. I stopped writing that because I couldn't fucking fit the tone with the fact they were 5 foot tall cubes in my head

#also i have inscryption things in the works but you specifically have said that you don't want to be spoiled. so #asks #askatriangleandastar #I HAVE LAST MINUTE REVISION TO DO BUT THIS HAS BEEN IN MY BRAIN TOO LONG. SORRY FUTURE ME #fixing the dice #<- technically

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accidentalsoravoice · 1 year

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Shameless Fanfic Plug

So I write fanfiction in my free time, and I've talked a bit about my Genshin crossover fics, mainly A Link to Eternity and What a Real Heart Feels Like. But today I want to bring up my main fanfic, and the one that got me into writing. I've scrapped and discontinued the original version of the fic and I'm working on a rewrite currently. (The rest of this is under the cut if you don't want to bother reading this, just for the sake of not taking up all the space in someone's scrolling feed).

The title is More Than Just a Shield Re:Written.

The "Re:Written" is for the new version that I'm writing, since the old version fucking sucked (in my defense I was new to fanfic writing at the time).

Basically, the premise is that it's centered around an OC (original character) of mine - Aris Atreides. He and his twin sister, Loretta, are descendants of Hyrule's royal family, as well as the last of their kind after the Yiga Clan launched an unexpected, kingdom-wide attack that wiped out all of Hyrule's people except the Atreides twins. The twins traveled Hyrule in search of survivors, and along the way some stuff happened. Aris lost his arm and Loretta used her Sheikah know-how to build him a prosthesis which is powered by Aris's very soul (in the form of "Soul Energy" based on the green ghost hand thing in Tears of the Kingdom), they found the Master Sword and Aris discovered he was its chosen Hero, and they discovered gateways to other worlds. They separated and traveled from world to world on their own personal journeys, thwarting evil whenever they encountered it (all of this is set a few millennia after the events of Breath of the Wild, and since I came up with this whole thing before Tears of the Kingdom was as big as it is, for all intents and purposes it's in an alternate timeline during which TotK never happened).

One such adventure leads Aris to the kingdom of Melromarc, and throws him into the events of The Rising of the Shield Hero. He's summoned as the "Shield Hero" (replacing Naofumi Iwatani) though he can still use the Master Sword. Similar stuff happens to the show, he befriends Myne/Malty/Bitch, is betrayed and left with basically nothing but his clothes and sword, you know the drill. Then he finds a Demi-Human slave girl running from her master, a slave trader, who sends a small domesticated dragon after her. Aris saves the runaway slave and takes her to safety. The slave girl is, of course, Raphtalia, who's 17 in the fanfic for...reasons that'll come up later down the line.

That's all the story I'm gonna share here, but the other premise is that other characters appear and join Aris's party. He reunited with Loretta, hatches Filo like Naofumi did in the anime/light novel, and characters from other fandoms join his party later, too. One particularly influential fandom in the story is Kingdom Hearts.

But yeah, sorry for my rambling, that's my main fic. Read it if you wanna. Here's a cover I made for the Fanfiction.net version:

I would have commissioned some art of Aris or something, but I decided to do the easy thing and take pngs of stuff and put them together in Google Slides. There's elements from almost every fandom in the crossover: the Ouroboros from the logo of Tears of the Kingdom (Zelda), the other 3 Legendary Weapons (Shield Hero), the planet from the Smash Bros. logo of Earthbound (Earthbound/Mother 2), the planet/meteor looking thing from the logo of Final Fantasy VII (Final Fantasy VII), Sora's Keyblade (Kingdom Hearts), and Joker's mask (Persona 5). As another Kingdom Hearts reference, I kinda tried to arrange the TotK Ouroboros with the Earthbound and FFVII planets to look like Mickey Mouse. The background is also from Tears of the Kingdom.

#not an ask #daniel does fanfiction #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #botw totk #the rising of the shield hero #shield hero #tate no yuusha no nariagari #kingdom hearts #kh #earthbound #mother 2 #mother series #final fantasy vii #ffvii #ff7 #persona 5 #crossover fanfiction

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dredshirtroberts · 6 months

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okay so! in doing the WIP word finder things (super fun btw i should do that more) I acquired the wherewithal to finish the L&E prequel i may or may not have mentioned in doing that (because for some reason NONE of the words came up in it which was wild to me) because i was like "Well it might not have those words, but I could add some more" and then all of the sudden it was done?

Anyway I'm only mentioning this because i'm really proud of myself for Finishing Part of a Project and any time i do this i need to Make A Note so I Feel Good About Myself and also hopefully don't forget that it's finished. Admittedly it's Draft Numero Uno (that's number one but i'm using Spanish cause i'm fancy) (i don't know a lot more spanish than this i keep trying but i end up using a french accent 90% of the time anyway so i'm just gonna keep it to a minimum for now lol) but it's something.

OH also probably a good time to let you all know (or remind you if I've said it already it) that I'm Rewriting Lia & Em's Adventure in Thedas. You will not see it until it's done. You are likely NEVER going to see this prequel because it's primarily for my own personal use as a reference in later L&E-related storytelling. That said, just know it's Pretty Damn Good for a first draft and also I've Broken My Own Heart Already so expect more angst and shit in L&E the updated version (which will also hopefully be getting a different title).

(Do not fret, I will be leaving what I have of L&E up on AO3 for your perusal, and I will be likely drawing heavily from my favorite parts in the updated version. I think it's important to acknowledge what i've already written that people have enjoyed and keep it up, while also working to make it something I can be even more proud of in the future!)

So! If you would like to see more L&E-redux-related posting, please let me know. It's Slow Going (as I'm sure you were able to tell i have a LOT of WIPs currently running at the same time, seeing as how i had to narrow it down to the two y'all kept seeing bits of earlier today) and probably I'll mostly only have Plot Points I'm comfortable sharing as well as Vibes and potentially like. First runs of scenes that may or may not be in the final product.

#Lia & Em's Adventure in Thedas update #my writing #my fic #Lia & Em's Adventure in Thedas #L&EAiT #fic writing #on god i have not forgotten this fic nor have i given up on it #this just Happens sometimes to me where i get really far along and i go #''wait no i wanted this Differently'' and then i have to start back over at the beginning #and then it takes Forever to finish because i struggle with motivation and writing as a pair of things #but every so often the Bug will Bite Me and i'll have 10k+ written for a part i'm not even sure will make sense later on in the story #once the first bits get written #but at least i've got the prequel down #the unpublished L&E prequel

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lovebecomeshim · 3 years

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hello! your zutara posting today has finally motivated me to ask this question because I came to atla very late(last year, to be specific) and I Love It Very Much but am 1000% out of the loop as far as why what remains of fandom (at least that I've seen among my friends) is so very strongly zutara. I'm not opposed to it per se I just don't really know what has driven it to apparently be such a popular ship? can you help me understand and maybe convert me a little bit?

Hey!! Your ICON! :D I can try but I’m not sure how coherent I’ll be; however I AM sure someone a lot more competent will be willing to add to this. Either way, I’m glad you asked because my plan was to drag down as many people as possible with me.

*smacks the hood of zutara* this baby can fit so much mutual love and support!

This got so long, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to put it under a cut on mobile and it already got deleted once so I’m scared to mess with it lol. Moving on.

I’m gonna start this with a disclaimer that im on mobile so formatting is tricky and I’m also really new to atla in that I only completed my first watch through in like 2019??? So some of my info is all just based on what I’ve picked up from Discourse 👀 so anyway the sparknotes version: zutara was wildly popular from the beginning. To the point where the atla crew internally disagreed on which ship should be endgame. (Ex. Bryke [showrunners] asked the writers to rewrite The Southern Raiders to make Zuko seem less ideal for Katara than Aang [which failed, depending on who you ask]; the animation team purposefully created a visual parrallel between Oma and Shu in the Cave of Two Lovers and Zuko and Katara in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se in the Crossroads of Destiny; etc.)

The ship was popular enough that Bryke actually chose to display zk fanart at a con for the sole purpose of mocking the fans, but that’s neither here nor there. The entire episode Ember Island Players, while a love letter to/parody of the whole show, was an opportunity to address zutara’s viability as a canon pairing (while, again, mocking zutaras for romanticizing that catacombs scene). Point is! It’s always been popular but with it not being endgame, there’s got to be something that’s given it staying power.

And that’s honestly got to do with three things: their dynamic, thematic cohesion, and potential.

(You know what... you know what, it’s four things. The fourth is they’re so aesthetically pleasing together and individually. Like, they’re just good looking people [specifically when they’re grown but they’re also cute kids] and that absolutely doesn’t hurt) (but it’s not the Point, it’s just nice to point out sometimes)

The dynamic is hard to get into without also looking at the canon pairings, but I think I can do that without unnecessary bashing. It’s just that part of the magic of zutara is really highlighted by what they give to each other that their other relationships don’t.

First off, it’s classic enemies to (would be) lovers. The absolute truest form of it. It’s not too different from how CS started out: a rogue antagonist with a job to do—but no personal vendetta against the future love interest—who is deeply and emotionally invested in his personal storyline (revenge/redemption) with little regard for how it effects other people after his entire life and genuine good nature are marred by suffering, and a fierce warrior girl with a strong moral compass and her own personal investment in stopping him (protect her family and save the world doing it). Obviously frustration and animosity grew between them by the nature of them being on opposing sides, but that just lends itself to the sweetness of their later reconciliation.

The thing is that while they’re wildly different on the surface (he’s a hot-headed prince of a fascist regime who is trying to capture the Avatar to please his father; she’s a nurturing daughter of the chief who is trying to protect and train the Avatar in order to topple his father’s throne) they find out that they have so much more in common both in their experiences and their personalities.

(What follows is an excessive use of the word “both” and I’m sorry about that)(I can edit it. I can do that. That IS an option............)

They both have an innate sense of justice that they are determined to see done (zuko, at the war meeting, sticking up for the Earth Kingdom kid when the guards torment his family, choosing not to steal from the pregnant couple despite his circumstances, abiding by his word to leave the SWT should Aang come willingly, etc.; katara, literally.... at any point). They both have pretty one-track minds at accomplishing certain goals once they’ve put their mind to it, regardless of a lack of support in that endeavor (it goes without saying I guess, but zuko’s entire hunt; katara’s determination to get the earth benders to fight back, her determination to absolutely destroy Pakku until he agrees to teach her, etc.). They both lost their mothers at young ages. Their worlds are war-torn and traumatizing to them both, if in different ways, but that ultimately forces them to grow up too quickly to be wholly independent individuals. They both have issues with their fathers (for WILDLY different reasons, but). They both hold extreme prejudices that they need to learn to overcome (which ties into thematic cohesion)(bit like Lizzie and Darcy in that way but magnified by a million). They’re both extremely emotional and empathetic—which can and often does result in loud outbursts. Katara’s a bit better adjusted and can temper her anger for longer than S1 Zuko can, but they both feel that anger deeply and have no compunctions expressing it (Katara is, usually, more justified, particularly in S1. Again, S1 Zuko is severely maladjusted but at the point when they could’ve feasibly become a couple, he’s so much better off with the way he carries himself). They both struggle with feelings of inferiority in their bending abilities when confronted with prodigal benders like Aang and Azula, but have the work ethic required to double down and become two of the most powerful benders in the three remaining nations. This is a little more minor but it is a parrallel that appeals to some shippers that they both have these alter egos in the Painted Lady (notably fire nation coded) and the Blue Spirit (water tribe coded) that are pretty different from who they are day-to-day and are useful in accomplishing a purpose that they as themselves cannot.

(I’m.... I just realized that this could potentially get very long. Should I have made a slide show with bullet points??????)

Anyway, similar. I know there’s more but there’s literally so much to love about zutara that I’ll drive myself a little crazy trying to compile all the ways they’re similar. (Just gonna say that at this exact moment I went back to add more similarities.... so okay then)

Once they’ve reconciled, we see how all of these things only lend themselves to a deeper intimacy together than they share with literally anyone else. There’s a steady partnership that positions them as the mom/dad of the gaang, while also providing the support necessary to allow the other to not have to carry so much responsibility. A lot of zutaras will point out how zuko is actually depicted doing the more domestic chores that are normally relegated to Katara once he joins the gaang, since the others in the group are two 12-year-olds and sokka. The one that sticks out the most is how he makes tea for the group and then serves them, while Katara is able to just relax with her friends around the fire. Fanon expands upon this a lot to Zuko helping with the laundry or the cooking or whatever else needs doing since he, as a once-refugee, is used to doing his own domestic tasks. Before Zuko joined, Katara was the one mothering everyone, sewing for them, cooking for them, etc. She’s always tending to the needs of the group, and that includes emotionally. She does the emotional labor for the gaang 99% of the time, but when she’s the one falling apart, she’s usually doing it alone and without the comfort that she normally provides for others. Until Zuko. And that’s before they’re even friends.

Which is WHY people romanticize the catacombs of Ba Sing Se so much. Katara is verbally attacking Zuko out of her own righteous anger but also her own prejudice when Zuko, surprisingly, chooses to be vulnerable with her. He’s been on a journey that’s opened his eyes a bit, but he’s never actively chosen to expose the rawest parts of his past to anyone. But for some reason he chooses to do that with Katara of all people. While she’s yelling at him. He sees her humanity, and for once can look past his prejudice and empathize with her. And this time, when she breaks down, she gets to be comforted. Katara normally talks about her mother when she’s trying to explain to someone else that she sees and understands they’re pain, as a form of comfort to them. Here, Zuko uses the exact same tactic. He sees her and he understands. And for zuko? He’s not being shut down. He’s allowed to articulate his pain regarding his mother without being ignored and made to internalize it, and he’s allowed to process how he feels about his scar out loud without being told that he deserved it. And then he lets her touch his scar, something we’ve seen him actively avoid before. He’s completely open to her and she’s completely open to him and all it took was one five minute conversation. She was about to use the little bit of Spirit water that she had, that she was saving for something Important, to heal the scar that still daily causes him pain just because they had, somehow, connected.

Plus there’s the whole parallel to the star-crossed lovers forbidden from one another, a war divides their people—

And then zuko messes up, he regresses, he gets what he wants and he HATES it. And the sense of justice he had as a child has been restored to him against his will and he can’t think of anything he wants to do more than the Right Thing, so he joins team avatar. Before he does that though, we get to see his relationship with Mai, which is where comparison really comes in. And what we see is Zuko, fresh off of his encounter with Katara in the catacombs, trying to be emotionally honest with Mai... and getting shut down and dismissed. Which is just how Mai is and it’s fine, but not for Zuko. Still, he keeps trying, and he keeps getting ignored or scoffed at or yelled at. Which is really a larger symbol for how he doesn’t fit in his old life anymore, but again that’s about thematic cohesion. He tries to articulate his anxieties about returning home, he tries to make romantic gestures, he tries to explain how morally conflicted he’s feeling—and Mai diverts to some kind of physical affection to shut him up and a parting comment that is pretty much always, in essence, “I don’t wanna talk about this.” So they don’t. On the other hand, once zuko and Katara are friends, we see him again emotionally distraught and caught up in his anxieties about facing Iroh, and it’s Katara who comes to him and listens to him and comforts and encourages him.

Similarly, we have Aang clamming up and getting uncomfortable whenever Katara shows any negative emotion, usually resulting in him making excuses or running away. Or, in the case of the Southern Raiders, lecturing her on how she needs to just let go of her anger about her mother’s murder. People have talked this episode to death and usually better than I ever could, so imma... keep it brief. There’s a serious disconnect between Aang and Katara in his ability to empathize with Katara and her needs that has her tamping down her vulnerability and amping up her anger. He tells her that he was able to forgive his people’s genocide and appa’s kidnapping (petnapping? Theft??), which is blatantly not true but also not an entirely equal parrallel to Katara’s situation, and continues making these little remarks throughout the episode. But it’s Zuko that Katara opens up to. It’s with him that she’s able to talk about the most traumatic day of her life, and it’s with him that she’s able to get the closure she needs, cementing their bond as friends and partners. This disagreement between Aang and Katara is then... never resolved. They just never bring it up and hear what the other is saying.

There’s a fic called The Portraits of Ember Island that has a line that so completely sums up the heart of the matter for why people love their dynamic. For context, zuko has woken up early to help Katara with the cooking and they spend the whole time just letting one another talk, and zuko stops to ask why she always just lets him talk. And so she stops to ask why he’s always helping, and it goes as follows:

There’s just... so much mutual support! Trust! Intimacy!! And it just continues like that from the Southern Raiders on, listening to each other, advising each other, watching each other’s backs! And then! Literally saving each other’s lives!! I will never be over the last Agni kai. Not ever. Zuko may have been willing to jump in front of lightning for anyone, but he actually did it for Katara. And in a show, that’s the thing that really matters. It’s a fulfilled trope usually exclusively applied to romantic pairings, and it ended up applying to Zuko and Katara. And then she ran out into the middle of a fight with tunnel vision just to get to him.

Also!! Also Zuko pushing Katara out of the way of the falling rocks at the Western Air Temple!! And Katara catching him as he fell from the war balloon that he fought Azula on!! Before they’re even getting along, they’re the ones reaching for each other. They come to this place of equal ground, as partners, who watch each other’s backs, call each other out but still listen attentively and understand, and provide the support that the other has been sorely lacking up until they knew each other (whether that be from lack of effort or lack of understanding from others, or an unwillingness to accept it for themselves).

Then, trailing along under the surface of this, we see the themes of the show totally embodied by Zuko and Katara as individuals and in their relationship to one another. There’s a YouTuber, sneezyreviews, who has a, like, 2-hour explanation on why she not only loves zutara but also believes that their endgame would’ve actually elevated the writing of atla to new levels particularly because of thematic cohesion and resolved character arcs. It’s the zutara dissertation I never knew I needed, and it’s funny and eloquent and effective, so I’m just going to sum up her section on thematic cohesion to the best of my abilities and then link it for whenever you have the time. And I HIGHLY recommend it, especially if you want a full understanding of what makes zutara so great and gives it such longevity.

Guru pathik has a line that goes something like this: separation is an illusion; things that seem different are just two parts of the same whole. Iroh also tells Zuko something similar: balance and strength are achieved when the different nations come together and influence one another and celebrate what makes them each unique. And this lesson is a massive central arc that both Zuko and Katara go through, moving past a black-and-white, good guys-vs-bad guys, us-vs-them mentality and into a greyer, more nuanced view of the world. Zuko sees the fire nation from an entirely new perspective and while he still loves and hopes for his nations future, he surrenders his blind loyalty to them in exchange for an unflinching loyalty to peace and love. Katara too had to come to terms with the fact that cruel people exist in the earth kingdom and water tribes, while some fire nation citizens are just regular, kind people who also need and deserve to have someone speak on their behalf. And this is honed in directly on how they view each other. They grow in their individual journeys to be open to the humanity in the other and then, once they’ve found that, they’re able to grow more in compassion for others in a beautiful feedback loop. And this is all matched in the symbolism repeatedly and intentionally associated with them in canon: sun and moon, fire and water, yin and yang, Oma and Shu who found love despite their warring nations. Their individual arcs are completed in each other and complement the themes of atla beautifully.

The canon pairs... just don’t. Which, again, is fine. But the very things that give atla longevity and popularity are anchored in zutara. Kat@ang doesn’t accomplish this. They’re... nice. Sweet. Especially when you erase a good portion of their interactions in S3. It could’ve been just a sweet love story. (Personally, the dynamic between toph and aang accomplish the same thing that zutara does, with complementary personalities that fulfill the theme of opposites blending in harmony) M@iko, on the other hand, is less sweet but I think wasn’t even supposed to last. Zuko’s relationship with Mai seems to represent his relationship with his old life as a whole. He can’t be emotionally vulnerable, he’s goaded into abusing his privileges, his agency and opinions aren’t respected. They just don’t have common ground with which to discuss anything that matters, so they don’t. As far as themes, the relationship doesn’t fit with atla. It’s zuko returning to and sticking with what is (on the surface) like him, what’s expected. Fire nation with fire nation. Fluid water bender with the flexible air bender. Like with like, separated from what is different and challenging and complementary.

And all of these things combined of course lead to the potential for the ship. I don’t know how familiar you are with the post-atla canon but... well, miss “I will never turn my back on people who need me”, miss “I don’t want to heal! I want to fight!” ends up living quietly in the SWT as a designated healer who turns a blind eye to the water tribe civil war happening right outside her front door. Which can be fine! People change! Some people just wanna stay inside. I just wanna stay inside! But the potential future for zutara is so much more satisfying, with Katara becoming the most unconventional Fire Lady the uppity old cads who are stuck on the old ways have ever seen. Fanon has her serving as a voice for the other nations within a kingdom at the point of its biggest political upheaval, as a confidante to Zuko who can actually help him while he’s trying to figure out how to move forward and make reparations. They have the opportunity, together, to accomplish what they both have set on their hearts to fight for: positive change that lends itself to harmony and balance. And the steambabies! A popular headcanon is that their firstborn daughter, the crown princess, is actually a waterbender, which causes such an uproar among the people who are adamantly clinging to the old ways. It’s just a future full of potential to be forces for good together, full of trust, intimacy, joy. The exact era of peace and love and balance that zuko announces that he intends to ring in with the start of his reign as Fire Lord is, again, magnified by the very personal zutara relationship. And we love to see it.

tl;dr zutara isn’t for everyone. Some people just don’t vibe with it. Some are nostalgic. Some love the canon they grew up with. Some have been disappointed for years. Some just see themselves in other characters and want their happiness instead. Whatever the reason, that’s fine. But for me, I love the way these two, from the moment they give each other a fair chance, are able to lower their walls and prejudices to see the other for the kindred spirits they are. They see each other’s humanity, and their response is to pour out love and support and compassion. I love that they’re a power couple in battle. I love the symbolism and, honestly, soulmatism that colors their every interaction. I love that they embody the whole storyline of atla in their relationship and how it develops, which is notably why their seasonal arcs always culminate in each finale with how they relate to one another. I love that zuko adopting a waterbending move is what actually saves his life and then katara’s. I love the chemistry! And I love the future they could’ve had, instead of the ones they were given.

So, in conclusion: I just think they’re neat and I hope you do too, at least a little bit. Even if it’s just respectfully from a disinterested distance cause you do you. And now here is the video I mentioned. I’m sorry this post got so long and then I gave you an even longer homework assignment, but I can’t recommend it enough. She says it all better than I can.

youtube

#zutara #atla #zutara rant #like really the way the canon relationships were written throughout s3 #it would’ve been more believable for zutara to happen #or at least be hinted at #all of the major issues presented in those relationship were dug up extensively and then... never resolved #and then they just slapped some kisses on a screen and said ‘there all better’#and we just kinda had to say ‘oh ok guess it’s all better then’#this got long I’m sorry #I wrote it all out and then tumblr ate 2/3 of it #which is why it took so long #and what I’ve written now doesn’t even match what I had before #because there’s too much to say about why I love zutara #and the stuff I left out the first time is what came out this time #rip to my original thoughts but this post is different #anyway that’s why this took so long #and I should’ve just made a PowerPoint...#I can do that too if you’d rather not read all of this lol #I won’t be offended #this is incoherent #Alia rambles uselessly #also hoping this doesn’t end up in any wrong tags because I don’t wanna step on toes lol #it’s not anti!! it’s just critical #in a compare/contrast way #I can pinpoint the moment when I started trying to rewrite my points from memory #because everything gets shorter and more succinct #like... I really said all that??? sounds fake and I don’t remember it anyway so here’s the condensed version #with no!! smooth!!! transitions!!!!#also why am I so lazy with proper grammar over text

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alliterative-albatross · 3 years

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So, I sent you (@disgruntledspacedad) a pretty long ask a while ago (back when you had anon on) and I'm decently sure Tumblr ate it (or maybe you ignored it, in which case, feel free to ignore this one as well). But then I saw one of those "writers appreciate feedback no matter how long" posts, so I'm back here. Here is my mediocre attempt to rewrite my original review of your work. Bear in mind that English is not my first language, so if at any point my phrasing sounds weird to you, you know why. Mandatory disclaimer/apology: this might get a little too long 😅

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

I remember being SO mad at myself for not finding this sooner. I binge read it one afternoon with no thoughts for any real life responsibilities I might have had (and no regrets). Javiears is one hell of an unconventional relationship in the beginning, and I really love what you did with them. The whole premise of your story is quite refreshing, and you somehow manage to convey the trust and mutual respect there two feel for one another without explicitly showing us the beginning of their "entanglement".

Also, fuck you for what you did to poor Emilio, that man was a saint and he deserved better! I honestly can't believe that I got so attached to a character that appeared so little in the story, but it happened, and his death kind of broke my heart.

But the Javiears reunion + mild confession was lovely, and felt completely deserved. And of course the sex scene. I won't lie, I expected a bit better from Javi there, but I did like how utterly /human/ it was. Capturing that humanity, the imperfections in each character is something you're really good at (more on that later).

AFTERSHOCKS

Ah, my emotionally constipated babies who really need to work out their communication issues. I do love them, though. And this short series did a really good job of delving a bit deeper into Ears's and Javi's psyche. Kudos to you for dealing with the medical "aftershocks" of living through an explosion AND using that experience to move your emotional plot forward. These two need to grow a lot before they can get to a stable point in their relationship, and you really manage to convey their insecurity and fear of commitment/intimacy while making it clear that they're in it for the long run and that theirs is a relationship that WILL work out so help them God.

IF I FALL

Ouch. Punch me in the gut while you're at it, why don't you?

But seriously, "If I Fall" is SO FUCKING GOOD. Don't get me wrong, it's angstier than an image of Jesus on the cross (don't judge me, it's Holy Week and I just got home from accompanying my grandma to church), but it somehow works beautifully. You, my dear, play heartstrings like they're a fucking guitar and I AM HERE FOR IT.

You're doing an amazing job at making me feel everything these characters are feeling, which is both awful (bc pain) and impressive.

Also, if anything happens to Ana I will cry, because she is adorable and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also, if anything happens to Ears I will cry, because she is badass and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also also, if anything happens to Javi I will cry, because he is loving and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Basically, I am really invested in the well-being of these characters and can't wait until they're happy and safe again (please tell me they will be, my heart can't handle much more pain).

A quick note on the angst complaints: yes, this story is way angstier than most other fics out there and it can be a bit too much at times, especially considering how many chapters of pain it's been. BUT it's obvious that "If I Fall" NEEDS this amount of angst to get where it's going, to send the message it wants to and to properly develop its characters. The pain is as important to this story as flour is to bread. You may not like eating flour on its own (I don't think anyone does), but you love bread (because bread is amazing) and you must recognize that bread NEEDS flour to work. It wouldn't be bread otherwise. And eating the flour as part of the bread even makes you like the flour because the bread is just DELICIOUS.

I fully understand and sympathize with the people who have elected to table "If I Fall" until it's completed so they can binge read it knowing there's a happy ending in sight, but in case you're feeling a bit self conscious about all the angst, please know that your story is beautiful not in spite of the pain, but rather /because of it/.

PS: No, I'm not high/drunk, I just really like bread

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Silly thing to comment on, I know, but I do feel like it's important that you know how useful your ANs have been. There are many details in the story that I simply wouldn't fully get without reading your comments at the end of each chapter, and I appreciate your writing a hell of a lot more knowing how deeply you understand and care for each one of your characters. Plus, it is obvious how much work you've put into researching a country and a time period that are (from what I gather) unfamiliar to you, and I really do believe you've done an amazing job of it.

JAVIER PEÑA

My boy. I love your characterization of this complicated character, and I have eagerly read each and every one of your headcanons about him. I can't really say if your version is fully faithful to the source material because it's been a while since I saw Narcos, but your Javi most definitely reads like a real person. He's fairly consistent as a character, and I feel like everything he does is perfectly natural for him to do as a character. He makes for an unconventional yet deeply interesting romantic lead, and so far I have thoroughly enjoyed all his POV chapters/scenes.

OCs

I know you've gotten some flack for making her into an OC halfway into the story, and while I get why the sudden change may have felt like a disappointment for some, I don't share that sentiment. I firmly believe that this fandom is unfairly harsh towards Original Characters and their creators, and I don't really understand why. Listen, I love Reader fics, and consume many Reader fics. I have read dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I can safely say that I've only ever "inserted" myself in approximately 10% of those stories. Reader characters are not as blank as their writers may want them to be. They can't be. They're characters, and character have personalities and moral values and senses of humor and a bunch of other things. Reader characters may not have a backstory or a physical description attached (and even that's not guaranteed), but they're still characters.

And on a more personal note, pretending they're actual blank slates is naive at best and insensitive at worst. Reader characters are American coded 99% of the time, and white coded 95% of the time. Not every readers is white nor American, even if that's the predominant demographic on Tumblr. When I read a JavixReader fic about a woman who speaks exactly zero Spanish, I know she's not me. The story may be beautifully written and have an amazing plot and character development, but the Reader *isn't me*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and some of my favorite xReader stories feature a "reader" who couldn't be more different from me, but it's something that enemies of OC fics should take into account. Particularly if they are white and/or American. But I digress.

HANNAH AARONS

Your character is amazing. She's strong, smart, confident, independent and an all-around badass. She gets kidnapped while pregnant and still focuses on problem solving and survival. But she's also overly guarded and mistrustful, and really needs to work on her communication skills. There are times when I absolutely love her and even admire her, and other times when I want to whack her with a slipper. She's no Mary Sue, but remains interesting and likeable throughout the story. She feels wholly human and real, and that's no easy task. I like her, I am invested in her, and I can't wait to see what's next for her. She's a compelling and three dimensional protagonist in a complex story who never fails to draw me in. I love her. She's your baby, and you should be proud of her.

Also, quick question about personality types: I know you've typed Javi as ESFP and Ears as ENTP (100% agree on both, btw), but have you given any thought to their enneagram types? I personally have always seen Ears as being somewhere on the thinking triad, maybe a 7 or even a 6w7, but I'm not too sure about Javi. 9w8 maybe? He could also be a 6w5 🤔

PARTING THOUGHTS

Basically, I love your story, your characters and your writing in general. You are a fantastic storyteller and wordsmith. You get into the heads of incredibly different characters personality-wise (Ears, Javi, Berna...) and manage to capture all of their complexities and quirks every single time. And it doesn't feel like it's something innate for you either. To me, it seems that you have put a lot of work and effort into understanding each and every one of your characters, who they are, why they do what they do and what they want. And let me tell you, all that effort has been more than worth it. "Better Love" is a fanfic, but it wouldn't be out of place in a regular bookstore, if I'm honest. I don't know what you do for a living or if you've ever considered writing professionally, but you clearly have the skills and the drive to create some masterpieces.

You are amazing and your writing is a gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and have a nice day! ~ 🍪

My friend, I apologize for hoarding your first ask. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy going back and rereading it. It gave me a lot of comfort when I was in a pretty dark place, both personally and in regards to my writing, and I was reluctant to send it out into the the abyss of Tumblr where I might never see it again.

That’s not fair, though. You put just as much effort into sending me that review as I put into my writing, and I apologize for never responding to you.

Okay, anyway, so twice now, you’ve made me cry. In a good way, I promise!

I absolutely love your bread/flour metaphor. It made perfect sense. I want the emotional release of Javi and Hannah’s reunion to be earned, and in order to do that, the angst has to come first (there are also a few plot “ingredients” that have yet to make their appearances). Thank you very much for understanding that, and for voicing it so eloquently.

I appreciate your comments on my research and characterization. You’re correct that I’ve put a lot of time and effort into crafting a universe. In a lot of ways, I’m doing my best to stay true to the source material (regarding culture and timelines in particular), and in others, I’m branching into my own territory.

On that note, I’ve never once regretted fully embracing Hannah Aarons’ identity as an OC. She’s stayed consistent in my mind from the beginning, and it was a relief to finally share my vision of her with the audience. And for the record, I totally agree with you regarding “reader” characters. Every reader insert echoes the perspective of their author, no matter how vague the physical description. I can only imagine how grating that must be from the perspective of a non-white, non-american reader. Thank you so much for sharing your insight! I will certainly keep it in mind the next time I write a “reader insert” fic.

Okay, enneagrams! I am much less familiar with enneagram than I am MBTI, but I agree 110% that Javi is a 9 with a strong 8 wing. I waffled back and forth on Ears a little, but eventually landed on 8w7 for her. It came down to the eight’s deepest fear, which is being controlled. That’s Ears all over, and the fact that she and Javi share that eight willfulness means that they might butt heads a little, which also seems very appropriate for them. Big thanks to @remusstark for her insight into the eight frame of mind - our conversations helped solidify my decision on this. :)

Anyway, I’m just rambling now. The big take-away point that I want you to get is that I am so, so grateful to you, both for your insightful feedback and your dedication in making sure that I actually saw it. You are an absolute gem and a deep thinker, Cookie-Anon, and if you ever feel like sliding into my DM’s, I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.

Mad love and soft hugs,

~ Jay

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