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there is something so nicky and joe about luffy and zoro
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Of all names in manga, I like Haikyuu names the best because they manage to fit the characters while still staying actual not completely out of the blue names, so here are (some) of the name meanings :
日向 翔陽, Hinata Shōyō. 'Hi'日 means sun or day, while 'nata'向 means to face, defy, confront or tend towards to. Together, they're used to say "a sunny place", but it's interesting to think that Hinata with his jumps is also defying or being draw to the sun.
'Shō'翔 is the radical of 翔る、which means to soar, to fly, to run or to dash. It also used to be in 翔ぶ、but it's not used anymore (it has been replaced with another kanji which... You'll see lmao), which means to jump or to leap. 'yō'陽 is generally meant to say "sunlight" but only when it's pronounced 'hi', while when pronounced 'yō', it means the Yang, so the positive, or an open space. Hinata has a very sunny name :').
影山 飛雄、Kageyama Tobio. There's two kanjis for "shadow", both pronounced Kage, but the one used in his name is 影, which has slightly different meanings. It means shadow, silhouette, reflection, presence or star/moonlight. Silhouette is cool, since Kageyama has always been this great king that everyone knows of, presence is interesting ("as long as I'm here..."), and the moonlight one shows that he's a counterpart to Hinata's sunlight. 'Yama' 山 means mountain. Now, Kageyama is a very common Japanese last name, but together they form the mountains shadow, or a shadowy mountain... So the name has like "impressive great king" connotations.
'Tobi' 飛 is one of the most used kanjis in the whole manga. You know that kanji I talked about earlier, which used to mean to jump or leap ? Well, it was replaced by this one. So the first kanji in Hinata's first name was replaced by the first kanji in Kageyama's name in the verb "to jump, to leap, to fly". It's also the kanji that's used in Karasuno's banner, Fly. 飛ベ。'O'雄 is very common in boy's first names in Japan (it's also used in Natsuo from mha for example). It means masculine, leader, superiority or excellence. So it's pretty weighted since Kageyama is this representation of complete natural superiority and talent.
月島 京, Tsukishima Kei. The first kanji of his name, 'Tsuki' 月 (do not exchange with Yamaguchi's nickname Tsukki, which is written in hiragana and not in kanji) means moon or month. It's both a reference to his personality and to be Hinata's counterpart, and it was already discussed in the anime. 'Shima' 島 means island, and it might be a reference to his isolated nature ? Also interesting to note that it has a strong resemblance to 'Tori' 鳥, the kanji for bird.
'Kei' 京 is just one of the kanjis pronounced Kei, which apparently sucks for him cause his first worry of the moment was that everyone was gonna ask him how to write his name since it was a new year :'). Like, I'm not kidding, there's 16 kanjis pronounced Kei. This one, anyway, means capital or 10^16. It's the second kanji in Tōkyō (東京), and I have no idea why the Japanese have a word for ten thousand billion.
山口 忠, Yamaguchi Tadashi. Finally, my favourite ! Yama still means mountain, and 'Guchi' 口 means mouth. It was chosen because of Yamaguchi's arc, which was about greed and pride, to show his unending greed : he's ready to swallow a mountain basically.
'Tadashi' 忠 means loyalty, devotion, faithfulness. It was probably chosen as a sign of both his loyalty to Tsukishima and to Karasuno !
I'm gonna stop at those four for now, but if you want others just say so, i'll get right on it !
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Alright, update : started a series of those ! The other part for now is on the #haikyuunamemeanings tag
#haikyuu#manga#character names#kageyama tobio#hinata shouyou#yamaguchi tadashi#tsukishima kei#name meanings#haikyuunamemeanings
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You were talking about Zoro and One Piece and fubgthvrxgjbthvty
I am Unwell™️
I don’t know if I think he has a loyalty kink or if I do but
His unending devotion?
His complete Ride Or Die mentality?
I am On My Knees begging to be on the receiving end of his love and attention
(He’s be into body worship and caretaking me thinks (I am projecting))
from the heart of my bottom thank you for this one anon. bc you are so fucking right. if anyone meets the criteria for loyalty kink???????? It's gonna be Zoro. you probably got tangled up together by accident or out of some kind of debt. he promised someone that he would grant you safe passage as you make your way from point a to point b, and somewhere along the way he finds that his debt and loyalty and service is no longer extended to you, it straight up belongs to you. it's basically royal x knight trope which i love with my whole ass bussy. Zoro can pick up a huge ass safe with minimal effort so you better believe he will just pick you up and put you somewhere else whenever he deems it necessary. or just when he feels like it. and he will not hesitate to just hoist you up and carry you over his shoulder for easy hassle free transportation. yk the scene in shrek where he's carrying fiona and she and donkey are having girl talk time when she finally stops trying to get shrek to put her down??? it's that. and you're explaining things like girl math to Luffy. he loves it. he only operates on girl math now. anyway yeah... Zoro is something. if you have a bad dream he seems like the type who would stay up and cuddle you till you feel better but nope. he stands guard in your room for the rest of the night. you wake up to go pee at 3am and he's still standing monitoring the entrances and exits. he follows you and waits outside the bathroom and makes sure you don't forget to wash your hands. if you ask all cute and sweet and sleepy he'll get you tucked back into bed but tbh it won't take that much convincing. you are so so right about body worship and caretaking, like I couldn't have pinned him down more accurately. you fuckin nailed it. ironically you won't have to beg on your knees for his attention because he is definitely already on his knees for you so uh. do with that what you will. but yeah I think the song do it for him from steven universe especially applies to people like Zoro. he will do anything and everything for you without breaking a sweat. and that's before he's even aware of how hard he's falling for you. GOD I love me a stoic service top.
#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro drabbles#zoro#zoro x reader#zoro drabbles#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece drabbles#if you like that abt zoro#you're uh#you're gonna like my character calyx#like a lot#like..... a lot........
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Hey, nerd, guess who's here?
1, 3 Cassi, Athens, Serpa
4 Athens
7, 8 Mir! Rotary, Rotary
15 Rotary
17, 18 Cassi
thank you for the long ask, this isn’t satirical, I genuinely love having long asks
1, Best and Worst qualities, and Why
Cassi’s best quality is her durability and loyalty to the people close to her (sadly there’s only 1 person, and it’s exactly who you think it is)
Athens has the great person you can get along with, because they have the collective experiences of tons of people. Knowledge of different peoples lives and experiences gives him a big variety of lives to pull from
Serpa is completely and utterly devoted to their cause, which I guess is a good quality? I don’t have many “good” qualities for them
but A MAJORITY OF MY CHARACTERS have the quality of being COMPLETELY AMBIVALENT AND NOT CARING ABOUT LIVES, they have no real ties to “morals” and such, making them not the best friends you could have, really
3, What are their voices like?
Cassi has a voice like a beautiful singer, while having an American accent (I think American accents sound like how I think they sound, idk)
Athens’ voice varies a lot depending on their mood, varying from a very forced sounding happy voice or that of a smooth bartender, so really, idk
Serpa’s voice is somewhat sultry, sounding like a super villain, not leaning towards feminine or masculine. Though, occasionally, some of her words can sound a bit…. bitcrushed? Makes you wonder wether they’re using the tv head to speak or are doing it without a mouth.
4, Underlying motivations
Athens has only one thing he wants to do most in his probably unending existence and suffering, and that’s going to Venus. There is a reason why, but I refuse to tell you guys because it’s an inside joke that only i know :)
7, Greatest Insecurities
Mir!Rotary canNOT pick a fucking struggle, man. He’s an orphan who’s constantly worried or crying, and has like, 0 friends. It’d be difficult for me to find something he’s NOT insecure about. Meanwhile, Rotary’s only real struggle is with him feeling that him being around annoys people and they don’t want him around. Also, fun fact that is slightly refered to only once when he was first introduced during the Box mini battle, he went to Church and witnessed the Anti-Bostonian Preacher guy, which 100% gave him some sort of trauma
8, Coping Mechanism
Mir!Rotary: He doesn’t cope, why would you ask me this about him, have you fucking seen this child before?
Rotary copes through good ol’ cynicalism, the most marketable type of coping besides blowing all your money on useless shit. Sadly, this makes him 1% more similar to Rick from Rick and Morty, which makes me want to blow my/his brains out.
15, are they different from how they were as a child?
As I’ve kinda hinted towards at 8, Rotary was likely a normal young Christian child before he met THAT Priest and lost all of his faith in god. Ever since, Rotary barely acts as positive as he used to, I wouldn’t be surprised if occasionally you’d find him in bar smoking. He probably used his phones to sneak in tho, no bouncer would let this 4ft fucko in, and I’m willing to be he never got a license because he was too short to drive.
17, How many hours of sleep do they take?
Cassi, being a goddess, doesn’t NEED to sleep to live, but because of their habits, needs to sleep to be fully lucid(us). Saying that, I fully believe her sleeping periods either span from a quick nap, to a healthy rest, to a few days. Really depends how many things they do, but in an average basis, i’d give it…. 6 or so hours for her regular day, so a little under average.
18, where do they see themselves in 10 years?
For being a being that can go between universes and stuff, 10 years isn’t THAT long, so if you don’t mind me I’m putting an extra 0 on that shit.
Now, I truly and completely believe that given enough time, Cassi could be able to become the new God of the PEPN multiverse, but she’d have to take advantage of a few things. But in only 100 years, I’d see her actually having grown as a person, and being maybe a bit more compassionate and polite to an extent.
Also she’d have murdered everyone in Miraculum at least once, because as before mentioned, she holds grudges
————————————
Sorry it took a while to finish this, but I also loved doing this.
Thank you for the based ask, Edow, and remember!
none of you are safe
#McRibs asks#Cassi#Serpa#Athens#Rotary#Mir!Rotary#Seriously#The Rotary’s are the only 2 here that would help out someone if they just randomly asked for help#and even then#Mir!Rotary would be crying the entire time#Rotary is the most stable McRibs OC nearly confirmed
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prongsfoot week day#1
•when and why did you begin to ship prongsfoot? what makes you ship it ?
i had always loved james and sirius as friends and their friendship, and just their dynamic, used to get grumpy when authors at times replaced or sidelined either of them in favour of a different character, or just made them two friends on paper and didn't give them the material. i always just looked at them with the "bestie lens"
the person who got me into prongsfoot was lovely miss– @padfootastic
intially i came across her fantastic opinions of sirius on someone else's blog and immediately thought - must follow this person she thinks on a similar brain wavelength to mine. stalked her blog and just was on a cotton candy moonland when i found her ao3 account. loved all her fics and her portrayal of james/sirius/harry to bits
(shovel talk , the whole notes app drabbles have become my comfort reads)
she's the one (well more like me stalking her blog and her wide variety of very enjoyable tags introduced me to romantic and queerplatonic prongsfoot)
also camichats on ao3 works of prongsfoot are like fresh rain on parched land, much needed and very well loved.
the why?
see, describing prongsfoot is very hard to me they just exist in their own bubble just orbiting next to each other. two peas in a pod– i could go on with epithets for them. something about the how every marauder has james as a best friend ™ but James has sirus does it to me. the almost devotional level of loyalty that these two have in each other, the extent of comfort and stability they see in each other how they are each other's home, hope and responsibility.
it's funny how they only have like five paragraphs in books (actually nvm- 5 is fine, jkr probably would have made james a figment of sirius plan's to bully Snape or something if she wrote their whole story) but almost every other dialogue sirius had he was like - james my beloved (and rip james you were dead from page 1 you couldnt get dialogues).
everytime i think about how sirius just went mad with grief after seeing james die – it fully breaks me. like there was just this one person who always used to cover for him, save him and excuse his actions who used to be the shield for sirius's rough edges and that person is gone now. for the first time since he was 11, he's unsupported. his home was killed
like it's hilarious to think about (not really) a group that was known for it's unending friendship (animagus, supporting financially) just broke like strings of marionette before even james potter body was fully cooled down. fuck he wasn't even buried when sirius was thrown in askaban (and turning 21)
in the end it's really intresting to think about a chance meeting with james on the train- pretty much changes his life path entirely– talk about a butterfly effect indeed.
the fic i was talking about in tags
#Prongsfootweek2022#i spent like 25% of this just complimenting pen and I'm not taking it back#seriously prongsfoot is just soo#filled with oceans if love for each other#I'm pretty sure i have a rolled reel of all the book prongsfoot moment always playing in loop#in my head#there's not a dat that goes by when i don't think about your father harry#also can we talk about how fkn annoying it is when people puch james or sirius away from each other's life in fics#like i know not every fic is prongsfoot but they were best friends as well#please respect that#people out here putting james as sirius's best friend without any material#oh yeah he just exists–#also another annoying opinion i have seen a few times#is when people say james matured for Lily#like people nooo#you and i wouldn't like if we made Lily's character development all about James#same should be said about James#dude out here growing up and learning all about privilege he has and leveraging it to help others#but no let's Just make it so he wants it date lily#if it was about lily it was more about how prejudiced the ww was about muggleborns and doing something about it#not about her love#there's this fic that i read years ago that I'll link in the post#it had a really good take on how and why james matured#it also had prongsfoot vibes so that's a bonus as well#phew#this was alot#i had to edit it three tines cause it was becoming way too ranty
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Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1
A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)
Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.
Summary:
Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.
The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.
This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.
Chapter 1: Mother's Gift
Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.
A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.
Mother had a gift for him.
Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.
Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.
Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?
“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.
“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.
“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.
“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.
“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”
Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?
‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.
“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.
The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.
“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.
“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.
Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.
“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.
“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.
As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?
It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.
Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.
Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.
Oh how wonderful that would be!
#salvatore moreau#resident evil#resident evil 8#resident evil 8 village#resident evil 8: village#mother miranda#beauty and her beast#fic#mine#chapter 1#re8#re8 village#re village#salvatore moreau x reader#moreau x reader#moreau x oc#salvatore moreau x oc
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THE ONCE AND FUTURE FIC
Yet another resurrection fic (sorry?). ARTHUR RETURNS IN CHAPTER 2. Lots of feeeeels, and overdue conversations (at last!) between our precious King and Warlock. Title might change as this goes along, but this has always been the work title in my head since I started thinking about writing it, so… Starts right when 5.13 ends. WARNING FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS IN CHAPTER ONE.
Excerpt PART VIII:
"You cannot be my manservant anymore, Merlin."
(PREVIOUS CHAPTERS UNDER CHAPTER VIII)
VIII. (ARTHUR POV)
Arthur has noticed another oddity in Merlin's memories: Gwaine - or better said: his absence. He's seen Gaius, Leon, Percival - all older than he had known them. But there has been no Gwaine; and Arthur doesn't dare to ask. On the one hand, Arthur knows Gwaine's loyalty had always been to Merlin first, so perhaps be had decided to keep at Merlin's side at the lake? On the other hand though... It feels too positive to be true though, and Arthur fears Gwaine wasn't only absent from Camelot but from everywhere else too. And so, Arthur doesn't ask - he simply doesn't want Merlin to have to relive nor explain any of it, in case it might be the second option.
As he's pondering on this all, he starts undoing the ties at his wrists - he evidently doesn't need his armour (as Merlin doesn't seem expecting an attack), and his body reminds him he'd like to get dry...
Merlin is suddenly in front of him - "Sorry Arthur, I should have realized-" - aiming for the ties; and Arthur swiftly moves his arm further away, out of Merlin's reach:
"What do you think you are doing?"
Merlin looks at him as if he's lost his head:
"Helping you out of your armour, as I should have done already by now?"
And so Arthur has to spell out the obvious, apparently:
"You cannot be my manservant anymore, Merlin."
Merlin's head tilts, and his eyebrows furrow; but in worry more than puzzlement.
"Because I have magic?"
And Arthur feels like slapping himself. No matter how defiant it might sound, there is an undertone in Merlin's voice - a hurt, fragile, fearful tone Arthur has heard only once: when he had pushed Merlin away after he had revealed his secret. Of course Merlin misread the swift withdrawal of his arm coupled with such words for disgust or fear! Arthur inches now closer to Merlin, wishing to make sure Merlin knows he doesn't - *doesn't* - fear him nor feel repulsed by him, and corrects him with a shy smile:
"Because you are the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the Earth. And now that I'm aware of it, it doesn't feel right to have you wash my socks and emptying my chamber pot? There surely must be greater things for you to do."
Merlin seems stunned for a moment - and then he shakes his head.
"I swear this is the most ridiculous thought you ever had. What should my abilities have to do with being adequate or not for being your manservant? And why taking care of my mother made me a loving son, but taking care of you should be demeaning?"
Arthur can only sigh:
"Because your mother didn't throw buckets of water over your head nor throw stuff at you?"
Merlin seems surprised by Arthur's sudden open shame at his own past behaviour. Then Merlin's eyes turn softer, and his voice now sort of soothing:
"I accepted it as part of the job, Arthur... I never complained, right?"
"You should have. I was searching for your limit, I think, in a way; because there seem to be none; and I... appreciated that. But I know I sometimes went too far..."
It's Merlin's turn to sigh:
"Don't you see? I didn't want to complain. You never really minded my bad mouthing you either, did you? So surely, you must understand. Believe me, I didn't want to complain. Because somehow, I sort of relied on it. It kept me grounded."
Arthur hadn't expected such an answer; but indeed, it makes sense. Power can easily get to the head. Especially such as Merlin's - alledgedly unparalleled. And knowing Merlin's *kindness*? Of course he'd fear to succomb to its lure...
And yet, Arthur knows he sometimes abused his. And only rarely, and never straightforwardly, apologized.
"Your playful insolence cannot equal some of my faults, Merlin. You never took out on me your anger for something I had no responsability in..."
"Again, Arthur: I accepted it as part of the job."
"A manservant isn't supposed to be a receptacle for one's fury."
"No. But a good friend can be."
Arthur has to close his eyes. Friend. No matter how many times he had repeated to Merlin that they could never be friends (not that he didn't want Merlin as his friend; simply because he couldn't - a King is alone); he knows that's what they became, indeed. And this time, at least, finally, even if he's not saying it, he doesn't want to deny it out loud. Even if it only makes his past behaviour even more shameful. He gives Merlin a sad smile:
"Well, in that case... Just as a powerful sorcerer, a good friend shouldn't be a manservant, either."
Merlins smiles back:
"Wrong again. *Only* a good friend should be a manservant. Because it definitely isn't limited to tending to one's physical needs. (a smirk) And anyway, to tell the truth; if it bothers you that much? I never actually touched your dirty laundry, nor your chamber pot."
Arthur can't help but laugh at that.
"Is there anything you've actually done with your two hands?"
He sobers right away though, not wanting Merlin to think he actually means any of it.
"I know there is, Merlin", Arthur pledges.
My armour.
My food. (As Arthur suddenly realizes Merlin's habit of 'stealing' from his plate has probably been about protecting him from poisons more than about keeping him in shape).
"I know."
"Good. So now that the matter is settled, will you grant me the honour?"
Only Merlin could utter those words with both such mirth (in his eyes) yet so much devotion (in his voice).
Arthur smiles, warmly this time, bringing his arm in Merlin's wainting hand.
"As long as you know the honour is mine."
Merlin shakes his head and sighs.
Arthur knows though from the blush that reaches his ears that Merlin heard he meant it.
(PREVIOUS CHAPTERS)
(Warning for this chapter: suicidal thoughts)
I. (MERLIN POV)
Merlin holds Mordred's sword in his right hand, appraising it. He still can't believe he has found it; still can't believe it's actually in his hands.
Over sixty years now - nothing; yet far too long - Merlin has been waiting for this moment. Since he has begged Freya, and threathened (and apologised - he couldn't blame Freya for not listening; he wouldn't have either, if their roles had been reversed), and begged again - in vain, for Excalibur. Since he has finally understood that he was a fool to hold onto hope for something that couldn't, wouldn't come to pass. Arthur was *never* coming back: Merlin had simply witnessed enough - he had witnessed too much; and too many times; and definitely one time too much one time too many - to ignore it any longer.
/
It was not that Merlin had grown too tired of waiting - too tired of the ache, the longing, the loneliness... For Arthur? Merlin would *always* wait; however long it might take.
It was not that Merlin had come to believe mankind didn't deserve Arthur to rise again to start with - even though it *was* an easy conclusion, when it was at its worst, when it turned its anger against itself - too many horrors, atrocities, bloodshed. But mankind could be beautiful, when loving, in any form; and marvelous, too, when it was at its best; when it turned its anger towards its limits: the medical progress over the ages would have had Gaius exhilarated, and proud; and what about its general neverending thirst for discovery, for explorations, for quests? - of course Arthur would come back: if only he could.
It was just that Merlin had finally understood that he had been played - not even because Albion (the name has since long fallen out of use and its people had been scattered through the globe, so it might mean nowadays something else than it had used to to start with) had got united without Arthur (and even if it still only meant Great Britain, well, it might after all need to be united again); but simply because the list of unending reasons why Arthur should have come back to save the day and yet hadn't (to mention only the very top of the list: half of humanity wiped out in a finger snap by the Black Death? the whole world collapsing in chaos, bend on destroying itself - World War?) had turned out suspiciously too long, and finally impossibly too long, as mankind had truly reached the lowest point not only ever but even possible without Arthur rising yet again (organised experiments and torture on toddlers, honestly?).
So.
Arthur wasn't ever coming back from the dead, simply because no one ever came back from the dead (except as a shade - and that would be even worse, wouldn't it? - or at a cost too great to burden anyway). It had been easy to believe in the prophecy; simply because it had been what Merlin had wanted. A distant promise of Arthur returning was still way better than no Arthur at all, and so Merlin had willingly taken the bait. But the fake prophecy had obviously been made up; as revenge, or entertainment - or both; and Merlin had felt stupid for not having realized this ages ago - The Sidhe were proud indeed; and Merlin had thwarted them. (It had been easy to forget it at first - to tell himself that they hadn't known Arthur was THE Arthur at the time, whatever...) Merlin wasn't sure about what Kilgharrah might have exactly known or not (On the one hand, Kilgharrah had forged Excalibur, who had always truly helped them. And Merlin had been warned by the Great Dragon, right from the start, and repeatedly; so wouldn't it all have worked out just fine if he had listened. On the other hand, if he had listened? Wouldn't he have been a monster, punishing people for crimes they had not yet committed? So maybe giving him the truth had in fact been the sure way to have him not acting on it. After all, Kilgharrah had hated the Pendragons - at least Uther - enough to have tried to wipe out Camelot. And he hadn't been exactly pleased either to discover Merlin was a Dragonlord, even if he had seemed to soften when he had realized that Merlin would not control him as a puppet. And last but not least, Kilgharrah hadn't taken care of Aithusa as Merlin had thought he would; and that's how Aithusa had ended up with Morgana - and had forged the sword that had killed Arthur), but it didn't change anything anyway...
Well, you bet Merlin hadn't been willing to indulge them any longer. Not that anger was what was driving Merlin, of course. There was simply *no point* anymore in waiting. Nor in living, to be honest - especially as it might be what kept him from actually finding Arthur again somehow; next life, paradise, wherever and however and whenever? Merlin was no religious man, but even he had no answer about what happened after death after all. Maybe it was worth a shot? It was a very, very thin chance indeed; but it was still more of a chance than just staying here waiting for *nothing*... So. Merlin had begged Freya for Excalibur. But as she had kept absent, it had dawned on him at some point that Excalibur wasn't the only blade he could use... Merlin had searched for that other mighty weapon through his magic for years; then had sent his creature to retrieve it when he had successfully localized it.
/
And here, now, finally, is Mordred's sword.
And Merlin feels no dread, no fear, while holding it. If anything, he feels calm - calmer than he has ever been, probably. And that's how Merlin knows that his decision is indeed right: even his magic agrees.
He should do it in the lake though. Magical artifacts just shouldn't linger around in the open, huh...
Yes.
Let Mordred's blade rest along Excalibur.
And let Merlin rest along Arthur.
Freya will make sure they all lay undisturbed.
Merlin blindly pulls at the cord around his neck, taking it out from under his tunic and sliding his left hand along it until it closes around Arthur's mother sigil (AN) and Camelot's ruler's ring (Gwen had it brought to him, so he could give it back to its true owner on his return: Camelot in the meantime was to be ruled by a Concil of Knights and a Guardian, until Arthur would come back to sit on his kept empty throne and his kept empty seat at the Round Table).
Merlin closes his eyes; makes a silent promise.
I'm coming, Arthur.
He takes a first step into the lake.
.
Backstory: +1500 years in short - because it hurts and I just don't have the heart to fully write the prologue I had intended to write:
Merlin has never left the lake. He kept waiting. He couldn't, wouldn't leave, (nor SLEEP even for that matter by the way) no matter for how short - imagine if Arthur came back just when he was NOT there, huh. And of course he wouldn't trust his magic to warn him somehow - it had failed Arthur when he needed it the most after all. So no. Merlin has never left the lake. But Gaius has mentioned to him (Merlin got visitors, in the beginning (and his mother came to live with him until she died); before he cut himself off the world) how maybe the time he was given without Arthur was to LEARN more about magic; so that he would be prepared when Arthur came back to face whatever ordeal they were supposed to face. Because even if Merlin is hyper *aware* - he feels *everything*, through his magic - practice is necessary too. So Merlin mastered the art of molding sand/clay and animating it with his magic (basically, he walks the Earth as Old Merlin - because people tends to let old grumpy men on their own - whenever he needs anything physically). He can speak, hear, see, learn, through him, following the world as it expands (America, Australia, etc etc, because even if he was aware they existed, he couldn't physically *go* there before they were 'found'). And he can touch, and carry (for example you bet he brought back something red for Arthur to wear every time - Merlin sort of owns a 'male red mode through the ages' museum by now - and he hates it, of course). The first time Merlin has truly thought Arthur *would* come back has been The Great Plague. The second time has been WWI. The last drop has been the Nazis and Unit 731 experimentations. So Merlin sent its creature to fetch Mordred's sword after having localized it though his magic - and that's what Old Merlin is bringing back to him when this all starts (aka that shot at the end of 5.13)…
(AN: Just so you know, Merlin's magically pierced in the thickness of Ygraine's sigil to pass a cord - he wouldn 't make a hole in the front design of course!)
(Also... A resurrection fic!? What am I getting myself into!? I'm still a newbie around here so I definitely haven't read enough Merlin fics to ever claim making something original (so by the way, please feel free to let me know your all time favourites resurrection fics! So far I've read The Change Trilogy and Like the cycle of the year we begin again (and they're both gorgeous reads so run and read them if you haven't yet!) but I haven't seen (yet?) my take, both on the waiting and on the getting along after Arthur's return, in the fics I've read so far, so I thought I might as well write this down ?)
.
II. (ALTERNATE POV)
Arthur regains consciousness under water.
He's cold; so cold he's shaking - helpless, steady spasms he just can't put an end to (being past half dead apparently has repercussions?). But it's bright, up over him, and he instinctivally pushes himself up towards the light; towards the air.
The moment he breaks the water, Arthur registers that he's not only alive but that he feels *just right*. No pain in his side, no weakness, no dizzinesss, no strain: nothing wrong at all - except from the convulsions from the cold, but you bet he's not going to complain, all considered. The sun is veiled by clouds, but feels nonetheless like a welcomed warmth on his face, and Arthur breathes deep, bringing his arms up and turning his palms towards the warmth too as the tremors start to subdue; he's alive!; and well! He doesn't need to pat his absent wound in wonder, nor to look at the water, transparent clear instead of bloodened red, to know that what he feels is true.
Merlin's done it.
He *has* saved his life.
Again.
It's both unexpected (Arthur had been so sure he had taken his last breath, when all had finally faded to black) - and yet somehow expected. Magical waters and a sorcerer who knows how to work its power would do wonders, obviously. It has happened before after all, bringing his beloved Guinevere's spirit back?
A sudden realization; and Arthur can't help but laugh. And it feels so exhilarating - alive! alive! - the laugh turns into a howl; and Arthur relishes on it, throwing his head back. Honestly? How could he have ever been *so* blind - of course it had been Merlin then too by the water edge, disguised as an old woman!
/
Somewhere on his right, a buoying laugh erupts.
And Merlin knows that laugh. So hearing the exact right tone of that entirely unexpected laughter at once feels as if a vicious invisible hand is squeezing at his heart.
He had forgotten it; he realizes. But he would recognize that howling laugh amongst any other...
Merlin doesn't dare to *believe*. Cruel hope nonetheless blooms unbidden in his heart, and his eyes can't help but zero in on the source of that sound.
And it is exactly as it should be; exactly as it has used to be...
There *is* ARTHUR; standing in the lake, water reaching his hips, chainmail glistening, head thrown back as he laughs. (Has anyone ever looked more simply breathtakingly majestic no matter what they did and even without trying?) Merlin can only see his back, but you bet he would recognize the shape of that back amongst any other too.
Merlin's breath is knocked out of him; and Mordred's sword falls from his hand.
Merlin knows what he hears and sees *cannot* be true. He has seen the world in a much, MUCH more desperate state without Arthur coming back then. There is absolutely no reason for Arthur to come back right now. So. He is being granted a vision; that's all. But of course Merlin wouldn't, couldn't, try to take his own life anymore, not after having had even just a glimpse... Besides, he has just handed over the last sword that could end him anyway. Merlin has to acknowledge The Sidhe's thinking; they know exactly well how to play him. But damn, they are vicious.
But no matter the abysmal pain from such a low blow, Merlin still considers this to be a gift, and is determined to draw it out for as long as he will be allowed to. Those few seconds might sustain him for another fifteen centuries to come, and maybe more...
/
Arthur quiets down after a while. Thinking about his savior: where is he?
Arthur scans his surroundings; and the warmth he feels when he finally spots Merlin definitely eclipses the sun.
/
The laughing stops, and Arthur turns, eyes searching; and a bright smile appears on Arthur's face the moment they find him.
"Merlin!"
Merlin's knees give out. His name through Arthur's lips has sounded *exactly* right - righter than in any memory Merlin has relied on to live on hanging onto. And it hurts. The shame, and guilt - to realize he had forgotten *this* too? It shouldn't have been possible - to have something so dear going misformed; a pale, withered, incomplete, erroneous copy, so far from the original that its truth has disintegrated? Oh yes, it hurts.
And Merlin's fingers dig; hard, deep into the sand. He cannot reach out. He longs for; he *aches* to - both physically and emotionnally. But he cannot. As long as it's only his eyes and ears that are deceived, then he can pretend it is true...
Merlin starts to cry. He can't help it; he cries - as he hasn't cried since, well, all those years ago: silent tears endlessly streaming down his face, unabached, treacherous; and Merlin hates them - hates the way they blur his vision when he has to - HAS TO - *see*. He is powerless to stop them though.
It is *blinding*.
Merlin has tried, so hard, to keep remembering, to NOT forget. But his memories, even sustained with his magic, have so obviously failed him; haven't done Arthur any justice at all. Merlin has forgotten so, SO much; and being proven just how much he has actually forgotten slices through him like a knife. The exact darker shade of Arthur's blond hair when wet. The exact way Arthur stands and moves. The exact sharpness of Arthur's features - his nose, his cheeckbones, his jawline. The exact shape of that smile - that particular, undeniably fond smile following his name Merlin has used to live for and from. Guilt slashes through him again. How could he have *forgotten* the exact shape of *that* smile; the most precious to him amongst the myriad of each and every of Arthur's smiles?
/
But then Merlin collapses, instead of cheering with him - he has thought him gone for good? And Arthur suddenly feels like there is still after all a gaping aching wound on his body; but this one deep in his chest, and of his own making. He owes Merlin *everything*, doesn't he? Yet he has hurt him - and so very severely. Despite it, though, Merlin obviously still cares for him; and so very much... His own behaviour puts Arthur to shame. So. Arthur hadn't had the time nor the strength to plainly apologize before. But he has now; and he won't run away from the words that he needs to say - and even more important, that Merlin needs to hear...
/
Arthur is now rushing through the water towards him - so fierce!, so strong!; alive and well!? His smile is gone though; replaced by worry - because of Merlin's tears, no doubt: yet another reason to hate them then...
And then Arthur is plopping down in front of him, out of breath; and Merlin gets proof again of just how much he had forgotten - the exact colours and depths of Arthur's eyes! There is now a fragile smile back on Arthur's face - a soothing smile, meant only for Merlin's sake; and it's going to break Merlin's heart, no doubt.
.
III. (MERLIN POV)
"I'm fine, Merlin. I'm fine."
And not only the voice is perfect, but the language is the one Merlin hasn't heard for over a millenium...
"Arthur?" is all Merlin can let out - no more than a somewhat hiccuped whisper as he still has no breath, no voice, to start with; but an obvious plea coming from the depths of his soul. A world of wonder, and longing, and ache, and disbelief, and hope - because no matter what, Merlin can't help but want; can't help but hope - in those two syllabs that own his heart. Magic *does* exist, after all; and Merlin would give it all - all the magic he possesses, all his pain, all his hopes, everything - for this vision to turn real.
Arthur's already fragile smile falters: "Don't you remember, Merlin. No man is worth your tears." The reproach is nothing but badly fake though, and Arthur's voice somehow breaks as it ends: "Especially not me."
And then suddenly - and so quickly Merlin doesn't register any of it before it has actually happened, and so it is too late for him to move backwards to prevent it from happening - Arthur brings his hands on Merlin's face, gloved fingers brushing his tears away under his eyes - and Merlin can *feel* them!?
Merlin is lost; lost in what he sees, lost in what he hears, and lost in what he feels. Can this be true? Can it truly be true?
But then Arthur starts speaking again - rushed out words leaving Merlin stunned.
"I apologize, Merlin. The way I reacted- (sigh) I deserve all the names you've ever called me and more. I'm thick, and dumb, and *such* an idiot, and a complete dollophead, and a cabbage head, and a prat, and a royal *ass*, and I still don't know what a clotpole exactly is but I'm certain I am the definition for one indeed too. I may have seen anyone with magic turning against me; but I should never have doubted *you*, Merlin. I should have remembered the butterfly (AN)."
Merlin just cannot believe what he's hearing. It's everything he has ever wanted to hear; everything he has ever hoped to hear - so how can it be real?
"But more than anything, I think, I'm sorry because I should have known, Merlin. I called you a liar; looked at you like you had betrayed me. But you've told it. You actually shouted it for everyone to hear; and I believe you nearly told it to me, privately, at least once, and presumably more... But I just didn't want to hear it, did I? So I'm sorry I was such a coward; a *coward*, Merlin. And I'm so sorry, and so ashamed - and honestly I really can't blame you for not trusting me to understand: because you were right; and it guts me, Merlin. 'There is no place for magic in Camelot'? How hard it must have been for you to say-"
Merlin can't help but shake his head, about to interject. Not because (even if it's true) one exception shouldn't and couldn't be enough to break a rule anyway; at least not at once, and not until Arthur would understand that magic itself isn't corrupt. Not even because it hadn't been hard in fact to say those words - at least not hard enough, and that will always feel wrong. But simply because real or not just cannot matter anymore; not when Arthur's gaze is boring into his very core, pleading and honest and full of a guilt Merlin just can't bear to witness: "Arthur-"
Arthur silences him though, cutting him off by shaking him once by the shoulders: "But what counts is that I know, now, Merlin. Your magic is not only part of who you are; it also makes you who you are. And I will trust it; because I trust *you*. You must believe- No, let me rephrase this before you obey me again - because you *always* obey me, don't you Merlin; even when whatever I say in anger or despair isn't intended nor meant to be an order; and I've done it so often, haven't I... 'Do not put me into that position again'? 'Tell me it's gone'? (AN) So. Can you believe me; Merlin? It's not an order; I definitely do not deserve to give you any order at all to start with anyway. And I'm not asking for you to forgive me; I even think you shouldn't forgive me. But please, at least, can you b-"
"Of course I believe you. And there is nothing to forgive, Arthur. Nothing." Merlin half shouts, ancient words flowing instinctively, head skaking 'no' for emphasis, bringing his hands up to Arthur's wrists and pushing downwards, keeping Arthur's hands in place on his shoulders. If this is a waking dream then Merlin never wants to leave it. This is solid enough, real enough, for the rest of his maybe neverending life. "You're here. You're well. That's all that matters, Arthur; I swear that's all that has ever mattered to me."
Arthur holds his gaze for a long, long time; as if waiting for Merlin's clear eyes to betray his words. And when he finally seems confident enough that they are indeed genuine, he whispers, but it sounds like a pledge: "And you're here, Merlin, and you're *you*; and I swear that's all that will matter to me from now on."
.
AN: Tiny quotes from my Body Swap fic; sorry, I just couldn't NOT put it there, it just FITS...
(Also, just imagine they speak in old brittonic... but please don't expect me to write it? sorry?)
.
IV. (MERLIN POV)
Arthur squeezes his shoulders one last time and then lets go, about to stand.
"Now, let's go home. We have a feast to prepare in your honor."
Merlin cannot tell if his heart has just completely healed or totally disintegrated. Let's go home?
It's real! Of course it's real. If Arthur doesn't know- It's real! Arthur is truly back! And that's...
But *Arthur doesn't know*. And so *Merlin will have to tell*.
Merlin blanches. He feels guilty, anew. Because he has hoped and prayed and begged for Arthur to return; with everything he had. He has been selfish, hasn't he? And he has been blind; stupidly blind - again. All those years he has prepared for taking care of a still bleeeding wound, for clothes, for food, for any necessities; but it has never crossed his mind that Arthur wouldn't know... and he is not prepared for Arthur's emotional pain; and even less for causing it. Some small part of Merlin can't help but wish now that Arthur had stayed in the lake after all, had never awoken. It's too cruel. Merlin shouldn't be the one to break Arthur's heart.
Arthur is reading his panick wrong, of course:
"Don't worry- No one else has to know about your magic if you don't want to. But you DID end the war, Merlin; you did what I couldn't do - Morgana... All Camelot should know what they owe y-"
And Merlin can't bear Arthur's concern on his behalf any longer; making it last feels like a betrayal. And no matter how much Merlin doesn't want Arthur to get hurt, ever, he cannot and will not lie - not about this. Conjuring ghosts wouldn't be real and would only make it worse in the end anyway. The only option is a clear cut, right away.
"It's not- (deep breath) I'm so sorry, Arthur. We cannot go home. You were gone. For such a long time. For such a long, long time, Arthur. I'm so, so, sorry."
And Merlin watches, feeling his eyes filling up once more, as Arthur's eyebrows furrow in incomprehension; as Arthur blinks, taken aback as realization hits; as Arthur's eyes turn desperate and pleading, shaking his head in denial-
"No. I remember just-" His voice falters as he probably notices the house behind them - the house that definitely hadn't been there before - and who knows what more (trucks on the road farther away? joggers in strange clothes passing by?) "And you look exactly-"
And Merlin has nothing to say, nothing to offer, to soothe the hopelessly growing pain ready to crush his King, hollow him out - nothing but the cruel testimony of his once more, always, useless tears; and Arthur knows, indeed.
It comes out as a whisper, but it sounds as if Arthur's spirit has gone with it, vacillating.
"They're all-"
And the only thing Merlin can say still is: "I'm so sorry" - again.
"My people? My Knights? My- Guinevere..."
And it hurts. Oh, it hurts; to have to see Arthur's broken heart on his face, to hear its crack as his voice breaks on his Queen's name and his head turns away.
"I'm so sorry."
A litany; a chant; a prayer. Over, and over, and over. Pointless, worthless, useless, anyway; as his King cries silent tears, all the more shattering by their quietude...
Then Arthur is up and pacing, a fierce but dark spark in his eyes as his hands turns into fists - anger, rage; of course.
"Why did you bring me back then? How could you bring me back if-?"
And Merlin would gladly take a blow; if it could help Arthur to feel better, somehow. But nothing comes. It's Arthur. Of course nothing comes.
Arthur briefly closes his eyes, inhaling sharply. And when he opens them again, Arthur's anger hasn't faded; but isn't directed towards Merlin anymore.
"But then; you would have brought me back right away, wouldn't you have - if it had been in your power..."
And Merlin feels crushed, again; by how he *always* fails Arthur, indeed.
"I'm so sorry..."
.
AN: I realize I do have a thing for Merlin crying - blame it on Colin's A+ crying performances - so of course it has to appear somewhere... Merlin will not weep though for much longer, if it can reassure you...
.
V. (ARTHUR POV)
Merlin hasn't said the word; but Arthur heard it anyway.
Dead.
He'd been dead.
And for such a long, long time, Merlin had said; even though it feels merely minutes since he closed his eyes?
It makes no sense; it feels unreal - impossible. Merlin hasn't aged a day...
And yet... The grief in Merlin's eyes tells him it's true. Everyone he knows, except Merlin, is gone. Arthur doesn't know what feels worse. To know that he will never see any of them again; or to know that he has failed them all... He feels unfulfilled, hollowed out; utterly lost, even though knowing exactly where he is...
He feels furious, too. What is the point of coming back to life, if it's coming back *too late*?
But Arthur simply knows, somehow, that Merlin - who has literally collapsed upon seeing him emerge from the lake; who has seemed so utterly shattered by his apology; and who looks now so honestly sorry for his loss, gazing up at him from the ground, nothing but stabbing understanding and concern in his eyes - isn't to blame for that lost time.
Which means his presence, here and now, is puzzling indeed:
"What are you doing here, then? If you neither cured me through the lake nor provoked my return?"
.
VI. (ARTHUR POV)
("What are you doing here, then? If you neither cured me through the lake nor provoked my return?")
Merlin seems to hesitate - looking embarrassed?
"I was waiting. Since you- I've been waiting for you."
And this just doesn't make sense.
"Why would you think I would, I could, ever come back, if I was...?"
"There is a prophecy, Arthur. So you were to return, in order to fullfill it."
"A prophecy?"
Arthur is stunned shocked. He had expected some malicious sorcery at work and Merlin having heard of it and come over - it would have made sense; and it would have given him the opportunity to fight, if not to save then at least to honour his lost people. But Fate? How is he supposed to make Fate pay? And what is Its intent to begin with? A prophecy about him? Arthur feels powerless. Is his life not even his own?
Then Arthur remembers the puzzling word has passed Merlin's lips once before.
(I'm sorry. I thought I'd defied the prophecy.)
So. Merlin had known about this? Before...? And had never said a word - again? Another secret Merlin has kept from him; but this time, about himself - about *his death*? It feels even worse than Merlin hiding his magic. After all, Merlin's magic concerned Merlin, indeed. But how and why could Merlin - who Arthur considered as his true friend, no matter how often he had repeated they couldn't be - keep something that concerned HIM from him? Especially something that monumental?
It hurts. Arthur wants to scream. But all that comes out is a shocked whisper:
"All those years; and you never said a word. You knew how and when I was to die; and you never said a word."
Merlin looks shattered by the accusation - but he doesn't refute it; only try to explain the unexplainable, eyes apologetic under Arthur's blaming gaze, voice so evidently full of guilt and regrets:
"Because I believed I could actually prevent it from happening, Arthur. You are the once and future king who will unite Albion and bring magic back to the land; and helping you achieve such a goal is to be my destiny. So says the prophecy. So I believed I was the one, the only one, able to prevent it from happening. And as it depended on me alone anyway, I thought I should spare you from the weight of such a burden."
Merlin lets out a deep sigh before meeting his eyes fully again, his voice turning urgent and pleading:
"What was I supposed to say? That your loved ones would turn against you? You wouldn't have believed me. And even if you had... I didn't want you to have to worry all the time and about everything. You have no idea how it feels - the infuriating and desperate helplessness; to constantly fight to stop something you constantly fear, but to see everything you ever try twist and turn against you; to realize at every corner that what you thought you understood means something entirely different; and that nothing you ever do makes a difference in the end... 'Once and future'? I used to think it meant you would win the war; take your throne back for good. Or die trying, by Mordred's hand and Morgana's will - but only if I failed. There were two stories, and I thought it was to be or/or; but it was and/and. I was such a fool, Arthur; such a blind fool. It's only when you- when you- that I understood what it truly meant as a whole."
Merlin sounds utterly sincere; not only heartbroken but even empty after his confession.
And Arthur wants to believe that Merlin's silence had been well-meant.
But Arthur can't help but feel betrayed still, lingering on the echo of yet another odd word he hadn't realized to be literal at the time.
(It's my destiny. As it has been since the day we met.)
And Arthur finally understands what he has never been able to comprehend until now. Merlin's puzzling bone-deep *devotion* to him; that dumbfounding unequivocal absolute *commitment* he has never wanted to doubt nor question. Well; it turns out it has in fact little to do with him... He is just a mean to an end, right? Arthur can't help but replay their shared years through his head now with this new knowledge; and it all slashes through him like a double treachery. Arthur can't even tell what feels the worst:
Did I ever know you at all?
Do you even like me at all?
'I want you to always be you', he had said - and he had meant it: the magic, all in all, had only been an addition to who Merlin was. But this? This isn't a simple revelation. This feels like a revolution - a definitive, shattering change. And it hurts, losing Merlin; even though he's right in front of him. Does the person he had always believed Merlin to be even exist? Yet another grief, on top of his fresh mourning for everyone and everything he's lost...
Arthur's hands turn into fists at his sides to suppress his urge to snarl.
"So that's why you came to Camelot. For me to bring magic back."
"What? No! I had no idea- My mother hoped Gaius might be able to guide me: I had questions, about my magic, and-"
Merlin seems honestly surprised - and appalled - by his train of thoughts; at once standing and coming closer in his urge to explain. But Arthur moves away, keeping distance between them. He cannot trust anymore in his abilities to see straight through Merlin without further information. He has never seen straight through Merlin, apparently.
"When did you hear about it then?"
"A few days after I had arrived in Camelot", Merlin confesses right away; eyes pleading, definitely understanding the terrible weight of his words yet obviously choosing to come clean - but not moving closer this time, knowing it would only be rejected.
And it's here, again; in those little things. The way Merlin not only respects his boundaries, but respects them *even at his own expense*. The way Merlin has kept so much hidden, and for so long; yet can't actually tell a lie right to his face when asked for the outright truth, even to save his own skin. It cannot be pretense, right? On the one hand, Merlin's face tells him all he needs to know. But on the other hand, Arthur still needs more answers, and he commands them.
"Who told you?" (Not Gaius, right? Please; not Gaius.)
"Kilgarrah."
"Kilga- who?" Arthur is honestly puzzled. He surely never heard of someone with such a name in Camelot.
"The dragon your father kept prisoner under the castle."
"What are you speaking about?" Arthur doesn't let Merlin time to answer though, cutting him once more as he opens his mouth - collateral information must wait for later, when faced with such an enormity. "No matter; one treacherous beast just said (can dragons even talk?) *this nonsense*, and you believed it? It's insane!"
"The druids spoke about it too."
"That's even more insane! Why would the druids trust- They hated Camelot. They hated me."
"They didn't. Not all of them, at least. (helpless sigh) Anyway, the prophecy is truth, Arthur. Your return is proof of it. You were to rise again; when Albion's need would be greatest. And you just did, Arthur. You just did."
The words stab through Arthur, making him see red. So Arthur cannot be softened by the evident not only wonder but even joy in Merlin's voice and eyes and everything. It comes out in a roar.
"My people needed me! What need can ever be greater than that responsability!"
Silence falls, all the more shattering after his outburst.
But Merlin has heard his need for an answer, and so he gives him one - even if it's none; shaking his head in helplessness, voice breaking and eyes begging:
"I do not know, Arthur."
Merlin is nothing but obviously caring, and sorry - sorry for him; holding his gaze with only patience and commiseration - hurt about his hurt, regrets about his regrets, and helplessness about his helplessness.
And somehow, having to see Merlin's hurt and regrets and helplessness feels worse - worse than his own hurt and regrets and helplessness, somehow: because the pain on Merlin's features is his own doing, again - even though Arthur has sworn to himself only moments ago never to hurt Merlin that badly anew; and even though Arthur knows that none of the injustice he feels is Merlin's fault to start with, if everything had already been written in the stars anyway. Arthur now feels guilty for having lashed out.
Besides, Arthur knows his rage cannot and will not change a thing, sadly. Even Merlin's supposedly unparalleled magic is powerless, obviously. So. His whole purpose, his reason to be, has simply vanished. The desperate rage finally turns into crushing grief, the shout into a devastated whisper.
"The only destiny I ever wished for was to be the King Camelot needed. And now Camelot is gone."
"No."
The fiery professed word brings his attention back to Merlin - Arthur hasn't been expecting an answer; it hasn't been a question. Merlin shakes his head, a clear denial; and then kneels down on one knee, all reverent, head bowed down.
"For as long as I draw breath, Camelot still stands, Arthur. I may have grown up in Ealdor, but you have always been and will always be my King."
The words ring nothing but deeply heartfelt. But to Arthur, they only feel infuriating. Merlin officially bowing to him off formal ceremonial occasions makes him sick. Because surely Merlin is deferent in any way but not that one, especially when it's just the two of them. And most of all, because this is fake and wrong. Arthur wouldn't tolerate even for the most helpless person to bow to him simply because he should to start with; so the greatest warlock to walk the Earth, the most powerful being alive probably? The idea isn't only ludicrous, it's simply nauseating.
"Because a prophecy says that you were 'born to serve me'?", Arthur can't help but spit out, knowing now how literally Merlin had meant those words. It is not enough. It could never be enough. Arthur lets out a deep sigh though at the edge he couldn't keep out from his tone, realising in fact and no matter what, he is more angry at Merlin's Fate than at Merlin himself. How come Merlin isn't enraged too, to start with? He is just as much a puppet of Fate as he is, isn't he? "Get up Merlin; this is ridic-"
"Because I wouldn't change a thing, Arthur", Merlin exclames, cutting him mid-sentence. And it is not often indeed that Merlin actually raises his voice in anger at him; and it startles Arthur silent.
Arthur has crossed a line, apparently. The most startling though is to realize that Merlin's lines aren't about himself (he sure never looked angry over buckets full of cold water over his head or anything): they're about Arthur - once about Arthur creeping around in the woods unprotected for example; now about Arthur misreading him. Merlin's eyes are now boring into his, nothing but fierce and ardent; even though his voice turns again gentle and even adamant:
"You are not my King because of a prophecy. You are my King *in spite* of it. I grew up wondering why I was born with the abilities I had, indeed. But when I was told... Believe me, I really didn't want it to be true; at least, you bet I didn't want it to be *about you*. But then... I got to see what you were truly made of; who you really were. And everything I've ever done since then has always been for and because of you. That's why my magic is for you; and only for you, Arthur. Not because I am supposed to; but because I want to. Because I believe in you. And if my destiny is to be of any help to you then I am proud of it indeed - because I am proud of you."
As always, Merlin just sounds sincere, radiating unwavering loyalty; and Arthur is baffled. Can it still be true, despite it all?
"Please get up, Merlin," Arthur repeats, this time more gently.
"Not yet."
Stubborn - as always, again. It would make Arthur smile if it didn't feel so heartbreaking.
But then, Merlin lowers his gaze once more as his hand moves about his collar, and Merlin is presenting him with Camelot's ruler's ring, holding it out.
"Here. Gwen had what is rightly yours - according to each soul in Camelot - sent to me; so that I could give it back to you on your return."
And Arthur is paralyzed. It means so much. But he cannot take it. It is both too much and not enough. And more importantly: he has no right to - he has let his people down.
"Please, Sire."
And Arthur hears the word exactly for what it is. 'Sire' had used to be his official appellation in Merlin's language in their beginning ('My Lord' being restricted for sarcastic comments since its first use). But its meaning has grown over time - as Arthur had let simply his first name or nothing at all become the norm between them - and Merlin only uses it now on special occasions: whenever Arthur needs an extra boost in confidence and Merlin feels like insisting on his allegiance to him. Some things apparently truly never change.
"It doesn't have to be for me; nor for you."
He's transparent to Merlin, isn't he? Always has been, probably. It doesn't feel worrying though. It is a gift, to have someone who understands him that intrinsically.
"It is the wish of your people. Take back your ring. Wear it with pride. For the love of Camelot."
And how could Arthur deny this? The rallying cry is deep embedded in his soul, indeed - and he would never turn it down. No matter his guilt or inadequacy, Arthur will honor his people's will.
"For the love of Camelot."
Arthur finally takes the ring from Merlin's hand and puts it on.
/
AN:
I swear, those two will be the end of me. Everything about them is so LOADED, and it hurts :( Their shared history is heavy. Merlin's lonesome centuries are heavy. Arthur losing in a wink his reason for being is heavy. I'll never rest until they get some happiness, they just deserve it :(
Also, please don't be angry at Arthur. He's not at his best in this bit, I agree; but his purpose for being alive is gone for good and he's supposed to be all right 'because it's meant to be'? He has a lot to go through, and it is a lot to take in. So remember two chapters ago. Arthur isn't good with talking about feelings; but he's brave, and when it matters, he speaks - and he actually said A LOT to Merlin then, for someone usually emotionnally constipated who expresses his affection by throwing punches, right...
.
VII. (ALTERNATE POV)
Merlin sadly but undeniably beams at him - and still doesn't seem willing yet to stand up. So Arthur gets down - sitting on the ground instead of commanding Merlin up once more. It's the result that matters anyway: to get them both on the same level. And it works, Merlin finally quitting bowing down to simply sit too.
Arthur focuses for some time on the ring back around his finger, and finally exhales:
"I was unnecessarily harsh, wasn't I?"
And he knows Merlin hears it for the apology it is - and accepts it:
"It's all right, Arthur. I realize it is a lot to take in."
And somehow reassured by Merlin's understanding, Arthur finally dares to ask:
"Will you tell me - what happened?"
Arthur can't help but hold his breath - his loved ones being long dead is bad enough; Arthur isn't sure he could deal with learning that the circumstances of their deaths had been bad too...
/
Merlin feels stabbed in the heart. Because of the swift cut from his own pain at his losses - still, no matter how long ago. And because he can read not only Arthur's pain but also Arthur's fear in Arthur's features.
So Merlin hurries to give Arthur both a firm nod and a fragile but positive smile - a silent soothing promise that it is not the worst, at least:
"I can even *show* you; if you want. Share my memories?"
It's out before Merlin had time to weigh the pros and cons; but Merlin won't back off. Sharing his memories implies sharing how he feels about them - and Merlin of course doesn't want Arthur to get more hurt in the process. But sharing his memories brings an added level of truth and certainty and knowledge to what only words ever could - and Merlin's priority right now is simply to make sure Arthur never gets to wonder about how much he might have edulcorated the past in his retelling.
Arthur starts breathing again, but still has to ask for confirmation, in probably the tiniest voice Merlin ever heard from his King: "They aren't bad, right?"
And Merlin just knows what he should mention first; what Arthur fears the most:
"Gwen lived a full life, and brought Camelot his golden age in your name."
Arthur seems to absorb the information. And then, he smiles - a smile both fond and proud:
"I always knew she would be the greatest Queen."
Arthur meets Merlin's eyes again; sad, of course, but assured:
"I'd like to see, then."
"All right."
Merlin moves closer, extending a hand towards Arthur's forehead, explaining:
"We'll have to be connected. And you must close your eyes."
Arthur studies his eyes a moment - not his hand; then gives a nod, doing as requested. Merlin presses his hand against Arthur's skin; not even taking the time to relish on its welcome warmth - alive! alive! - before plunging inwards.
/
Merlin focuses on Gwen, and there she is.
"I understand why you need to stay here. But please don't become a stranger?"
And so Merlin had taken a pebble from the ground and had enchanted it before giving it to Gwen. If she held it in her hands, they could communicate through their minds.
And that's why Merlin can show to Arthur how she reigned - or, in fact, not. She soon took the title of First Guardian instead of Queen, taking care of Camelot until the return of its true ruler, and ruled Camelot with her Concil of Knights. One guardian in waiting was elected right away, and then every five years, by and from Camelot's commoners, both to assist and to be trained as next Guardian, so that there would always be continuity by people aware of the kingdom's affairs in case Gwen would suddenly disappear. The new Concil Knights were chosen by all Knights from the Knights ranks whenever a Concil Knight had to be replaced. The First Knight (Sir Leon had been the first of course) was elected by his fellow Concil Knights. The next Guardian was to be chosen from and by the guardians in waiting. Everyone admired Gwen's natural grace, intelligence and gentle heart. She was a just and concerned ruler, and her people thrived to be worthy of her. Merlin had placed magicals protections on Camelot's borders, so attacks were rare, and never a surprise. There were winters harder than others, and summers harder than others; but all in all, life in Camelot was good.
His last memory of Gwen still brings tears to his eyes.
"I'm sorry I have to leave you too, my dear old friend; but my time is coming to an end. I can feel it, Merlin. This is our last conversation. And I thank you, for all you did for Camelot, for all I know you will continue doing for Camelot, and most of all, for being here for Arthur, when he finally returns."
Merlin needs a pause.
Arthur is crying silent tears when Merlin cuts their connection.
/
Arthur doesn't know how to deal with the force of it all. He hadn't realized he would not only see but FEEL Merlin's thoughts as clearly as his own - nor that Merlin's feelings would be as conflicted as hiw own.
Because Arthur feels relieved, from what he saw: Guinevere had been well, indeed. And Arthur is grateful, and amazed, and proud, and grateful, again, for all she accomplished, indeed. But he can't help but ponder about what he didn't get to see - or better said, to hear: her laugh.
"Was she happy?"
Merlin confirms his doubt, making a face and hesitating before answering; and Arthur can't help but wince.
"Happiness comes in all sorts, Arthur. After all that had happened... But all in all, she was *content*, I believe. Satisfied about what she had achieved, about her people living in peace and prosperity. It brought her joy, and fullfillment. You know she was always happy for anyone being happy. That counts too, Arthur."
"She never remarried?"
"She didn't."
And Arthur's first emotion at Merlin's words is guilt.
"I've doomed her, haven't I? My love for her trapped her into becoming this resplendissant but melancolic Queen." She had been his Queen, and she would always be his Queen, no matter the title she had chosen to wear.
"No. Her love for you."
"I let her down."
"It was neither your fault nor your wish to begin with, Arthur; she knew that."
"But I did it all the same. I had sworn to take care of her; and I didn't."
Arthur can't help but let out a huge sigh.
"She would have been happier with Lancelot, wouldn't have she? If only they had escape-"
/
Merlin's heart definitely cracks at the honesty in Arthur's words. Because Arthur loves Gwen that much indeed - to put her first; even if too late. And because Arthur's remorse is only wishful thinking anyway.
"It wasn't Lancelot at the time, Arthur."
"What do you mean?"
"Lancelot had passed behind the veil, and never came out of it. It was a shade, an empty shell brought back and controlled by Morgana to tear you apart. Remember how he was different? So Gaius and I checked. It wasn't Lancelot."
/
Again, Arthur doesn't know how to deal with this new information.
On the one hand, it makes sense, indeed. Lancelot loved Guinevere; had always loved Guinevere - Arthur had realized in retrospect after his Knight's death. But he was nothing but honorable to start with. The Lancelot he knew wouldn't have tried to...
On the other hand, if it hadn't been real, why hadn't Merlin explained it? Merlin had known Arthur had felt guilty for being the reason for Lancelot's death - again. Merlin had known Arthur had blamed Guinevere, even as he had missed her.
But Arthur understands, eventually.
Because it didn't change anything in the end.
Arthur was still the reason for Lancelot's first (and only) death. And Guinevere still loved Lancelot to start with. Arthur had realized that too, long before then - as she had mourned his passing. Knowing bad magic had been involved explained why things had actually happened - Lancelot wasn't Lancelot and Guinevere was enchanted - but it didn't erase the reason things happened from...
Still, it mattered.
Because even if it didn't change the reason, it had taken away Guinevere's choice in the matter, hadn't it? Arthur had accepted not once but twice that he was her second best. Because he loved her. And because she loved him - Arthur had never doubted her love, even though knowing 'With all my heart' meant 'With all there is left of my heart to give'. So Arthur had chosen to forgive her, of course; but he had blamed her, at first. And he knows Guinevere had always blamed herself. But knowing now what he knows? Arthur believes there would have been nothing to blame her(self) for, if no magic had been at play. Even if Lancelot had been real and she had chosen Lancelot over him? She would have told him, before, instead of...
"Did you ever tell her?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."
.
AN:
It's canon after all magical beings *can* communicate through their minds. Merlin is just powerful enough to create such a link even with not magical persons, bear with me. I mean - he could even communicate with Lancelot's mind after his death, right ! (so no, no, no, this has nothing to do with me being too a Trekkie in love with mind melds...)
Also: I have a lot of feelings about how BBC butchered my heart with 4.09 (and their lousy treatment of its aftermath) and it shows, sorry?
#merlin#merthur#bbcmerlin#bbc merlin#merthur fic#the once and future fic#my own two spells#fanfic#fic#text
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Review for ‘The Wrath and the Dawn’ by Renee Ahdieh
So I read The Wrath and the Dawn and its sequel, The Rose and the Dagger about a week ago, so hopefully my memory/thoughts/feelings have remained mostly intact. A great part of having pretty bad short term memory is that my book hangovers generally don’t last too long, but the downside is that I very quickly forget the intricate details of plots like... as soon as I finish the book or series. But I distinctly remember having a lot of feels after I finished this duology, so let’s see how this goes.
I originally wanted to read The Wrath and the Dawn when it was first published in 2015, but I decided not to because I have a HUGE aversion to starting book series that are incomplete. Why? Well like I said, I have a pretty bad memory so I generally forget a lot of small details in a story pretty much as soon as I finish reading. This really isn’t helpful when the next book in a series is published at least a year after the previous book, and this is even more unhelpful considering I’m a relatively quick reader and can finish most books within a day or two if I’m on a binge. So I decided to skip Wrath and put it on the backburner, fully intending to pick it up as soon as its sequel came out in 2016. Well, 2016 was a hectic year for me in a lot of ways, and I ended up never reading Wrath... nor did I read any of the books that I had decided to shelve for later. But it’s okay! It’s 2020, and I have begun my unending quest to read all of the greatest YA fiction hits (and likely more). With that said, let’s dive in.
The Wrath and the Dawn is (in my opinion) a fast-paced story that takes place in the kingdom of Khorasan. Just googled it, and turns out Khorasan is a real historical region in what is now modern-day Iran. The story is a “retelling” or “reimagining” of a story from the ancient Arabic folktale collection known as One Thousand and One Nights, or otherwise known as Arabian Nights. I personally like the former title, as it sounds so much more... everlasting. Not sure if that’s the best word to describe it, or if it even makes sense, but I’m just gonna leave that note there. So the story is supposedly set during the golden age of the middle east and begins with our heroine Shahrzad getting married to the Caliph of Khorasan. At this point, the Caliph is known to have been marrying a new girl every day and having her executed at dawn. No one knows why, and when Shahrzad’s best friend becomes a victim to this madness our heroine takes it upon herself to take revenge. She volunteers to become the Caliph’s next bride and her game plan is to basically just stay alive long enough to kill the Caliph with her own hands... or something like that.
Obviously she wasn’t successful, otherwise this series would have ended much sooner. Shahrzad manages to stay alive for the first two nights by telling stories, and while I personally have not read One Thousand and One Nights I assume that the stories Shahrzad told come directly from that collection. Shahrzad is later taken to be executed, but the Caliph himself stops the hanging and this is where we start to see the Caliph for more than what he seems to be. Their growing relationship begins to unfold at this point, and a lot of elements in the story such as magic and politics come to light.
So let’s start with the romance, because I am a hardcore lover of all things romance and this is always my favorite topic to begin with. While I adore the Caliph and Shahrzad’s relationship, I can’t help but wonder “Why her?” By the time the Caliph marries Shahrzad, he has already married and executed 71 or 72 other women. What is it about her that actually makes him go like, “Oh wait. Maybe there is another way to end my curse. Maybe I don’t need to go through and kill 30 more brides.” We find out that the Caliph had quite a lot of appreciation and respect for all the brides he had to execute, so much so that he went and wrote each of their families a personalized letter about his sorrow and admiration for the girl (none of which he ever sent out). But what exactly was it about Shahrzad that made him decide he would rather suffer the consequences of his curse than see through its completion? Shahrzad captivated him with her storytelling, a trait that is supposedly reminiscent of the Caliph’s mother, whom the Caliph had a very close and loving relationship with until she met her tragic end. So I guess that’s something that brought out a side of the Caliph that was lost for a very long time after his mother died, but I still feel like that’s not quite enough to make me understand “Why Shahrzad?”.
With that question aside, I do think their relationship is paced quite well and I am glad to see that Ahdieh didn’t just make them fall instalove with each other quite so fast. Shahrzad is filled with hatred for her husband, and while this does melt away by the end of the first book I think it is portrayed quite fittingly. The slight love triangle (if I can even call it that since it was just so obvious that the heroine would end up with the Caliph) was surprisingly not too annoying. I loved Tariq’s character; his devotion and loyalty are truly admirable in a man. I can’t help but feel bad for the guy though, considering he has been with Shahrzad their whole lives and he really was that close to asking for her hand in marriage before she decided to take off and kill the Caliph on her own. The reconciliation between Tariq and the Caliph in the second book, The Rose and the Dagger was also well-written. I still remember how much tension there was in that scene, right after Tariq fired the arrow intending for the Caliph and striking Shahrzad instead. As cheesy as it sounds, I could almost feel the anger stirring in the Caliph and the regret that filled Tariq’s mind. Tariq is seriously such an awesome dude, and in all honesty, I would ABSOLUTELY read a spin-off about him and Yasmine the Sultana. *Insert googly heart eyes here*
Now as for the Caliph himself, I’m conflicted. On one hand, I found his dedication to Shahrzad absolutely heartstopping especially after reading about the origins of his curse and his seriously tragic backstory. On the other hand, I do find him to be somewhat... bland aside from his immense love for the heroine. He’s a hurt boy who’s made lots of mistakes in his past so I guess it makes sense for him to be incredibly detached from his feelings. I think I just wish I saw a little more character development from him, especially by the end of the series. Mostly everything he does throughout pretty much the entire two books are driven by the sole fact that he loves Shahrzad and would rather destroy himself than to hurt her. While it’s implied, I really wished Ahdieh included at least a small blurb in the epilogue about the Caliph’s reconciliation with his former tutor, especially considering the tutor did A LOT for both the Caliph and Shahrzad. Furthermore, I understand the Caliph not wanting to marry Yasmine out of spite for her father but did he really need to be so emotionally detached from her despite her obviously caring about him a lot? Like, did he really need to be so utterly emotionally detached from literally EVERYONE except for Shahrzad? For the entirety of the series?? Hmmm. At least in my head, I envision him as such a hot dude with an amazing physique.
I also wanted to include a short note on Shahrzad’s father. I understand his emotions, his intent, and his motivations for all the shitty things he did (which admittedly are not entirely his fault as he was totally manipulated towards the end of the story). What I do not understand nor do I think will I EVER totally understand is his role at the very end of the story, right before the epilogue. So out of sheer rage over the Caliph destroying his grimoire of dark magic, Shahrzad’s father goes and stabs the Caliph right in the heart, killing him. Then immediately after everyone crowds around the Caliph in despair, he realizes he seriously fucked up and decides to give his life to perform blood magic one more time and give the Caliph his life back? I think I understand why Ahdieh wrote this ending this way, but I can’t help but feel like it came off as kind of lazy, tbh. I felt like she wanted to tie up the loose ends of the story and figured the quickest way to do it would just to have Shahrzad’s father kill himself (and then have Tariq’s uncle be betrayed by his sellswords). Maybe Tariq’s uncle’s end was necessary, but I feel like Shahrzad’s father’s death was lazy writing. I can’t understand why he would’ve needed to die, and if the author had been willing to write a couple more pages of dialogue I think she could’ve wrapped his arc up much better.
To save my favorite for last, I’m going to end with my thoughts on Despina aka probably my favorite character in the entire series and probably also one of my favorite side-kicks as well. Now, we are told pretty early on that Despina is a spy. Despina never clarifies for whom, so we just immediately assume Shahrzad’s thoughts: Despina’s purpose is to spy on Shahrzad for the Caliph. Turns out that’s only half true. Despina is a spy, yes, but it turns out she’s a spy for the Caliph’s uncle, Sultan of Parthia. And it turns out that the Sultan of Parthia is actually Despina’s biological father. Yes, the woman is half Grecian half Parthian. I can only IMAGINE how beautiful this woman is. Despina is first introduced as Shahrzad’s handmaiden and is pretty awesome in the sense that she’s just always there for Shahrzad. She’s there for her, but she’s also not the Calipha’s bitch. Despina leads everyone else to believe she is a simple handmaiden, but she hides a lot of secrets and motivations. She leads a romance with the Caliph’s cousin, a commander or guard of the military or something (my memory really is that bad, yes). She then goes and disappears in the second book, reappearing during her reintroduction as a PRINCESS of Parthia, to Shahrzad’s horror. For a brief couple of chapters, we all thought Despina betrayed Shahrzad and their friendship but it turns out Despina’s motivations run way deeper than that. No, Despina’s PISSED. She’s pissed because her dad is, quite frankly, a total cunt. And she’s pissed because she’s realized that no matter what she does for him, the Sultan of Parthia will never truly acknowledge her as his daughter the same way he does for Yasmine. And during her many years of servitude to her own father (as a way to earn his love, bleh) she realizes that she doesn’t care about her bloodline and her relationship to royalty. She doesn’t care that she’s actually a Princess of Parthia. Nah, she cares about the family she’s chosen for herself, and that family includes her romance with the Caliph’s cousin and their UNBORN CHILD. Despina’s entire character arc was seriously fabulous, and I would pay stupid money to read an entire spin-off about her life. Seriously. To top it all off, I was really about to drop the second book and leave it unfinished when I thought Despina had betrayed Shahrzad. My heart couldn’t take it. But I’m so glad that wasn’t the case, and I think Ahdieh wrote Despina’s character and journey INCREDIBLY beautifully and despite being a side character, I think she’s probably the most fleshed out and well-done character in the entire series. Case closed.
In conclusion, not a bad series at all. I’m not super critical of books that I read since I think I just have a really low standard. I can tolerate mostly anything aside from truly bad writing (think 50 Shades of Grey levels of bad writing... or fanfiction written by literal tweens with way too much emphasis on love triangles). While I wasn’t the BIGGEST fan of the male love interest, the romance that was shared between him and the heroine was nevertheless still very touching. I love how elegantly Ahdieh wove magical themes into the story, love love love her inclusion of the magic carpet which is probably one of my favorite magical elements from One Thousand and One Nights. Our heroine was strong-minded, kind-hearted, and had a “silver tongue” that I personally loved! God, if only I could spit firey comebacks as quick as she could. So many more middle school arguments would have gone in my favor. And finally Despina... *swoons*.
#the wrath and the dawn#the rose and the dagger#renee ahdieh#arabian nights#retelling#one thousand and one nights#book review#ya fiction#ya literature#romance
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unending character meme // zaya qestir
RULES: repost, don’t reblog! tag, and good luck!
TAGGED BY: tagged in spirit by @to-the-voiceless
TAGGING: any and all who want to do it but haven’t actually been tagged by anyone!
BASICS.
FULL NAME: Zaya Qestir
NICKNAME: none, really.
AGE: 29 by the end of Stormblood. 30-ish by the end of SHB? Haven’t figured out the time distortion thing.
BIRTHDAY: 17th of the 4th Umbral Moon (8/17)
ETHNIC GROUP: Au’ra; Xaelan
NATIONALITY: Nomad? From the Azim Steppe’s Reunion, if that helps.
LANGUAGE / S: Eorzean Sign Language, Xaelan (crude/unpracticed); understands most languages through use of the Echo
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: dating Thancred Waters??? unsure of status during post-SHB but getting there.
HOME TOWN /AREA: Reunion, Azim Steppe
CURRENT HOME: A shared room in the Rising Stones or a shared house in the Mist; depends on where they are at the time of night.
PROFESSION: jeweler, weaver, gladiator of the coliseum, bard teacher (appointed reluctantly by Sanson after many a problem with Guydelot’s schedule), adventurer and warrior of light
PHYSICAL.
HAIR: Straight and somewhat below shoulder length. Most of their hair is black, but slowly changes to blue and white at the tips.
EYES: Dark blue; navy color? Light blue limbal rings that glow in the dark, too.
FACE: Sharp jawline accented by their scales, often covered with some royal blue facepaint similar to Arenvald’s own.
LIPS: Often chapped, but otherwise normal.
COMPLEXION: Ashen brown? Hard to describe bc of weird lighting everywhere they go.
BLEMISHES: None
SCARS: There’s a lot, and I might make a scar map at some point??? Major ones happen to be their legs and their left arm; the legs from Ifrit and the arm from Elidibus in Zenos’s body in 4.5
TATTOOS: None, no matter how much people think the facepaint is one.
HEIGHT: Taller than the average Au’ra, about 5’4
WEIGHT: about 135 pounds
BUILD: Muscular, especially due to their main fighting style requiring muscle literally everywhere. Fistfighting for money is no small feat.
FEATURES: Their scales are an odd color (think black and blue borealis dice, but as scales), and their horns definitely look a bit… ragged. Watching them fight will give the odd realization that lightning sparks in cobalt blue come off of them sometimes.
ALLERGIES: Some undetermined fish allergy. Higiri fed them some assorted sushi once and never did again, so the Scions (and themselves) have no clue what fish they need to avoid.
USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Tied into a loose ponytail at the back. Sanson often comments how they share a hairstyle, but it’s simply from need of clear vision when moving around for monk skills and attacks.
USUAL FACE LOOK: Stoic as all hell. Not used to making full-on facial expressions outside of conversation, so normally looks bored.
USUAL CLOTHING: Tabards, cyclas, or generally something with flowy fabric that doesn’t restrain movement all that much. Metal boots and gauntlets/knuckles are also common, but not always.
PSYCHOLOGY.
FEAR / S: being the last one standing, change, losing their younger siblings/younger friends, spiders, breaking a promise with their mother.
ASPIRATION / S: To have a proper adventure, and to inspire others to live their fullest lives.
POSITIVE TRAITS: Devoted, comforting, slightly protective, carefree
NEGATIVE TRAITS: Easily angered, impulsive, emotional, stubborn
MBTI: ISFP-T (Adventurer)
ZODIAC: Leo, apparently? Sort of fits, if you look at it closely.
TEMPERAMENT: Some crazy blend between phlegmatic and choleric? Generally carefree and easygoing with friends and willing to spend a lot of patience on them, but unrelenting and downright frightening in serious situations, especially when involving Garlemald.
SOUL TYPE / S: Server/Caregiver
ANIMALS: Birds and dogs.
VICE HABIT / S: Drinking, although the Echo does prevent it from having any effect whatsoever, so its more of a taste thing? Tends to sleep a lot when stressed, and often spends their leftover money on gemstones for their shared collection.
FAITH: Polytheistic; the Twelve and Nhaama are gods they generally believe in.
GHOSTS?: Yes, mainly because they’ve seen one.
AFTERLIFE?: Yes.
REINCARNATION?: Probably, with how they’re sure they’ve seen someone who was supposed to be dead before
ALIENS?: before becoming Warrior of Light, it would be no, but with the revelation of Elidibus on the moon and Midgardsormr and OMEGA (ALIEN ROBOT????) they aren’t so sure anymore.
POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Does not care enough even though they are staunch friends with Nanamo. Didn’t care enough to try and challenge Oktai for the seat of Qestiri Khatun, certainly doesn’t care enough to take a political stance in Eorzea.
EDUCATION LEVEL: Barely any; just enough to read letters written in Eorzean and faintly Ishgardian (courtesy of Alphinaud and Haurchefant).
FAMILY.
FATHER: there was one, once, but he’d rather he be forgotten in pursuit of a happier future. Zaya remembers him as Baatar, but they don’t remember if that was actually his name.
MOTHERS: Erhi, Odgerel.
SIBLINGS: Oktai (older brother), Taban (older sister), Sarnai (sister), Delger and Tuya (fraternal twins)
EXTENDED FAMILY: any of the Scions (former or current) or their fellow Warriors of Light, if we’re talking found family. House Fortemps, Aymeric, Estinien, Sanson, Guydelot, Sidurgu, Rielle, and all of the Qestiri tribe are up there too, but you know, that’s kind of a lot of gifts to be sending around during Starlight. (zaya totally sends them all gifts anyways.)
NAME MEANING /S: Zaya means fate in Mongolian, which all of the other Xaelan names seem to be based on. Their previous name, Dzoldzaya, meant light of fate.
HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: Recorded history on the Azim Steppe is easily lost, but if asking around the different tribes, one could learn about a rather prominent Qestiri warrior whose image is painted in some of the caverns nearby where much of important, unforgettable Xaelan history is recorded by the Gharl, swathed in blue cloth. In the days of Amaurot, there was one standout Amaurotine who shared a love for lightning and birds…
FAVORITES.
BOOK: They don’t know enough Eorzean to read a full book, not even a children’s book. The Echo doesn’t help with reading. Urianger has read a book of myths and legends that turned out to be true to them, however, and that has been their favorite for a while. They’ve been considering asking him to read more for them, but that’s been placed on hold after the events of the First and following Mt. Gulg.
DEITY: Nhaama, or Rhalgr, if talking to someone who thinks ‘what’s a Nhaama’ when they mention her.
HOLIDAY: Starlight Celebration. Something about the festive mood always makes them happy.
MONTH: August (4th Umbral Moon)
SEASON: Summer
PLACE: On the Source, Reunion in the Azim Steppe just because interacting with other tribes is rather fun. On the First, Il Mheg all the way!
WEATHER: Clear nights where they can trace the constellations, but it isn’t too cold to need a blanket.
SOUND / S: Excited chatter, harp, singing, small hammers clinking against metal.
SCENT /S: Rain, fresh wood, the air in Gridania, light perfume, Syhrwyda’s food.
TASTE /S: Snurbleberry, honey, most Doman seafood, buuz.
FEEL /S: Soft and smooth fabrics, cold metal, the grip of someone’s hand around theirs, wind blowing through their hair on a warm day.
ANIMAL /S: Yol, chocobo (birds!).
NUMBER: 17, for their nameday and the first year they spent in Eorzea
COLORS: Cobalt blue and indigo, pale gold, soot black.
EXTRA.
TALENTS: Extremely good when working with cloth or metal; even more so when tinkering little trinkets. Interestingly enough, very good at playing flute and harp without much practice. Expert at pulling a person’s true emotions out with simply body language.
BAD AT: Sneaking around/stealth. Do not, under any circumstance, give them a job involving secrecy or stealth unless you want it to fail. Speaking/reading is also pretty horrible, due to how they were raised. Also bad at taking change or lies well.
TURN-ONS: Loyalty, bravery despite all odds, kindness and love even when it would be easier to be otherwise, being able to understand other beliefs, and a love of freedom or new experiences
TURN OFFS: Lying to their face knowingly, extreme greed, lack of self-worth, anger for no good reason
HOBBIES: making music with Guydelot and Sanson, attempting to keep a journal, idle tinkering, dancing, gardening
TROPES: Good is Not Soft, Hope Bringer, Magnetic Hero, Omniglot, The Power of Friendship, The Quiet One, Silent Snarker, Dark is Not Evil, Five Stages of Grief, Horrifying Hero, Magic Music, Warrior Poet, Dance Battler, Warrior Monk, Determinator, Pintsized Powerhouse, Pragmatic Hero (don’t let me stay on TVtropes pls)
QUOTES: have a snippet of some writing?
Scrawled onto a piece of paper underneath his arm in Thancred’s handwriting and marked with Zaya’s name reads, “Your words, no matter how I react, do not change how I love you all.”
MUN QUESTIONS.
Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?
A1: Honestly, I think there would be two movies that could include Zaya; some comedy musical revolving around Zaya’s bard lifestyle while placing their active lifestyle in the background (called “A Bard Knock Life” bc i think puns are cool) or an action drama framed around Zaya and the Scions living some sort of high fantasy/DND type adventure bc I love that stuff called “The Unbroken Thread”. (THAT QUEST NAME STILL GETS ME)
Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like?
A2: Something featuring a flute, probably. I got attached to Zaya playing the flute being a former flute player myself. (I only wish the oboe performance sound bank clicked with me a little more…)
Q3: Why did you start writing this character?
A3: Originally, Zaya wasn’t meant to exist. I was literally planning on just creating A’dewah, Syhrwyda, and maybe Lumelle and Elwin in different roles. Then the Au’ra came out; I used my free Fantasia from the sub rewards just to be an Au’ra (I was a miqo’te before; shh, i was still babu who liked cats) and suddenly Zaya started being formed as Menphina Jewel. Before I knew it, that Menphina Jewel grew a whole backstory and a new name and new friends (Azim Steppe arc of Stormblood MSQ? Final nail in the coffin.) that slowly took over the previous two Warriors as the focus of my attention. I wasn’t even supposed to keep playing FFXIV past HW, dude. I had like a million other things to be doing at the time, but here I am, lying in my grave 3 years later still attached.
Q4: What first attracted you to this character?
A4: They’re (mostly) mute. I really wanted to explore what it’s like to not be able to talk and only converse in body language, but then I discovered that might be a problem, so my interest in sign language collided with Zaya’s backstory. It also helps me work out a personality without them sounding/looking too much like what I think is Basic Story ProtagTM like I tend to do on accident (see A’dewah and Valdis’s dialogue sometimes.)
Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.
A5: They can’t really speak. Funny how the thing I like most is also the thing I hate most. It’s very frustrating when I want them to convey something and then they can’t without using actual words and a voice because I haven’t got a clue on how to convey that through body language. How in the world do you convey ‘I feel like I’m doing arcanist calculations when you speak’ in nonverbal language??? I have no damn idea and every attempt looks like I meant something else.
Q6: What do you have in common with your muse?
A6: The snark, man. I have friends constantly commenting on how I’ve made a burn without me realizing I’ve done so, and it’s hilarious. The love for music also carried over big time, especially after discovering how fun the bard NPCs were to write and how they’d fit into Zaya’s relationship web. (they’re totally the more comedic side, but I love Guydelot and Sanson anyways.)
Q7: How does your muse feel about you?
A7: No clue, dude. Maybe thinks I’m boring? I don’t tend to want to drastically change things or look for new adventures; the biggest leap I’ve taken in two years is probably changing to a reed instrument from flute, and even then I don’t have to change key when I read music, so it’s not that big a deal.
Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?
A8: Urianger and Lyse, maybe? I like the exploration of repairing relationships after something that might have ended another, weaker bond. It’s also kinda fun trying to see how Zaya would react; they’re a lot more rash than I am in real life, and that’s honestly saying something. Alisaie and Alphinaud, however, are the most fun just because I know what I’m doing when I write them, and it’s funny to see how Zaya reacts (or has a lack of reaction) to their dynamic. Guydelot and Sanson fall into another category of ‘dear god I simultaneously love and hate these two’, while Thancred, Y’shtola, Urianger, Syhrwyda, Duscha, and Ryne fall into some sort of strong found family vibes that just get me everytime I think about it
Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse?
A9:…Doing job quests or side story quests or even MSQ I haven’t caught up on yet. Watch as I slowly rewrite as many MSQ and job quest scenes as I can in any of my Warrior of Light’s viewpoints. (currently chiseling away at some backstory/before they were Warriors stories after reading too deep into the race/subrace text and lore keep an eye out LOL-)
Q10: How long did this take you to complete?
A10: A day or two; don’t remember when I began. It was probably when I was procrastinating on homework, though. I didn’t post it until a week later whoops.
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What about Brienne? (Ask game)
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang best quality: her unending loyalty and dedication to those she loves and is sworn to protect. worst quality: same. she’s an honorable woman in a world full of dishonorable people. ship them with: jaime! they bring out the the best in each other and this was the show’s purest otp: it was all about goodness and faith and trust and for seven seasons we watched and believed in it. i’ll never believe that trash they tried to force on us in the last three episodes. eff off, d & d. brotp them with: jaime and pod, of course! oathfam ftw. needs to stay away from: uh, cersei, i guess? misc. thoughts: i will never be over the way this show did brienne and jaime wrong. i think it’s the greatest failing of the way the show ended (yes, even more than what happened to dany, which was rushed but not entirely unexpected). i fully believe they were going in another direction (jaime REJECTS cersei knowing she is pregnant again and they have a chance to establish their wretched dynasty because he knows it’s wrong and fights for the starks: cersei tries to kill him AND he hangs at winterfell for weeks knowing jon and dany are on their way to take her down and then just um, changes his mind? makes no sense and it’s apparent to me they changed the plan halfway through). more to the point, brienne seems to give up on romantic love after this and devotes herself to the kingsguard and its vow of celibacy: forever serving the realm in honor, even though after bran and tyrion’s manipulation and mind games, it’s clear they don’t deserve her (and imo the 7K is probably going to erupt into civil war pretty soon, so it doesn’t even matter). girlfriend deserved way better than she got.
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Three Fandoms
I was tagged by @dovahkiinshepardtrevelyan to give you more insight into my top 3 fandoms so here goes
Rules: Choose any three fandoms (in random order) and answer the questions, then tag people you wanna know better.
Three Fandoms:
Dragon Age / Game of Thrones / Arrowverse
The first character you loved:
Dragon Age: Alistair. I actually romanced him on accident cause I didn’t even know that was possible but he was so sweet and charming and funny and witty and so hopelessly romantic, I couldn’t help but love him and he still holds a special place in my heart
Game of Thrones: Jon Snow. Hands down. My sister kinda started me on this before I even watched the show because he’s one of her favorite characters and she started the show before I did. I liked that he wanted to be his own person and not just live as a bastard.
Arrowverse: Oliver Queen. kinda obvious since hes the main character and the first character you really know anything about. he grows so much just between when you meet him and the flashbacks you see and his attitude is just something i’ve always liked.
The character you never expected to love so much:
Dragon Age: This one is tough cause most of the characters I either love, hate, or am indifferent to. Probably Shale if I had to choose. I got the DLC cause it was free and I like to collect all the companions I can. I figured a golem would basically be good for fighting and that’s it but Shale’s dialogue is some of my favorite in the whole series and i adore her attitude. She’s basically me.
Game of Thrones: Tyrion. I didn’t expect to dislike him or anything like that but as the seasons go on, I just grow to love him more and more because he is truly an absolutely amazing character.
Arrowverse: John Diggle. He starts off being Oliver’s bodyguard and is really more of an annoyance than anyone likable but when he joins him on his mission and they start to become friends and then almost like brothers. it’s really wholesome and they’re dynamic is one of my all time favorites.
The character you relate to the most:
Dragon Age: Zevran. He keeps people at arm’s length because he doesn’t want to be hurt and sometimes doesn’t think he deserves it. He covers up his pain with humor and has a very loving heart even though he doesn’t show it. You truly have to gain his trust and his loyalty and break down his walls and that’s how I am.
Game of Thrones: Arya. The girl who doesn’t want to be a lady and would rather be a warrior, that’s 100% me. That’s why my own original character in my fic while being from a noble house abandons that to aid the Night’s Watch. Women who are just badass and don’t take anyone’s shit are my absolute favorite and very like my own personality about people.
Arrowverse: Felicity Smoak. She loves Oliver despite his past, despite the things he’s done and how broken he can be. She’s supportive and loves him even when they aren’t together and she’s incredibly smart. She loves the way that I love when it comes to my own soulmate and I love seeing that.
The character you’d slap:
Dragon Age: Solas. I do really like Solas as a character, don’t get me wrong. I think he’s very written and has a very cool story but there have to be better ways to restore what was lost to the elves or at least help out their lot in life without tearing apart the veil and killing everyone. Plus you know he lied to everyone and fucked some shit up. Also Loghain because I loved his character in The Stolen Throne and can’t believe he went so wrong in Origins.
Game of Thrones: Jaime Lannister. I hated him at the beginning but after being kidnapped and traveling with Brienne I start to really like him and he really starts to change and become a better person and that’s something I love to see. But his unending devotion to Cersei pisses me off because despite all the horrible things she’s done including getting their children killed, he still loves her and stays with her up until the end of season 7 which did make me happy. But yeah, that’s why I’d slap him.
Arrowverse: Malcolm Merlin. I actually love Malcolm at least in Arrow, he pisses me the fuck off in Legends but anyway. He loves his daughter and wants to be in her life and for awhile she wants that and lets him but his greedy power hungry ass always fucks it up and loses her.
Three favourite characters (in order of preference):
Dragon Age: Fenris, Zevran, Morrigan
Game of Thrones: Jon Snow, Arya Stark, Tyrion Lannister (it was Daenarys but she really bothered me last season with how power hungry she’s becoming)
Arrowverse: Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak, Sara Lance
A character you didn’t like at first but do now:
Dragon Age: Loghain would be the closest one to fit this category cause most of my character opinions don’t change. I played Origins first and of course hated him because he’s the bad guy and they want you to hate him but then when i read The Stolen Throne I loved his character in that, he was so relatable and his story and his romance with Rowen broke my heart. It made me feel bad for him in Origins instead of hating him and wanting to know what happened to make him change so much.
Game of Thrones: Jaime Lannister. Pretty much most people who watch the show can relate to this. His character development is so great and he changes so much you go from hating his guts and wishing his death to rooting for him. Also the Hound, I love the Hound now. I never really hated him but i didn’t really like him at first either.
Arrowverse: Laurel Lance. I hated her basically the entire time until she picked up her sister’s mantle as Black Canary. She was an annoyance and a whiny bitch who I literally just couldn’t stand any scene she was in and wished she would die. its ironic that they killed her once she got likable. Also like Black Siren and i didn’t think I would.
Three OTPs:
Dragon Age: Zevran/Mahariel, Isabela/Merrill, Fenris/Hawke
Game of Thrones: Jon Snow/Ygritte, Daenarys/Khal Drogo, Gendry/Arya
Arrowverse: Oliver/Felicity, Nathaniel/Amaya, Sara/Captain Cold
I tag @sassylavellen @annorarutherford @a-shakespearean-in-paris @enchantment1385 @heraldofwho
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Vampires
Ok. @xantissa had a great idea with just making a new post, so here it is. Vampires, bitches. Let me count the ways I love them. I’ve had several people ask me over the years why I’m so into them and I could never properly explain it. Since the last couple years have been consumed by the CATWS fandom, I haven’t really looked at this in a while. Maybe it’s time to give it another stab.
I’ve got to full 100% agree with xantissa on the pretty factor. I love pretty vampires. A huge amount of the appeal for me is the whole visual aspect of the genre; one part of that is character beauty. Not only do I love to look and imagine pretty things, but vampires are profoundly sensual and sexual creatures. I mean, there’s the obvious exchanging of fluids thing and biting on top of that. Those ideas alone lend themselves to intimacy. There’s also the blatant power exchange that happens which, again, can be extremely sexual. Anyways, long story short, I like those concepts to be associated with pretty things. Shallow, sure, but we’re talking about fantasy here. These are the things I like to fantasize, write, read, and art about. It’s got very little bearing on how I deal with people in real life. (I say ‘very little’ because there is always that person who I find who has the same likes as I do and it’s like, HELLO FRIEND COME JOIN ME FOR TEA AND VAMPIRE TALK!! so there is some effect. Sometimes we find each other and squeee.)
(Pic from Castlevania Symphony of the Night.)
Part of my love for their prettiness is based entirely on my desire to create art. The imagery is so beautiful it makes me ache to try and capture it as best I can. It mixes classic beauty with something visceral, something primal in us, when it’s mixed with shadows and blood and sharp teeth. Their inhuman grace and danger also makes an amazing contrast to the rest of the regular world; some very cool arts and stories come out of this.
Honestly, I love that mix in general. Pretty, funny, or otherwise ‘good’ traits all muddled in with the dangerous and dark. It’s super interesting to me; that grey area is where some really great stories can be told and a single picture can tell a thousand stories.
(Both Pics by Thores Shibamoto is from the Trinity Blood books.)
The drama queen in me loves all the flashy BAMF moments that vampires do. Hell, I’ve read whole novel series just for those amazing scenes alone (The Vampire Empire series comes to mind, which is fun horror steampunk with spectacular I Am A Badass scenes. Not high art, but pretty damn amusing.) That’s the kind of thing that tickles me pink; those dramatic moments where you suddenly think, “Holy shit, who is this guy? How can he do that??”
Since we’re on the subject, I absolutely love badasses and vampires are so good at being overpowered (thank you Dracula). They aren’t just awesome, they do it with style. I think there is a second layer of that for me too, and that’s vampires are often tragic. Their power comes at a cost and it is often dark and terrible.
Cool darkness powers are also extremely appealing for me too. Magic, born of blood and shadow, is primarily a visual appeal for me. However, I also like the implication of the cost of it. How and why they use it, how it works, what fuels it...these are all deeply personal questions and create great stories.
(Pic is by Kouta Hirano and is from the manga Hellsing which I would A+++ very much recommend for ridiculous badass hijinks.)
Which brings me to the next bit. I’m not necessarily a sucker (ha ha ha) for tragedy, but I do love the struggle that vampires are prone to. They have this need, an awful unending want that lives inside of them that they have no choice but to deal with. It colors everything they do and the best they can do is manage it. For some that means embracing it, reveling in it, and being the monster their addiction urges them to be. For others it means carefully limiting their actions, always on guard and always in pain. I love them all. The struggle is interesting to me. Who goes which way, and why? What situation makes that need worth giving into? Is it ever okay? There’s an element of danger here that is really appealing to me, too.
(Pic is by Yoshitaka Amano and is from the Vampire Hunter D series, which is amazing I can’t even tell you. Filled with tons of crazy sci-fi and questions about the nature of monsters. D is the ultimate struggling badass.)
I have a slight preference for those characters on the end of the spectrum. The absolute monster who knows what he wants and goes out and gets it, and the tortured, iron-willed good person who struggles with the darkness inside of them and maybe sometimes fails. Both of these create fun and interesting stories. I find the middle ground a bit boring. Because with the extremes, the story is still about their vampirism (or at least part of the story) because it effects how they interact with everyone. Those well adjusted characters in the middle of the spectrum don’t have this issue. Their vampirisim is under control and it becomes a side detail. At that point they might as well be any other kind of super hero or mythical creature, because the How and Why of their powers doesn’t matter. We could just as easily say Super Science or Magic. The story lies elsewhere so the nature of their powers becomes irrelevant.
Ok, let’s talk about blood. I’ve made no bones about the fact that I love blood. Knife play and blood play is a kink for me, so vampires absolutely press that button. Simple as that.
(Pic is from Solid&ETC and is of Alucard from Hellsing. This is fan art and not part of the official release. I encourage you to check out their website. It’s in Japanese but there’s just enough English that with some clicking around you can get by. Plus I think there is a translation on there somewhere.)
There’s also the aspects of how vampires interact with other people/creatures.
For vampires interacting with others of their own kind or other supernatural creatures, I love stories of bonding and cooperation. Like Raizel and Frankenstien in Noblesse, the relationship between them is compelling. There is this all consuming love and loyalty scaled on the terms of millennia rather than months or years. That kind of devotion (or co-dependent obsession depending on the story) is something that I love to read about. Maybe that’s one of the reasons that Captain America fandom appeals to me so much. Steve and Bucky have a connection so powerful that 70 years of torture and brainwashing can’t stop one from recognizing the other.
I love seeing how strange disparate creatures can work together, deal with their uniqueness, and help fulfill each others needs even when (sometimes especially when) those needs are dark.
For vampires interacting with humans...well, I’m sort of tired of the traditional predator/prey stuff and the run of the mill hunter stuff. What I really like seeing now days is what would cause vampires to interact with humans in other ways. Would one ever serve the other and why? Can they be friends? Can they be lovers? (Hello blood kink! Nice to see you again.)
(This pic is also by Kouta Hirano and is from the manga Hellsing.)
I like seeing how overpowered vampires can be in regular human settings; again, calling back to my love of BAMFs and drama.
Oh boy, and at this point this post is waaaaay longer than it probably needed to be, but there we go. I’m sure the moment I press post I’ll think of more stuff. If I think of enough I’ll make a Part 2 post.
...Halloween is coming up. I need to do some art or maybe some vampire captain america stuff. Mmmmmmm. Must consider this.
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Character Profile: Paul Roman Patts “Pongo”
“It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for – and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool – for love – for your dreams – for the adventure of being alive.” -Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Myers-Briggs: ENFP
Sometimes called the performer of the Myers-Briggs, it makes sense that Paul, collector of witticisms and incorrigible flirt, would hold the title of ENFP. Often the life of the party, never anything less than a free spirit, an ENFP’s buoyant, unending energy is for one purpose and one purpose only: seeking social and emotional connections in the crowd they so often surround themselves with. Paul is no different. He becomes restless and lonely if he does not have people to turn to and he depends on his friendships to steer him away from his weaknesses, like his malicious low self-esteem or his tendency to overthink or overwork. But because of Paul’s background, he has a lot of secrets and sources of shame, so those people-- the ones he can truly depend on-- are actually very seldom found. You can think you’re in Paul’s inner circle, but his charm, friendliness and communication skills are really fooling you-- you’re just one of the many people who Paul wants to please.
Paul’s love of people is rooted too in his love of writing and reading. His NF means that he’s an intuitive guy, interested in what motivates people and able to see under the initial surface (and part of that might be because Paul is so cognizant of the surface he presents to others that he assumes rather readily that most people are like him-- icebergs, more dwelling underneath). When he writes, he writes just as much to understand others as he does to understand himself, and though his shame stops him from sharing his work, Paul secretly hopes that one day his fiction could provide bridges between that inner self of his and others.
Hogwarts house: Slytherin Primary, Gryffindor Secondary with a very strong Slyth Model
Paul’s people-pleasing, affable, confident ways make him first seem like a Gryffindor to some, but that’s just the act, his Slytherin model making it easy for him to adapt to the needs of a situation. Paul’s real primary is Slytherin and it’s extremely strong. He’s motivated by what’s his: himself, his needs (his ambition is pretty traditional Slytherin), and the needs of his immediate inner circle. For Paul, that’s always meant the Patts family: because Patts’ take care of their own. It’s why he didn’t go to uni when he was 18, dropping his scholarship because of the death of his brother and his own mother’s mental health. It’s why for six more years Paul stayed in East End, loyal to his family who needed him, pushing his own dreams to the side-- he could come back to them. It’s why even now he can’t fully let go of Perdita or kick her from that inner circle (she’s got a foot out the door and he’s doing his best to cut her out), and why he let Roger back in though he’d been betrayed so badly. It’s ridiculously hard for Paul to unlearn the loyalty he has assigned to his people. That diehard loyalty is also particularly hard-won. For many, it takes years. Most people never get it.
Paul is also unusual though in that he’s a Slytherin that has almost completely kicked himself out of his circle. Many times in his life as said above, Paul’s dreams have come in direct conflict with the needs of those most important to him. Because Paul needs his people, can’t live without his people, he always chooses them over himself. He’s learned to belittle his needs to come to terms with these decisions, unknowingly doing more damage than he realizes.
The model/dor combo is often constantly in tug-o-war with each other too. The -dor is handed down to him by his brothers and father as he was taught to act first, ask questions later. And Paul’s got an extremely emotional core, his F probably his strongest piece of his Myers-Briggs; saying no to that emotional core causes him immense frustration. But he learned at a young age that the Patts’ way of doing things isn’t necessarily the best way and it was better to be charming than honest if it got him where he wanted to go. His Slyth model is then used in two different ways-- to play and flirt, and as a last-ditch survival technique, like when navigating the troubled waters of his relationship with Perdita. It’s a model because he hates doing it in these serious instances, always feels a little guilty and slimy, and would much rather just be himself. When Paul is relaxed though, then his- dor shines, and people can see that charge-headfirst, inspiring bloke, once head of his secondary football team and for good reason-- he’s the guy you want calling shots.
Enneagram: 3w2-- The Charmer
Basic Fear: Of being worthless Basic Desire: To feel valuable and worthwhile
If Paul’s Myers-Briggs and Hogwarts house help explain his social and emotional sides, then his Enneagram explains his professional and personal ambitions best-- these parts of him sidelined and sacrificed due to his upbringing and loyalty. Paul isn’t a very healthy 3 then, though he’s learned to perform the role well and was much healthier in his upper sixth-form days-- when he was a star athlete with a scholarship, admired by his peers and immensely popular with basically any “group” in his year. That’s because 3s strive to achieve, are often confident and well-spoken, and love to share their talents as much as they love to encourage the talents of others. They are role models, class presidents, homecoming kings and queens-- and Paul fit into that model well, even though he had to hide his background to do it and ignore the little voice that told him he was a fraud.
Threes are thus obsessed with their goals, and Paul, a dreamer, has too many goals to count. For Paul to have a successful life, he needs to go to university-- he’s always defined that as the first marker of a successful life, and he longed to be the very first Patts to do so. He wants badly to have a successful relationship and a healthy family as well. He needs to make money too in any way that he can. He doesn’t seek fame as much as he seeks that stability, though because he grew up in poverty, stability does seem materialistic to him in a lot of ways. It means a house, two cars, going to good schools, being able to go on vacation, afford nice, new clothes and nice, new toys and basically being able to give his people whatever he can. Paul won’t be happy until he can do that, then, or until he has reframed his understanding of wealth and success.
But because Threes connect their self-worth to that desire to succeed, it’s Paul’s own sacrifice of his essential needs that have resulted in the development of his secret second self, who feels worthless because he has fallen so far from what he’s always imagined. He will continue to feel worthless, empty, and like a nobody without any value or talent or thing to contribute as long as he picks his people over himself. And unfortunately for Paul, he’s stuck in a vicious cycle of doing just that.
Four Temperaments: Sanguine (Air)
People with sanguine personality type tend to be lively, optimistic, buoyant, and carefree. They love adventure and have a high risk tolerance. Typically, Sanguine people are very poor at tolerating boredom and will seek variety and entertainment. Because this temperament is prone to pleasure-seeking behaviors, many people with sanguine personality are likely to struggle with addictions. Their constant cravings may lead to overeating and weight problems.
These people are very creative and may become great artists. In addition, they are fantastic entertainers and will naturally do well if they choose careers in entertainment industry.
Astrology:
Zodiac: Libra (October 1st): Domestic, craves peace and balance, powerful sense of justice, innovative, charming, overthinking, over-imaginative, resentful, intolerant
Chinese Zodiac: Ram (1991): tender, polite, filial, clever, and kind-hearted, with a special sensitivity to art and beauty.
Celtic Tree: Ivy: The Celtic meaning of the ivy deals with connections and friendships because of its propensity to interweave in growth. Ever furrowing and intertwining, the ivy is an example of the twists and turns our friendships take - but also a testimony to the long-lasting connections and bonds we form with our friends that last over the years. Another tribute to friendship as well as the test of time is the ivy's ability to grow in challenging environments. The ivy is incredibly durable and can withstand harsh conditions. This is symbolic of our ability to stick by our friends no matter what.
The ivy is also a symbol of survival and determination for the same reasons. It seems to be virtually indestructible and will often return after it has suffered damage or has been severely cut back. This is an example of the human spirit and the strength we all have to carry on regardless of how harrowing our setbacks may have been.
Harry Potter Statistics
Wand: Unicorn heartstring, 13 ¾, Hazel- A sensitive wand, hazel often reflects its owner’s emotional state, and works best for a master who understands and can manage their own feelings. Others should be very careful handling a hazel wand if its owner has recently lost their temper, or suffered a serious disappointment, because the wand will absorb such energy and discharge it unpredictably. The positive aspect of a hazel wand more than makes up for such minor discomforts, however, for it is capable of outstanding magic in the hands of the skillful, and is so devoted to its owner that it often ‘wilts’ (which is to say, it expels all its magic and refuses to perform, often necessitating the extraction of the core and its insertion into another casing, if the wand is still required) at the end of its master’s life (if the core is unicorn hair, however, there is no hope; the wand will almost certainly have ‘died’). Hazel wands also have the unique ability to detect water underground, and will emit silvery, tear-shaped puffs of smoke if passing over concealed springs and wells.
Ilvermorny house: Thunderbird
Patronus: Timber wolf
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