#sometime after her injuries have healed and she's just kind of... existing

[agentvalentine]

i've got everything under control.

"LET ME HELP YOU" PROMPTS

“Do you, really?” Jill scoffs. “Are you sure about that?” She watches in silence as the door closes behind Excella. Wesker and his routine injections.

It took her a moment to piece it together. At first, Jill thought the injection was a virus. Something he had to repeatedly inject himself with to maintain the same level of strength. That the effects wear off eventually. But through observation alone, watching the way his body seems to attack him every time it starts craving a new injection, she realized it was actually something else entirely. Quite the opposie of what she thought. The injection isn’t a virus. It’s a serum to stop the virus that’s already inside his body from destroying it completely. Destroying him.

“I think it’s a little funny. Your body’s rotting away, and you have to depend on a serum to keep it glued together and functioning. I’m not sure how you can rule a world from the grave. But then again, maybe that’s why you’re trying to destroy the world in the first place.”

[hhnguyen]

aren’t you just precious

Everything medical related was a google search, so those in the medical field please don’t come for me - I was a literature major for a reason 😭

♢ Pairing: Parents!Jake & Neytiri x Oldest daughter!Reader

♢ Word count: 2k 

♢ Genre: suspense, action, angst, slight humor - Warnings: explicit description of injuries, blood, cursing, reader is a lil crazy

⌲ Description: Your iknimaya goes a little south. Aka introducing the ‘demon ikran.’

M A S T E R L I S T

Jake Sully, a marine veteran at the age of twenty-two had gone through absolute hell on earth before ever setting his disabled ass on Pandora. 

He thought he had seen the worse - comrades shot down right in front of his eyes, the blood covering their skin, blank dead eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes there were those who were actually blown to bits by bombs and grenades, screaming not even five feet away from him as they clutched their missing limbs, begging a nonexistent God for mercy.

Then there was his own injury. The pain he hardly remembered, because he had gotten to the point of delusion when they finally managed to drag him out of the war zone, half dead, and to the VA hospital.  

The incoherent words he had heard after waking up from his surgery despite his hazy vision and buzzing hearing at that time, yet the truth coming out of the doctor’s mouth had still hit him in the face like the largest ‘fuck you and your life’ to exist. 

“...ave severe spinal injury...fixable...expensive, marine.”

A severe spinal injury that was fixable but too expensive for a marine like him to afford. 

For an active man as he had been in the past, the thought of being paralyzed from the waist had been his worst nightmare to the point of being ready to waste away his life. 

Though even after all that shit, Jake Sully felt like he wanted to throw up as he stared at his oldest baby girl at the fresh age of fourteen laying there in front of him; delirious as he had once been in the same position, bleeding and bruised. 

He could only thank Eywa that your heart was still beating and your body intact. 

Well, mostly. 

The almost nauseous angle of your left wrist certainly did not look natural. And their bones were fortified, stronger than anything else to human knowledge. Yet it had managed to snap as easily as that. 

Neytiri - his beautiful, poor mate. She was distraught, one would say more so than him. Sitting only inches away from your fevering form in one of Hell’s Gate treating rooms for avatars, muttering prayers with dried tears upon her face. 

Your injuries had been so severe that not even the abilities of your grandmother, the Tsahik, could heal you solely through the spiritual power of Eywa. These kinds of injuries needed the advanced surgery of human technology. 

His other children were barred from coming inside, having been firmly ordered to remain in their village as he and Neytiri made sure that you would be okay. None of them wanted to keep them away, but neither did they want them to be traumatized by seeing your bloodied and broken form. 

A stark contrast from the smiling and proud sister that they knew. 

And yet, you had still managed to complete your iknimaya. 

Jake watched with a bated breath from the air upon Bob, his own faithful ikran through the years, as he saw the slight encouraging push Neytiri had given you on the edge of the nesting place. Your, oh so small form, looked firm and stubborn as you steadily stalked forward in a crouched form, the band for the beak held in your grasp with determination. 

He watched as one ikran flew away. Then another. And another. A third one. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. 

He had lost count after the eleventh. 

You were getting frustrated, he could see that. Neytiri was still there, calling out for you to calm down. To be patient as he moved Bob a little bit closer, but not too much to distract you if you were to see him hovering. 

And there he was. 

Jake had seen it before you did. The vicious screech even reached him high up in the clouds and echoed above all the other ikrans. 

He felt his blood run cold as the midnight blue beast, nearly black in color with its yellow and green detailing jumped down from the highest point of the rocks and landed behind you as you whirled around with snarl of your own. 

But then as fleeting as it had been, you had grinned, taking in the magnificent animal despite its bloodthirsty aggressiveness. 

“Aren’t you just precious?” Neytiri had told him of your words in the aftermath. 

His mate hollered in encouragement, and he could hardly stop the prideful tug of his own lips. 

Rather than you leaping on the beast, Jake straightened up as he saw the ikran run at you as well. Both were only inches away from crashing, as you last minute decided to slide beneath its belly - slight enough to fit as you rolled away on the other side and then slung the catcher around its mouth swiftly before throwing yourself on its back. 

His expectations had been hopeful from that moment. Positive. But wrong, oh so wrong. 

Rather than trying to snap at you by turning, he watched in horror as the ikran seemed to have a human mind as it slammed against a stone wall, you hitting it first. 

Neytiri had screamed, already half leaping forward but stopping herself as she saw you still clinging to the beast. 

Both had thought that had been the worst of it until the ikran tried it again. This time deliberately falling backward to land on its back with a rumble, where you were hung on. 

“LET GO MA ‘ITE! LET GO!” Neytiri was yelling. Or begging. He couldn’t be sure in his own fear. 

But both of them underestimate you, as a growl mixed with what Jake had assumed to be a painful yell from yourself erupted. Legs manage to wrap around the animal’s neck despite being crushed underneath its weight. 

He saw belatedly you were only holding on to the banshee catcher with one hand as you pulled at its head hard enough to make the animal let out another vicious muted screech. 

And then you truly proved you were his daughter. 

“C’MON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. GRANDPA BOB WAS BETTER THAN THIS!”

The ikran had gotten angrier, trashing before suddenly rolling like a fucking bowling pin on the stone-covered ground. 

Towards the edge of the cliff. 

Neytiri ran, and Jake dove, both reaching out and screaming your name as you and the ikran fell off the edge. 

As his mate leaned almost desperately over the edge, Jake forced himself to draw Bob back up, only for a few seconds - not to interfere with the rite. But it was in those few seconds he felt like his heart had stopped beating. 

There was that familiar screech again. 

Then you were soaring. 

Up in a straight line, past Neytiri and him. Tsaheylu clearly made as the ikran listened to your orders. 

There was a blinding grin on your face as you soared, clearly looking for him and letting out a whoop. 

The moment your eyes caught his, Jake felt his grin slip. 

Your eyes, open just moments before suddenly rolled back. Your whole body went slack as you fell over the side, your newly bonded ikran screeching at the sudden weightless feeling as the bond broke and your body went straight down. 

Jake hadn’t heard his desperate yell, this time diving down without stopping. 

He thought you were dead when he managed to catch you and flew back up, only to have Neytiri meet him in the air on her own mount, an expression so clearly in distress. Without a word, they both made haste back to the village, your newly bonded ikran following closely behind. 

“How is she?” His voice sounded like it had gone over fifty years of smoking with no water. It felt like his whole body was weighed down with stones. 

“She’s alive,” that’s all that Max could offer with a grim expression. “She will need surgery. The momentum of her slamming repeatedly against stones with the ikran’s weight on top has managed to collapse a lung.”

Jake had never wanted to sob like a newborn baby until now. But he needed to remain calm, or at least sane. For Neytiri’s sake, and your siblings.

“Usually surgeries like these lead to long-term conditions in life, but we’re certain that with the Na’vi biology she will heal just fine without complications. But it’s the healing that will take time.”

He was nodding along, but it felt like he was far away. Only hearing a slight inconsistent sound in his ears as he watched through the see-through glass into the room where you were all connected up to tubes and an oxygen mask. 

It was so human, the whole situation of you being in a hospital bed for avatars - Jake wanted to laugh. Not in humor, but maybe in slight delusion at the situation. 

“Okay, okay…” he swallowed. “Anything else?”

His human friend was taking pity on him, Jake knew. 

Max has been there since the beginning. Seeing Jake growing his own family and now being placed in this position. “Besides the broken wrist and strained ankle, it’s mostly cuts and bruises. So she will have to wear a brace as well as remain seated for the next week or so. And check-ups every three days.“

“Yeah, we can do that,” Jake croaked. “When’s the surgery?”

“As soon as possible.”

Another nod. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course.”

He had to nearly pry Netytiri away from you as she snarled protectively. But he had to explain that she couldn’t join in on the surgery due to contamination concerns. The whole room had to be fixed to match that of a Na’vi body, the surgeons wearing oxygen masks as the space was filled with Pandora’s toxic air for your sake. 

It was an open lung surgery, Jake had been told. A risky procedure even on earth. It had taken four hours. Four hours full of anxiety and fear. 

But you had pulled through, Max said, Norm closely behind with a relieved teary smile himself. The man was like another uncle to the kids despite his avatar form. He had watched their ceremonies, rites and connections to Eywa. So to Norm, this was just like a family member to him. 

You had slept for a full day and a half after the surgery, still confined to the avatar hospital room before your eyes had fluttered open with difficulty. A cough erupted followed by your painful whine at the action.

Netytiri had hushed you gently, crouching down and stroking your hair back. Fresh tears fell at seeing you conscious again after so long, sobs breaking out as you flashed a sleepy smile at her. 

Neytiri had felt like Eywa had pulled the entirety of Pandora away from underneath her feet during the hours of your examination and surgery. Clutching Jake to her and never wanting to let go as her oldest baby was at the mercy of nature and your own will to live through. 

But she knew. 

You were strong. You always had been. And you had fought. 

Neytiri had never imagined a day when one of her biggest nightmares nearly came to pass. 

To lose one of her children. 

She would rather throw herself off the highest point on Ayram alusìng than lose one of her precious babies before their time. She believed in Eywa with her whole heart and soul and knew their beings were only borrowed and one day had to be returned. 

But Eywa would not take her children away from her until Neytiri herself agreed. 

Until that time, she would do anything to protect them. But to have it happen during one of their most treasured rites in life had prevented her from doing many things. 

Interfering for once. Because you had said so before as if knowing how horribly wrong it could go. 

“Do not stop me, mama. I can do this on my own.”

Of course, you could. And you did. 

Despite having to brush the doors to Eywa’s home yourself to succeed. 

And as your parents carefully helped you back home to the village after five days of observation at Hell’s Gate after your surgery, you couldn’t help but snicker despite the stabs of pain.  

Your mom had admonished you gently to not aggravate your wounds. Whereas your dad held back the roll of his eyes with amusement tickling the sides of his mouth. 

“Why are you laughing, flower?”

Your grin was shit-eating as you looked up at him.

“My iknimaya was so much cooler than Toruk Makto’s.”

“You little skxawng.”

I feel like I lowkey pulled this one out of my ass, but oh well. 

taglist: @nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah   @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029​ @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs​ @melllinaa​  @sugarmummystuff6​ @lovekeeho​ @hai-kbai​

[dawneternal]

The Benevolent | Eight

☁︎ Eris x Healer OC

☁︎ Notes: okay. This is kind of a big one 👀 pls let me know what you think, if the descriptions make sense, etc. I'm really hoping the concept for Aya's powers is actually interesting and not dumb but here we go

I've gotten a lot of notes from new readers lately and I wanna say thanks so much for the love and comments!! 💛💛

☁︎ Warnings: battle/war, injuries, blood, death, grief (it's not that graphic I just wanna make sure I get all the tags needed)

☁︎ Word Count: 3.5k

☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ Latest Artwork

☁︎ Taglist (let me know if you want on or off) : @cauldronblssd @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove @landofpetrichor @secret-third-thing @bookwormysblog @mal-adaptive-dreams @daycourtofficial

The secret behind Aya’s power was the extra eye in her mind. Whether they were simply visions or she had some connection to another place, she did not know. But either way, she was born seeing things that no one else could.

Aya had discovered another world, visible only with closed eyes or when she let her vision go hazy. It was a place where wards and spells were visible things, overlayed on top of reality. She could see the building blocks of the universe, the materials that made up the world. And she could reach out and touch them. They were hers to fix and break and manipulate how she pleased.

After years of observing people and the things that they were made of, she came to understand that they could be sorted into three categories. Sewn things, woven things, and things to be fired in a kiln. The first three people Aya had known were one of each. The first memories to exist in her mind were ingrained with their imagery. Her mother, a tapestry. Her aunt, a quilt. And Thesan, a vase.

It took nearly a decade of life for Aya to understand that no one else saw things the way she did. No one else had another realm materialize when they closed their eyes. No one else healed by patching those quilts, stitching down loose threads, or filling cracks in pottery with veins of shimmering gold.

There were many, many times when she wished that she had never spoken about it to anyone. She could have learned sooner to close her eyes and not let anyone see the golden light that shone when she used her power. She could have taken less time to understand that she was different. Or maybe she could have been born knowing that she was not the same as everyone around her.

But it was too late for any of that. Her life had already been molded by her differences.

In truth, using her power was easy. So easy that it scared her. Sometimes an extensive injury or a complicated spell would draw a sweat from her brow, but even then she could go for days if she wanted to. The store of energy within her seemed endless. She had never experienced burnout, or ever been close.

There were so many terrifying truths lying underneath the lid she kept on herself. Her morbid curiosity, the things she could do, how much she was capable of. She never dug too deep, never once in her life testing the limits or possibilities. She could not bring herself to. She would not let herself become a thing that destroyed.

The fear that others carried around her was tangible. Whispers of witchcraft followed her everywhere - apparently her mother hailing from the continent was suspicious, with less known about the origins of their magic. And Aya's own tapestry was stained with the echoes of her mother calling her a liar, holding deep grudges over the discrimination that Aya had brought upon her family. There was no shortage of things that had made this existence difficult.

But on days like this, no matter how much she hated it, Aya thrived.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The battle had seemed so endless. The shouting, screaming, and clashing of weapons were a constant song, and Aya did her best to tune it out as she ran from bed to bed, cleaning, bandaging, and healing wounds. Her ears rang, desperate for a moment not filled with terrible noise. Her muscles ached, begging for her to take a break. But there were always more buckets to haul, more soldiers to drag to safety, more wounded to heal. She ignored every protest of her tired mind and aching body as she splashed through the mud, dodging arrows and swords, zeroed in on whoever needed helping.

She also ignored the magic within her that sang, thrilled to be used and stretched and tested. It pushed her body to keep going long after she had reached her physical limits, always restless and desperate to be let loose. But she would only ever release as much power as she needed to do her job well. Never any more.

Even still, Aya was always the last standing, the glow of her healing still going steady when all the others had used their last sparks. In class, this earned her jealous looks and accusations of cheating or witchcraft. But of course today, there was nothing but murmured thanks and praise. Aya ignored those, too.

At last, dusk fell like a funeral shroud, covering the silhouettes of broken bodies littering the battlefield. All of the gore blissfully hidden in the darkness. The sky could not, however, hide the sound of suffering and grieving of those who still lived, reaching toward the heavens in desperate tones.

Now, it was an effort to keep her head upright as she sat beside the High Lord of Night, her hand hovering over the gash in his arm. Rhysand, even with his weary eyes and the grime caked into the lines of his skin, watched her heal with a keen interest. If it was a different time, and her heart felt a little lighter, Aya may have asked him about it. Maybe he knew something that she didn’t. But right now it was taking too much focus just to stay awake.

When she closed her eyes Aya was stitching silver stars into a quilt, each block made from a different shade of night. Slightly darker shapes made up the subtle outline of a city, constellations hiding in same-colored thread here and there. It was lovely work, the stars twinkling and shimmering, the night sky velvety soft beneath her fingertips. It did not take long for his arm to be healed. With eyes glittering like the thread she had just held between her fingers, Rhysand thanked her and swaggered off to find his mate.

Truthfully, Aya liked him. Often, she came away from a healing session feeling as though she had read the person's soul front to back like a book. And in Rhysand, she liked what she learned. He was deeply kind, very clever, and generous. She knew without a doubt that his story of Under the Mountain was true. She could see the scars within him, like rips and tears in the quilt that he had tried to fix himself. Some were smoother, aided in their mending by his loved ones. He did not know how lucky he was to have them.

Of course, there were dark patterns in the fabric of his being. Shadows much deeper than others seemed to carry. But that seemed to be a burden bestowed upon all of the High Lords.

Aya liked the Night Court general, too. She had healed Cassian many times over. At first she thought it was recklessness and it was an effort to bite back on her lecture about looking after himself. But she learned, upon closing her eyes, that it was all deliberate. Calculated. It was not carelessness, but devotion. He would take shots and blows for others as often as he could, his shouts and commands ringing out louder than the din of battle. In his mind, he had not done his best unless he was nearly falling apart.

Healing Cassian was like knitting homespun wool yarn. Each stitch snug and precise, marled grey and white like the Illyrian mountains. The colors were so solemn, the material so practical, but the finished product warm and comforting. That seemed to sum him up. He always had a grin and a wink for her, always a genuine thank you and some absurd compliment. He was consistent, always, like the woven pattern of his being.

Over the course of the battle, Aya collected those images, like a scrapbook of the people around her. She mended seams, knit and wove, spun thread, molded clay. Every once in a while, she was too late. The knitting had too many missed stitches, too many loops had come loose and it all unraveled beneath her hands. Every time, she mourned with her whole heart. Grieved until it hurt.

If she kept her eyes closed, tuned into that other realm, she could watch the soul depart this world. Always drifting toward the sky like a wisp of smoke. The first handful of times she had witnessed it she had not been able to look away, frozen in place by some terrifying curiosity. Or perhaps it was the desire to see them off, on the chance that her guidance could provide one last comfort.

But she did not like to watch it anymore. It would show up in her dreams that night without fail, always with her hands reaching and that soul slipping through her fingers despite her efforts. Today, she did not need to give her nightmares any more material to work with.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Aya did not see Eris until the battle was over. The possibility of seeing him here, of seeing the worst, had haunted her every moment since she had arrived with the rest of the healers. She never had the heart to scan the lifeless bodies for his pale, freckled face, but she also feared that she would be the last to know if something had happened to him. There was a long list of people who would take priority first.

It was a strange thing, the aftermath of battle. The air was thick, relief and mourning twining together into something heavy and difficult to breathe. Celebratory laughter and singing clashed with the solemn sounds of funeral rites and grieving songs. Metal clanged as armor and weapons were moved and cleaned, soldiers lay resting wherever they could before the journey home.

Among the chaos, a glint of red captured Aya's attention and she turned to see Eris striding across the field, armor glittering in the sun and that crimson cape billowing behind him. Her breath caught in her throat as he pivoted and his russet eyes locked on hers. The relief was immense, almost painful as she drowned in it.

Even so, she was prepared to see him turn the other way and pretend he hadn't seen her, as he had done at the High Lord's meeting. And she would be content, just knowing he had lived. But he did not look away. Eyes growing wild, he turned on his heel and rushed toward her. He pulled off his gauntlets and let them thump to the ground, hands reaching for her face the moment he was close enough.

"Sparrow," He murmured, turning her head back and forth to look for injuries. He took in her tired eyes, swiping a thumb over the purple bags and lines of dirt. "I was afraid I'd find you here. I'm so glad you're alright."

Aya was speechless, staring up at him with her lips parted as she searched for words. She was still confused, her thoughts snapping back and forth between lingering anger and relief to see him. Her skin burned under his touch, under the eyes of those that watched them as she could practically hear the gossip forming on their tongues.

"I never got to apologize," He said in a rush, his voice hoarse. He paused, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips.

Aya’s head throbbed. She did not have room for this in her mind, today. Not for the memories of their last conversation or for whatever game he was playing now, looking at her like she was the sun when anyone could see and overhear his pet names.

Her mind was still reeling from these last days, trying to process everything she had seen and heard and felt. There had been no room for hesitation and no place for her fear, all anxiety barred from her body so as not to weigh her down. Now the fear and pain rushed back in, like predators reclaiming their territory and she was nothing but a vessel for the conflict, barely holding herself together.

So, Aya let her gaze drop from his eyes and fall to the grass, breathing deeply in an attempt to placate the beasts threatening to tear her apart.

Eris watched, and she missed the understanding dawning on his face as he studied her trembling form. He swallowed the dozens of things he wished to say and put aside his desire to extinguish the nightmare that had haunted him since the High Lord's meeting. Later. He could say it all later.

As her eyes trailed back upwards, they snagged on Eris’s hurt knee, blood dripping between the plates of armor on his leg.

"You're hurt," She said, unable to resist despite her tiredness, "Let me heal you."

"Alright," He was still for a moment as he considered protesting. But right now he'd do anything to lift even a fraction of her burden, so he picked up the gauntlets and followed after her.

She led him to a quiet tent, only a few others inside, resting or bandaging fellow healers. A few heads turned at the Autumn heir, tall and regal. And then their stares flickered to Aya, the black sheep of the Dawn Court leading the way for him. She ignored them, as she was developing quite the talent for.

"Sit," She murmured, scurrying to find a clean rag.

Eris obeyed, sitting on the edge of a cot and removing the armor from his leg to reveal his bloody knee. He watched her trembling hands, chest aching as he imagined what she may have been through. The memories of his first battle had stayed sharp through the centuries, the desolation still so heavy after all this time.

"Aya," He said when she’d returned, keeping his voice soft.

Taking the supplies from her hands and setting them aside, he reached out and took her shaking fingers in his, gently pulling her in to stand between his knees. He rubbed his thumbs over her icy knuckles, grimacing at the dried blood under her fingernails. His power was nearing the dregs, but he still willed a bit of heat to the surface to warm her skin.

She looked up at him, such sorrow in her grey eyes, and when her chin wobbled, it broke him. Aya was strong and brave and could do whatever she put her mind to. But he would still choose to keep her away from this place, too full of death and hurt and blood.

"You did well, today," He whispered.

They stayed like that for a long moment, Aya standing in the shelter of his body, absorbing his heat and all the comfort he tried to emanate. This time as she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, Eris's warmth began to wash away the terrible things she had seen. The ways she had failed. The lives that had slipped into the afterlife while she had no choice but to watch.

The burlap tent dimmed the sunshine, beams of light sneaking through ripped holes in the fabric to dapple Eris’s skin. Between those golden spots and his whiskey-brown-sugar scent, Aya could almost pretend they were somewhere else, under the canopy of the Autumn forest.

"Thank you," She murmured. Her eyes fluttered open and Eris let out a breath, relieved at the return of the steadiness he'd grown used to.

Heaving a deep sigh, Aya grabbed a cloth and began to wipe the blood from his skin. With the tender moment passed, the silence between them was heavy, charged with unsaid things. It did not help that the air was filled with the tang of blood and the cries of the injured.

Aya tossed the bloody rag into a bucket and closed her eyes once more.

Through the darkness, shapes began to emerge, that other world coming into view. Searching for his essence, she found the woven texture of Eris's tapestry. It appeared before her in all its loveliness - a gorgeous scene of Autumn woods, adorned with thread that shone like rubies. She had seen it a dozen times by now, but she was always captivated by it's beauty. By the secrets hiding between the threads.

She desperately wished to know the meaning of all of them. The hounds and the maple leaves were clear enough, but what of the birds and the chess pieces and the interlocking pattern cleverly hidden in the leaves of the trees? There were stories in all of them, pieces that made Eris who he was. Her hunger to know them had never lessened, and she was beginning to wonder if it ever would.

The section that needed fixing was interlaced with gold, and Aya found herself already equipped with a length of gold thread, wrapped around her forefinger like it was a spool.

She went to work, filling the gaps in the images and stitching down loose threads. Her magic eagerly rushed to the surface, still energized and ready. Its endlessness reminded her of the time of daily faebane doses to keep her powers from being revealed to Amarantha. The memory was bitter on her tongue, the horrid taste of faebane like a vengeful ghost.

At least now, she did not have to rush. There were no rows of beds waiting for her help. It was just Eris, patient and calm and not in any danger.

There was just enough golden thread around her finger to finish the job. But as she tried to find the end of the spool and tie off her work, she found it had wrapped in a loop in the exact place her golden band should be. Pulling on the string revealed it to be as unmoving as Edana's ring, as if it were attached to her skin. Aya tugged her hand back but the thread pulled tight, attaching her to Eris’s tapestry.

Again, she pulled, but it did not budge. A pulse traveled back down it, sending a tingling feeling through her hand, as if the tapestry had tugged back.

What was this? This was like no healing she’d ever experienced. Once more, Aya yanked as hard as she could, and heard Eris make a choking sound in front of her.

Her eyes snapped open. She was met with the image of Eris, his brows furrowed in confusion, a hand resting on his armored chest. Aya's heart stuttered, her throat closing with her rising panic. Time seemed to slow to a stop, and through the blood rushing in her ears, she heard his heartbeat. Her own echoed, calling back like a songbird.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, afraid of the answer.

"A chest pain," He said, and he shook his head, any suspicion clearing from his mind. He was oblivious.

Aya could not breathe. She closed her eyes again, willing her lungs to fill with air, and she could still see that golden thread, bridging their tapestries. She dared not pull it again, not with Eris right in front of her.

Had she done that? Had she made it herself? Was she that powerful, that she could forge a bond with her own hands?

"Are you alright?" Eris asked, eyes flicking back and forth between hers.

She ignored him, thoughts whirling faster and faster. She couldn't look at him anymore. His gaze burned, burned like fire and it hurt. The space between them was painful and her body was crying out for her to close the gap, to weave every thread of herself together with his and become one.

“I need you to go,” Aya swallowed hard. Eris opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off with an unconvincing smile and added, “I just need to lie down.”

He stared at her for a long moment, anxiety written so clearly in his eyes. It took all of the strength Aya had left not to tear away from his gaze, not to let tears rise to the surface and his hands wipe them away. The magnetic draw pulling her towards him only aided in confirming her suspicions and furthering her panic.

Finally, his lips drew into a tight line and he nodded.

“Please take care of yourself,” He said, slotting the armor back into place. At the entrance to the tent, he gave her one last glance before returning to the field.

Aya managed to wait until he had left to let the tears fall, dropping slowly to her knees and bending to let her forehead rest on the edge of the cot. What had she done?

She hadn't meant to do it. She had only been trying to heal him. Oh gods, had she trapped him, by accident?

All at once, everything that she was not flooded her mind. He deserved someone better. Someone less strange, someone people weren't afraid of. Someone smart and gorgeous with a mind for politics. Someone from Autumn, who Edana would love and welcome.

Trapped trapped trapped hammered against her skull in a steady rhythm. What had she done? Selfish selfish selfish.

She cursed her power over and over. It was not possible. It could not be possible.

And yet, she felt empty, her body acutely aware of his absence. The thread itched, begging her to chase after him and be closer. She had dreamt of a mating bond before, in the way that most young people did.

But this did not feel like a rose-tinted daydream come to life. This was another nightmare.

______________________________________

p.s. there is a metaphor in here that was especially fun to write if you can find it I'll give you a prize 👀

[whalesforhands]

hear me out: dyf!mc touching gojo AND geto too, but not only their muscles. what if she traced her fingers along where she remembers there being scars or injuries? what if she were to ask them what happened after she “died?” i feel like that would make for some rlly heart wrenching hurt/comfort and closure to the failed mission for the trio? :((

-omori anon

warnings: suggestive, but only in the first few paragraphs

“Does it ever… Hurt?” It’s a vulnerable moment, pillowtalk after a session of copulating that leaves you all sweaty, lying in between the both of them as you’re on your side, facing Satoru as you trace the scar on his chest.

You weren’t aware he had one too, not when you had just noticed the one on Suguru.

It catches your eyes, the mark on his chest as your hands trail down the skin as he’s on top of you, your passion no where near interrupted as your hands subconsciously move to trail over the ‘X’.

He’s so close, so warm… A shy tilt of your head upwards towards him has his hips coming to a slow, his neck craning down to meet you halfway— Only for your lips to map across the scarred skin, shyly leaving kisses before your twinkling eyes look back up to meet his widened gaze.

A breath sucked in, a hand grasping both of your wrists, before Suguru’s mouth is desperately slotting over yours, a muffled yelp is all that is able to escape you.

“…fuck, that was cute.”

“Not when you’re here.” Satoru’s voice is full of steady adoration as he watches the arm Suguru has draped over you, your waist cuddled into the black-haired man’s arm as Gojo himself settles a hand on your cheek.

“Shoko said that you both were the only ones to be able to fully heal anything.” So… Why didn’t they? Why keep this painful reminder?

There’s a beat of silence that passes; and the air changes, tenser, hesitatant and a swallow of doubt.

Did you say something wrong? You’re starting to upset yourself as your hands still on his chest. “You don’t have to answer if—“

“I suppose I lacked confidence.” His eyes close as he brings your hand up to his face, lightly kissing your fingers. It’s unusual; seeing the Gojo Satoru lying next to you quiet, shaken, with a trembling hand that goes to desperately clutch at yours.

“I didn’t believe in myself enough to remember.” It’s a bane, his existence. Something he’s realized at the mercy of time. There’s nothing fulfilling about being ‘the strongest’ if there’s no one beside you. Though, he will be able to handle it, to power through it all, through anything.

But at what cost? If he already lost you; if he lost Geto Suguru… What will become of him? Why does he keep this lowly mark on him that will only flay his mind with torture and distress?

Because it has you. It has you— Inscribed into the affliction, lived on through the searing burn it gives him sometimes.

He’s only human, even if born with power to rival the gods. Age will catch up to him, jamming his thoughts and evaporating the swirling blue of his youth away.

So even if his precious blue memories were broken beyond recognition with time, this unsightly scar that scalded his skin— As long as it was proof that you existed, he wouldn’t forget about it.

A novelty that had yet to wear off. It almost brings a tear to his eye how poetic he thinks he is; he wonders what Suguru thinks. It was never discussed between them; more like a silent contract they’ve subjected themselves to every night as they indulged in each other’s presence in the days without you.

A chuckle leaves his lips as he breathes out the next few words. It’s kind of funny, humorous to him that he gets to say them now, the words he had been trying to formulate for the nights that lost you.

“I love you.” And he’d say it for as many times as you want— As many lives as you and Suguru can continue to exist.

I love you I love you I love you I love you—

It’s in these moments that Gojo Satoru realizes how much weaker he is than he thinks, how the warmth of your blood sparks against your skin, how the distance of your pigments are finally gone. How the shine of your eyes still persist even after all this time.

So don’t leave again. Don’t.

“For me— I guess I didn’t want to change.” Suguru’s soothing voice is breathed into your ears as the soft whisper is audible enough for all three to hear. He finds it comparable to a brand, a morbid reminder of their failure, and at the same time— Of you. Would you call it selfish or nonsensical if he said this was only one such proof of their love?

Geto Suguru likes to think he took you for granted. To wallow in what he lost, what he failed to save, what he couldn’t do, even when struck with grief and anguish and terrible anger.

Is it an easy thing to say? Or is it a difficult thing to do? He can’t decide; Not when the act is to accept the fact that you had gone without them. The undefined and unknown seeped into him, a lack of words that only left him holding onto smoldering feelings.

He was lost, listless and blank, steeped in days that bloomed him into despair if it wasn’t for the glowing hope that allowed him to hang on in the form of Gojo Satoru.

“But it shouldn’t matter now, right?” His nose buries itself deeper into the crook of your neck as he feels you here. It almost scares him to get used to this.

In the time you were gone, it is painful how much things had been subject to change, how they all couldn’t stay the same as it was back in those nostalgic summers.

“I’m…” Speechless. You don’t know what to say as these two men nuzzle further into you, their holds getting tighter, wanting— Almost protectively. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be.”

“Whaddya apologizing for?”

You nearly want to cry at the way they’re so dismissive of their own past. “For making you think back to those times.”

“It’s really nothing,” Suguru closes his eyes as he breathes in the scent of your hair, the loveliness of your skin against his. “You’re here now.”

He answers for the both of them when he says that line.

There is no use for yesterday, no point of crying for what that was lost. So, let them love you and each other until the end of this time, and let them do it again in the next life all over again.

Because it’s odd, an enigma— With how your hands have always been warmer than theirs.

masterlist

[danganronpa-shipping-galore]

✨Danganronpa "As a Ship" New & Improved Edition #2 ✨

Canon Fueled Facts:

Despite them being in the same class, they don't have any meaningful interactions or relationship in-canon, but like the rest of their classmates, he is distressed when Mikan is missing in Despair Arc, and when it's revealed that she is the killer and gets executed in SDR2.

EDIT: In Despair Arc Episode #1, Kazuichi is seen in class with bandages after getting hit by a truck. While the school's actual nurse could have healed him, it's also likely that Mikan decided to help right away since that is her nature.

Bonus material:

For some reason Kazuichi doesn't show up in Mikan's relationship chart, but in Kazuichi's, Mikan says "aren't you going to bully me?!" This seems to imply that Kazuichi doesn't bully her like so many others have. In fact, going through SDR2 and DR3 again, he is never shown to judge or bully her.

Headcanons:

They are both awkward, anxious messes when it comes to asking each other out. Even more so when they actually go out on their first date.

Kazuichi often feels intimidated by Mikan's over-the-top behavior, but he is often very concerned for her and tries to be a calming presence for her as much as possible.

Despite their apprehensive nature, if either of them is in trouble, they do not hesitate to defend the other.

When Kazuichi gets many kinds of injuries doing his mechanic work, Mikan takes his safety very seriously, even if it's just a small cut. At first, Kazuichi is a bit taken aback and annoyed, but soon enough, he actually loves having someone caring for him.

Much like her reactions to his minor injuries, she behaves like his personal doctor by watching out for his high sugar consumption (due to his canonical love of sugar and soda).

Beneficial Similarities:

They are both very skittish, insecure people who still struggle with abuse from their past. Because of this, they would likely understand each other on a deeper level be comforted by each other's presence.

Complementary strengths:

Kazuichi could encourage Mikan to lay back and try new fun things; potentially bringing out an adventurous side of Mikan she never knew existed.

Mikan could coax out Kazuichi's more sensitive nature.

Main Struggles:

Despite it being possible for them to relate and understand each other due to their similar struggles of insecurity and abusive pasts, it could also take quite a bit of time for them opening up. Also, because they both struggle with such similar behavioral flaws and vulnerabilities, it could create ongoing tension and misunderstandings.

Kazuichi would probably see Mikan as overly naggy about his well-being sometimes.

Mikan's hypersensitivity is like a ticking time bomb, so Kazuichi would have to be careful with his words as often as possible.

Expressing their love:

Like she does for everyone else, Mikan would make sure Kazuichi is well cared for.

Kazuichi would make practical gifts for Mikan and help her out with the more dangerous things.

Due to their mutual need of reassurance, they would likely hold each other often.

Tropes:

The Underdogs

Opposites Attract

[danizbunbunz]

☆ HOPES CALAMITY (1/4)

- AU AND ART BY @danizmomota -

TW/CW: Blood, Implied Cannibalism, Graphic Injuries, (in the form of writing and imagery) Basic Danganronpa stuff

Main Concept: Hopes Calamity (or AKA Remnant of Despair AU) is a "What If" universe of what if everyone had been captured and brainwashed by Junko and turned into her personal despair subjects? However, despite them being brainwashed, these remnants still have their own feelings and weaknesses. Unfortunately Junko completely ignores that and treats them like crap anyway.

Inspiration: Danganronpa 2, Goodbye Despair & Danganronpa 3, The End of Hope's Peak High School.

^^Does this AU follow the canon story?: Sort of, it follows Danganronpa's concept of Remnants of Despair, but doesn't go with canon (of D2) since it's everyone being turned into ROD'S, again it's a "What if" AU.

Characters//Remnants: (Please note these are only characters that have been drawn, so only a few are here and not EVERYBODY is on here srry srry)

☆ SUBJECT_LK (REMNANT OF DESPAIR, LEON KUWATA)

STATUS: ALIVE // STABLE // UNDER SUSPICION

"Subject is very hot-headed, yet very cooperative. He seems to enjoy jewelry, punk music, and overly decorated clothing. Reports say his Head and Wrist injury seem to be somewhat healed the fall. Although, subject has been acting suspicious with SUBJECT_YH lately.. reports have been known that they hang out, but sometimes for a little too long..."

☆ Extra Facts/Info:

Leon was escaping Hopes Peak Academy along Yasuhiro as it was collapsing around them, only for the ground to crack underneath Leon's feet and make him fall into a giant pit. Fortunately he had survived the high fall, but he unlucky to have a terrible injury to his head and wrists, and to have fallen right where Junko wanted him.

Whenever he was taken in to be subjected to Junko's experiments, she didn't care to fix Leon's injuries, and claims she rather just "let them heal on their own."

When Leon was given his bat, he didn't like how it was just a regular baseball bat, so he forged his own spiked baseball bat, kind of like a mace! (He also changed it so it's easier to bash peoples heads in)

Leon canonically (In this AU) has gotten an ear infection because he tried to make his own jewelry from metal scraps and apparently didn't clean them well.

Leon's weak spot is his goatee, it hurts like hell whenever it's pulled.

Leon was planned to be executed as a sacrifice for Yasuhiro, mainly because Junko was breathing down their necks when they had unfortunately failed a mission, and Yasuhiro had no more strikes before he's executed, and Leon decided to take that fate for him, however this sacrifice would take a massive mental toll on poor Hiro.

☆ MONO3_LK (ROD!LEON MONOKUMA)

STATUS: ONLINE

"This Monokuma is known to act a lot like their owner, just as chaotic, but has a redeeming quality of being able to carry a heavy spiked bat. (which was also its owners.) Although this Mono also seems to be... very decorated. its owner must of had fun adding all of that useless jewelry."

☆ Extra Facts/Info

One of the first few Monokuma's to be made, hence why his subject name is "MONO3_LK."

The Tongue piercing is actually its Off & On button, which is convenient, but not whenever your talking.

Sometimes Leon and his Monokuma sing like as if they are in Karaoke. (They do NOT sound good.)

☆ SUBJECT_YH (Remnant of Despair Yasuhiro Hagakure)

STATUS: ELITE // ALIVE // STABLE (?) // UNDER SUSPICION

"Subject was originally apart of Makoto's little "Hope Group." so this subject should know more about how to finally wipe hope from existence... However reports say he hangs out with SUBJECT_LK for a suspiciously long time.. Also, he himself had mentioned about having constant bleeding from the forehead. Along with reoccurring nightmares..."

☆ Extra Facts/Info:

After successfully fleeing Hope's Peak, Yasuhiro managed to hold out along with Makoto, Kirigiri, Togami, Toko and Aoi to defend what was left of "Hope." However the tables turned when they were taken off guard and Junko was able to get hands on Yasuhiro, Toko and Aoi, Hence making them the first subjects of Junkos experiments. And since they the first, the went through the worst.

Yasuhiro wears his blindfold constantly, he only rarely takes it off whenever it gets too dirty. (or drenched in blood that is...) However he risks letting the Enhancement Drug activate. And speaking of his blindfold, it's worn to conceal his dry blooded slit eyes that are a result from Junko's "Remnant Transformation process." And he only gets his eyes changed in surgery later in the story. But more off of Yasuhiro's injuries, on his forehead he has an eye carved into his forehead that was very loosely stitched back on, so whenever he is really stressed, he tends to bleed from there often.

He's normally seen hanging out with Leon, but that's only because Leon is the only person who actually treats him decently. They are pretty much best friends. Until Leon is executed, that is.. in fact, whenever Leon is deceased, Yasuhiro buries him so he didn't die in vain. (He kept a couple rings too.)

Yasuhiro was actually one of the first remnants I had designed, and a lot was taken in and out from his design. Mainly because at the time he was one of my biggest favorites and the favoritism was going so hard.. one of the few first concepts of Yasuhiro is that he wasn't actually blind (despite his eyes being slit almost in half) and that he can see with his "third eye" and or his crystal ball that he carries with him. But this was quickly scrapped since it seemed "unrealistic and pretty much impossible, so Yasuhiro relies more on sound then visuals, yet he is one of the most feared Remnants.

☆ SUBJECT_KM (REMNANT OF DESPAIR, KAITO MOMOTA)

STATUS: ALIVE // STABLE

“Subject is very energetic and out there. seems to enjoy hanging out with SUBJECT_MH, stargazing and using his trusty brass knuckles we provided him. The Robotic eye seems to be functioning properly. No malfunctions have been recorded. however, I'm thinking of replacing some limbs... Oh, and before I forget, be sure to separate KM away from SUBJECT_KO after missions, they seem to have a record of fighting each other... and almost killing each other in the process."

☆ Extra Facts/Info:

Kaito was fleeing along with Maki and Shuichi to safety, only to be caught in the crossfire of the other remnants. Kaito had been left behind, but Maki couldn't bare to lose him, so she ran back and joined him as together they sealed their fates.

It isn't really shown in the picture, but Kaito was planned to have a purple star mark/tattoo on his left eye, mainly to indicate where his "robotic" eye would be. Speaking of, Junko had basically had removed his left eye then replaced it with an eye that has a laser sights on it, that way he can see enemies from afar, and assess them, Also, Kaito was actually planned to be given a robotic arm and leg to help with movability and strength, but I had never officially made a reference for it.

^^More on his robotic eye, if his eye is damaged, the Enhancement Drug will activate.

He also wears a giant fur cape, similar to his regular jacket, he has space patterns inside the coat. it's not the "Ultimate Astronaut" without it!

SUBJECT_MH is Maki, and he loves to hang out with her because he feels superior, like a king. (She's his bodyguard, and she secretly likes doing it, but hates when he's so full of himself.) Speaking of other friends of his, He's also good friends with SUBJECT_GG, Which is Gonta! He helped Gonta to walk once he gained his insect-like legs, and Gonta has appreciated him ever since.

☆ SUBJECT_KO (Remnant of Despair, Kokichi Ouma)

Status: ALIVE // UNSTABLE

"Subject has been injected with small doses of the “Enhancement Drug.” Although it probably wasn’t a good idea…. Eh, he’ll be fine, he consented with it anyways. Subject has been reported to shake and laugh hysterically often. He also seems to love seeing objects, buildings and people explode. Oh, and SUBJECT_KM seems to hate SUBJECT_KO…. Subject_KO even tried to blow SUBJECT_KM’s head off…."

☆ Extra Facts/Info:

Whenever Kokichi was captured by Junko, he tried to lie his way though, but in his attempt of bluffing, backfired heavily. he ended up being one of the most unstable remnants there was.

Kokichi absolutely wants to see Kaito's demise, constantly helping the enemy (ex: Makoto) by giving them tips and or giving them classified information about Junko. Oh, and since he's a professional liar, sometimes even Junko can't tell if he's telling the truth or not. Not behind that clown mask, So she has trouble figuring out if he doxxed her new hideout location again.

Speaking of the mask, it's actually stuck to his face... Literally. If you try to pull it off, you better be ready for an unpleasant sight... Plus, he's already been on the Enhancement Drug for so long that keeping him from putting dynamite in your mouth.. is gonna be pretty difficult.

Kokichi doesn't really care about SUBJECT_MH, (Maki) but he finds her slight crush on SUBJECT_KM (Kaito) to be stupid. But while on the topic of "Friends," he's actually quite good buddies with SUBJECT_GG! (Gonta) They do normal friend stuff like telling jokes, blowing up buildings, doing dynamite tricks, all that good stuff! He's totally not manipulating Gonta at all... Right?

☆ SUBJECT_GG (Remnant of Despair, Gonta Gokuhara)

Status: ALIVE // RECOVERING

"Subject was...quite the challenge to contain, but now I have him all to myself... I have been wondering about something though. According to his records, he's the Ultimate Entomologist," going by that logic he must really love bugs huh? Well in case, I wanna try something new this time..."

☆ Extra Facts/Info:

Gonta had put up a good fight against Junko and her other subjects, however, he was quickly out numbered and defeated. Junko then had made sure he was contained, because she wanted to try something else with this Entomologist. she decided to conduct a series of experiments to test out if she can give someone the properties of an insect, such as limbs, wings, antae, etc. And thus, Gonta was strapped down, and given new body parts. (which technically does imply that Junko had to.. saw some things off.. ouch.)

Once given his new limbs, he could barely walk in them, And Junko didn't seem to care about him anyways, So she let him suffer on his own. That was until SUBJECT_KM (Kaito) had noticed his struggle, and decided to help out a fellow man in need. Kaito was astonished on how cool he looked, which reminded him of a king and a dragon, so Kaito decided to befriend Gonta and help him out with his new body. Ever since, Gonta has been close to Kaito. But when it comes to other people, one person he dislikes heavily is SUBJECT_KO. (Kokichi) But he can't do anything about it. Kokichi is constantly treating Gonta like nothing but an object, Hurting him with his dynamite, constantly insulting him, any sort of insult or bullying you an think of. (Which in most cases Kaito interferes and makes Kokichi stop, but worst case is Kaito is out doing a mission, and Gonta can't do anything but listen to what Kokichi says.)

Since now Gonta is like an insect, he needs certain types of food to survive, he mainly enjoys meat, but due to food being so scarce in his AU, Kaito usually has to feed him human meat. (Which by the way, Gonta HATES eating, but will eat anything to survive. Poor guy.)

...And that's all I have for now! I'll be making some more posts about this AU soon! Hope you enjoyed my endless yapping :} - Dani

[hellishtrickster]

Fox And Found

Starter for @oneandahalfwolf

Orianna stumbled her way through Salt Lake City. It had been a long few months. She’d come from the UK to do some research and potentially some diplomacy with the American Fae population.

For her troubles, she’d been attacked with iron by some religious zealots which forced her to take her fox form to flee. However being beaten with iron had made her seriously sick on top of her injuries, ensuring she couldn’t take her humanoid form. To add insult to injury the injuries meant she couldn’t hunt very well, and the inability to take humanoid form meant she had no access to her money so she couldn’t buy food. That in turn made it harder for her to heal. Orianna had to resort to whatever she could scavenge…and sometimes that made her ill enough to bring it back up. Desperation could make you eat things you’d otherwise never dream of eating.

In a world filled with magical beings, one would think there’d be more tolerance. But nope! Orianna just had to have the luck of running into the worst kind of bigoted non-magicals…fucking bastards. She’d continue to curse them and their very existence until she either got out of this situation, or died. The latter seemed more likely after wandering for miles and miles on end. She couldn’t remember where she’d been when she started her journey at this point.

Orianna ducked and weaved through the various humanoid legs, trying to avoid being trampled. She sniffed the air trying to find something easy to scavenge. Her head turned toward an alley. Something smelled good.

Recently dumped scraps maybe?

She weaved through the crowds as quickly as her emaciated form would let her. It wasn’t like her fur caught the eyes of people to warn them of her presence anymore either.

Making it into the alley, Orianna saw a paper bag. She could smell something greasy. Fries maybe? The bag was beside a turned over cardboard box with a bundle of clothes in it. Weird, but safe enough.

Darting forward, Ori began to nose her way into the paper bag. Hopefully she’d found something edible this time.

[mak3itr7ght]

Pair: Park Jimin x fem!reader (Coraline and the secret door AU)

Words count: 5.278

TW: mention of blood.

Music suggestion:

Y/n's pov :

'Here we are, Y/n! This is the place where your father and I have met! The Pink Palace...’

As soon as I got out of our car, the grandeur of this huge house overwhelms me. It looks like a very old... and creepy building but, to be honest, I like this. It’s not that I’m a goth or something but I’m into this kind of vibe, just enjoying it without being fully part of it. My family and I will stay here for the two upcoming weeks, and I really prefer to stay here, in this mysterious, greyish-looking place, instead of spending our vacation on an exotic beach, smelling of suncream. That’s not for me. That’s not for Y/n Lovat.

I like the sea, i like walking there at night, when there’s no one else but me and myself, getting lost into quietness and into the sound of the waves. I enjoy being alone and I don’t feel bad for this. Sometimes solitude heals.

Anyway!

I can’t wait to explore the house. My parents have told me some stories…they told me about an alternative world, you can have access in It only through a little door, and it looks like that, that door, is right among these walls. But that world is filled with bad things, they said, and then they just tried to reassure me by specifying that that world wasn’t real; that it isn’t real. They don’t know that i could feel sadder if i actually find out that it is really all fictional…eheh so I must find out if I should be sad or not.

Once I enter in the house, I immediately start to look around, searching for hints when my mother’s voice interrupts me.

‘I know what you’re thinking about. You won’t find it, because, as we said, it doesn’t exist. Got it?’

Sometimes, Mom and her sixth sense scare me. But her words don’t stop me from my investigation. Still, when this topic comes out, in her eyes, I always spot a veil of agitation, like she’s hiding something from me and I’m sure that Dad knows about it. But it doesn’t change my mind at all, I’m the kind of person who needs physical proof to consider something real or fake.

During evening

The right moment came: Mom went to shopping, and the supermarket is quite far from here, Dad is doing a visit to some neighbors, two old women, he told me, so I’m sure that they will keep my Dad enough busy with their chatting, along with tea and cookies. I have the whole house free, for at least two hours. It’s time to get in action. Let’s start upstairs. I look around, searching behind the paintings and analyzing carefully each room. Nothing. I’m walking across the hallway when suddenly I trip onto something. It is a floorboard slightly raised. They told me the house was restructured, still, there’s the risk to get injuries around! I stand up, massaging my hip, the one that hit the ground. While tripping, I removed completely the floorboard and I notice that, in the whole it was covering, there is a small dusty trunk. I take it. It looks like there was a lock or something, but it was already removed. Mh.. strange, but maybe it’s just the metal that got consumed by the humidity.

I open it, curious about knowing its content. There’s.. a doll, with buttons as eyes, it has short, bright blue, hair, pale skin and it’s wearing a…a yellow raincoat, it looks strangely familiar…ù

Mom…

In the living room, there’s this picture. She is with the grands, she was young at the time, and they were posing in front of this house, and she was wearing the same raincoat…

I feel chill along my spine…well, right, mom loves to sew, so, maybe she made this doll backtime. That’s it. Anyway, I decide to keep it in my room, in my closet. I’ll keep searching for the door tomorrow.

After two hours, my parents return home, we have dinner and then straight to bed. I try to fall asleep, however, a continuous sensation of being observed keeps me awake, I turn towards the window and I see a black shape... with two bright yellow eyes...

I jump, wondering what that thing is, when the moonlight illuminates it showing me that there’s no reason to be scared. It is just a cat, a black cat. I try to look at it with more focus, and I spot, next to the cat... the doll...the same doll I locked in my closet, under the pile of clothes I still have to fold.. what is it doing out there??

The cat, suddenly, does a little nod with its head, ‘telling’ me to follow it... and, like the dumbass I am, I decide to listen to my curiosity instead of my common sense, following it.

Silently, I manage to leave the house, but, not so easily, since as soon as I leave the room, I get caught by my mother, I, astutely, tell her that I am only going to get a glass of water, but I also know that she would go to check, as soon as she will see the kitchen light go off, so I simulated my steps and the creaking of a door and then I  ran out; in my bed, when my mother will go to check, there will be bulge under the covers, and she will go to sleep, not caring that what she will see, won’t be her dear sleeping daughter, but just pillows...

I reach the cat, which is waiting for me under the window of my room. It starts running and I keep following it... it takes me to a hill not too far from the house, where there is a water well, very old and probably unused. Next to it, there is a white napkin, which seems to wrap something... the cat looks right at it as if it wants to tell me "Go and see what's there for you", thus, again putting aside my common sense, I check what this napkin wraps.

Some sewing needles... and... a key...

a key... keys open things, right? Like…the trunks.. the padlocks or... THE DOORS! THEN IT EXISTS! IT EXISTS AND I WILL FIND IT!

I return home full of enthusiasm, hoping that the morning will arrive quickly.

The morning

'Are you sure you don't want to come with us? Aren't you afraid of being alone in this new house for more than 2 hours?'

Dad asks, I admit he seems to exude some concern. But, despite this, I nod with confidence, trying to reassure him and my mother, they are going in town to do some duties or stuff like that.

'I'll come next time! Promise!'

I state, to try to speed up the conversation.

'be careful, Y/n'

Mom seems quite strange, she also seems to be a little worried…but oh well, it will be the influx of memories she is receiving, since she spent her childhood here.

As soon as I make sure my parents' car leaves the driveway, I start to find the door…I wish that black cat would help me with this too...

And, as if it had heard me, here it appears, outside the kitchen window, this time. Wow. That’s incredible.

I let him in, and my cat, Ginger, immediately gets on defensive... actually it has never gotten along with cats similar to it, rather it has always preferred dogs... strange, right?

But even stranger is what I’m just seeing, with one look, the black cat managed to make Ginger calm down... I'm starting to think that this cat isn't just any normal stray cat...

I return to reality seeing the feline pass before my eyes, heading towards the dining room and stopping near a white wall..

'Mh... that’s not helping... surely the door I'm looking for can't be th-... what if...'

What if it's behind this wall?

I look better at that marble wall, and, there was a lighter part, compared to the rest... it means that the cement, in that area, was placed later...

But now a big problem arises... how can I remove this layer of concrete in just a few hours?

I try to think of a plan, when I see the black cat scratching on the white patch... pff poor thing, does it think that can scrape off such a hard material? I turn around for an instant, hearing a meow from Ginger, and then I turn towards the wall... and the door pops up out of nowhere, the door I was looking for so much... the concrete has disappeared into thin air, there isn't even any a speck on the ground...

It is as certain as anything that this cat has some supernatural power... I approach the small door, it's small, but if I bend down, I could fit in just fine. I take the key out of the pocket of my skinny jeans and slowly insert it into the door lock.. with the same slowness, I turn it.. until I hear a click..

Oh yes.. here it is.. it's open. Ginger and the black cat keep watching me. I hesitate for a moment... I turn towards the two cats once again, and the black cat has disappeared... probably its daily task is done. I turn towards the door, take a sigh and open it.

..

...

....

Jimin's POV:

The moon this evening seems to shine more than usual, and the apples on this tree seem to have a different red... a bloody red, my favorite color. Their taste, sweet and a little sour, like the lies that a mother tells her child, for his own good.. sweet…and a little sour…I hear a rustling coming from the hedge next to me, and, after a few seconds, my dearest friend comes out from that pile of green leaves…

'My friend, Black, tell me... what brings you here now? I thought you were busy with that favor I asked you a while ago...'

'Don't worry, Jimin, the time…has come. she's coming here, to you…'

A huge smile appears on my face, there are those who would say it's madness, but in reality, all I feel now is pure joy…

'Thank you, my dear friend, I knew I could count on your help.'

I stated, stroking the shiny, black-as-night fur of my dear friend, my only friend. It didn't even have a name... when I found him wandering around these lands, he seemed to know where he was, and yet, he didn't have a destination, he was there, with that proud look... like every being of his kind.

One day, however, I approached him, we talked for a long time, and what I took from that conversation was that, although he always kept his ears pointed and his muzzle high, there was a veil of loneliness in him, just like me... after my dear mother was taken away from me... by the one my friend thought was her friend... that blue-haired witch.

Luckily, I managed to open what were the blue eyes of my furry friend, making him really see who that was... Coraline... and so, in exchange for my friendship, I asked him for a favor...

When I learned of my mother's death, everything I thought about and still thinking about, It’s, actually, I wouldn't even call it revenge.. I just want to settle the score with her…by taking away from her…what she cares about the most.

I look into the garden pond, and I see her reflection, what will lead to Coraline's eternal suffering..

Her dear daughter. Y/n Lovet.

…

…

…

Y/n's Pov:

I can't believe my eyes...so does it really exist? In front of me, stands what appears to be a long distorted tunnel…

I wonder…what's at the end of it.

I start to walk, when suddenly I hear the voices of my parents, intent on taking out of the car the bags full of gifts and souvenirs to bring to the rest of the family…I panic for a moment... I immediately close the door and hide the key in my pocket again.

I look around, hoping to find something that can cover the hole in the wall where the door is, but when I turn towards it, I see that... the layer of concrete has returned to hide it. Maybe I'm going crazy? Until recently, there was only a hole in the wall and not even a bit of dust on the ground, but now everything is back to how it was before...

A small smile of disbelief escapes me at the thought...

I run towards the front door, intent on helping my parents with all the envelopes.

'How are you dear?? You look a bit strange?'

'Have you done anything in our absence?'

My parents continue to observe me... perhaps because I'm still a little shaken by the latest events. But now... I simply think, or rather, I ask myself, why did my parents want to keep that world hidden from me?

Maybe they really don't know anything about it and the fact that it actually exists is just a perfect coincidence.

Pff… I can believe in anything, but coincidences, I really don't.

I spend the day ruminating on what happened this morning... and I just hope that night falls soon so I can finally discover what lies beyond the tunnel.

At dusk, my parents invite me for a walk near the house and, near an apple tree, I see a puddle, which is strange. It has never rained in those days. I look out to observe my reflection, but my face resting on the water, it's almost disturbing... I jump, noticing that instead of my eyes I seem to have... buttons?

I walk away, running towards my parents, scared, to the point of not being able to tell what I saw. Back in the house, I immediately run towards the mirror in my room, and my reflection seems to have returned to normal... it must have been an oversight...

Once night falls, I make sure that my parents are totally immersed in their dreams, and I head towards the wall where the door is located... but here a problem arises... without the black cat... how can I scratch off the cement?

Hmm… maybe if I close my eyes and wish to see the door... okay, it probably won't work, but there's no harm in trying.. I close my eyes, count to 13, open my eyes, and to my surprise, there it is, the little door. I open the door again, and there it is again the dark blue tunnel, I give myself courage and cross it, slowly. I find myself in front of another small door and I slowly move it, not too much... Who knows, there might be something behind it...

I lean forward a little to observe, but what I see leaves me quite disappointed… It is the same room I left from, my living room, there is nothing different...It must have all been a joke, probably.

I enter the room, close the door, and decide to go back to bed, but on my way to the stairs, I spot the black cat outside the window beckoning me to follow him again and so I do.

Following the mysterious feline, I realize that the garden is different from usual... In front of us, then, stands an arch that leads towards a small lake, over which a bridge has been built... I've never seen it...

Around the lake, there are apple trees planted, already ripe, which is strange… I know that apples ripen during autumn, not in summer…

The cat climbs onto the bridge, jumping onto the ledge of this, where, there is a figure, leaning against it, seems a male figure, a long-limbed, elegant male figure...

Will it be a neighbor? At this time of night?

I approach slowly...

“Hello…Y/N, it's nice to meet you.”

I stop walking.

“h-how do you know my name?”

"I'm the son of a dear friend of your parents, it has sense that I know you."

So, he knows my parents... This reassures me. I lean forward to observe him, and when he turns, I am taken aback. He has... Buttons instead of eyes...Out of surprise, I lean on the handrail of the bridge, which however breaks.

I close my eyes to prepare for the impact but, before I end up in the water, I feel something pull me up and hold me. I open my eyes, and I see that face with delicate features, but almost ruined, by those gadgets on his eyes, so close to mine.

Where am I?

Am I really at home?

Regaining my balance, I move slightly...

"I know what you're thinking…These aren't exactly nice to look at, are they?"

She says pointing to the buttons.

I observe him, without responding, confused but also a little struck by compassion…

"don't feel bad, I was born like this…"

My confusion increases. And the boy probably understands this.

"You know you're not in your world right?.. This is very similar to yours but more beautiful.. Don't you think?"

He turns, observing the moon, which shone a slightly more different silver, from our real satellite.. Indeed, looking around, it feels better here.

"It means that my parents knew about this world.."

I think out loud. The boy turns to me and nods.

"Indeed.. But after my mother's death, they denied its existence."

I can hardly believe that my parents have denied this place... Why did they speak so badly about it? Why did they always tell me not to come here?

"but.. now you're here! Right? Will you keep me company for a bit, at least until dawn?"

The boy looks at me, smiling softly.

In the end.. I want to know more about this place, so I nod and smile back.

The boy takes me for a walk in this immense garden, full of flowers and sculptures made with hedges.

There is a certain musicality in the air.

"shall we Dance?"

I laugh

"I don't know how to dance, unfortunately, I would just make a fool of myself"

"it means that I will be the one to teach you"

I've always been a little reluctant when it comes to guys, I've already told you about my concept of loneliness, right?

Yet, with him it's different, he puts his hand around my hip, the one on which I think there is still the bruise from the other day, and his other hand delicately takes mine, we start dancing, I think it's a waltz or something like that. I'm just following his movements, looking into his eyes, or should I say, buttons.

"You like being alone too, don't you?"

I nod, lowering my gaze slightly.

"When you are alone, you feel better, sometimes, you have time to think and to improve yourself"

I keep listening to him in silence, while we keep dancing, I knew that I was not the only one who felt good alone, but it needed me to visit a parallel world to find that someone...

Thinking that I'm not that wrong or that strange makes me smile.

"Now that I think about it, you know my name, but I don't know yours.."

I say, lifting my head slightly.

"My name is Jimin, mi lady."

"Now are you even calling me mi lady?"

I laugh.

"you said you couldn't dance, yet you seem to have always been doing it, you look like a princess, a Lady"

He winks at me.

Generally, I hate this kind of attention, he's shamelessly flirting... And, unlike usual, I like it.

This boy, Jimin, if I'm not mistaken, has something special, it must be that he comes from this world..

We dance almost all night.

The first lights of dawn are already starting to appear...

'I should go.. '

'wait a little longer, please'

I do so, deciding to stay some more time with him, continuing to look at the sun which was now emerging on the horizon.

'Will you come visit me again?'

I spent one of the most beautiful nights of my life, how could I not come back here, I found a person who understands me… A special person. I nod but then I realize that it's really time to go before my parents find me. I immediately run away to where the little door is and I quickly run to my bed, a few minutes later I hear my mother come through the door… I take a sigh, just in time…

Jimin's POV

'she took the bait like a fish on a hook eh eh'

'you're absolutely right, Black… It was easier than I thought, I imagined Coraline's daughter to be tougher'

I say playing with a hair I pulled out of Y/N’s head.

'but she's cute, come on…'

'don't tell me you really meant those things you said to her?'

I turn to Black, nodding.

'it's a shame that she has to end up bad, but for now, I'll have fun with her' I smirk.

Let's see what she is doing now…

I lean towards the pond to see the image of Y/N, she is changing... Which makes me blush a lot…and that doesn’t suit me at all.

I make the image disappear from the pond and start to go back into the house…

'You have taken the color of your beloved apples'

Black tells me, laughing..

'shout up, you silly cat'

Y/N's pov

The days pass, Jimin and I now see each other every single evening, we dance the waltz and then we stop to watch the sunrise. He knows everything about me, and I know everything about him, or almost, sometimes he's so mysterious. He also gave me a pair of needle-shaped earrings. They are original, which is why I like them a lot. I would like to tell my parents about him, but Jimin told me several times not to do so, to avoid a possible "strange" reaction on their part. Maybe seeing Jimin would have reminded them of a dear friend, and this would have saddened them. So we decided to keep this "friendship" in secret, even though I can't understand whether he is really in love with me or not.

One evening

While having dinner with my parents, I notice that something is  bothering them. I look at them with confusion trying to understand what they were thinking. At a certain point, mom turns to me.

'you've been weird for a while..'

My confused expression deepens.

'You know.. We found this in your room..'

My mother shows me the doll I found that week before, before I discovered the door. I try to find an excuse...

'oh.. That? Ah yes, I found it just yesterday, upstairs haha you sewed it, right?'

'Y/N… We burned this doll'

My eyes widen. What do they mean they burned the doll? So.. Who recreated it..

'Those earrings'

I hear my father whisper that phrase, almost scared. I check my earlobes, and I notice that it's true, this time I forgot to remove my earrings..

'Wait.. I can explain-'

''Y/N! I told you not to look for the door!'

'You told me it didn't exist. And then... Even if it existed... What would be wrong with that? You told me so many of those lies, about monstrous creatures, just because they have buttons instead of eyes, what makes you think those creatures are really wrong??'

' Y/N.. Tell me where the door is.'

'never.'

'Right now!'

Mom definitely has no good intentions, I don't understand her, Jimin is so good in the end, he understands me, and I'm sure his mother was like that too..

'You had a friend in that place. And you abandoned her son out of selfishness.'

My parents look shocked.

'Who told you this? Who is this friend-... oh no.. '

Mom leans towards me, probably to assert me. I move away and run towards the door, which is open.  Arrived in the other dimension, I turn and see the small walled-up door..

I turn around to find Jimin right behind me..

'What's going on, princess?'

I hug him. Scared and confused more than ever.

'My parents saw these'

Pointing to the earrings.

I see Jimin's face darken.

'I think I can imagine the rest..'

He almost seems to be... smiling.

At a certain point, she hugs me, squeezing me... I can hardly breathe.

'J-Jimin.. I can't breathe'

'Now.. you are with me, I will protect you..'

Black's pov

I think Jimin's plan is failing miserably.. I saw how he looks at that girl and he didn't seem like he was faking it.. Well, in the end he isn't that different from humans. I lie down on the branch of my favorite tree, but I can't fall asleep, I feel watched.

'Jimin was always wrong'

I turn, noticing Ginger, Y/n's cat.

'Oh then you talk.. I thought you were mute..'

'Nice...come on, let's go save Y/N'

I ignore her, poor naive kitten. She is naive but stubborn to the point that she makes me fall from my beloved branch. Luckily, we cats always land on our paws.

'Girl, have you lost your mind?'

I look at her, sitting proudly on the spot from where I fell.

'And yet you let yourself be deceived by that demon..Jimin is not your friend. He just wants to avenge his mother, the woman who killed three innocent children and who also wanted to kill Y/N's mother. You yourself helped Coraline..'

'Tsk.. yet Coraline left, never thinking of taking me with her.. Jimin instead welcomed me and was always by my side'

Ginger comes down from the tree and stands right in front of me.

'When he kills Y/n, you will no longer exist for him'

The coldness with which she said that sentence made my blood run cold. Yet I almost feel like she's telling the truth. Now that I think about it... Jimin always behaved strangely..I sigh…feeling betrayed for the umpteenth time.

'Let's go save your friend'

Ginger widens her eyes in surprise, but I can see a minimum of joy in those green bulbs. As fast as we can, we arrive in the other world... just in time....

Jimin's Pov

How beautiful. Thanks to Coraline and that owl Wybie, this innocent little fish ended up in my net. I continue to hold Y/n, not too much to kill her.. you know.. I changed the plan.. I want to keep her here with me, forever. She will be my queen, but to become one.. these beautiful eyes will have to be replaced.. I caress the girl's cheeks..

'Do you want to become my queen?..'

I say approaching her..

The moonlight is illuminating us, as if we were under a spotlight.

Y/n's pov

Jimin's proposal appeals to me a lot... I almost feel as if something is hypnotizing me…Something pleasant. I close my eyes, continuing to look at him, to look at those plump, pink and soft lips. I feel his breath approaching my face, and something touch my needle-shaped earring.. But before that distance between us could disappear... something awakens me from that trans-state...

Jimin's Pov

'Let that girl go right now'

Just as I'm about to sew up my princess's eyes, I am interrupted by a rather irritating voice. I turn around, furious, seeing Black....and another cat..

'What's the matter, my friend, have you also met your soulmate and has love just made you crazy? Come on let me do what I have to do..and go for a walk with your kitten..'

'You..kind of profiteering devil'

The two cats are preparing to jump on me..But Y/n shields me.. and the claws of the two cats.. hit her eyes.... I feel the pain, so much so that I feel my heart shatter.

For me... she gave up her beautiful eyes... for me... without even my hypnosis..

'Leave him alone.'

The girl shouts.

'He's innocent, why are you mad at him, all of you, he's alone... and he doesn't deserve it. He is misunderstood, and he just needs someone who understands him...please...get out of here and leave us alone. You two, and my parents...and everyone else.'

After saying this, I see Y/n collapse on the ground, holding her hands over her face, bleeding. The two cats seem mortified , especially the ginger one…it almost seems to cry.. then, at the bottom of the garden, right at the entrance, I hear sobs..

They are Coraline and Wybe.

I don't know how they got in, but it's like I can't move…

I crawl towards Y/n and rest my head on her shoulder while I wrap my arms around her waist...Below us there was now a blur, with the color of the apples from that tree right in front of us.

'Please, Jimin, save her..'

I hear Coraline's voice, broken..

'I'll save her, but she'll have to stay here with me... I'll have to sew her the buttons... it's the only way to keep her alive.'

Coraline and Wybe, through tears, nod..

I was a fool.. I believed from the beginning that they were the bad guys.. and yet.. the sacrifice of Y/n, of my Y/n, and the fact that her parents, after all, asked for help from me.. it makes me understand.. that maybe I did everything wrong in my life.. that I shouldn't have hung on to revenge, that it would have been better to forgive.. and maybe now Y/n would still have her beautiful eyes..

While I'm sewing on her buttons, a tear falls... yes... because under my buttons, I have eyes... it was the one I thought was my mother who sewed them on for me.. as soon as I finish, I take Y/n and hold her to me, still sleeping..

'You will be fine now...sorry, my princess'

I whisper to her.

Then my gaze turns towards her parents and the two cats, destroyed by their mistake.

'She's alive, she's healthy, she'll even be able to see again. But she will have to keep these forever..To apologize...I will create a bigger door in that house, and you can come here to see her whenever you want...in the end, this world is the same as yours. Wherever you go, that door will follow you so that you will always be able to see it.'

The couple looks at me in amazement…I don't blame them at all. I stand up, lifting Y/n bridal style.

'Y/n's right.. you're different'

'Thank you very much and take care of her, always..'

I turn towards them, bowing my head in thanks. In reality, I wasn't that different, it was Y/n, who opened my eyes.

Two days later

Y/n's pov

I wake up from what seemed to be an eternal sleep... I look around, and getting up, I remember what happened...I jump up to look at myself in the mirror and...yes...now I have buttons where my eyes should be.

'I'm sorry, princess. It was the only way to save you'

I turn towards the voice, it was Jimin, behind him were my parents, along with Ginger and Black. I give them a smile.

'Modestly...they suit me'

I laugh and then jump on the boy.

'Am I wrong or before anyone interrupted us, we were doing something very serious'

I say literally closing the door in my parents' faces.

And then I kiss him..

I've wanted to do this for a long time, and it's cooler than I thought. Especially because now I can be with him... in the world that perhaps suits me better.

[sepublic]

            What gets me is that the Federation initially didn’t want to clone Metroids, if their orders for Samus to exterminate all of them on SR388 was any indication; When Samus brought back the Infant, that was against their orders. She must’ve made a case to the Federation, who only then changed their mind.

            Because we know the Metroid breeding program only happened using the Infant’s DNA; The Infant was NOT supposed to survive. At best, maybe the Federation hinged on extracting DNA samples from Samus’ armor after her mission on SR388, if Other M was any indication… But that was written well after Fusion, and anyhow, this hinges on Samus letting the Federation operate on her after a mission, which doesn’t make much sense to me imo. I’m ignoring most of Other M for obvious reasons.

            My point being: I could see this translating better into the original intention by Sakamoto for the Federation to not be a monolith (like many governments), and have some within it, this “Old Federation army,” who wants to exploit Metroids for military and other purposes. The prevailing order was for the Metroids to be wiped out and unused, but others saw their chance when Samus returned with the Infant.

            Maybe the choice to preserve and study it on Ceres came from a similar sentimentality, and a desire not to commit total genocide; And/or others supported it because they were war hawks. It’s hard to say for sure the distinction, and if some even held both ideas in varying degrees.

            I think it’d be worth bringing up during the scene in the Fusion arc where Samus confronts AI Adam over the existence of Sector Zero. Adam tries to get Samus to calm down, and then brings up this only happened because of her sentimentality; If she’d followed orders, none of this would’ve happened. Samus caused this, for the reasons she is seeing now, he argues; She should’ve seen it coming, and embrace the arguments she made. Furthermore, the research of Ceres and Sector Zero was what saved Samus from the X to begin with; And given Metroids are the only way to combat the X (short of just nuking everything), this ended up quite justified.

            Samus does retort that the Federation didn’t know of the X when they cloned the Metroids; That was NOT a motive. And the Space Pirates have been vanquished on Zebes, reduced to roaming cells and gangs. If they haven’t been resolved yet at this point in the timeline, Adam brings up the Kriken Empire, who themselves attempted to capture a Metroid to reverse-engineer for their Biomorph tech; Samus herself participated in preventing this. And who knows what other threats are out there…?

            When Adam insists the Metroid breeding program has non-military purposes as well, Samus sarcastically asks him to list them. He does, without hesitation; The Metroids could be used as a clean energy source, able to extract energy from living beings, and then transfer them into technology. Samus herself was subject to this by the Infant on SR388. Their indestructible, healing nature could be applied for medicinal practices; Indeed, their ability to interact with a mysterious ‘life force’ could also revolutionize healthcare. It could be used to instantly heal injuries otherwise; Or gradually heal the ‘impossible’ ones.

            Samus, unhesitating, says she believes Adam about the Federation using Metroids this way. She also believes they will use Metroids to slaughter all of their enemies. Both of these can be true. And the presence of the latter is why she can’t trust the Federation with Metroids, not after what Sylux had shown her; For a while, Samus saw it was just the exception, the inevitable worst-case scenario behind any system or policy. After all, she believed in mercy, while recognizing that sometimes, mercy could backfire. But on a whole, it was more beneficial and kind than not.

            (Did mercy not lead to this Metroid breeding program? Does Samus feel paradoxical regret; She shouldn’t have destroyed the Metroids, but if she went this far she should’ve seen it all the way through? Then this wouldn’t have happened… Maybe the Infant wouldn’t have suffered as it did if it just died immediately.)

            But now Samus realizes: Sylux was right. The Federation can’t be trusted, not when this one bad scenario could mean the deaths of millions, and doom the galaxy as a whole. Ironically, Samus repeats what the original Adam said, to justify the deaths of the Metroids, to an AI version she doesn’t realize is the same, who is arguing in favor of keeping them alive: This is why we can’t have nice things.

            Adam pauses; Do these words stir something in his databanks? Finally, he continues: It’s out of Samus’ hands anyway, there’s a more immediate threat that the Chozo recognized as such, hence creating Metroids… Etc.

[sotwk]

The Story of Thranduil's Great Losses

My overarching theory about Elvenking’s broken heart is that he actually lost multiple family members over the course of the Third Age, in events borne about by the spawning of evils from Dol Guldur and the resurgence of the orcs in lands close to Mirkwood. 

However, the biggest loss that hit him hardest was that of his beloved wife. Prior to being softened by marriage and fatherhood, Thranduil must have been a bit difficult to get along with. Based on his portrayal in the The Hobbit trilogy, we can picture him as arrogant, cocky, snobbish, stubborn, impatient, hot-tempered, and carrying the emotional and mental damages of war. Remember that he witnessed the Sacking of Doriath, one or potentially two Kinslayings, the War of Wrath, and likely one or two of the great Elven wars in the mid Second Age. (I’m not listing the War of the Last Alliance here because I think he was already married at that point.) Essentially, he was a grumpy, battle-hardened soldier who just wanted to live the rest of his life on Middle-earth in peace and free of care.  

Eventually, he met an elleth who not only saw the goodness and kindness behind these flaws, but helped him temper his demons. She understood and respected his desires but also inspired him to fulfill his potential as a great ruler. With their union, they helped each other grow and under their rule the Woodland Realm flourished and thrived for about a thousand years into the Third Age. 

And then, sometime around TA 1000, the Necromancer (aka Sauron) came to Amon Lanc and set up shop, turning it into the cesspool that is Dol Guldur. Thranduil’s blissful existence began to crumble from then on, slowly but surely.

Almost two thousand years later, he was still working hard to serve his people and sustain his kingdom which was being plagued by the Necromancer’s evils, even after he'd lost the beautiful home he and his wife built together and raised their children in. In his fight against the Enemy, he lost dear friends and even his own children (who, or how many, I will not say, because I have yet to write those stories!). The fact that an estranged Legolas was the one left remaining to him by the events of The Hobbit speaks to the extent of his personal losses. 

After TWO THOUSAND years of enduring this decline, injury, and strife, can you imagine what a blow it was to him when, due to one weak, unguarded moment, Thranduil failed to protect his Queen and she died?

How did it happen? 

Honestly, I am still working out the specifics in order to write a story about it, but in the meantime, I have some notes to share. 

If we choose to subscribe to The Hobbit movie’s claim that the Elvenqueen died in Gundabad, (which I do, loosely, in my own headcanon history for the SOTWK series I am building), a logical time when this might have occurred was in TA 2793 during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs and the Second Sacking of Gundabad. 

My belief is that the Elvenqueen was not a fighter, because her husband was already a renowned warrior who commanded a formidable army, and a more practical and fitting role for her would be that of a healer, ready to tend to her King and sons should they suffer injury. Elves who are healers generally avoid combat, because as Tolkien’s “Laws and Customs of the Eldar” states: “the dealing of death, even when lawful or under necessity, diminished the power of healing” (from “The History of Middle Earth").

Details of about how the Elvenqueen’s death occurred include my following assumptions: (Bear with me, because a few are leaps and stretches of imagination, although still logical in my mind.)

The Elvenqueen was Noldorin and a dwarf-friend, similar to Celebrimbor or Elrond (in Rings of Power). Since dwarves helped build the underground halls as seen in The Hobbit, a congenial relationship must have existed between Thranduil’s house and the dwarves of Durin’s Folk. I believe the Queen was the source of this, being a friend to Thrain I (ancestor of Thorin Oakenshield).

In TA 2770, when Smaug besieged Erebor and turned the Dwarves into nomads, Thranduil refused to give them aid (for reasons I can discuss at a later time--but I have a theory for this too!). At the time, the Elvenqueen was residing elsewhere and was unable to prevent this. 

Twenty years later: Wanting to make up for past mistakes, the Elvenqueen persuaded her reluctant King to send a portion of their army to fight on the Dwarves’ side, arguing that the orcs are also their people’s sworn enemy. (Does the argument sound familiar? Maybe that’s why Thranduil found Tauriel so aggravating!)

The Elvenqueen accompanied Thranduil to the first assembly of the forces, to facilitate the interactions between her hot-headed husband and a still-angry Thrain II (Thorin’s dad). 

After a few battles had been fought and won, Thranduil convinced his wife to return home. She was to be escorted by Elven warriors and taken by a safe route provided by the Dwarves, but due to either betrayal or faulty intelligence, the Elvenqueen was instead ambushed and captured by orcs and taken to Gundabad. 

Learning of this, Thranduil rode to her rescue and engaged the forces of Gundabad in battle. But his efforts were in vain because the Queen had already been slain; the orcs had no intention of returning her and had merely tried to set a trap. All Thranduil found was her lifeless body, and he never had a chance to say goodbye. 

It was Thranduil’s rage that cleansed Gundabad of orcs during that war. (Take his fight scenes in the movies and multiply by the fury of a thousand suns.) However, once this was done, he took his army home, refusing to continue fighting the rest of the six-year war. He blamed the Dwarves’ negligence for his wife’s death, which led to the open hostility between his and Thrain/Thorin’s houses. 

Thranduil’s anger was so well known (and feared), that Dain Ironfoot (who wasn’t even there!) later made the movie claim “he wishes nothing but ill upon my people” and called Thranduil a “faithless woodland sprite”, in reference to him not completing his participation in the war.

At the time of the Elvenqueen’s death, Legolas was already over 2,000 years old, so when Legolas tells Tauriel “there is no memory”, he means a grieving Thranduil likely discouraged any mention of his dead wife in his presence, songs of her are not widely sung, and images/memorials of her are scarce. “There is no grave” could mean that she was perhaps buried somewhere secret, not easily accessible, or not a typical resting place for elves. Thranduil's grief was just too deep to bear this.

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

my mom was talking about a program my childhood church is implementing to help disabled kids be a part of the church more. I was kind of like "cool I'm glad they're acknowledging us but I would never encourage a disabled person to go to that church". They did the typical "well you're being a little too mean" thing. I recounted a memory I had of a girl, Kelly, who had a knee injury that never healed properly. She was on and off crutches, in and out of various procedures, just having a bad time in general. She was very popular and very spiritual so everyone prayed over her and prophesied that she would be healed. It never happened. I remember her standing up without her crutches during a faith healing call at a church event and claiming that she had been healed. She wasn't, she did it because she felt pressured by one of her friends saying that God told him that her knee had been healed and she just needed to believe. She left the event on crutches. Over time all her friends grew distant, the last memory I have of her before she left the church was walking with her and her mom while the rest of the group were far ahead, comforting a girl who had fainted due to the heat. Kelly was on the verge of tears basically asking why all her friends were ignoring her and not treating her with the same care they had when she was first injured. I was the only one who had noticed that she was struggling to keep up, largely because I had faced similar isolation from the group. I was very much an involuntary loner at the time and was barely tolerated because of my social deficits due to autism. I'm not surprised she left, I eventually did as well after the youth pastor started singling me out to make fun of me for being closed off.

After I told that story we got onto the topic of faith healing and how it's misused to place blame on disabled people for our disabilities. They agreed that sometimes the timing isn't right, and sometimes people never get healed. Then my dad decided to drop this excellent talking point (/s):

"yeah, some disabled people are supposed to go on to be inspirations to others."

I tried to explain that that's rude and demeaning, but he insisted I was wrong. Doesn't matter that I've experienced this and know it makes you feel like shit and he hasn't, I just don't know what I'm talking about I guess /s. It then turned into a conversation about how I'm too sensitive and make everything negative even though the concept of inspiration porn and not treating disabled people like feel-good producers instead of people is dehumanizing have existed since long before I developed a physical disability. The conversation ended with me basically telling him that he didn't have enough knowledge on disability justice to have an opinion on the matter and him going silent and being all grumpy because he hates not being the smartest person in the room. I just fucking hate my family sometimes.

[tarnishedxknight]

OC Muse: Soryn Vedrai

[Bio and other information below the cut!]

Type of Character & Fandom/Source Material: OC muse, Soryn (SOAR-in veh-DRY), from the FFXII fandom.

Full Name: Soryn Vedrai

FC: William Tyler

Alignment: Lawful Good with Neutral Good tendencies

Race: Hume (human)

Age: Anywhere from early to late 30s, usually, depending on verse. Early 40s for the Fortress verse. For context with some other FFXII characters, from the time of the prologue all the way through to the epilogue of the game, Soryn is between ages 30-33, Ashelia is 17-20, Basch is 34-37, and Vossler is 37-39 (only because he died before the end of the game, otherwise he would've reached 40, heh).

Gender: Male

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Heterosexual/hetero-romantic

Family: Parents (deceased); older brother (deceased); younger sister (deceased)

Occupation: Soldier; Knight of the Order of Dalmasca (verse-dependent); Judge Magister of the Archadian Empire (verse-dependent); Avenger (verse-dependent)

Potentially Triggering Material in Threads: war; PTSD; nightmares; violence; injury; death; manipulation; assassination; politics

Positive Personality Traits: He's kind, chivalrous, respectful, polite, helpful, brave, and hard-working. He's great with kids, has a great sense of humor, loves animals... Okay why is this sounding like a bad dating profile? XD

Negative Personality Traits: He is a bit emotionally closed-off sometimes, so he can unintentionally seem cold or distant. He can become quickly frustrated by people who refuse to help themselves and would rather wallow in their own self-pity. Hmm... I'm actually struggling to think of negative traits, he's a very decent guy, heh. I'll add more as I develop him, I guess.

BACKGROUND: (This is loooong, I know, heh, but I felt it was important to be as detailed as possible here. Soryn fills a very precarious social, political, and emotional role in the story. His existence has the potential to change canon completely in several ways, and so to make him realistic to the world and to integrate him as seamlessly as possible into the plot, I needed to really explain his mindset, the role he fills, and how he came to be in that position. Otherwise it just seems like I'm ramming him in there without any basis for him doing what he does or for the other characters to entertain the notion of working with him in any way. You don't have to read all of this if you don't want to, but it's here for anyone who wants to understand him a little better and to get a sense of the unique role he plays in the story. This also may change a little bit or become more detailed over time as I develop him, since he is a very new OC.)

Soryn grew up the middle child of the noble Dalmascan House of Vedrai. His father and grandfather were members of the Order of the Knights of Dalmasca, and Soryn followed in their footsteps. His older brother became a soldier as well, fighting with the Dalmascan chocobo-mounted cavalry. His younger sister, talented with minor magicks, was a potion crafter.

His childhood was a privileged one, to be sure. House Vedrai had more wealth than they knew what to do with, and anything he or his brother wanted to do was supported by their father. Unfortunately, the patriarchal nature of the Crown of Dalmasca trickled down into the noble Houses, and Soryn’s little sister was somewhat stifled and sheltered, prevented from following many of her dreams. Although she was permitted to work, it was heavily implied that her duty was to marry and have children. Unfortunately, she never got the chance.

Soryn lost his sister to the plague that ravaged Rabanastre. Despite their wealth and access to healing and potions, she chose to live among and take care of the poor in Lowtown when the plague spread out of control, and as a result, she fell ill and died, far removed from her family’s privilege that might have saved her. After her death, Soryn’s mother fell into a deep depression from which she never recovered. His father believed she died of a broken heart.

After losing his mother and sister, Soryn then lost his father and brother to war. His brother, already a soldier, fell in battle against Archadian forces, fighting alongside Nabradian soldiers. His father, who had been retired from knighthood due to age, felt compelled to come back out of retirement because the need for soldiers in Dalmasca was great. Unfortunately, his age played a role in his demise, and he was also struck down in battle. As the last surviving member of his House, Soryn still strove to uphold the code of morality, honor, and bravery that the Order stood for, as he'd been attempting to do since he first joined the military...

Soryn joined the Dalmascan military when he came of age at sixteen. He started out as a humble city guard in Rabanastre, and worked his way into the palace, joining the Royal Guard. He’d always had knighthood in his sights, not only because it was something of a legacy for Vedrai men to become knights, but also because he believed in the code and in conducting himself with honor and kindness. That’s the person he wanted to be, and with a mentor like Ser Coren Merek, the Knight Captain at the time, and friends like Basch, he had good examples to follow and live up to.

Soryn respected Ser Merek greatly, and when the old knight retired, Soryn then supported his appointed replacement, Basch. He had a great deal of respect for Basch as well, and the two became friends, but because Soryn spent far more of his time at the battlefronts, encampments, and forts of the war rather than in Rabanastre, he unfortunately didn’t have a lot of chances to interact much with Basch. Basch did regularly visit battlefronts and fight in pivotal battles, but he also had many duties at home in Dalmasca that kept him and Soryn apart. Nevertheless, Basch was Soryn's captain, and whenever the two men were around each other, they got along well.

To some extent, Knights of the Order went where their king, or at the very least, their captain, ordered them to. But they were given some freedom to request certain types of work over others. Soryn chose to remain at battlefronts and semi-permanent war encampments instead of remaining in Rabanastre because the city, as much as he loved it, came to remind him of all the family members he’d lost, and of a courtship when he was in his twenties that didn’t work out. He’d fallen in love with a woman who ultimately chose another over him, and he was very brokenhearted about that. So overall, Rabanstre became a bit of a painful place for him, so he preferred to be elsewhere.

Not that battlefronts were great places to be, but he had purpose and camaraderie there, and supporting younger soldiers and being that beacon of authority, hope, and morale for them was something that made him feel good. It was one thing for a battalion of soldiers to have a general with them or commanding officers, but the Knights of the Order carried with them a certain honor and positively-charged morale that uplifted the ranks. So Soryn didn’t mind being the one to charge out in front and gave the soldiers at his back that bit of courage they needed to push on with him. In fact, it was something he loved to be to them, because he knew how hard war can be, and how hard it could be to keep hope alive in battle.

As far as his fellow knights were concerned, Soryn… tolerated Vossler. Their fathers were not friends, by any means, but they were on good working terms. And Soryn’s father was well aware of how close Vossler’s father was to King Raminas. House Vedrai, while in good standing with the Crown, was not specially favored by it as was House Azelas. For this reason, House Vedrai attempted to maintain a good relationship with House Azelas so as not to earn the ire of the king. Having said that, Soryn thought Vossler made for an embarrassing and shameful knight. He thought he devalued the rest of the Order and the significance of the Code of Conduct by thinking himself better than the poor and middle class, treating and speaking of the poor disrespectfully, treating women with disrespect, and frequently running his mouth at Basch and others whom he ought to have respected as well. But Soryn was in no position to diplomatically comment on Vossler’s conduct, save for offering his opinion any time Ser Merek or Basch asked for it.

Soryn loved Dalmasca with all his heart, but he did see that it had problems. Their aging king was clinging to traditions and ideologies that were antiquated, misogynistic, and isolationist. Although not as bad on any of these points as the King of Nabradia, King Raminas was an immoveable icon of the past who refused to bend and resisted change to an unwise degree, Soryn thought. Nepotism, corruption, laziness, and conflicts of interest were also rampant among the ranks, from Raminas favoring Vossler as the son of his friend, to the aging war generals being happy to let men like Basch and Soryn do their work for them while they remained in Rabanastre and coddled the king, and finally Dalmasca being increasingly beholden to Nabradia’s rigid king due to Princess Ashe’s betrothal to Prince Rasler. The way in which both countries and kings were holding fast to ways of life that just didn’t work anymore, that ought to be left in the past, compounded the danger and political precariousness of their positions in the war between the Archadian and Rozarrian Empires.

With regard to his stance on the war, Soryn falls somewhere in between Vossler and Basch’s sentiments. Vossler, believing himself the only one who knew how to properly save Dalmasca from obliteration with nethicite, thought surrendering to Archadia was the answer. Not only would they not use nethicite to destroy Rabanastre as they have Landis and Nabudis in the past, but they would actively protect Dalmasca from hostile outside forces (like Rozarria, for example) because it would no longer be a sovereign kingdom, but a protectorate of the Archadian Empire.

Basch, however, believed that Dalmasca had a right to its sovereignty and that it is worth fighting for, but that such fighting needed to be done prudently and wisely. There was a threat from Vayne regarding the use of nethicite and danger of Dalmasca and the entire peninsula becoming a battleground for the two raging Archadian and Rozarrian Empires. Dalmasca should remain its own kingdom if it wants, but that should not be at the expense of innocent lives or done too hastily or foolishly.

Soryn’s beliefs lay in the middle of these two mindsets, and this is where his life takes a totally drastic and unexpected turn. He believes that sovereignty and autonomy for Dalmasca is possible, but the road will be long, tricky, and absolutely must include compromise and change. Surrendering to the Archadian Empire and to Vayne only puts a temporary bandage on an actively hemorrhaging wound, he feels. Continuing to ally with Nabradia only digs Dalmasca’s heels deeper into their own flawed traditions and culture which needs to be updated and brought into the future. Nabradia will keep Dalmasca stagnant and unchanging when it actually needs to evolve to survive. And continuing to fight for Dalmascan sovereignty while standing alone in the world is foolish for a small, geographically vulnerable kingdom that is completely outnumbered in military, outmatched in ground weaponry and strategy, and outcompeted in airship combat.

The key to Dalmasca’s future and survival, Soryn thought, would hinge upon its ability to negotiate and work with one of the warring empires. Remaining neutral and clinging to old traditions would be Dalmasca's undoing, and Nabradia’s king being killed and their capital being destroyed by nethicite was only confirmation of this in Soryn’s mind. Since Archadia was at Dalmasca’s borders already and Rozarria decidedly had far less of a foothold within the peninsula, especially after the fall of Nabradia, Soryn believed Dalmasca’s only chance was to negotiate with Archadia.

But it’s not as simple as all that. The Archadian government was not a monolith with a single mindset for how the war should procede. Emperor Gramis’ two eldest sons had already been executed for attempting to overthrow their father, and whispers had it that Vayne was poised to attempt the same. The split within House Solidor was clear, but so too was the in-fighting among the Judge Magisters, the Archadian equivalent (at least in military rank, if not real power) of the Order of the Knights of Dalmasca. Some of the Judge Magisters supported Vayne, some supported Emperor Gramis, and still others wanted to obtain the throne for themselves (via the supposed elections that actually chose Archadia’s emperors).

These factions threatened to destabilize the Empire and to result in Vayne becoming emperor himself someday, through nefarious means. If that happened, the power-hungry despot would certainly use nethicite more often. All of Ivalice could fall if that were permitted. So not only was Dalmasca’s future at stake, but all of Ivalice’s was as well, Soryn thought, if the Archadian Empire were to fall into chaos. The answer, then, was not only to negotiate with Archadia, but to negotiate specifically with those factions that opposed a continuance of the war and placing Vayne in power. That meant negotiating with Emperor Gramis and Judge Magisters like Gabranth and Drace who supported him and opposed Vayne.

Soryn had these ideas but lacked the power and opportunity to act on them. He also felt he ought to defer to his king on what should be done, not strike out alone. Knights served kings and queens, they did not rule. But when he was gravely wounded at the Battle of Nalbina Fortress (the very same in which the rest of the Order fell except for Basch and Vossler, and Prince Rasler fell as well), he was captured by Archadian forces and held in the dungeon imperial forces took over underneath the fortress. He was interrogated for information by Judge Magister Gabranth, and from there… everything changed.

The rest of Soryn’s timeline is very fluid because it breaks from canon entirely and may result in the changing of other major events in the game, such as Raminas’ assassination, Ashe going into hiding, Basch’s conviction and imprisonment, Gramis’ assassination, and Drace’s execution. So I’m going to leave it somewhat open as to which of those events and others might still happen or not based on the timing of rp threads and what their specific plots might be. Before this point, Soryn kindof fits into canon and can just be in the background of it all, easily added here and there. But after this point, he has the power to change many things.

(Side note: Soryn's interrogations had barely begun before the plan to assassinate King Raminas and frame Basch for it was already set into motion, although... there may be room for an AU in which Gabranth pushes back against Vayne on the plan because he's getting information from Soryn that could change the whole game, and if that point Vayne decides to go ahead with it himself, say with Vossler as the assassin instead, then that potentially changes Basch's fate. Also, Soryn would be more willing to work with Gabranth if he didn't, you know, murder his king, heh. But the details of this usually won't come up in threads, I don't think, and if they do and it matters, we can always discuss how things went down beforehand. There are just a lot of options here because of how Soryn has the potential to change a lot of things early on in the story.)

Over the course of interrogating Soryn, Gabranth comes to feel that he could potentially be a great asset to the empire. More so than Vossler, who increasingly was becoming unpredictable and self-serving in his actions (such as wanting Ashelia for himself, and shifting his allegiance from Vayne to Judge Ghis when it suited him). Although Gabranth thought that blind honor was foolish, Soryn’s honor was not blind. He wasn’t a white knight who stuck to his code even when it was foolish to do so. Although Soryn believes in honor, he also has a very realistic view of the world, and although he wanted Dalmsacan sovereignty, it was an unselfish desire and one that he was willing to approach intelligently and with compromise. Soryn’s Lawful alignment made it possible for real conversations to happen between him and Gabranth, and eventually between him and Emperor Gramis that resulted in an exchange of information and plans for advancement of both Dalmasca’s and Archadia’s mutual interests in stabilizing Ivalice and ending the war.

Over the course of two years, Soryn built mutual respect and trust with Emperor Gramis and Judge Magisters Gabranth and Drace. The information he was able to provide to them aided them greatly in not only protecting Dalmasca for their own interests, but heading Vayne off at several points in his own plans. Emperor Gramis eventually made the decision to name Soryn a Judge Magister, formally and publicly showing his trust in him, but also tipping the scales in his favor as far as how many Judge Magisters supported him over Vayne or their own personal interests.

There was little need for him to rise through the ranks to prove himself militarily, since he’d already done so as a knight. Although he had less power as a knight of a very small kingdom, his military skill both in strategy and fighting ability was undeniable. He was also skilled at both piloting and captaining airships of different types. All he needed was training regarding how to be an actual legal judge and how to run a Bureau. He was well-acquainted with Dalmascan law, however, and so handling legal matters pertaining to the small kingdom were not as much of a leap for him as they might have been for an Archadian. Because of all this, and the dire need for Dalmasca to be handled properly in the greater context of the war, Gramis decided that giving Soryn a position of power (albeit under close surveillance) was more beneficial than it was a liability. Judges Gabranth, Drace, and Zargabaath supported his appointment, while Ghis and Bergan thought it absolutely absurd and made their dissent known.

Nevertheless, despite dissent from the two Judge Magisters and Vayne as well, Soryn became Judge Magister Vedrai, and his Bureau, an additional fourteenth, was to be in charge of Dalmascan affairs. However, this was done with the understanding that, at least until the war could be definitively ended, Soryn would work closely with Gramis, Gabranth, and whoever else necessary regarding all major decisions involving Dalmasca. Dalmasca would be a protectorate of Archadia until such time as the war could be ended. Then, sovereignty would be considered provided certain stipulations were met by the throne of Dalmasca.

This decision to name him a Judge Magister did not happen overnight. It took nearly all of the two years between the prologue and Soryn's capture and the main events of the game for Soryn and Gramis/Gabranth to build trust with each other, and for there to be a mutually beneficial relationship decided upon. If Soryn was serious about working with the empire, then he would be willing to work for the empire, so Soryn's willingness to become a legitimate member of Archadian society and of the Imperial Army to see everything through to its end was a major sign of trust to Gramis. It showed that he was truly negotiating with Archadia in good faith that he would give up his knighthood in Dalmasca to fill a role that would ultimately change the kingdom and drive the direction of the war towards a more peaceful conclusion.

Soryn agreed to these terms, and for his part, he wanted assurance that Dalmasca’s throne and autonomy would be restored once the war was ended. Although it was too late to save King Raminas, he made it very clear that any plans involving the assassination of Princess Ashelia would not be supported by him in the slightest. In fact, if he found that such plans were in motion, he would no longer lend his support to the empire. Gramis agreed to Soryn’s terms, and a solid agreement was made between them.

An additional negotiation was that Soryn become consul of Dalmasca. Soryn knew this would put him at odds with Vayne, but the Archadians could and would not proceed with negotiations and protecting Dalmasca from Rozarria and even Vayne without assurance that someone they appointed would be in charge, and Gramis did not want Vayne to be that person. This was part of Soryn's duties, to balance the greater needs of the Archadian Empire and all of Ivalice with those of Dalmasca. Placing someone with interests in both the survival of the empire and Dalmasca in charge of the smaller kingdom ensured a better outcome than permitting it to remain Vayne's pet project.

When Ashelia resurfaces after being in hiding and thought dead, both she and Basch think Soryn has completely defected to Archadia, and Vossler sees him as a wrench in his own plans for what his own ambitions dictate. Gramis encourages Soryn to bargain with Ashe, and Soryn promises her the throne of Dalmasca if she agrees to some terms. She takes a while to come around to these negotiations, because she doesn't want Dalmasca to be a protectorate of Archadia, but Soryn tries to instill in her that this is necessary, at least for the time being.

Firstly, he argues, showing Archadia they are acting in good faith with the empire is of paramount importance to building trust. Second, it could derail some of Vayne's plans to have power over Dalmasca placed in Soryn's hands, and by proxy, Ashelia's. Thirdly, it would show Archadia and the rest of Ivalice that they are serious about wanting to stabilize Ivalice and end the war, and that peace for all is a goal to which the throne of Dalmasca subscribes. And lastly, under formal Archadian ownership, Dalmascan skies would be patrolled and protected from becoming a battleground. Dalmasca would be considered Archadian territory, and therefore Archadia would be less inclined to fight things out with Rozarrian in Dalmascan skies, because they would want to protect their own interests.

After hearing Soryn's surprisingly pragmatic, non-selfish, and peace-driven arguments, Basch encourages Ashelia to agree, but she's hesitant. She doesn't believe the "surrender" will truly be temporary or in Dalmasca's best interest. From here, the plot could go a number of ways depends on your muse and what path you want a thread to take. Ashelia could agree or not agree to work with Soryn or the Empire, and Larsa could get involved to help this process one way or another.

One thing Soryn would definitely do, though, is to pitch to Gramis that Ashelia be named heir to the Dalmascan throne. Soryn would push for Ashelia to eventually be fully recognized as Queen of Dalmasca. This is not only something he thinks should have been her birthright from the start, but it's part of moving Dalmasca into the future and beginning to change some of the traditions and laws that are holding the kingdom back. The sexism, the lack of female heirs and queens, and forbidding women to join the military are things Soryn things need to be eradicated/overturned if Dalmasca is going to survive as a healthy kingdom. In doing that, they ensure that a sustained and beneficial relationship between Dalmasca and the Archadian Empire could be achieved following the end of the war.

Fun Facts & Other Notes:

Obviously Soryn has the potential to change much of canon with the path his life takes, but all of these changes don't necessarily need to occur or have already occurred in threads. He could start along this path but not succeed. He could become a Judge Magister but be hampered by those who oppose him. Or maybe he stays imprisoned longer if his interrogation doesn't go well or Gabranth isn't impressed enough to bring the matter to Gramis. So the path he takes through canon can be malleable in rp threads to some extent. My goal with him is to explore these different options and possibilities that a character with his mindset brings to the story, so I am definitely up for AUs of all kinds!

The middle picture in the header of a rather elaborate suit of armor is the closest example to what I'd like his Judge Magister's armor to look like. Each Judge Magister's armor is unique and somehow personal to them in style and/or design. Being Dalmascan by blood and with his Bureau dealing with Dalmascan political matters, Soryn's armor reflects that he was once a knight of a desert kingdom. It has gold trim and accents and there are design elements of the helm, spaulders, and arms that look like radiating sun rays. I'm not sure the design in that picture is the exact one I want, but it's the best inspiration I have at the moment.

Soryn is actually a very sensitive person, but that isn't always apparent. He can come across as aloof, but this is a consequence of the compartmentalization he's had to engage in, separating his personal life from that of a soldier. He's very good at setting aside emotions for later, pushing through things like pain, fear, and panic, and being supportive of others even when he himself is not okay. But that means he then sometimes has trouble tapping into and fully engaging with his own emotions because he's so used to shelving them for later. Sometimes later never comes and he just keeps bottling, which isn't always healthy.

Having said that, Soryn's mental health is probably among the best of all my muses on this blog, heh. He's... a pretty solid guy. I'm not saying he's never been traumatized by anything, certainly being a soldier for as long as he has doesn't come without its mental scars, but he's never been tortured, abused, oppressed, etc. like some other characters on this blog have been. Even when he is imprisoned, because he was far more cooperative than Basch, he was not held for nearly as long.

The biggest and most notable thing he wrestles with is PTSD, and for a very specific reason. Soryn was present at the fall of Nabudis, the capital of Nabradia that was obliterated by nethicite. So he saw firsthand the devastation and suffering and just total chaos of what a catastrophic detonation of the power contained within a piece of nethicite can inflict on a city and population. It really both terrified and upset him. After that, there was a marked reduction in morale among both Nabradian and Dalmascan forces that hit him hard, because it felt to them like they were up against impossible odds and clearly losing. Soryn had some heart-to-heart conversations with Basch about it in the days to follow, with Basch bringing his own experiences from Landis and Soryn discussing what he'd seen in Nabudis.

It was the above experience that became the crux of Soryn's motivation to unify Ivalice and end the war for everyone, not only Dalmasca. Seeing how quickly the use of nethicite can escalate, especially when in the wrong hands or ordered by power-hungry despots, changed him as a person forever.

Potential Starter Ideas:

During the "prologue" part of the timeline, Soryn is a Knight of Dalmasca, so your muse could meet him in Rabanastre, the royal palace, or out at a battlefront. Maybe your muse lives in Rabanstre, or maybe they would be helping the war effort at an encampment near a battlefront.

Between the prologue and the main game, Soryn will be wounded at the Battle of Nalbina Fortress and captured by Archadia. Maybe your muse helped capture him, or they're in the dungeon with him, Maybe they visit him in prison, curious about him. Maybe they help him escape, or put in a good word about him to Emperor Gramis or the Judge Magisters.

During the events of the main game, Soryn can be pretty much anywhere on the Ivalician map, doing anything, as a Judge Magister of Archadia. So depending on who your muse is, things are wide open as to where they could meet him and why. I'm open to plotting in messages to help figure some things out before we start.

During the "epilogue" portion of the game, Soryn could be helping Basch to fill Gabranth's shoes in Archadia, or maybe Basch went back to Dalmasca with Ashelia in this AU, and it's Soryn who stays with Larsa to make sure he's protected. Regardless, if you muse lives in Archadia, especially within the palace, they could interact with him there. OR... Basch could stay in Archadia to impersonate Gabranth and Soryn could be the one to return to Dalmasca and assist Ashelia. Your muse could go with him from Archadia to help further, or if they already live in Dalmasca, could encounter him there.

He'll have an MCU verse, so... you guys are familiar with that by now, heh. Same deal, either a magical mishap or a mischievous Occuria brought him to present day. He would be cleared for field work fairly quickly, so he'd be going on missions and all that.

[xaphrin]

Smutober 02/10/22

RobRae/DickRae/NightRae

- - -

Raven heaved an exasperated sigh as Dick stood in front of her, looking like a soggy dog that had been kicked by its owner. The rain soaked him, spilling down over his usually windswept  hair and into his eyes. A bruise was forming under his right eye, and there was a gnarly gash that curled along his upper left arm. 

She shouldn’t let him in. She shouldn’t let him in. And yet she knew she was going to let him in. She knew that she would open her space for him again, and help him with whatever he needed. 

Why?

Because she was a sucker, and because it’s what she always did. In all their years together as teammates and friends, Raven couldn’t ever say no to him. She would always bend to his every whim - sometimes it really, really sucked being in love with someone who didn’t know how to acknowledge your existence beyond friendship.  

She gave him a flat stare and leaned her shoulder up against the window frame. “You know, when I moved to Bludhaven, it wasn’t to be your personal doctor.”

He gave her a cocky smile. “It was because you missed me.”

It was because she missed him, but she would never admit that out loud to him.  

“Come in. Let’s patch you up again.” Raven pushed open the fire escape window wider, and settled back on her heels as he climbed into her bedroom. “I swear. You have the absolute worst timing. You’ve always had the worst timing.” 

Dick looked around the room as he settled on the edge of her bed, waiting for her help. A little black dress was hanging on the back of her door, paired with sky-high heels. He blinked after staring at it for a long moment, and looked back at Raven. “Sorry. Were you going out?”

“Not anymore.” She picked up her phone and sent out a text, letting her date know she had to cancel. 

Raven had been determined to go out and try to have fun, or at least get laid so that she could be distracted from her feelings for Dick. But, he always had impeccable timing, and she would give him the world if he asked for it. So, rather than tell him no, she canceled her date. And now she was stuck at home healing her best friend, who had no idea that she had feelings for him. 

“Sorry.” He at least had the decency to look a little sheepish. “You know… you can tell me no sometimes.” 

“I could, but you know I won’t.” She grabbed the well-used first aid kit from under her bed and motioned to his uniform. “Get out of that so I can see what kind of damage we have to deal with.” 

Dick shrugged out of the skin-tight fabric and peeled the top half down so it pooled around his waist. Color flooded her face, and Raven felt her heart skip beats at the sight of him. It didn’t matter how many times he got naked in front of her, or how much of his skin she had seen before, it felt new and surprising every time. Her eyes slid down the curves and planes of his body, taking in the sight of his lithe form like she needed to burn it into her memory for the hundredth time. 

He smirked and tilted his face up to hers. “If you want a picture, I’m sure I can make arrangements.”

“Shut up.” Ignoring his teasing laugh, Raven grabbed the alcohol and cleaned the wound on his arm, as well as a few bloody knuckles. He winced at the burn against his skin, but Raven felt no remorse. “You really should be more careful when you go out on patrol, Dick. I swear your injuries get worse every time I see you.”

“You should see the other guy. This is being careful.” 

“Seeing me practically every other day is not careful. It’s careless.” Raven fell into a rhythmic pattern, cleaning and inspecting every injury to be sure that it was safe to use magic on. After she had determined that the wounds were sufficiently cleaned, Raven lifted her hand and used her magic to speed along the healing process. “I just don’t like seeing you get hurt so often. What happens when you get an injury I can’t fix with magic?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning his head into her hand when her thumb brushed over the bruise under his eye, filling the injury with healing magic. “Until then, I know I can trust you to put me back together when I stumble and break.” 

“You take advantage of my kindness, you know.” Her voice held a sharp edge, and she frowned. “I’m more than just the person you run to when shit hits the fan.”

A shade of remorse filled his eyes, and Dick glanced away. The air grew tense between them, and Raven tried not to feel worried that she may have broken a delicate bond with her careless words. Her emotions were just so damn tangled that it felt nearly impossible to try and understand exactly what this was between them - if it really was anything different than friendship. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking over at the little black dress still hanging on the back of the door. “So… where did you meet your date? At work?”

She ignored the note of caution in his question. “How do you know it was a date? Maybe I was just going to go out to a bar for drinks.”

“You picked out a whole outfit and hung it up. You want to see how it all looks together, meaning that you’re interested in what this person thinks about you.” He shrugged. “Ergo, a date.”

She really hated it when he pulled out all the detective shit on her. Especially when it came to her personal life. “I met them online.” Raven’s expression turned suspicious. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” He paused and shook his head, as if he was coming to terms with something about himself. “Actually, that’s a lie. I do care. A lot.” 

Raven put away her supplies and looked over at him. “Why?”

“Raven.” His voice held a note of exasperation, obviously exhausted by holding something inside for so long. “Why do you think it’s you that I come to see? I could go to literally anyone else, but you’re the one I come to see when I’m injured. You’re the one I call, just to check in. You’re the one that gets dumb memes when I’m stuck on a stake out. You’re the one I think about all the damn time. Because, when I get hurt, the first thing I think about is: what is Raven going to think? Is she going to worry? I don’t want her to worry.”

“Dick…” Raven blinked, heat climbing up her cheeks. What in the world was he saying? Did he… 

He fell back on her bed and threw a hand over his face. “I can’t believe it took me seven damn years to say this out loud. Raven, I love you. I have loved you since I met you, and… I don’t think I will ever stop loving you.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know you have so many other things going on in your life, and I’ve tried to give you space to figure it all out, but… I can’t anymore. I need to tell you.”

Raven felt every muscle in her body tightened with a rush of emotions before the tension released with a rush of breath. He loved her. Loved her. He had been trying to give her space because he thought that was what she wanted. Raven felt like her feet had been kicked out from under her, and she was toppling end-over-end into oblivion. 

She stuttered, trying to find the right words to say, but could only utter a helpless: “What?”

“I know you probably-”

“Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.” Raven launched herself onto the bed, straddling his hips and prying his arms away from his face. She slammed his wrists on either side of his head and threw her weight against his stomach, pinning him to the bed. 

Her eyes glowed dark with the unrestrained force of her magic, and she gnashed her teeth at him. “You don’t get to sit here and say ‘you probably don’t feel the same way’. I’ve been in love with you for years. I came to Bludhaven because of you. I let you into every facet of my life because I love you. You’re an absolute idiot if you can’t see how desperately and irrevocably I’m in love with you. So, you don’t get to lay here and act like you’re in some kind of agony, when I was right here waiting for you.”

Dick grabbed her waist and rolled her onto her back with ease, utilizing every martial art skill to subdue her. “You don’t get to act like I knew, Raven! I’m not a mind reader, and you’re so secretive and careful with your emotions.” He leaned forward, pressing his nose against hers. “How in the hell was I supposed to know? You treat all your friends the same way, and I thought you only cared about me as a friend.”

Raven opened her mouth to snap at him, but… he was right. Of course he was right. She may have been in love with him, but she had been so careful about hiding her true feelings that she had never given Dick any indication that she loved him. With a muttered curse, she closed her mouth and glared up at him. “I hate it when you’re right.”  

He laughed and leaned over her, pressing his hips down against her own. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

She was going to do so much more. After all, she had seven years to make up for.  

Raven waited with bated breath as she felt Dick’s full, soft lips slide against her mouth. She could smell his aftershave mingling with his sweat, and a shiver ran down her spine. The kiss was tentative and cautious, and not at all what she wanted. At least not right now. She wasn’t going to run away, and he shouldn’t be afraid of her running away either. Not after their absolutely ridiculous confessions. 

“Kiss me like you mean it, Dick Grayson.” She reached up and threaded her fingers through the damp strands of hair on the back of his neck. “Or I swear, I will make your life a living hell.”

He blinked, obviously surprised by the way she spoke to him. A moment passed between them, and with a lopsided grin, Dick kissed her again. And this time he meant it. His mouth practically ravaged her. Kiss after kiss after kiss, drawing Raven into his body as if she was the only thing keeping him alive. His kisses burned straight through to her soul, and Raven felt her body go limp as he drowned her with the force of his emotions. 

Fuck. She was not prepared. 

Raven moaned against his mouth, and her fingers tightened in his hair as she hooked one leg up over his hip, pushing her body against his. In a matter of minutes, he had stripped her of every protection she tried to hold onto, and set her body on fire. She was hot and needy and desperate - things she never thought she would use to describe herself. Her moans turned to pleading whimpers, and she tipped her head back, offering her neck with a sigh. 

Dick’s mouth moved down her neck, nipping and biting at the soft flesh, leaving marks as he kissed down her body. Raven’s hands scrambled at the rest of his uniform, pushing the fabric off his trim hips and forcing it down onto the floor. Her hand smoothed over his skin, and she felt a laugh bubble up into her throat. 

Dick lifted his head from her collar bone, eyebrow knitting together. “What?”

“Only you would go commando.” Raven reached down and grabbed a handful of tight, bare ass with a smirk. “Not that I’m complaining.”

He gave her a deadpan look. “Get out of your damn clothes, Raven. I am going to fuck you so hard into this mattress, you forget about your online booty call.” 

“That better be a promise, Dick.” She was already shimmying out of her leggings as he yanked her tank top up over her head. They were both eager, and there was nothing that could keep them apart now. “Or I am going to be very disappointed.” 

Without warning, Dick pushed her legs apart, and dipped his head between her thighs. Her witty retort died on her lips, and Raven fell back on the bed. Dear god. It wasn’t fair that he was handsome, clever, funny, had an ass for days, and good at head. 

Raven’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Dick wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it as he speared two fingers inside her with sharp, measured thrusts. It felt like it was only seconds before she was trembling, shivering as sweat spilled from her skin. She was racing towards her orgasm at break-neck speed, and she ground her hips tight against his mouth, demanding more. Yes, she was greedy, but right now, she didn’t care. He was giving her everything she wanted, and she wasn’t going to turn down a gift like this.

She gasped as his tongue spelled his name in double time, as if he was branding her for him and him alone. A high-pitched whine escaped, and Raven grabbed his head, feeling sparks start to dance along her skin. She pinned his mouth to her body, feeling her orgasm burn like hellfire in the pit of her stomach and the world nearly went dark around her.

“Dick…”

With a teasing sound, he worked harder at her, as if knowing he was about to destroy her. Raven held her breath in anticipation, and then… fireworks. It was cliche, yes. But, fuck. It felt like she was exploding into a million different sparkling colors. Her body was broken apart before being tossed back together, light glowing from the cracks. Dick continued to lap at her, drawing out her orgasm until she collapsed back on the bed. 

Gasping for breath, her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Dick kissing his way up her body. He nipped at her throat before pressing his lips to her ear. “You said kiss you like I meant it.”

She closed her eyes and let her hands drift down his back. “Oh, you meant it.” Her lips twitched. “And did you mean what you said, when you promised to fuck me into this mattress?”

He laughed and hooked her leg up along his hip again. “Yes.” 

In one, smooth movement, he pushed his generous cock into her. Raven’s back arched and she hissed her breath out between clenched teeth. It had been nearly a year since she had been with anyone, and Dick was no small feat. She shifted beneath him, listening to his labored breath and strained groans. 

“Fuck you’re tight.”

“Doesn’t help that you’re huge.” 

His responding hum sounded like he was preening at the compliment. 

They stilled for a moment, trying to get used to this sudden and new feeling. But it didn’t take long before the tension was replaced with a simmering feeling of desire burning just underneath their skin. Raven felt her magic spark at the edges of her fingertips, and she gasped, pushing her hips up into his. She needed him to move now, or she was going to lose all parts of herself to this desperation. Her mouth fell open with a silent groan, and she shivered against him. 

“Move.” Her nails raked down his back, and she felt tears start to gather at the edges of her eyes. “Please. Oh, god, please. Fuck me.” 

He pulled back and slammed into her with enough force that the headboard shook against the wall. Raven’s fraying control finally snapped, and she screamed, urging him forward to take her harder and faster. She didn’t want a slow exploration of each other’s bodies - that was for later. She wanted to be utterly consumed and then destroyed by him. She wanted to be a useless, boneless mess, fucked so good that she didn’t even remember her own name. 

And he was doing a bang up job so far. 

Dick was relentless, his body pounding into her own with wild abandon. He was muttering things to her under his breath, emotions and feelings and memories she had nearly forgotten about. It felt like he was trying to bring back some softness to this carnal depravity, but there was nothing that could make this gentle and innocent again. This a moment of raw passion, and their emotions took a backseat to the urgency of their physical desire. 

Raven screamed again, her muscles sizing as time slid through her fingers, disappearing with every frantic thrust of his body. The room was filled with curses and groans, and the sound of skin against skin. Dick’s hand dropped between their bodies, and he pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts. 

“Are you close? I… can’t hold on much longer.” His words were muttered between clenched teeth again. “I need… I need you to come, Raven. I need you to come hard.”

She didn’t even have a chance to respond before her orgasm slammed into her like a freight train. Her magic snapped out of her fingertips, and she watched as the lights in her room burned like a flash before sparking and bathing them in blackness. Raven closed her eyes and let wave after wave of pleasure wrack her body, until she was nothing but a useless shell lying on her sweat soaked bed. 

Dick tipped his head back and roared her name, his body shaking as his own orgasm consumed him. With another curse, he collapsed over her, catching his weight on his forearms. They lay there for what seemed to be hours, just gasping and basking in the bone-deep pleasure of sex. 

Finally, Dick started to laugh, dropping his head to her shoulder. 

Raven kept her eyes closed, still trying to swallow air. “What is so funny?”

“Open your eyes.”

She did, and was greeted by pitch-black darkness. Raven blinked a few times before looking out the window. “What…”

“Congratulations, Rae.” He continued to laugh, kissing over her shoulders. “Your orgasm blew out the power grid for the whole city.” 

Well, fuck.

[daraoakwise]

Rewatching the Original Series just for the Uhura parts! Because we love her. Episode 2x19 - A Private Little War and 2x20 - Return to Tomorrow. Featuring Uhura in command (maybe?) and a rather amazing scream from Nichelle Nichols.

Episode 2x19 - A Private Little War. Uhura is barely in this one, although there is an interesting scene at the beginning.

Spock is shot on a early-civilization planet by a weapon that shouldn’t be invented there yet and is critically wounded. Kirk and McCoy beam up with him, and as the medics try to stabilize Spock in the transporter room, Uhura brings the ship to red alert. Kirk calls up to the bridge; a Klingon ship has appeared, she tells him urgently.

Kirk rushes up to the bridge with Spock’s life still very much in the balance. When he arrives, it’s not clear who has been in command. With Kirk and Spock on the planet, Scotty would have been, but he ran down to the transporter room to beam the away team home after the report of a critical injury. The center seat is empty; it honestly looks like Uhura, Chekov, and the helmsman are the only ones there. Uhura is kind of acting in charge. She certainly ranks Chekov, and random helmsman doesn’t say a word. Is this the first (only?) time we see her in command of the bridge?

The Klingons haven’t seen the Enterprise, Uhura’s reports; they are making a routine transmission to their base

Kirk muses, in concern, that just thirteen years ago the indigenous people had barely learned how to forge iron, and now had flintlocks. Uhura states that it took earth twelve centuries between those two events. Kirk surmises that the Klingons have interfered on the planet. Scott, Uhura, and Chekov push him on that, rapidly tossing out various alternatives until Kirk growls at them that he did not invite a debate. The three officers straighten, chastised and a bit shocked. It is uncharacteristic of Kirk to snap at his officers like that. Kirk apologizes; he’s very concerned about Spock and the planet.

Other than being on the bridge when a healed Spock returns to it, that’s it for Uhura in this episode.

Episode 2x20 - Return to Tomorrow

We open on a tense bridge; Uhura reports that while there isn’t a signal, and nothing seems to exist to explain their readings, something is affecting all channels.

The arrive around a dead world, and a booming voices fills the bridge. Uhura looks up in amazement. Her hailing frequencies are not open.

Kirk is invited to the planet, although the voice admits that the voice is dead. Kirk makes a log stating that he’ll go, in the name of exploration. Uhura tells him Starfleet won’t get the log for three weeks.

As a complete aside, I love these little moments when they are way out there. Sometimes it seems like they are just patrolling Federation space, but sometimes they are so far away that a recorded signal, traveling at warp speeds, will still take weeks to get home. It also means no one is calling home; there are alone out there, and only have each other.

The episode unfolds around alien consciousnesses who need help and, with permission, inhabit the bodies of Kirk, Spock, and Pretty Lieutenant of the Week. It turns out the one inhabiting Spock is the bad guy who intends to keep Spock.

Uhura doesn’t appear again until the end of the episode, giving a truly blood-curdling scream when the alien inhabiting Spock’s body uses its mind to torture her for some transgression (presumably refusing to cooperate), causing her agonizing pain. She slumps forward onto her station, nearly unconscious. It’s really pretty horrible, even more so because it Spock (sort of) torturing her.

She has recovered enough to stand up when it seems that Spock has been killed in both mind and body. But Spock is restored, and Uhura reaches toward Nurse Chapel and straightens her as Chapel slumps forward a bit — it turns out Chapel has been hosting Spock’s consciousness. (I truly think Uhura and Chapel are friends. They don’t interact often, but end up touching one another every time they do.) Uhura looks on as the aliens inhabit the bodies of Kirk and Pretty Lieutenant of the Week one more time to share a goodbye kiss before spreading themselves into oblivion.

[bearbluebooks]

Chapter Two - Open Your Eyes

Gwyn get's introduced to the four societies and the different kinds of magic that exist in Helmerra. Who is this notorious Inner Circle, and who becomes Gwyn's tourguide? Our favorite shadow boy Azriel makes his appearance in this chapter, in his first POV.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Chapter 1

Trigger warning, reference to sexual violence from “Gwyn it’s time to wake up” to the first horizontal line.

I imagined Helmerra as Hogwarts. The infirmary looks like this, but much more massive:

Gwyn POV

“Come back to shore little water dancer”, Gwyn could hear her mums voice call her faintly in the distance. “One more minute”, Gwyn yelled as loudly as her lungs allowed. She loved the feeling of the soft water brushing her skin. She wished she never had to leave its soft embrace. Some people in her village were scared of the sea, claiming the vastness of the sea harbored too many secrets. For Gwyn it was a constant reminder of how small she was, it calmed her in ways nothing else could. The expanse of the ocean reminded her that nothing was as serious as her mind often convinced her it was.

Catrin shared her love for the sea.  Although it had the opposite effect on her, it energized her in a way that often made their mum regret taking them to the beach. Races were a promised part of beach visits. Catrins enthusiasm, and supernatural swimming abilities, sometimes lost to Gwyn’s competitiveness, but not as often as Gwyn would have liked. The only thing Gwyn never lost, was the amount of time spent in the sea. Catrin always complained she got cold, no matter how much she excised her body. Strangely, Gwyn never had that problem, her mum even lovingly nicknamed her human furnace.

“Gwyn it’s time to wake up”, “Gwyn dear”. That was not her mums voice. Catrin. Mum. Sangravah. The men. The violence. It all rushed back to Gwyn in the horrible seconds it took to open her eyes. She saw a female with white hair hovering over her, in the same brown space as yesterday. Strange lights were hovering in the air, what kind of place was this? “I am so sorry to wake you sweety,  but you have been asleep for more than 24 hours, and the female healer just arrived, we thought it would be best to let a female examine you” the nurse quietly explained. Gwyn’s whole body shivered, the thought of having someone touch her made her feel sick.

The next few moments were a blur. She remembers soft voices, and even softer touches. Featherlight hands moved over her body. Every action was announced before it happened, which eased some of the tension she felt in her body, mind and soul. She still felt removed from the world, as if she was a spectator watching the world from afar. It felt as if she was not really inhabiting her body, as if she was separated from this plane of existence. “Drink this dear, it is a contraceptive tea, it tastes horrible but it is necessary I’m afraid.”

She remembered Iridia, her former teacher, explained this practice once:

When a male and a female love each other a lot, they can express their love in a physical way. When this happens, children are born, just like you! However, it is possible for a couple to want to express their love without having children, and that’s when the female (or the male!) can take a special tea to prevent this from happening.

The doctor explained how she sustained minor injuries to her lower extremities from the assault. The physical injuries would heal with time. The doctor explained that she was more afraid of the invisible injuries. She kept mentioning something called a reflectionist. She scheduled appointments with this ‘reflectionist’ to start as soon as she was physically recovered.

A short while after the doctor left, Gwyn drifted back to sleep, with tears slowly running down her face.

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The next days became long, and the nights endless. The calming sound of the sea was replaced with an unnerving quiet. A quiet that seemed louder, it was as if sounds were more audible here. The air seemed different too. The fresh air that her lungs were accustomed to, now felt a little bit heavier, as if dust was ever-present in this new environment. The walls were no longer made of the dark grey mountain rock, but a strange different type of brown stone. It smelled a little bit stale, like the old library back at home. She missed the fresh smell of trees and the sea.

Every time she woke up, all her senses immediately reminded her that she was not home. Sangravah was nothing but a distant memory. And all the people were dead. Did the men hurt Blue too? Tears ran down her face again.

Knock knock. A female wearing strange blue robes approached her bed. She had a slim frame, and kind green eyes, like the willow trees she loved so much. A piece of paper floated in the air in front of her, and words slowly appeared on it, one by one, as if an invisible pen was writing them. Her eyes looked for the pen, but all she could see were damaged hands, as if her fingers were all at the wrong angles. How was she writing this?

Hello Gwyneth, my name is Clotho. I am the head priestess of Helmerra, the school you are currently in. The group that rescued you brought you here. You were supposed to be enrolled when you were twelve, but we’ll talk about all that later. I am so sorry about what transpired in Sangravah.

Her eyes seemed to tear up a bit, as if she could feel Gwyn’s pain from personal experience. We heard about your training as a priestess, and we wanted to offer you a space in the library, to train under Merril, a very talented researcher. You will remain a student, following classes, but you will also have a place in the library.

She heard about priestesses outside of Sangravah. How they carried out important religious and academic responsibilities. But she never imagined she would meet them, her mum was always very secretive and suspicious of people outside of Sangravah. All she could think to ask was: “are the children alive?”

Nobody mentioned it to you? They are alive and well. Helmerra is only for children aged twelve and older, so most of the children were sent to the youngling school in Niniams. I’m sure we can arrange a visit soon, so you can reconcile.

A weight Gwyn hadn’t realized she was carrying lifted off of her. Silent tears continued to run down her face. So it hadn’t all been for nothing. They had survived.

Words continued to form on the floating paper.

The nurse reassured me that you could leave the healing quarter tomorrow. If you choose to join our school, I will accompany you tomorrow. In the intervening time, a lovely student, Elain, will introduce you to our school this afternoon. I am sure you two will become fast friends. Rest, dear Gwyneth, things will get better, I promise.

With those parting words, Clotho silently left the room.

The room was concealed by tall white curtains in every direction. They sheltered her from the rest of the space. Curiosity won out over fear, as Gwyn moved the part of the curtain that functioned as the door slightly, to reveal a massive well-lit space.

Rows of beds stood against the opposite wall. Some of the beds were occupied by curious looking males. Were those wings? They were as black as night, and they looked like those of a bat. She must still be delirious from all the healing potions, because she never read or heard about such a thing existing.

On the right, many females in white uniforms were moving urgently to a bed occupied by one of those winged males. As soon as she saw him, the world stopped, and her breathing stalled. Even lying in bed, hurt, he was the most handsome male she had ever seen, with his golden-brown skin, sharp jaw-line and muscular frame. His eyes were closed but she was sure everything about this male was beautiful. His wings seemed to be much bigger than the other males’, did this mean he could fly faster? There were strange crystals on his clothing, in a beautiful blue color, her favorite. The curtains surrounding his bed were quickly closed, ending her entrancement as abruptly as it started.

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Azriel POV

The last mission was a tough one, he thought to himself. A whole village slaughtered by those fucking lunatics he once heard about in ‘fundamentals’, a mandatory class about Pryhtians’ history. He remembers Cassian, his brother, distracting him, talking about some fight he and Nesta, his partner, had the night before.

He knows it was some kind of cult of idiots who believed in an ancient prophecy. But for the life of him he couldn’t remember what they called themselves. Solar Scholars, Cosmic Nutjobs? It was all the same to him, complete bullshit. He hated people who justified violence with made-up reasons, and what was more made up than some ancient bogus story.

Even though he was still young -he had just turned 21- he had seen a lot of battles already. He was an Illyrian, and all younglings born with Illyrian heritage were sent to a warrior camp.  This is where he met his brothers. They may not have been brothers by birth, but they sure as hell became family by everything they experienced in that damned camp. Instead of a school where children were prepared for the magical arts, they were trained for battle. Childhood innocence was overrated anyway.

Azriel quickly stood out, not only due to his supernatural fighting abilities and knife throwing skills, but because of his shadows. They gave him a special edge, because everywhere shadows were present, he was present. They provided him with information. This gave him a predisposition to hear and feel things others couldn’t. His shadows also allowed him to travel through space with them. This all made him an elite warrior and spy, a fact, that the camp leaders quickly realized. They took a special interest in him, honing him into the perfect warrior.

When he got admitted to Helmerra, at age twelve, he was recruited to a secret group, the ‘Shadow Legionnaire’. First he was solely used for his shadows as a spy, garnering information nobody else could get. As he grew older, his responsibilities quickly took on a more active role. His missions ranged from torture -something he was exceptionally good at- to warfare.

Yet, the village he was sent to yesterday was one of the most violent and chaotic battles he had ever seen. Battle was too strong a word. The people were slaughtered, they never stood a chance.

In the village he tried to rescue two females. Although he was able to save one, he was too late for the other. Casualties were part of war, he knew that, but something felt off about this one. And he could not get the redhead he saved out of his head.

He later heard she, Gwyn, and the kids she saved, were the only survivors that day. His shadows whispered of her presence in the far corner of the healing quarter, and he was very tempted to walk over there. See if she was alright with his own two eyes. He could not forget the numbness on her face. It was a sensation he was al too familiar with. And he kept on seeing those teal eyes, filled with horror every time he closed his eyes.

At that moment, Elain came in. Panicked as usual. He was fine. The healers fixed him up and his healing abilities would take care of the rest. He did not have the mental energy to reassure her right now. Yesterday, one of the Sunny assholes nicked his wing. To prevent permanent damage he was rushed into the healing quarters. Elain, with her fucking Seer abilities, always knew everything immediately. Although it was a useful tactical advantage, in moments like these it was just annoying.

Sometimes he wondered why he was in a relationship with her. Was it out of habit? Or because his brothers were paired up, and ending it would mean he would be alone? Was he a coward for not ending it? Or was he just looking for problems where there were none? Violence always made him more pensive.

As if she could also read his mind, she kissed him goodbye and informed him of the new student she had to show around the school. And with that, she promptly left, “don’t die on me!” she said with a smile as she shortly turned around. To which Azriel rolled his eyes.

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Gwyn POV

True to Clotho’s word, Elain visited her ‘room’ later that afternoon. What she didn’t expect was such a lovely female, was everybody in this school impossibly beautiful? Elain’s golden-brown hair reached her middle, framing her soft, round pale face. Her eyes were the color of tree bark, giving her a delicate appearance. She looked innocent, like the fawn she often saw in the forest. She reminded her of home. For the first time since she got here, she felt a slither of comfort. “I am so sorry I’m late, Azriel, my partner, was rushed to the healing quarter this morning. I just visited him.”

Was that the name of the beautiful male, Azriel? It made sense to her, the Cauldron pairing the two most attractive people she ever laid her eyes upon. She still felt a pang of sadness run through her, as if a part of her just perished hearing those words, ‘partner’. Although she didn’t know why, she only just met him and she had no claim to him whatsoever.

Gwyn now noticed the slightly disheveled look to her appearance. “If you need to be with him, I understand”, she offered. “No don’t be silly, these kinds of things happen all the time, I got used to it.” Elain countered.

“Let’s start with the basics. Have they told you about the different societies?” Gwyn looked puzzled. “Of course they haven’t. There are four societies, the most physically powerful are the Illyrians. You can recognize them by their wings. They have heightened senses, heal very fast, and make the perfect warriors.”

“It’s kind of stuffy in here. Shall we go for a walk?” Gwyn hardly had time to respond, for which she was surprisingly thankful. Her brain was working overtime so it was nice to follow for a little bit, and Elain seemed like a trustworthy person.

Elain continued talking as they walked over a beautiful old bridge, towards a courtyard. The stone pathway, was divided from the open courtyard by several classical looking columns. In between the columns were little places to sit. What a cozy place to read, Gwyn thought to herself.

“The next society has the most people, the ‘faes’. Historically the school would divide them into ‘higher’ fae and ‘lesser’ fae, but we don’t do that anymore, a fae is a fae. Powers range from elemental magic, to more obscure powers such as mindreading and foresight, like me! I can see into the future. I am still learning to control it, but when I have a close relationship with someone, or if I touch a certain object, I can see the future!”

Gwyn was shocked. It was as if her world was turning upside down. Magic was real?

“What can you do?” This dragged Gwyn out of her thought spiral. “Uhhm, I don’t know, I didn’t even know magic was possible? I have only read about it in stories.” “Hmmm. Interesting. I am sure professor Spell-Cleaver has a solution for that. He knows about everything, it’s kind of scary sometimes.”

“Okay let’s move on. The most powerful society magic wise, is the ‘Royal society’. This is also the smallest one. Only children born from royalty are let into this society. They perform the strongest magic, it’s ridiculous what they can do, you will find out soon enough too.”

Shivers ran down Gwyn’s spine. Was it a good idea to stay here?

As if sensing her worry, Elain reassuringly said, “don’t worry, Helmerra is the safest place in all of Pryhtian. We have all these protection spells surrounding the school, and everybody who is not a teacher or a student, gets fried on the spot.” Strangely, that did make her feel a lot better.

“What is the last faction, you mentioned three societies, what’s the fourth?”

“Aah, I see, you’re a smart one. I can sense it. The fourth one is the species society, or as students call it ‘the Wild Ones’. They consist of all the different species in Prythian, you name it they’re here! We have Water Nymphs, Naga, Pegasi, Suriel, Water-Wraiths, Urisks and even more!” We use Pegasi to fly into battle, we even have a course on it, isn’t that fun!

Gwyn couldn’t believe her ears. She stopped listening after Pegasi. She devoured fantasy stories as a child, and the ever elusive Pegasus was a favorite. Maybe this school was not so bad after all?

“How do the classes work?” Gwyn loved studying. She was exceptionally talented in memorizing texts. Her curiosity was an even more useful trait, as she never grew tired of learning new things. Sometimes her mum would get annoyed with all her questions, but Gwyn knew deep down she loved her curious mind.

“Hmm. Good question. Depending on your society, you receive training beneficial to your abilities. We have a couple of general ones, like self-defense, fundamentals, and my favorite herbology! We have electives as well, I’m doing ‘Small Weaponry’. I’m getting quite good with my archery skills!”

“We have lunch every day in our dining hall. We have huge tables, that fit everybody. Usually people sit with their society, but my friendship group is a blend of everything. Rhys is the heir to the Night Court, Morrigan is his niece, Azriel, Emerie and Cassian are Illyrians, me and my sisters are fae, and Amren truly is a ‘wild one’. We call ourselves the ‘Inner Circle’. You should join us!

“Thank you that is very kind of you, I will think about it.” Gwyn was telling the truth. She hoped she would be ready to take up the kind offer, but she could not imagine eating in such an overwhelming space.

Elain’s tour ended back at the healing quarters. What timing, she must have done this many times, Gwyn thought. “Thank you so much for the tour Elain, that was very nice of you.” Elain took a long look at her, it was as if she could see her soul, “it was my absolute pleasure Gwyn, I hope to see you around.” And with those words, Elain left Gwyn to her solitude again.

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

The next day, Clotho helped Gwyn settle into the library quarters. Traditionally, its boarding was limited to teaching staff, but Gwyn did not yet have a society she belonged to, so she would get first get settled in the more remote part of Helmerra.

The library living quarters were hidden behind a bookcase, the book ‘morales resolutes’ would trigger the mechanism that unveiled a spiral staircase leading down to a small room with a rounded door. Behind the door, a long hallway lead to twenty rooms, ten on each side. Each room was small, harboring a small bed, wardrobe, desk, bookcase, chair, and a small window. The window was beautifully ornate, Gwyn’s window was made of mosaic white roses.

She was relieved not to have to share the space with strangers. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel the emptiness of the room, which echoed the hollow feeling she felt inside her body.

Exhausted by all the new impressions. She quickly fell asleep. Only to be met by new nightmares of old memories.

Her heart was beat fast, sweat dripped down the side of her face, and on her body. Her shivering body woke her up. She senses something. Something that did not belong in her room.

The next day, Clotho helped Gwyn settle into the library quarters. Traditionally, its boarding was limited to teaching staff, but Gwyn did not have a society she belonged to, yet , so she would first get settled into the more remote part of Helmerra.

The library living quarters were hidden behind a bookcase, by pulling the book ‘morales resolutes’ a mechanism was triggered that unveiled a spiral staircase leading down to a small room with a rounded door. Behind the door, a long hallway lead to twenty rooms, ten on each side. Each room was small. Harboring a small bed, a wardrobe, desk, bookcase, chair, and a small window. The window was beautifully ornate, Gwyn’s window was made of mosaic white roses.

She was relieved not to have to share the space with strangers. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel the emptiness of the room, which echoed the hollow feeling carried around in her body.

Exhausted by all the new impressions. She quickly fell asleep. Only to be met by new nightmares of old memories.

Her heart was beating fast, sweat dripped down the side of her face, and on her body. Her shivering body woke her up. She sensed something. Something that did not belong in her room.

Her eyes scanned her new world. What was that lying on the ground? She slowly stood up from the bed to look at the object more closely. It was a small book with a blue cover, titled ‘Pegasi and Pennies’. An old fairytale her mum used to read to her and Catrin. She would never be able to get enough. Once the story was finished, she would beg her mum to start over. How did Clotho know? She put the book in the bookcase. The room seemed a little bit less empty now. And so did her heart.

[artjoke]

Kind stranger.

May the blessings of The Three Virtues be upon you for your kind act.

I call upon The Protector to keep you in his palm and may the spirit of the Explorer guide you. May the face of The Maker always shine upon you and may your kindness be repaid.

I'm trying to keep my head level since your ministrations to my wolf's wounds were done so expertly, so skilfully I can barely see the scars. And perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps my hopes and yearnings are just playing with me? Perhaps it was just a scratch.

I wonder whether you can realise the grave impact your actions have on me. My hand is shaking, and my heart is racing as I write this letter. The ramifications and significance of your very existence alone are enough to shake my world in its foundations. Ever since that dreadful day, I believed I am the only one, that our village has been the last. And when I was the only survivor of that carnage, I assumed that there is nowhere else to go. No one else to seek out. I doubt I would have even survived thus far, had there not been the happy coincidence of finding my Elle, my wolf just days after the destruction of the village. She has been but a pup at the time and badly injured. But I nursed her back to life and she repaid me with her loyalty and companionship. She has been my only friend in all those years of solitude. I did not keep her captive, as you saw, but let her wander as she pleased. She went into the forest and came back on several occasions. Sometimes for several days at a time or even a week, but never for a whole month, like this time. At first, I thought nothing of it, but with each passing day, I grew increasingly concerned. I do not know how I would have continued had she not returned. And when she did, I was beside myself. My initial joy has blinded me from noticing anything different about her, but now I see those faint signs of her injury. It is hard to imagine she could have healed so well on her own.

And now I am in turmoil. Was I really wrong all those years? Am I not the last? I hope I was wrong, yet I barely dare to entertain that possibility.

I know there is likely nobody out there, and my actions now are futile. But I also know that I would never forgive myself for not trying, for not reaching out. So here I am. Writing this note. To an unknown receiver, without any idea of who or what you are, or if you even exist. I will attach it to the collar of my beloved wolf. And, if you are, as you seem to be, her friend, the letter will reach you in time.

So, dear stranger if you are reading these lines, please consider writing a reply.  I would deem it a great favour if you did so. And please tell me about yourself, I want to know everything, anything.

With hope and gratitude,

Amodeo

P.S.: Please forgive the state of the paper on which I wrote this note, scraps like this one are all I have left from the time before. You’ll also find a few empty ones attached in case you are like me, so you can use them to respond.