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walksinlatewithcoffee · 1 year

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Baby name ideas for the Empires Crew

Cause apparently yall need some now?

SCOTT:

Theme: colors

Scarlet

Amber

Violet

Cyan

Gray

Ash (associated with gray)

Beryl (a pale green stone)

Bianca (means white)

Carmine (crimson red)

Fawn (light brown)

GEM:

Theme: Sun

Citrine (light callback to s1 cause citrine is a stone formed when amethyst experiences intense heat)

Sunny

Apollo

Helios

Crystal

Peach

Flora

Alba (means Dawn)

Soleil (French sun name)

Star

JOEL:

Theme: gods/holy/Greek

Blessing

Hera

Theo (means ‘gift of god’)

Pandora

Ares

Eudora (Greek name meaning ‘generous gift’)

Skye

Achilles

Orion

Ouranos (Greek spelling of Uranus, father of the Titans and also a word meaning “the heavens”

KATHERINE:

Theme: dichotomy of glimmer grove/strength/beauty

Lilac

Lavender

Janus (words with contradictory meaning are sometimes called “Janus words”)

Hecate (goddess of witchcraft)

Persephone

Tempest

Farris (‘strong as iron’ according to the website I’m looking at)

Valentine (both a romantic association as well as having ‘strong’ as an earlier meaning)

Sterling (steel)

Belle

OLI:

Theme: music/independence

Harmony

Lyra

Aria

Viola

Lark

Cadence

Wolfgang

Rhythm

Robin

Spirit

JIMMY:

Theme: strength/common western names

Barrett (mighty as a bear)

Billy/Billie

Oak

Cash (last name if a famous singer)

Dakota

Beau

Daisy

Wynona (first name of a famous singer and a personal favorite of mine)

Cheyenne

Colton (I know so many yeehaw boys named Colton it’s an epidemic)

LIZZIE:

Theme: animals

Kitty

Wren

Leo

Wolf

Draco

Raven

Kit

Dove

Ursula (from ‘Ursa’ meaning bear + light callback to season 1)

Mariposa (butterfly)

SAUSAGE:

Theme: peace/safety/protection/rabbits

Faith

Jack (jackrabbit)

Serenity

Peter (Peter cottontail)

Olive/Olivia (olive bran em has symbol of peace)

Alexis/Alexander/Alexa etc. (All meaning protector of mankind)

Atlas

Angelo

Anthea (goddess/flowers)

Crysanthos (golden flower, name of a Saint)

PIX:

Theme: history, ancient stuff, stones, memory (amendment: I couldn’t find many good names so I just found a bunch of really old names)

Sophia (lover of wisdom/knowledge)

Athena

Beowulf (both a name meaning ‘intelligent wolf’ and the oldest known work of Anglo-Saxon literature)

Sage

Alareiks (gothic name meaning ‘ruler of all’ modernized as Alaric but I think Pix would use the older version)

Áleifir (old Norse form of Olaf and that is such a downgrade on spelling why did we ever stop using the original spelling????? Also means ancestor’s legacy which is PERFECT)

Caecelia (original Latin spelling of Cecelia, means both “blind” and is the name of an ancient religious martyr)

Cúán (“little wolf” in Old Irish and I think that’s just cute)

Demophon (literally “the people’s voice” in Ancient Greek)

Ingo (an old name and also a reference to a character who accidentally travels back in time in Pokémon: Legends Arceus) (I’m running out of ideas can you tell?)

JOEY

Theme: water, treasure

Diamond (it’s not that weird I went to high school with a girl named diamond)

Jade

Cordelia (apparently means daughter of the sea)

Hudson (literal name of a body of water on earth)

Caspian (literal name of a body of water on earth)

Opal

Gold

Sapphire

Tiara

Jasper (a personal favorite + matching initials)

FWHIP:

Theme: names with negative meanings, more stones (no I didn’t use them all on Joey’s list actually)

Lapis

Jet

Onyx

Ruby

Topaz

Deidre (sorrowful)

Kennedy (misshapen head)

Cain (I don’t think I need to explain this one. It’s also a favorite name of mine)

Cameron (crooked nose)

Lorelei (literal translation is ambush Cliff, but colloquially the meaning is ‘a woman who leads a man to his death’ which is metal as fuck)

SHELBY:

theme: herbs/witchy stuff/creepy stuff

Damien

Desdemona (Ill-fated one)

Rosemary (both an herb and a character in a classic horror film)

Nyx

Poe

Salem

Blair

Belladonna (comes with the literal translation of ‘beautiful woman’ as well)

Morrigan (literally ‘phantom queen’ and a figure in Irish mythology)

Dusk

FALSE (if she ever logs in to participate)

Theme: obnoxiously British as befitting a steampunk theme

Silas

Ambrose

Augustus

Eleanor

Gwendolyn

Scarlett

Theodosia

Lysander

Wesley

Luther

#empires smp #scott smajor #solidarity gaming #mythical sausage #fwhip #joey graceffa #shubble #katherine elizabeth #geminitay #the orion sound #I’m half tempted to @ Scott #someone braver than me can lol

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atopvisenyashill · 1 year

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🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇷🐢🏝️ i got tired of complaining constantly on my main blog (@thewingedwolf is me!) about how sansa and rhaenyra did nothing wrong and also i needed a way to organize my theories and stuff. yes i have read all the books. yes i have (unfortunately) seen the whole show. yes i have seen all of hotd as well. so here we go. my stances are this, so you have an idea what to expect:

i am a catelyn, sansa, brienne, elia, lyanna and rhaenyra stan FIRST and a person SECOND

i would die for Gaemon Palehair, Lady Essie, and Sylvenna Sand, those are my canon OCs, and that’s why they’re my header.

Sansa and Bran are my favorites! I am a Sansa will be Queen in the North truther and a Bran will be the King in Harrenhal conspiracy theorist, It Is Heavily Foreshadowed In The Text and I stand on that!!

I'm well aware Rhaenyra has plenty of faults, I am saying that the greens (as in, the characters) do not like her because of her gender, and not for stuff she does that’s actually wrong, also, idc that she did all of that i simply think she’s fun.

Helaena really IS the one who did nothing wrong tho.

i am a Dark Daenerys believer. no, i don’t hate her - in fact, i really love her, although i do hate her show counterpart - I just think her arc is heading towards a dark path and being a villain protagonist is the more interesting route for her character.

House Martell will rise or I will piss in old man germ’s cornflakes.

I Will talk about the racism Dorne faces in the text and outside of it and neither your favorite house nor my favorite house is exempt from this. If you have a problem with that, keep it to yourself bc i do not care 🙏🏽

i multiship!! just bc i ship it doesn’t mean i think it’s gonna happen in the series, i just like the dynamic!!

i am in fact the annoying book jonsa truther they warned you about. i will Stay bitter about this. argue with the wall.

with that said, i also like theonsa, throbb, daemyra, laenyra, rhaewin, nedcat, braime, briensa, and a million other ones. faves listed here. several of them are dead dove-esque; what can i say, that's just george's style.

you decide whether it’s romantic or platonic when it’s an incest one, my opinion changes by the hour & im gonna fight grrm for making me think this much about incest.

i don’t like jonerys!!!!!! i'm sansan & sanrion ambivalent and i simply do not care about littlefucker like that. i would say i’ve thought positively about basically every other ship.

i’m in the middle of a reread, as of this moment (april 2024) i’ve kinda stalled on the beginning of a dance with dragons but i Have started a rewatch of the tv series as a form of torture.

i first read this series when i was 16 in like 2012-2013. i love to bitch about the takes i’ve seen. i sometimes reblog really old ass graphics bc they deserve new life even tho the creators are long since deactivated. i sometimes make graphics that look like they’re from 2014 bc we should bring that style back dammit i hate the typography movement going on rn.

big on tagging triggers so lmk (i’ll tag for all characters & major triggers but i’m fine with adding a specific one if asked and don't worry about it being a "weird" trigger - if sean bean's face or knives or wolves or whatever trigger you, i'm happy to tag for that!). my spoiler policy is that i’ll tag everything from this season as “hotd spoilers” and any of the Big Events with “episode title spoilers” but i can’t guarantee I can be consistent longer than like 2 days though i will try!! i Will be talking about any book canon events tho, the books have been out for years either you know how to avoid them or you know everything, i’m not tagging that.

i have a tag page that is more organized than the slapdash nonsense on this post, feel free to check it out here.

i may sound angry but i promise i am genuinely just here for a laugh. i just have resting bitch voice and no feel for tone and use the word fuck too much. it’s fine and unserious.

#getting on my soap box #some of my more commonly used tags are-#gender politics in asoiaf #lyanna and the starklings #smallfolk rise up #jon lyannason first of his name #the ghost of elia martell #the curse of visenya the conqueror #ados speculation #twow speculation #true knights #knighthood and oath keeping #ashford tourney theory #alysanne of harrenhal au #dreamer aegon au #there is always a lighthouse. there is always a man. there is always a city.#gael and the bard #lawyering for bran

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midnightfiireworks · 1 year

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SEXUAL PREFERENCES | BRAN

bold — always applies. italic — sometimes applies / depends on the person or situation. strike — never applies / hard limit.

#the dove ( bran. )#everything i wanna do is unthinkable ( headcanons. )#( character info. )#nsft

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iceywolf24 · 9 months

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"Most ravens will eat grain, but they prefer flesh. It makes them strong, and I fear they relish the taste of blood. In that they are like men ... and like men, not all ravens are alike. Doves and pigeons can also be trained to carry messages, though the raven is a stronger flyer, larger, bolder, far more clever, better able to defend itself against hawks ... yet ravens are black, and they eat the dead, so some godly men abhor them" - Maester Aemon

This describes Bran well, his connection to cannibalism, how strong, clever and bold he is, how good he is at flying(greenseeing), how he'll always be seen as a monster and abhored by some. Maester Aemon also describes ravens as being "hated and misunderstood."

Additionally, how not all ravens are the same and how they're different from each other, likely referring to how different Bran and Bloodraven are with their principles and how as Bran develops he won't immediately go for the ruthless decisions for 'the greater good' the way Brynden does.

#asoiaf #bran stark #bran stark meta #asoiaf meta #bran and Bloodraven #Bran symbolism #asoiaf ravens

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koyla-07 · 2 years

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The oath

The fire flames dance in the cavern's sultry air. Arya has to admit this is a great hiding place, as if the Sisterhood had built their own castle inside a mountain. Only the gods know how all the corridors were built, where anyone who is not set can get lost forever in this stone labyrinth, and the spans of the most varied sizes, heights and depths, which became rooms, kitchen, forge and even a temple.

Thoros took advantage of the largest, brightest, and most ventilated space to build a huge bonfire, where prayers to R'hllor take place and trials by combat, like that of the Hound, that no matter how many moons have passed, Arya is still sulking at the injustice of that fight. "They just let him go. As if the fact that the Hound is a good swordsman exempts him from his guilt and being an asshole."

Since that day, Arya has not been very fond of attending R'hllor cults. She admits that it's very interesting how the flames actually seem to talk to Thoros and take on different forms, but there is an aversion to the Lord of Light and his priests, like the red witch who tried to take Gendry a few weeks ago. Despite that, she's grateful for the flames that foretold the betrayal of the Freys and Boltons. If not for R'hllor's revelation, the ravens and doves sent in droves by the Sisterhood, his brother and mother would be dead and Winterfell would have been taken. Fortunately, that didn't happen, but it distanced her even more from Robb's troop, which lengthened her stay with the Brotherhood.

Arya only attends the rituals to keep up with Gendry, who genuinely seems fascinated by it all. "The Seven never did anything for me and, no offense, but I feel like a fool praying to a tree. At least R'hllor is something I can see. And shit, he raises the dead and does premonitions!" That's what Gendry told her when they talked about it one sleepless night. She can understand that, but at the same time it sparked a fear inside her that Gendry might be so fascinated as to abandon her and join the Brotherhood.

Not that she depends on Gendry for anything. She might as well do anything herself, but after years of traveling together, he's become part of her pack, taking the place of her broken family. The truth is that Arya loves him, although she still doesn't know what kind of love it is or how it affects their relationship, but she knows that this love is the reason for her fear of being abandoned. He promised that he would take her to his brother and Gendry never broke a promise or lied to her.

Besides, it's not like Arya needs that bull head or anyone else to survive. She knows how to use a sword better than most grown men, knows survival techniques, hunts extremely well and even learned how to take down a man twice his size, thanks to his fight training with Gendry. So there is no reason to be afraid of being alone, in fact, she is much more agile alone, others slow her down in many ways. But she still wants Gendry around.

– I still don't understand why they are consecrating this guy. – Gendry grumbles in his usual bad mood.

Arya looks at the man who swears his knighthood. He is a new member of the Brotherhood, terrible with a sword and even worse with a bow, but he is obedient and seems very convinced of his sense of justice. Arya likes the consecrations, they are one of the few rituals that don't make her angry or bored, because of her childhood dreams, when she ran after Bran with a wooden sword and told her father that she wanted to be a knight. He laughed. They always laugh.

– He'll get better with time. – Arya says just to piss him off. He is a stubborn bull who hates to be crossed. – When I was little… – Gendry regards her with a playful smile. "You're still little." She can almost hear him thoughts. – When I was a child, I dreamed of being a knight.

– You are a lady. – Gendry says in that mocking tone that she hates. – You can't be a consecrated knight, but you can own a castle and have your own oaths.

– I also dreamed of owning a castle, but that's impossible in this shitty world. – Arya's voice takes on an irritated tone and her nose wrinkles into a frown. – A woman can be the lady of a castle, but who manages it is the lord.

– Fuck that shit. – Gendry mutters, imitating her grimace. – You would still have knights.

– Actually, they wouldn't be sworn to me. - She says with a discreet laugh. Sometimes she forgets that Gendry didn't have a formal education like yours. He is not stupid, he knows very well how the world works apart from the privileges of the Great Houses, but he does not understand how the hierarchies and protocols of the nobility work. – Knights are not sworn to a person, but to a House and an estate. For example, Dad died, but the knights are still sworn to Winterfell and House Stark, which is to say, sworn to Robb.

She sees that Gendry is still looking at her, although his face has taken on a bored expression. Arya fixes her eyes on the consecration again. They are in a more isolated place and a little higher, so the view is privileged. Another man takes his vows and Baric consecrates him with his sword, as Thoros presents him to the flames of R'hllor. In the old days, that would ignite desire in her heart, but after what she's experienced on the Kingsroad, at Harrenhal, and with the Sisterhood, Arya no longer feels like dedicating her entire life to a single cause. There's a free and untamed spirit inside her, that wants to travel and see the most remote places in the world.

– I would give you a castle to rule, if I had one. – Gendry says softly, in that friendly tone that just exists to her. – You are smart and fair, you would be a fine ruler of Winterfell or anywhere else.

– Then it's a shame you're a bastard. – Arya jokes about the recent discovery that Gendry is King Robert's bastard son. – You could give me Storm's End.

– If I were legitimate, I wouldn't inherit Storm's End. – Gendry says with a shrug. – I would inherit the Seven Kingdoms and they would all be yours, my lady.

Arya feels her cheeks heat up. It's too much to hear that kind of thing from Gendry's gravelly husky voice, especially when he's speaking so low it's like a whisper. It almost feels like a statement and Arya doesn't know what to make of it.

– I wouldn't make a good queen or a good lady. – She says after a few minutes of silence. – It would be like being bound in golden chains. It is pretty, but it is still chains. – Arya smiles softly, feeling relieved to finally express her feelings aloud to the only person she trusts, who won't judge her and who understands her point of view perfectly. – I don't want the stability of a castle and the responsibility of a lordship. I want to be free, to know every remote place on earth and sail the sea to the edge. – His eyes remain fixed on the flames, but she can feel Gendry's gaze burning into her skin. – That's why no one would ever be sworn to me. Knights don't serve women, much less a free woman.

Silence settles between them for a while, but it's not uncomfortable. Gendry isn't much for talking, but he was always good at listening to her, especially her quirks and her weirdest thoughts. Sometimes she gets some response or they get into some argument, other times Gendry just absorbs her words and stores them somewhere inside him, in a place that not even Arya has access to. She feels as if his deep blue eyes are as mysterious and wild as the sea, whose waves resemble their color. "It's okay, I hide things inside myself too."

– This place is sacred, isn't it? – Gendry's question sounds strange and random to Arya. – Is what is said here valid, legitimate and blessed?

– I think so. Thoros practically turned it into a temple of R'hllor. – She replies with her eyes still fixed on the consecration. – If there is any sacred place in these lands, it is this place.

The three men, now Knights of the Brotherhood Without Banners, are lined up facing the fire. Baric hands them each a sword, and Thoros begins to pray to the flames, requesting for R'hllor's blessings. The fire churns, throwing sparks into the air, which crackles around it. The flames from the bonfire lighten the hall, forming shadows at its edges, making Arya and Gendry practically invisible. It was at that moment that she felt the body beside her move. She tilts her head in his direction and her eyes widen into glittering silver balls when she sees Gendry on his knees, his sword stuck in a crack in the stone floor.

– I, Gendry Waters, a bastard blacksmith from Flea Bottom, without titles or possessions, swear my loyalty and my life to you, Arya Stark of Winterfell. – His voice is a whisper in the darkness, serious and firm, at the same time soft and affectionate, twining itself in Arya's heart. - This sword does not belong to me, but I swear to be at your disposal, as well as any other weapon that my hands wield. I swear to forge your swords and your armor, I will wear your colors and your shields and I will follow you on land or sea. – Gendry's heat grows more intense. Arya can feel him closer and her body turns towards him on its own. She can even feel the cold blade of the sword touch the exposed skin of her ankle. – If you accept me, I will be your knight from this day, until the last of my days.

Arya stands completely still for a few seconds. She absorbs Gendry's words, which echo and curl inside her, filling voids in her heart that Arya didn't even know existed. This warms her inside in a sweet, delicious way, like warm mead. A flare of fire momentarily illuminates them. Arya can see Gendry right in front of her, still on his knees, his hands tightening around the hilt of his sword, his tanned skin bathed in the golden light of the flames and his blue eyes full of affection, anxiously awaiting her answer.

The shadow swallows them again. Between the many thoughts that bubble in her mind and the chaos of feelings that flood her heart, a certainty takes hold. Arya chooses to believe that this place truly is sacred and that the oaths they make to each other will stand true before the gods. She fumbles with her belt until she finds her dagger, then searches for Gendry's shoulder. “ As if it's hard to find someone that big.”

– I accept your oaths and make my own oath. – Arya touches his shoulder with the dagger, imitating the gesture of consecration of the knights. – I swear to put you under my protection, my colors and shields covering your shoulders, my swords will always be by your side and never against you. – Arya lifts her dagger and touches Gendry's other shoulder. – I swear to take you wherever I go, on land or sea, in the shadows or in the light. I swear to be your lady from this day, until the last of my days. – Arya collects the dagger and reaches for Gendry's hand, which wraps around hers at the feel of her touch. – Arise, Sor Gendry, Sworn Knight to Arya Stark.

– As my lady commands. – Gendry says raising her hand to his lips.

Inspiration: The accolade, by Edmund Leighton - 1901.

obs: English is not my native language, so this could contain a lot of errors.

#Gendrya fanfiction #arya x gendry #gendrya #Arya Stark #Gendry Waters

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hell-heron · 1 year

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This is a post or rather a list of disconnected thoughts about Sansa discourse. As such, it's probably unpleasant and annoying, dead dove not don't eat. As such it mentions a lot of people's opinions which I don't know when and who I heard from, it's meant to be about trend in the fandoms and not about vaguing anyone specific. It's really a vent and I'm open to discussion but please not to attacks, I'm also deliberately not tagging this and making this unrebloggable

It seems that a "discourse" that had a recent revival is whether Ned did anything amiss regarding Sansa in AGOT, whether that possibly has anything to do with her choice to go to Cersei with his plan, whether it's intellectually honest to make such a connection at all, or rather a reach for cheap justification of one's fave. It seems to pop up periodically, bring up more or less the same few talking points both in favor and against, and certainly it isn't the most offensive and virulent of discourses on either side, yet it makes me very sad.

I think it's because searching for more psychological nuance in character's motivation is such a joyous, common activity and arguably all that transformative fandom is really about, and would be so in any other fandom or even part of the fandom (to make an example, as a Theon fan I've never seen any backlash to the idea him kicking Gared's head is tied to his fear of having to witness executions as a possible future victim, even though that also can be construed as justification for a misdeed and woobification, and it could potentially be construed as criticism of Ned too, even though I've never meant it as one personally).

But it's not so here, not because the critics arbitrarily decided to be mean but because indeed everywhere in the subfandom such "theories" or "metas" are indeed used in this futile exercise of tallying up everything your fave did wrong with the wrong that was done against them and with what other characters they are pitted against did wrong and with what they did right. It's very much a process that its happening and it makes sense that people want to criticize the metas and theories to defend against it. I'm not under the delusion the Sansa fandom is practicing joyous analysis and speculation while the cruel outside world only thinking in terms of us against them and black and white morality criticizes them baselessly. But it's still very sad to me that there's no place for that speculation.

Part of what is causing the backlash is imho that people are making it about favoritism with Arya way, way more than it should be. I think maybe a smidge of jealousy might be present on Sansa's part, the very bratty and unjustified well why do I even behave if other kids don't and don't really get consequences :(( kind of jealousy, but I don't think it's even in the top 10 of Sansa's emotional issues in AGOT. Also Ned is not being a better father to Arya than to Sansa, that's very obvious to me even as someone who absolutely is not lovingly rereading in detail Arya's chapters. Their interactions are sooo frustrating, he so doesn't have any more time for her than for Sansa and doesn't take her more seriously than he does Sansa. It's all very deconstructive of typical child heroine narratives - we see the Adults Are Useless trope play in the story of the bratty teen daughter and the plucky kid daughter and at the same time we read the father's pov and we know and understand why he feels he has to keep them at a distance, to impose certain arbitrary rules on them, to keep them from the amount of involvement they desire, but it doesn't make it less infuriating. Or at least that's how I think people would perceive it.

But overall I think the most significant point is that Sansa's problems wouldn't really change if she was in King's Landing alone, or with a ladylike little sister, or with Bran. The problem is ultimately that Ned is forced to bring her somewhere where she must approach her adult role but he still heroically refuses to make her into an adult before her time by letting her have information on what she's going into. The problem is Ned is forced to hatch a plan that relies on Sansa's betrothal to Joffrey, which in turn relies on Sansa's little irrational 12-year-old feelings to keep him from feeling like a monster, bc no way Ned would continue this if Sansa was unhappy with her lot - so how can he expect those little irrational 12-year-old feelings to stop being relevant when they suddenly run counter to his plans? How can he expect to revert everything to before he gave Sansa a bethrothal and a glimpse of court and her first taste of heartbreak without consequences? How can we expect the conflation of the personal and the political in feudal society won't fuck with him in every possible way lol. None of that is tied to Arya, and arguably none of that is something he necessarily could have done better.

But besides all this, honestly, AGOT Sansa if we take her completely at face value is such a meh, thinly written character that it's obvious we're not meant to take everything at face value, even if what I see there is not precisely what we're meant to be reading. But if it's not so, and she really is meh and thinly written... It's such a fandom tradition to look at the text and be like yea i can fix that. I can enrich that -which Is still, after all, a fantasy novel and not like, a Crime and Punishment to be taken in with acedemic rigor - with my transformative understanding. It's so perverse that we're in a situation where doing so will instead rouse the legitimate suspicion that you're claiming for your fave a place in the morality hyerarchy and protagonist hyerarchy that they haven't ~earned~.

It's a common criticism of fandom that loving speculation and headcanoning and analysis will be lavished on mediocre/secondary male characters in a way it isn't in female ones, and that people will then turn around and say they don't focus on female characters because they're not as well written. We've all seen that meme. Well, Sansa has always traditionally been a break in that pattern, ever since ~2014 when I started going on aso/iaf Tumblr it was so, both for the books and the show - people were always going beyond the text, were so fixated on her potential and her subtext and the way small details, small lines could be spun in meaningful ways. It is true that sometimes the Sansa you read metas about seems to be a wildly different one than the one on page, or at least a version of her taken to the next level in a way that she hadn't in the books yet. I remember reading a lot of meta that listed every small offhand deduction and correct reasoning she made in attempts to prove she had some growth or potential for intelligence and feeling happy and validated in my like for her, but also kinda wondering 'wow, think what would turn up if someone tried this kind of obsessive close reading with a character who actually does things'.

I think part of it was that the time was just ripe for the character people wanted Sansa to be at the time, that there was a desire for conversation on a bit more complex relationship with gender roles and social conformance than we were getting - I often wondered what the fandom would have been like if Margaery had been the POV and Sansa the intriguing supporting character, if people would have been repulsed by having a more active and openly grey character or if rather that would have been a beloved, effective exploration of courtly female power that didn't leave the fandom to do so much wank to fill the gaps. But part of it is also that there's a hole in asoiaf and in mainstream media in general for the female Theons and Sandors and Jaimes (and Tyrions, if people did that with Tyrion, which they don't more bc ableism/show baggage than because he doesn't Land himself to that), for characters that are completely gray and changeable and full of subtext and potential which invites you to analyse it and overthink it and make explanations if not excuses, offering a opportunity for an excercise of seeing things from the opposite point of view, characters that physically can't be analysed in a framework of who-is-more-virtuous-and-competent-than-whom. Sansa is obviously a pretty shitty substitute for that kind of antihero category, but she's the one most obviously offering herself to fill that gap - Arianne came too late and Asha started out well but didn't retain that quality in her actual POVs and Melisandre only has one chapter. Idk, I'm not sure this last part makes sense. Just the main thought that this trend of discourse always gives to me is "I wish I could enjoy Sansa the way I enjoy Theon instead of like this".

#op #i wrote this in kind of a fugue state yesterday after a party and I dont know how much it makes sense outside my head.#please dont come factcheck my feelings lol

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roomsbyadverbzine · 2 months

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o quad-loaf (aka cuphook) [0xE6B]

written by Xenia Parastatidou | διάβασέ το στα ελληνικά εδώ

The first time we met, we only exchanged a glance. We both knew we shouldn't have gone so far out of the foliage of the trees. There are red, square, black-letter signs everywhere, "no trespassing". We, the lower classes of branches and leaves, learn that it is dangerous to get close to the upper foliage and go out into the open air.

From a young age I remember my grandmother telling us stories about the elves that live outside the trees, about the creation of our world, about us. My favorite was the one about the Sacred Buildings, their tips touching the tips of the stars, I remember her saying. That's where it all started. Our existence, our energy and our traditions are tied inextricably to the creation of the three Sacred Trees. They shaped us, formed us and gave life to everything that surrounds us. They built our society from the roots to the last branches. And on top of them they placed the three temples. Once my grandmother, at the end of the story, whispered just to me: "If you ever want to find them, look up."

I used to climb up every night to find the edges. Every night I tried to reach higher and higher. Until the sun came up. I had learned the routes the night patrol took and I tried to avoid them. I would hide in the thick foliage, in the hollow holes in the trunks, lie on the thick branches. Every night I tried to find new and shorter routes, to reach high ground.

One of those nights I saw you. I was scared. I was afraid you'd seen me. I knew the consequences of being caught higher than where I belonged. I dove back in and back into my little pine cone. Hoping you hadn't noticed me.

I didn't forget you.

Every night since then I've been getting ready to meet you. I ran into you a few full moons later. I was more curious by then. Your clothes said you weren't part of the patrol teams. It was a color I'd never seen before. Now my curiosity had turned to you.

Had you seen me the first time? I wanted you to see me.

I'm trying to regulate my breathing, to synchronize my movement with the sounds of the foliage so you wouldn't hear me. I wanted you to hear me.

I watched you jump from leaf to leaf. I want so badly to follow you.

As time passed, the distance between us grew shorter. I couldn't take my eyes off you. I couldn't see your figure clearly. You stopped abruptly and I lost my balance. Now you've definitely seen me.

I lost my temper. I tried not to show that I was afraid.

- What are you doing here?

You didn't answer me, you just took a few extra minutes to share the space. It gave me a chance to process you. You had a glow to your skin, your face round and then I thought your figure was dark.

Later, when I got closer to you, I could see other details. The freckles on your shoulder, the dimple in your chin, the lines in your palm. It was after a few nights that you spoke to me first.

Where do you belong? My parents are of the generation of the weavers of the great weeping willow.

One question at a time and you always go first.

Then you'd leave.

I couldn't recognize where you were from. Each time I said the next time I'd ask you and get an answer, but you beat me to it with their own questions.

What's your name - Calypso? How old are you? - 16 years old of Willow. What's your favorite color? - The color of the leaves when autumn comes.

I didn't worry you'd report me anymore. Every night you sat up a little longer. Every night I looked for the courage to ask you about everything.

Today is the feast of the oaks. Since morning all the communities have been gathering, cooking, preparing drinks and decorating. One of the three is celebrated, the one responsible for our well-being, for the fruit of the trees. The great oak tree will be illuminated today by all the stars. The legends say that if you want to find the Temples, today the light of the stars will guide you.

I knew everyone would be having fun today. On all the branches there will be people drinking, singing and dancing. Everyone will be chasing each other until late. Today is my chance to go high and come back without them knowing I'm gone.

I tied my shoelaces, gathered my hair into a high bun, put the map in the back pocket of my pants. I folded it four times, making it small, if they saw it they would know where I was going. When I went outside, everyone was talking loudly, singing or telling stories. No one would pay any attention to me.

It was easy to get through the high layers of willow. I knew them. It was my tree, the one I had explored the most. Two turns to the right and already the music is lower. The branch that connected my tree to the big oak was now in my line of sight.

All straight ahead, to come out into the side outer foliage. I wanted to see the stars illuminate the path I must follow.

Now I am running. I can feel my blood flowing faster.

Adrenaline isn't it called? That feeling that - broken twig, careful not to catch my clothes. I never understood who was taking care of all those alleys.

Nobody, I guess.

We don't have to, we fly a few inches above the branches. Maybe today I'll make it.

I was embarrassed in front of you again. I hadn't noticed you were at the end of the joint. I bumped into you. Now we shared the same gender and our distances are shorter than a pine cone. I breathed, I didn't take my eyes off you. Neither did you. I turned my head left and right to make sure we were alone. I only recognized your calm voice, while you had heard me nervous - like now - scared - like the first time we met - embarrassed - all the times I answered all your questions-

-Why are you here?

Your calm voice

I had given you enough information about me and you always asked for more. I wanted so badly to keep this one for myself. You impressed me, I felt you were paying attention to me. No, I just couldn't hold my thoughts when I found you.

I had stopped climbing the trees to find the temples. I had started looking for you. I don't know why, and I would never know, but I wanted us to share space even if I never reached the heights.

I couldn't say that.

- I'm chasing myths, looking for the temples that made us

I couldn't normally say that either. It slipped out of me. I wanted to keep you around, even if I didn't know why.

- You're looking for me!

I'm looking for you.

written by Xenia Parastatidou. this is a machine-translation, later edited by humans.

photos: Fani Tranou | featuring: Stella Parastatidou, Christos Vogiatzis | graphic design: Stratos Politis | a&r: Konstantinos Karaiskos

#zine #short story #greek posts #adverbzine #red room #read #escape #love story

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lost-kingsmen · 7 months

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Another knife clattered onto the pile, and Gawain silently watched it slide down to the bottom, leaving a trail of sticky, semi-translucent goo of indeterminate origin as it did. Bran coughed up another mysterious object from her bottomless stomach, and examined it for a few seconds before huffing and tossing the Daily Planet pen among the other discards.

"Branwen..." Gawain said slowly. "Why do you have so many knives?"

[If I am stabbed with a knife,] Bran emphasized her thoughts with the sound of unsheathing metal overheard from the little vigilante that ran over the rooftops. [Without my consent, then I believe I should be allowed to keep the knife.]

"How many times have you been stabbed?" Gawain's tone was decidedly concerned now as Bran coughed up another blade - this time long and serrated, with a well-worn grip and a series of notches carved into the leather. "Who's trying to stab you!?”

[Idiots.] Chopper scoffed, and pawed an item free of the pile to roll it around between her paws. The cufflinks didn't roll very well, despite their circular shape, but she liked the way the light bounced off the embedded gems in the shape of two 'L's. [And ghost hunters. There's a surprising amount of overlap.]

[Guys, you're making him upset.] Griflet complained as he climbed up the back of Gawain's cloak, claw over claw, to stretch across his shoulders and nuzzle against his mask. [It was a long time ago, boss. Humans were just a lot more stabby back then.]

"And they're not now?" Gawain sounded no less concerned, but he did seem to relax a little, and brought one hand up to scratch behind Griflet's spines.

[Oh, no, they are.] Chopper batted the cufflinks into the pile just as Bran coughed up a small mouthful of bullet casings. [They just got more shooty instead.] Gawain went rigid as the little metal canisters rained down the sides of the pile and rolled around at his feet, but before he could lose his cool again, Bran coughed once more, and finally hacked up the item she had been looking for.

[Oh boy, does that ever feel better!] The little spirit sat up on her hind legs and held up the bundle of tangled, glowing golden rope to her master. [All the magic in this thing was giving me a tummyache.]

"Is that the bloody Lasso of Truth." Gawain was well on his way to finding out if a ghost could still have a heart attack. "How-? How did you get your hands on the bloody Lasso of Truth?!"

[Slurped it.] Bran shrugged, unsure where the confusion was happening. It all seemed very obvious, to her. [Like magic spaghetti.]

"Magic spa-." Gawain stopped himself mid-word and whispered something in shock. The hand that had been reaching for Griflet's spines moved toward his head, only for his fingers to clank off his helmet, as if they'd forgotten it was there. With no hair to nervously card through, Gawain moved his hand back to Griflet instead. "Bran, sweetie, you can't just-. We have to give this back!"

[Hey, getting rid of this thing is the whole reason I coughed it up!] Bran protested, insulted over the insinuation that she was a petty thief. She was, but only in matters of the tasty and edible. Gawain reached out to take the tangled bundle of rope and frantically began to work out the knots. Bran - taking this as her cue to 'pack up' - dove into her pile and began munching it all down again.

"People already think we're a bloody bouncer with the way Mayor Aether drags us around to public functions." Gawain worried as he dropped the now-untangled rope and began winding it up around his arm. "Do you want people to think we're crimi-...nals...?" He trailed off just as he was wrapping up the last of the rope, and slowly looked up from the shadow that had appeared on the concrete roof to the tall, imposing figure that had come down from the sky.

"I believe you have something of mine." Said Wonder Woman with a stern frown. Gawain was reminded uncomfortably of his mother when he'd brought home his one and only 'C-'.

"Ah...that we do." He held out the lasso, and didn't move an inch until Wonder Woman had taken it back. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sure." The goddess fastened the rope back to her belt, still frowning, and then leapt off the roof without another word. Gawain watched her fly away until she was just a dark speck on the darkening horizon, and then slowly turned around to glare at Bran. The little spirit popped the last remaining object from her pile - an old, faded decoder ring with peeling stickers and the worn out letters 'JGA' on the band - and gave her master a sheepish smile.

#mun’s writing #[[Lost Little Astronaut]] - Gawain #[[Three Ghost Lizards in a Trenchcoat]] -Reptilitones #[[Lasso Lady]] - Wonder Woman #((unrelated to the poll))#((I just got inspired and now we’re here))#((chalk up another hit to Gawain’s hero reputation))

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displacedarchon · 1 year

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Side Quest Chapter 10: The Ul’dah Convoy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44147433/chapters/114665818 (Up to chapter 30 is already posted on Ao3 but I negleeeected to keep things updated here. HEEHOO OOPS As always, intro paragraph front and center with the rest of the chapter below the cut!)) Why have one emissary when you can have four? Her restless night lingered on her mind as she stepped out of the Admiral’s office. She hoped she hadn’t seem too tired during the meeting; if the Admiral had noticed her exhaustion she had said naught.

“Lingering in the Admiral’s office? What did she want to see you for?” Resin eyed Himi as she rejoined the group by the main Aetheryte in Limsa Lominsa. Raubahn had tasked all four with Emissary duty; which seemed like three people too many to Van. Then again, he had an inkling the true purpose of this mission was to introduce the other three to the Admiral and Elder Seed-Seer. And despite the missed Voidsent battle, Tamru and Resin had helped locate Lilira, as well as a myriad of other tasks, hence their involvement as emissaries. They, including Himi, were already being compared to the Warriors of Light that’d vanished from the memory and Eorzea five years prior. A comparison Van wasn’t overly fond of, for reasons he kept to himself.

“Oh, you know, she and I were just having a good flirt.” Himi clicked her tongue.

“Truly?”

“... No.” Himi bapped Resin’s shoulder. “It means that it’s none of your business, that’s what. Though she did tell me to tell you, Van, that you should stop being a baby and come with us to Gridania.” Himi flashed a cheeky grin. “She did NOT use those words!” Van squeaked, ears shooting up.

“You’re right! It was more of a... lighten up, and stop brooding!” Himi did her best impression of the Admiral. Tamru and Resin snorted, Van’s ears flicked back.

“Alright, THOSE words I believe.” He admitted. Himi flashed a cheeky grin, spotting a familiar face in the crowd. She shifted slightly to confirm that it was indeed Jacke beckoning her to follow him. Van saw her staring and turned to see what’d caught her attention. But Jacke was already gone, in a blink-and-you-missed-it moment.

“Hang on a bell; there’s something else I need to take care of while we’re here.” She hummed.

“Is aught amiss?” Resin gave Himi a head tilt.

“I’ll let you know!” she finger gunned, vanishing into the bustling crowd. Van had half a mind to follow her, but he knew he couldn’t leave the other two to their own devices in an unfamiliar port. Home was so close! And yet, he still could not return.

Himi eyed the ocean wearily as she meandered down to the docks less traveled. A fog had rolled in, and she really hoped she wasn’t about to get jumped.

“Thought I peeped a familiar bran-faced dove!” Jacke was suddenly, just, THERE, right next to her. Himi jumped, and would’ve given his arm a proper wallop, had he not caught her wrist. “Tha’s on me. Didn’t mean t’startle ye.” He offered a sheepish grin as he surrendered her hand.

“Sorry, I’m... sorry.” She peered at the water before turning her attention to him. “So! You beckoned? It’s Jacke, right? Trying to recruit me?” She winked.

“Aye and nay; I think Thancred would box mi ears if I made a sister out o' ye, but there was some bullshite while ye were gone. Word has it yer th’ type o’person who is wont t’help folks. Got a moment?” He quirked his head to the side.

“I need to get to Gridania; depends on how long the moment is.”

“Glad I caught ye then; c’mere.” He beckoned for her to follow him, again, leading her inside of the guildhall. Ffion gave Himi a wide grin as she stepped through the door.

“Siren’s piss! There’s a face I was startin’ t’think I’d never see again! How you feelin’?” Ffion strode to Himi, plopping a hand on her head and giving her hair a playful ruffle.

“Well, still can’t remember fuck all but I’ve got one of my job stones back, at least.” Himi shrugged, offering a small grin. She noticed that Ffion had swapped her purple coat for a green woolen shirt, and her pistol for a pair of daggers.

“Least the Twelve’s given ye a bit o’luck.” Ffion sighed, crossing her arms. “Jacke tell ye yet what’s happened?”

“Noooooo?” Himi turned her head to Jacke. He bore a serious expression as he recounted the events from the other night.

“Some devil toddled right onto Ffion’s ship an’ backed her crew. Blink o’yer eye an’ they were all dustmen. Wasn’t a bell later we discovered other city-folk been put in th’ coolcrapes.” He shook his head, not noticing Himi was glancing up at Ffion, hoping for a translation.

“A lot’o people died because of a spooky fellow.” Ffion bit on her lip, ruffling Himi’s hair again.

“Ah! OH! Well shit. Did Nald’thal have a beef with Limsa Lominsa suddenly?”

“Who’s t’say!” Ffion shrugged.

“Ye said ye had t’ get to Gridania, so I won’t keep ye. Tha said; mind findin’ out if Gridania’s had a surge of people suddenly croakin’? An assumin’ yer returnin to Ul’dah at some point, mind askin’ round there as well?”

“M-me? Why me?” Himi took a step back; it wasn’t an unreasonable request, but it was so...odd? Out of nowhere? Would she have to keep this mission secret from the others? Probably, otherwise they’d most likely be there as well.

“We’ve got our hands full.” Jacke gave her a sheepish smile. “And I trust ye.”

“Er...” She really been hoping to return to Ul’dah immediately after finishing in Gridania as she wanted to find Thancred. But he asked, and she really didn’t have it in her to say no. “Would be happy to!” She smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

“’Preciate it, dove! I won’t keep ye any longer, off with ye!” Jacke flashed a smile before she bowed and exited. Once she’d left the guild hall, he crossed his arms. “That up to yer standards, pretty boy?” He glanced towards the stairwell with a furrowed brow as Thancred strode into view.

“Works well enough for me.”

“So what’s the verdict?” Ffion murmured. “Spyin’ on us, or spied on them?”

“I’m fairly certain she was truly, spying on them, or some form of Empire Spy countermeasure. Given her penchant for uncovering information and corruption, even if she claims it was all unintentional.” Thancred leaned against the wall. “That said, I’ve still not uncovered anything concerning any group suddenly missing, or missing a member. At least not in Eorzea. But I can’t exactly take a trip into Empire territory to investigate now can I?” He murmured, shaking his head. “We’re assuming, of course, she was a spy at all.” He sighed. “She could’ve been many things, honestly. Captive, conscript...”

“Plenty o’mysteries for th’ sisters to solve.” Jacke mused. “Best get yerself gone too, I reckon. ‘Fore she’s in an out o’Gridania before ye even shove off.” Jacke shooed Thancred out of the guildhall.

Van had to give Resin’s arm a good yank to get them off the airship in Gridania. They’d been quite insistent about not returning; but if Van was stuck babysitting the budding Warriors of Light, Resin couldn’t duck out of traveling to the city tucked deep in the Black Shroud. Resin swiftly pulled their hood over their face and shrunk down as much as possible as Van and Tamru marched on ahead.

“You alright?” Himi nudged Resin’s arm.

“GODS, pray, don’t tell anyone. Understand that I left Gridania for a reason. My aunt and uncle still dwell here but...”

“Buut?”

“We’re...” He winced. “From Ishgard. Toussaint. Minor Noble House but still...Y’know.”

“Ah! Don’t want people asking you for gil?” She winked.

“Fury, you can have it all!” He laughed. “No, simply... A lot of family trouble. Which is not unheard of in Ishgard, I realize. I’m not as fair skinned as most others that hail from the Coerthas so it’s oft challenging to withhold what house I’m a part of when I’m there. But here? I could be from any family, so long as I don’t share my last name. But, ah! I don’t wish to get into it. Suppose I just needed to confess to someone to assist me in maintaining the secret.” Resin didn’t catch the way her eyes glistened at the request.

“Secret is safe with me!” She put a finger to her lips.

“I appreciate it.” Resin smiled, attuning with the main Aetheryte before pursuing Van and Tamru as they wandered towards the conjurer’s guild. “I see they seem to be keen to leave here as well, they’re not delaying for either of us.” Himi snorted and shook her head.

“Welcome to my fucking world.” She mumbled before striking up a new conversation with Resin.

Himi had difficulty maintaining a neutral face upon discovering how frail and prone to illness the Emperor was from the Seed-Seer; there was unquestionably no reason she should feel so worried! Yet, maybe worried wasn’t the right word? But it absolutely unnerved her. Of all the people to fuss over! Why would she be so upset–ah! The conference was over. Himi had become so absorbed in fretting that she almost didn’t notice the others taking their leave.

“My friend; is there something on your mind?” Kan-E-Senna gave Himi a cordial smile; she’d caught how distant she had appeared the past few minutes.

“Oh! I. Ah.” Himi bowed, feeling silly. There was NO way she’d admit to being troubled over the Emperor; thankfully Jacke had unintentionally given her a cover. “Sorry for the, possibly alarming question, Seed-Seer. But have you heard of any strange deaths lately? Like people who weren’t sick or elderly suddenly dying?”

“Hm...” Kan-E-Senna clutched her staff as she perused her memories.

“Not that I am aware of. However; I can inquire with the Wood Wailers and Twin Adders if they’ve heard of any such deaths. Pray, Is there aught I should know?”

“I don’t know; mostly trying to assess if an incident elsewhere is isolated or not. If they haven’t heard of any such deaths occurring, you don’t need to hunt me down to inform me. I’ll take the lack of contact to mean that all is well.”

“I see!” Kan-E-Senna smiled. “Well, if I hear aught of anything peculiar, I shall see to it that any and all relevant information is relayed to you swiftly.” She placed a hand on her chest and bowed. Himi flashed a thumbs up before energetically hopping from stump to stump as she departed the Lotus.

“Are you always going to make us await you?” Van bellyached as he leaned on his staff.

“I’m more surprised you haven’t fucked off back to Limsa yet.”

“Well, I was about to just leave; then we got a message that something in Limsa requires our attention.” He grumbled. “Collective our. They want all four of us.”

“Oh.” Himi wondered if more people had died. “Well, why don’t we skip the airship and just teleport over? We’re all attuned, and it’d go faster.” Himi slipped the bracelet from her wrist.

“Fine by me.” Van relaxed, though no less irritated.

“Last one there’s a rotten egg!” Himi blipped away before anyone could object to her challenge.

“You don’t even know-! AUGH.” Van internally cursed as Resin and Tamru disappeared while he complained. “Oh, they’ll never let me hear the end of this.”

Himi held her job stone up to the sun, inspecting it curiously; despite having their new task, the ferry was currently undergoing some much needed maintenance, so they were forced to wait a bell or two. The other three opted to gather some supplies from Hawker’s alley while she waited by the Aetherite. Worry for the Emperor still lingered in the back of her mind like a terrible memory. He was old; people get sick more often when they get old. It was normal, and fine, and a good thing, right? The empire was bad. Her stone glittered oddly, and the Echo soon overwhelmed her senses.

He sat at his desk in silence. Head resting in his fingertips as his eyes stared past the paperwork that lay before him. He didn’t flinch at the knock on his door, nor did he move when she entered his room via a wisp of darkness.

“Emet, I just heard. I’m so sor-” He cut her off with a quick flash of his palm.

“Where. Have. You. Been?” His bitterness dripped from his monotone voice as his sharp gaze slowly fell upon her.

“I was tying up some loose ends with my previous life, but that doesn’t matter right now. Emet, have you eaten? Drank? What can I do to ease your burden? What do you need?” Her honied voice burst with empathy, she meant every word and was so ready to smother him with care and affection. But her kindness felt like a poisoned dagger in his chest, her words taunting him.

“What I need…” Emet-Selch balled his hand into a fist. “Is to understand one, simple thing.” He slammed that fist onto the desk. “Of ALL the times for you to be absent! Of ALL the times for you to wander off to a… meaningless false life you. Picked. Now.” he pointed at her accusingly, voice dropping into a growl.

“I-I…” She wrung her hands together, shrinking down in her armor. “I’m sorry! If I had known I would have come back faster; but I’m not a miracle worker! I didn’t hold the seat of Emmerololth. Medicine isn’t my specialty!” She protested, feeling guilty at her very, very poor timing. She realized how suspicious it must have looked; he was so used to betrayal by now and she HAD proclaimed years prior she was determined to ‘foil’ his plans. Emet-Selch raised his hands, admitting defeat.

“You’re right, you’re right. What could you have possibly done?” He slammed his palms down onto his desk, rising so fast from his seat the chair toppled and hit the floor with a loud bang. She flinched, but didn’t budge from her spot. “I can’t imagine what the person who holds the seat of Azem, the traveler who helps people, could have done to help someone who needed her!” He pointed at her. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. You walked away from your duties thousands of lifetimes ago!” A fake laugh escaped his lips. “Well, it’s no wonder that you’re never around anymore when people need you! ...Never around when I need you! This makes t...” No, that was too low of a blow he decided, stopping himself from blaming her for another child’s death.

“Th-that’s not fair! I’m so sorry about Lucius, but that’s… he’s not… this isn’t our old world, Emet-Selch. People get sick more, and they die younger. Sometimes parents outlive their children and it’s not fair. And it hurts. It will always hurt; unless the child was a little shit and you didn’t like them at all - but you can’t blame me for him dying! He got sick, he just… got sick. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, but I’m here now.” Her voice wavered. He glanced at the wall, at nothing in particular, clenching his jaw as he tried to find the words. He shut his eyes and covered his face with his hand to hide the tears that dared pooled in his eyes. She cautiously approached him, gingerly reaching out to pull him into a hug. She vaguely remembered a time when they were similar in height, but these days, her head barely touched his chin. He didn’t return the affection at first, but it took only a moment of silent embrace before he dropped his forehead on her shoulder and draped his arms around her. “I’m here. I’m here.” She whispered softly.

“What is the point of this existence if it’s naught but suffering?” He hissed. “What is the point of saving anything so fragile? Just when I was beginning to think that this world, these people… No! A fool I was to think that any of this was worthy to succeed all we’ve lost!” He paused. “All I’VE lost.”

“Noo! No no no! Don’t say that,” She rocked him gently, ignoring the switch from we to I for the moment. “Think of all you still have! You’re still a father, a grandfather! You still have a... morally questionable Empire, but we can keep working on that last one.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does! It all matters!”

“Useless, fleeting…”

“Things MUST be fleeting, or there is no cycle!” She pulled away, gripping his upper arms and trying to look him in his eyes. “So long as we have that; we have everything. There is still h-”

“Ohhh SPARE me your… whatever the hell it is you think you’re saying.” Emet-Selch rolled his eyes and removed himself from her grip. “You think yourself silver tongued like Hythlodaeus? Hm? Do you even remember him? Or are all of those memories conveniently wasting away in another unworthy shard on some pathetic, pale reflection’”

“… When did you get so mean?”

“Hmn. An excellent question. I think, somewhere between losing the world and people I loved thousands of years ago and my so- this vessel’s son dying; I may have gotten a little bitter.” He shot her a sour look.

“I’m sorry that Hythlodaeus isn’t here,” she didn’t want to admit that he was right, she didn’t remember him. “... and that I’m only six... parts here but please don’t… give up on everything so soon!”

“So soon?” His jaw dropped. “SO SOON?” His voice pitched. “I’ve lived a thousand, thousand lifetimes on this… MISERABLE world and you DARE tell me I am ‘giving up’ too soon?” He stepped back and pointed to the door.

“Leave.”

“…Hades!”

“You will refer to me as Emperor Solus or Your Radiance. You have lost, nay, you never had the right to call me by that name. Go, live your deluded, wretched false life filled with chaos and turmoil that you seem to revel in. I have nothing more to say to you. Not today, not ever.”

“W-what!? Just like that? He dies and suddenly all value you saw is lost and you want me out of your life? That’s not going to make it better! That’s not going to make you happy!”

“OUT.” He raised his voice.

She clenched her jaw and fought back tears. “You’re a proper bastard! To think that I…!” She shook her head as her face twisted in anger. “I hate you!” She stomped her foot. “So much!” She pulled out a dark purple stone and tossed it at him. He easily snatched it out of the air, quirking a brow as he stared at the Black Mage stone he had gifted her several lifetimes ago. With a huff, she turned and stomped into a swirl of darkness He scoffed, amused.

“You’ve said as much before.” He mumbled, slowly walking towards his desk with shoulders slumped. He fixed his chair and sat, rubbing his forehead. “You can’t possibly mean that, don’t be so cruel… that’s what you’d be saying right now, wouldn’t you Hythlodaeus?” He muttered out loud, stroking the stone with his thumb for a moment before holding it up to peer into it. She was right; the idea of never seeing her again didn’t make him feel better. But he was in no mood to chase after her to apologize. As the stone glittered and shined in the ambient light, he contemplated other means of making amends.

Instructions on how to use a new spell whispered in her mind as the memory ended.

“Oi, dove! You alright there?” Ffion clasped her hand on Himi’s shoulder, pulling her out of the Echo.

“Yeeeess. Just. Er.” Himi’s face flushed as she pocketed the stone. “Lost in thought, I suppose.” She grinned. Ffion had a feeling Himi was keeping a secret; but she wouldn’t pry. For now.

#final fantasy xiv fanfic #jacke swallow #emet-selch

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