#the people who actually know more about vessels and have met hollow are the only ones who really know ghost's age for certain. like hornet

[abyssembraced]

((Quick heads up that my portrayal of Ghost might seem a little inconsistent for a little bit. There are a couple things I'm not super satisfied with right now))

[cryptidblue1]

akdadjadf I got distracted by XIV hangout, starrail, and work. But! We now gonna actually talk about the Imbalanced AU aka the counterpart to Balance AU.

Okay so Unbalanced basically keeps the scope of the fact that gods need to be balanced, but instead of passing the stop fighting one another challenge they kept the same sort of attitude as they do in canon. Where they have that itch to find a balance, but most don't realize that is what it is and instead think they need to have more people worship them and such.

So this means a lot of things kinda happen the same as canon because these higher beings are looking for something, but are going about it the wrong way. So, everything up to Pale King arriving happens the same. Then the vessel project is proposed when Radi starts infecting people after the Moth Tribe left her.

The eggs are placed into the Abyssal Sea and that sort of stirs the Void because that spark of Light from the children in the eggs while weak due to being unborn is enough to sort of cause the connection to form. Sadly, since it is children of the Light not even born yet, the Void is basically eating them in an attempt form this link to balance itself. So while again most of the vessels don't make it, a nice group do manage to survive long enough to see Pale King's light. Though because of the Void basically trying to find what it is missing through the vessels, it fundamentally changes them in way that isn't just the void taking over the body of these kids.

This is where things slowly start to change from canon since this spark means that the vessels kinda have their own network/hivemind with one another. Which aides them in their kinda nonchalant way of dealing with their siblings returning to the void sea, since they're still connected because they are all just one part of the void after all. Though since they still have spark of Light from their first parents they actually have more distinct personalities from the onset. Which makes it a lot harder for Pure Vessel to pretend to be empty when they climbed up and met the Pale King. PV actually following along because the spark in them was basically using instinct to try and balance not only themself to Pale King, but balance the Void with the Light from both the Pale King and White Lady, hence why they didn't just wander away.

Which is what their other siblings did when Ghost sorta fell and found another way out when Pale King closed the doors to the void sea.

So while Pure Vessel is being raised into whatever a Hollow Knight is. Because a lot of why the vessels didn't go !!! over this is that remember they basically have no idea what is going on when they first got out of the void and only know things as one another learns about it. So by the time they kinda got an idea of what was in store for the Pure Vessel it was too late. In fact at first when the sealing happens they are a bit confused and worried, but PV is still able to talk to them as they kinda just sunk themselves into the void and connection to their siblings upon being sealed.

So because PV is basically out of reach of Radi at first while sealed due to this connection and the siblings basically shielding them from her. The infection seems to have fully stopped as the Pale King wanted. Only it was more a stopgap because as we know vessels are not truly empty. However, this respite is seen as a great success and the Kingdom starts to flourish a bit more. (Meaning that despite their guilt both royals have to remain and run the kingdom.

This of course leads to a lot of rumors since the other vessels are roaming the kingdom or out of it and I feel that the feel of Void is kinda there, but like subtle if you don't know what it is. So they all feel a bit off, and maybe those who worked in the palace when the sealed vessel was being raised and trained may start to connect the feeling of these free roaming vessels to the sealed vessel after a time. Which likely is going to alarm the hell out of PK because there was only one vessel, he made sure of that after all.

Bonus points in this is that the other vessels also 'grow up' too like PV since they are out and about, and because I feel this void network between them would also share power so the Light PV was soaking up being around PK and WL, mostly PK because I feel he'd have been more hands on with them then WL. Though ofc they all like have differing heights and such since they had that spark of individuality from the Light of PK they were born with that they managed to keep when they got assimilated/adopted/bonded to the void.

So after a time of everyone thinking everything is going perfectly and nothing can go wrong, Radi kinda figured out why she couldn't like even get a sliver of control on something she knew on some level was alive and had a will, because everything living dreams in some way no matter what. So she realizes and thus does the one thing to get you on the Shit List of every void touched being under the sun.

She starts to rip Pure Vessel's being out of the hivemind/network with the other vessels. The shock of this and suddenly actually coming into actual contact with Radiance in their mind is what causes the Event that starts canon off. As well as basically send every vessel into a feral state because She STOLE one of their own. Dying is one thing all return to the void and are still connected, even if distant and muffled, yet what she did ripped one of their own away from them. There is now just a gaping wound like empty space in their network, yet they know the one missing is alive, but they don't know what is happening to their now lost kin. Add in the infection is starting to show up again, causing the non void bugs to start freaking out as well, and well, yeah. things start to go bad, doubly so since Hallownest is still a living kingdom by this point instead of being dead like in canon. Which makes it when Ghost and a few other Vessels come kicking down the door and basically going "What did all of you DO!?"

(Not me giggling and picturing the vessel network like a discord server and all of them freaking the fuck out when Pure Vessel kinda just poofs out completely)

Though, yeah because of this. Things kinda wildly, but not really diverge since Ghost is still going to be kicking down doors to fix this, but there are now actual people who are like "We kinda live her pls stahp" as well as there being other living siblings also likely helping to kick down doors. Which kinda leads into them being lead to Seer due to them wanting their sibling back and going "Nope" at anyone suggesting killing Pure Vessel and one of them taking their place as the only solution. And this causes a bit of an odd resonance when Ghost kinda attunes to the Dream Nail because while this is all going down Pure Vessel is kinda trying to fucking survive being alone in their own head for the first time in ever and dealing with the raging screeching of the sun moth that is clearly half mad from the isolation caused by her not being able to influence Pure Vessel since the time of the sealing until now. This madness and the fact that she is so unbalanced is causing Pure Vessel to kinda instinctively attempt to do what the Void did to them and their siblings when they were placed in the Abyss Sea, and thus they are kinda devouring her power without realizing it. Which was not something anyone really thought about, despite the fact that Void is you know, meant to be what all things will return to.

So like you kinda should have thought on that, but then again when your only plan was to sacrifice your children to the void in hopes one would become a perfect automaton of void soup...well...

But yeah, Ghost is attuning to the Dream Nail and basically, even with Pure Vessel being cut off is still void so still semi connected and thus is being balanced by Ghost becoming more intuned and strengthening said nail due to them basically taking the spark of Light they got from WL and PK and infusing it with the Light of Radi that they are kinda taking away in their attempts to get her out of their being and use it to once more reconnect with the rest of their siblings.

A side effect of this is that instead of using said nail to fight and kill the dreamers it kinda connects Ghost to them, and for a brief bit Pure Vessel as well and so they kinda try to figure out a way to not have to you know, solve everything with murder, and this kinda makes Hornet even more on their side since this means there is a chance that Herrah can live, and so Ghost kinda ferries info between the dreamers as they kinda plot and figure things out, this also kinda bleeds power from Radi as well since it's now feeding into both Pure Vessel and Ghost. Ghost who is then feeding it to the rest of the siblings vie the hivemind and this is draining a lot of the power Radi had since she is actually being opposed in a way. Which means when Ghost figures out a way to open the Egg without killing the dreamer.

(Don't know the method of such. Kinda a nebulous idea that some of the siblings had gone on adventures and learned more mystical and arcane knowledge and so kinda cobble together some weird concoction of foreign magic to create temporary shields to keep the infection at bay, but let the dreamers be woken up to physically unseal the egg. IDK it's kinda a nebulous idea right now.)

So when the Egg is opened there is no puppet fight of Radi using PV as weapon, but there is a scuffle because she is trying to take control, but PV doesn't need to do the whole stab myself thing to break the control. Though he probably does throw himself at a wall a time or two trying to fight Radi for control during this. And holding PV down is purely to make sure Radi can't do a surprise take over as Ghost charges up the Nail to go fight Radi in the dreamscape. There PV is also there to help from the start, though it's not like a lot of help because they've been in a constant back and forth with Radi since she snatched him out of the void link and into the dreamscape proper. Yet, he can do enough that the siblings together can drive her into a corner allowing PV to reconnect with the rest of the siblings and thus kinda giving them a path into the dreamscape to do the whole Void vs. Light showdown in the Dream no More ending. Only they don't all fucking die afterwards. They all just go back to their bodies afterwards.

Of course PV is banged up and exhausted after all of this and Hornet kinda has to drag both of these tall assholes out of the Egg, at least until someone else shows up to help who may have been waiting at the edge of the infected zone.

What PK is doing, and thus the Knights is kinda hazy to me outside of PK having a crisis of faith when the infection starts again, denial when the vessels start popping out of the woodwork all feral and angry over what was done to their sibling, going into depression when they finally accept they basically set their child up to die a second time when they sealed PV away, and kinda being forced to cope enough with all of this to keep the kingdom going and not go into full bedlam if they think their king is gone. Then going into a depressed panic when they realize these vessels, these children that were meant to be theirs did what he couldn't and he has no idea how to address not only that but them as a whole. Because let us all be real, PK probably got attached to PV when raising them to be a Hollow Knight and he just got good at burying those feelings under the weight of This Must Be Done.

So what happens once everyone has time to heal and the vessels to realize they kinda are now connected to the void, but also the dreamscape is kinda hazy to me. Since a lot of different things could go down. (PV and Ghost are the most connected to dreams due to blatant reasons, and thus are now kinda able to visit people in the dreamscape as well as the physical world. The vessels are also just void shadows in the dream world so that's a fun thing to suddenly see randomly stroll through your dream.)

I also kinda have this thought that since PV was kinda taking Radi's powers their physical form also sorta starts to slowly shift and be more moth like to show this, but instead of orange coloration they have like this void black with speckles of the White/Silver of their first parents, and like a darker shade of orange then what Radi used. Mostly because I want them to have these dark and fluffy moth wings that have the white, silver, and dark orange specks like stars sprinkled over them. Okay let me dream. I also feel that while they didn't lose an arm since the infection didn't have as long to drip out of them like in canon PV still gets the crack in their mask from when Radi yoinked them out of the void hivemind. Like a physical reminder of what she did and how horrible it was to all the siblings, but to PV in particular since they were completely alone when that happened.

I could probably add other random thoughts into this, but this is getting really long now.

[grollow]

been thinking about this often so maybe u have insight on it

what was the relationship between hollow knight and the pale king in your opinion? i just cant stop thinking about whether it was like one-sided yearning for parental love met with stoic professionalism, or just something else...

Oh boy. Oh BOY. I've written a really long fanfic where this is explored heavily, I have some THOUGHTS.

So I'm gonna put this under a cut as I believe one of our mutuals has not yet beaten Hollow Knight and I don't want to spoil them, but ah

Okay, so. Uh. The first thing you should know is that Hollow is one of my two favorite characters in HK and I have so many emotions about them so this is gonna be long. The second thing you should know is that if I had to attribute a quote to PK's personality, it would be "The ends justify the means."

PK's thing is clairvoyance. Foresight.

I firmly believe that extends to having seen exactly how things end. Toward that end, I do not believe that he ever expected Hollow to actually last through what happened. I believe fully that he knew that Hollow was a thinking, feeling entity. My best support for this theory is the existence of World Sense. What use would this have for someone who felt nothing? Why give your unthinking object the ability to know the state of the world, unless you believed they were thinking? This argument can also be attributed to the existence of the fountain as well. Why make a monument to something you think isn't really thinking, feeling? Why honor it?

The answer is guilt, my dudes.

I truly believe that the Pale King knew damn well that his plan was never going to work, not long term. It was a bandaid. I believe his foresight showed him Ghost's arrival. Potentially what he saw was the Dream No More future, or you could argue that he saw the continued stasis of Hallownest, each vessel replacing one another in an endless cycle (which would explain the number of them). But I lean into the idea that he saw Dream No More ending, and therefore only needed Hollow to live long enough for Ghost to finish the job.

I subscribe to the concept that PK loved Hollow. Loved them enough to give them insight into a world they were not a part of -- as a desperate act of mercy and apology for something that he considered monstrous. Loved them enough to build a statue in his capital for them, a statue they probably never saw, but that his people did every single day, in hopes that their sacrifice would be remembered while he himself disappeared from public view. His own fountain is hidden in an isolated corner. He didn't want to be remembered -- he wanted them to be, though.

I also believe that what we see in the Dream version of White Palace is a metaphor. I don't believe void really killed PK. I believe guilt killed PK. Consumed by the weight of his decisions, he found a cost too great to live with -- but he could not, would not, back down from saving his kingdom. He did what was necessary, in his eyes, but he knew it for the evil it was, because he is fucking brilliant, and he's not a monster. He's a person stuck in a no-win situation doing the best he can to try and do damage control.

Did he make the right choices? We'll never know. And the greatest tragedy of it all is that: wondering what might have been, if decisions were different.

I actually explored some of what I view PK's motivations to be in the cost of life, which is one of my one-shots. :>

[tetsurobunni]

The Final Battle

☞ harry potter x jjk crossover au // 3.9k words

☽ the battle of hogwarts: jjk style, remnants of satosugu friendship, pain, hurt, more pain…sigh… pure angst with a magical twist for flavor

☽ warnings : major character death

☽ pairing : satoru gojo x suguru getou

☞ my inner harry potter geek really came out full force with this one…so did my sad writer juices i apologize beforehand :)

“satoru….hey, professor nanami cast the spell to defend the school. it won’t be long…”

“i know. i’ll join you when it’s time.”

the illuminating sheen of the dome rose high over the towers of hogwarts. gojo could hear the hum radiating from it, the power from the spell glowing against the overcast sky.

this is it.

should he count his blessings? pray? to what deity, or god, or higher being should he speak to before his world comes crushing down?

gojo’s wand feels heavy in the palm of his hand, thumb gently grazing over the smooth spruce. he imagines the dragon heartstring at its core, the beast he knew lived inside.

he had seen it himself, his peers had too. how even before traveling to hogwarts in his first year just how powerful a wizard he was-and would grow up to be.

if only he knew where he would be in his seventh year. standing in front of the large oak doors leading to the great hall, his fellow students young and old rushing into place all around him, wiping their brows and preparing for a war.

a war that would cost gojo everything.

he knew who he would see on the other side of the battle. the image of his face made gojo’s stomach churn and his chest ache.

his best friend.

his only friend.

he felt a hand rest atop his left shoulder, the scuffed toes of professor nanami’s boots coming into view beside him. he met his professor’s eyes, receiving a small nod of acknowledgment. gojo had grown quite close to his professor throughout his years at hogwarts. he was one of the only people that had garnered gojo’s appreciation and trust.

nanami knew. he had watched all of them grow up, after all. he was the one who informed gojo of the news that sent him spiraling.

that was two years ago.

now, as voldemort rallied his followers and dark creatures of the forest, gojo knew he would face him again.

“the spell is weakening.”

“it was only a matter of time.”

“are you prepared?”

“no.”

“neither am i. but we must.”

with a pat on his shoulder the professor left his side, sheathing the oak wand in his sleeve.

“strength. endurance. tolerance. balance. practicality. that is what my wand stands for. each of you have your own unique wand that chose you; yes, the core of your wand does hold great power and meaning, but so does the wood that keeps it intact. it is a vessel. and it is strong.”

gojo remembers listening to his professor and thinking he was absurd. but his friend had watched on with glimmering eyes, thirsty for new knowledge, and he had decided that maybe the idea wasn’t all that abhorring.

“hawthorn. somewhat arrogant, reflection, intelligence, vigor, new beginnings or endings. feels most at home with a wizard of natural talent. wicked, eh satoru? what about yours?”

“ah, mines spruce. quick-witted, adaptable, flamboyant, strength, resistance, is known for its unusually fast reactions and somewhat stubborn nature in the hands of a nervous or untrained wizard or witch. good thing i’m not that, eh?”

“your wand is supposed to be stubborn? you’ve had no problems!”

“well of course i haven’t! i don’t remember a moment in my life where i’ve ever been nervous. no wonder…”

the conversation had drifted away in a few minutes, the flickering of the lantern lulling gojo to sleep. when he came to, the weight of a second robe rested on his shoulders. he had ignored the blush that rose on his cheeks and wiped drool from the corner of his mouth

gojo had looked down at the book that ended up as his makeshift pillow and found himself mindlessly reading more information. gojo had failed to mention the extra research he had done; it was innocent, just an extra flip of a page. what he read he never told.

‘although hawthorn is a very powerful wood, it is adept to curses. many of those who practise dark magic have been affiliated with wands made from hawthorn. they are not to be taken lightly in the wrong hands.’

he didn’t regret it then, but after he had gotten the news from nanami about what his friend did, the guilt ate him alive.

now as he looks out the castle doors to the cracks spindling in luminescence revealing the murky darkness of the stormy sky, gojo realizes that this might be his last day at hogwarts.

the realization is fleeting. he can’t afford to be thinking that way. not now. he feels the eyes of his classmates pouring into his being. they’re looking to him to save them.

you should just try to save yourselves.

itadori comes to stand to his right, fushiguro to his left. maki and nobara flank behind him.

this is is family. they all know their tie to one another. they’ve been training together for almost a year on their combat skills. itadori had been experiencing some difficulties, but nonetheless proved to be the closest match to gojo himself.

“holly. with a phoenix feather core. why?”

“just curious. look up what your wood means sometime, will ya?”

“yea…sure. not sure what that has to do with anything…”

gojo and professor nanami both had thought his wand would be made of dogwood- it matched itadori’s personality-the holly was a surprise. paired along with a phoenix feather core was practically unheard of.

but as the dark magic started to rise, itadori started to blossom. he was an amazing wizard.

gojo had his own hypotheses, but as always kept them to himself. no need to cause any further turmoil in his life.

“gojo?”

“you can call me satoru, y’know.”

“sure…gojo?”

“…yes itadori”

“i’m scared.”

gojo felt his heart clench. the boy beside him might be powerful, but still just that- a boy. he didn’t deserve this. none of them did.

“you can always back away. you know that, right?”

he watched as itadori looked across the bridge towards the darkness, then to his friends and classmates surrounding them.

“gojo?”

“hm?”

“are you scared?”

“no.” yes.

despite what lay ahead of them, itadori cracked a smile. “same as ever, eh?”

gojo forced the corners of his lips into a smirk. “you know it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

as soon as the remaining bits of professor nanami’s spell wore off, the fighting commenced. the huge stone knights began at the putrid giants that shook the ground as they walked, but, as expected, they didn’t hold for long.

there were hundreds of death eaters that immediately swarmed the entrance to the castle. gojo and the others had already gotten separated. he found himself looking for glimpses of them as he fought, power rushing through his veins as flashes of light shot through his vision.

one death eater after another fell to his wand. a goblin here. an enormous arachnid there. a shield spell shot itself from his wand to catch a pillar that threatened to fall on a young girl. gojo didn’t spare a second to marvel at how his wand seemed to act on its own.

itadori was nowhere to be found. nobara was matched against a witch he swore he had seen on the cover of a newspaper. she had been locked up in Azkaban for upwards of ten years.

a patronus he knew belonged to megumi weaved itself through the dust and dirt of the fight, closely followed by its darker counterpart. he made the mistake of watching the white wolf too closely in its decent over one of the towers and felt the breath get knocked from his chest as he flew backwards into a wall.

he coughed weakly into his hand, rubbing the blood that surfaced there onto his pants. the wall he flew into crumbled around him. he wasn’t sure who had landed a blow on him, but whoever it was had to be powerful.

only three people had ever managed to conquer such a thing, and two of them were currently fighting for hogwarts.

gojo petrified a lone death eater that had tried to sneak up on his left. he quickly ran over to the frozen body to lift the mask, though he knew it wasn’t who he was searching for.

“gojo, on the bridge!”

the yell had come from megumi, whom he saw battling three death eaters at once. after quickly disarming one them, gojo turned towards the bridge.

a flash of pink hair caught his attention. he watched as itadori seemingly chased after someone and raised his wand to cast his patronus to follow him. he stopped in his tracks when he saw a figure across the ravine.

it was him.

gojo’s hands shook with a ferocity no one had seen before. his wand illuminated the battlefield so bright many had to shield their eyes. the fighting ceased for only a moment as everyone turned to look at the being that stood in place of gojo satoru.

the short silence was broken when a death eater sent a curse flying towards nobara. a flick of gojo’s wrist was all it took for the death eater to fall in a heap on the ground, dead.

gojo’s entire being felt laced with ice. he knew he would see him. he knew. so why…

why did it hurt so badly?

screams and cries fell on deaf ears as gojo made his way across the crumbling bridge towards the forest. his hands trembled at his sides, legs weak as they carried the weight of this moment.

the figure had seen him and immediately dissipated into thick black smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~

the forbidden forest had never scared gojo. he actually found comfort in the deep hollows and twisted roots that overcame the dense woods. he spent a lot of time here throughout the years even though students weren’t allowed.

his feet led him along the familiar pathway he had taken numerous times before. a lone centaur raced towards the castle, not sparing gojo a second glance. he had long since become acquaintances with the creatures of the forest.

“gojo!”

“itadori? what in the- what are you doing out here? you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“i saw voldemort go into the forest so i-“

“well, what a sight.”

gojo’s eyes widened as he registered the voice that came from behind him. itadori looked over his shoulder in confusion; when he saw who the voice belonged to, his face morphed into a look of pure rage.

“itadori. this is my battle.”

“but-“

“you need to leave.”

“no, no i’m not just going to leave you here-“

“yuuji? wow, it’s been a while… you’ve grown.”

gojo turned to face the voice, visibly wincing as his eyes landed on his old best friend.

“satoru”

“suguru.”

getou had gotten taller since he last saw him. a scar ran across the length of his forehead and his hair had grown longer.

i always said his hair would look good long.

“i can feel the power radiating from you, satoru…it’s delicious. my lord will be quite pleased to meet you”

“your ‘lord’ can kiss my ass.”

getou chuckled, “no need to be vulgar”

gojo’s hand clenched around his wand. one spell and this could be over, but it would be irreversible. even though gojo knew getou wasn’t the same person he was a year ago, he still trembled at the thought of his old friend not being alive.

“gojo-“

“no, let him stay awhile satoru! it’ll be so much more fun”

itadori sneered at getou before pointing his wand towards him. gojo could see the slight shaking of his hand. he was terrified.

getou laughed, his arms opening wide as if welcoming the two into his home.

“so much more bite than when i last saw you, hm? the dark lord spoke highly of you…”

“stupefy!”

gojo’s head whipped around in a flash just in time to see itadori’s body fall to the forest floor. a man with long gray hair skipped towards them, giggling maniacally.

“ah mahito, just in time!” the man bowed in getou’s direction, inching closer to itadori’s paralyzed body. “master informed me that yuuji itadori had followed him here and sent me to fetch him…who is this handsome fellow, hm?”

gojo stood tall, senses on high alert. he was almost okay dealing with getou alone- but now there was an unknown wizard present. if voldemort sent him to do his biddings, then he must be strong…

“this is my old friend from hogwarts…satoru, meet mahito.”

“i’d rather not.”

mahito licked his lips in response to gojo’s remark, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. every aspect of this man screamed lunatic…and he was here for itadori.

a grunt escaped itadori from his position on the ground. gojo could see him trying to regulate his breathing, but it was obvious the younger boy was panicking.

“oh satoru, don’t be crass. the dark lord has been yearning to meet the young boy for a long while.”

“a long while? what the hell are you talking about?”

getou chuckled, brandishing his wand from the dark cloak that hung around his shoulders. gojo’s hand instinctively tightened around his wand as he watched his old friend walk towards itadori.

mahito tapped his fingers rhythmically against the handle of his own wand, seemingly awaiting orders. getou kneeled down closer to itadori’s face.

“yes, a long while.”

gojo still didn’t understand what that meant. itadori hadn’t met getou when he was at hogwarts, so how did his presence suddenly become voldemort’s pentacle of fascination?

“take him.”

“WAI-“

before gojo could even move to cast a spell, itadori’s scream was cut off as mahito apparated them both away.

“he’s just a boy!”

“maybe so…but a very powerful boy indeed.”

“his power doesn’t justify voldemort’s infatuation with him! i don’t understand why his involvement is needed-“

“they are tethered, satoru. remember?”

gojo’s body turned ice cold.

“…no, you…you…it was just-“

“just a suspicion, yes, that is what you told me, wasn’t it?”

no. no. it couldn’t be.

“the dark lord was very delighted with the information, so, i have you to thank, satoru. whatever may happen to the boy will be because of you.”

gojo’s mind went stark. he didn’t think, just moved with no purpose; he just let his rage pull his limbs into action like a puppet.

unspoken spells flew from both wands, the two wizards trapped in their last battle. the two were evenly matched. this didn’t surprise him.

after all, getou was one of the three people who had been able to land a jinx on him.

it was nonstop. gojo couldn’t stop himself if he tried. he was seething with anger not just towards getou, but towards himself. there was such a sinking feeling in the air, like they were dancing on cracking ice.

for an instant the two locked eyes. gojo felt his footing slightly tip, and that was all it took for getou to find an opening and send him flying backwards through the air. he landed hard on his back, wincing as a jolt of pain went through his head.

he knew he should get up. continue the fight. run and find itadori.

but he didn’t.

“you didn’t kill me.”

he didn’t see getou’s reaction to his comment. a patch of night sky that had broken through the clouds caught his attention.

for a moment he wished getou had killed him.

“get up.”

“i don’t want to.”

“satoru, get up and fight me.”

getou snarled and grabbed gojo by the collar of his jacket, pulling him up to meet his face.

“don’t you hate me?”

“…no.”

“why not! you…you should despise me! i betrayed everyone-including you!”

“i don’t.”

and it was the truth. gojo had spent hours in his dormitory stuffing his leaking eyes into his pillow, trying to be revolted by his best friend. he still had scars on his hands from punching the stone walls of the dungeons, trying to force his own physical pain into hatred.

it never worked.

“…i still don’t understand why you did it.”

that seemed to catch getou off guard. he slackened the grip he had on gojo’s collar, backing away with his head hung low.

“…he found my father.”

gojo’s eyes widened at the statement.

“i…i thought your father was-“

“dead? me too…” he paused for a moment, scoffing before continuing, “but he wasn’t. all that time we spent searching for letters, newspaper articles, headlines on the news- hell even muggle police reports- was for nothing.”

“so you went with him.”

“what other choice did i have, satoru?”

the atmosphere that had engulfed the two snapped.

what did he mean? ‘what other choice did he have’? gojo felt the anger from before start to trickle back into his veins.

“you could have stayed.”

getou met his eyes. they stood in unison, gaze never faltering.

“i had no reason to stay.”

“that’s bullshit and you know it, suguru.”

“what reason then? i was a horrid student, i didn’t care about grades, our so-called friends loathed me satoru! i had no family, no home to call my own i-“

“you had me, suguru!”

getou went silent. the only noises that could be heard were their heavy breaths and muffled yells from the castle. the wind sent a chill straight to gojo’s bones and he shivered, suddenly realizing there were tears trailing down his cheeks.

“i betrayed you satoru. without a second thought.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“i pushed you to investigate itadori’s powers. voldemort told me he would reveal my father’s whereabouts if i gave him information on the boy,”

“but-“

“i broke your trust! i didn’t even try to warn you of what i was planning, or that my father was alive-“

“suguru-“

“don’t you see!”

gojo stared at the look of pure exasperation and pain on getou’s face. he had a feeling it mirrored his own.

he watched as getou pulled the sleeve of his cloak above his forearm, placing the mark of the death eaters etched into his skin on display.

“this is what i am now, satoru.”

“and i’m just supposed to…what? hate you? was i supposed to hate you then? because i didn’t, and don’t.”

“that’s- that’s exactly what you should do! i would hate me-“

“well guess what suguru!” gojo was yelling by now, the words clawing their way from within his chest, “you don’t get to decide how your decisions make others feel!”

he ignored the fact he was moving steadily towards getou as he yelled. when he got close enough, gojo realized they both were shedding tears.

“i don’t understand why you care so much about me-“ gojo let out an unhumourous laugh, “what’s that supposed to mean, huh? you think i stayed up all those hours searching for your father out of what- obligation? pity?”

getou searched for an answer, stammering over the thoughts running through his head.

“i don’t understand why-“

“because i loved you!”

no more skirting around thin fractures, or waiting with baited breath to discover to truth. it was done.

and it broke him.

gojo had done well hiding his pain the past two years. the signature smirk was automatic-it appeared on his face without effort. conversation passed through his mouth without falter. he had trained himself to be the perfect student.

but this…this he couldn’t pretend to recover from.

“you…”

“it doesn’t matter now. what’s done is done.”

“were you ever going to tell me?”

“…i don’t know.”

when did his wand become so heavy? was his chest supposed to hurt this bad?

“oh god…satoru…”

he didn’t want to feel this way anymore. the sorrow was eating him alive, peeling back layers and layers of his soul.

he repressed the urge to comfort getou as he watched his past love fall to his knees.

“i’m so sorry, satoru.”

“sorry can’t fix everything, suguru,”

if only you had said it then…

“not now. not ever.”

please make this pain stop.

“…i know.”

“so let’s finish this.”

every fiber of his being was screaming at him to stop. a tiny voice yelled ‘you can help him!’. he forced the thoughts from his mind, they would only get in the way.

he had made his decision.

getou didn’t falter from his position on the ground. his wand stayed by his side. the only movement he made was to lift his head towards the night sky as gojo himself had done before.

i love you, suguru. forgive me.

“avadakdavra!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the walk back to the castle was torture. the weight of getou’s body was heavy in his arms. it was worse than he ever could have imagined.

the silence that had encompassed him the forest was shattered the moment he stepped foot onto school grounds. the battle was over, it seemed.

the carnage left behind was gut-wrenching.

gojo ignored the gazes of his peers as he wandered into the great hall. he knew this was where they had planned to house all of the wounded, and despite the hollow feeling in his gut, he needed to find his family.

“gojo!”

he turned to see who had called his name and felt relieved when he saw it was itadori. the relief was short-lived, however, when he noticed the sobs wracking the young boys’ body.

gojo retrieved a lone bedsheet and carefully placed getou’s body down, taking one last look at his past love’s face before he covered it. he left getou there and made his way over to where itadori was crouched over a figure lying on the floor. megumi and maki were both there too.

where was nobara?

“it happened right before you went after itadori…”

gojo’s gut wrenched when he saw who the figure was.

“i assume you saw getou…you didn’t even realize what had happened…” the memory of the battle flashed before his eyes.

“i killed that death eater. the woman. i- i could have sworn…no i know i killed her-“

“it was too late.”

“…gojo?”

he kneeled down and took one of nobara’s bloody hands in his own.

“yes, it’s me, i’m here now nobara.”

“you found getou…didn’t you?”

“…yes. i did.”

this wasn’t supposed to happen. gojo swore he had done everything to prepare them… butit wasn’t enough.

nobara wheezed as a chuckle tried to escape her body, the action causing her to cough uncontrollably as air tried to seep into her lungs.

“i can’t believe…out of all of us…that i’m the one dying…could have sworn it…would have been yuuji…ha!” itadori offered a small laugh, more tears escaping his eyes.

“wow, even on your deathbed you’re still fighting with me…”

gojo met the eyes of maki, who he could tell was choosing not to say anything. megumi refused to look at nobara’s face. instead he stared at the floor, silently crying, not bothering to wipe the tears away.

they’re so young.

gojo felt a sob lurch in his throat but he refused to let it free. he had to be strong. or, at least, act strong. it wasn’t time for his facade to break.

for their sake.

“you ok, nobara?”

“yea…i’m ok.”

gojo watched as she took her final breath.

“gojo…gojo she’s… she’s dead, gojo…”

he pulled itadori’s smaller body into his own, holding him there as the boy sobbed openly. megumi took ahold of maki’s hand, the latter turning her head into the boys’ shoulder as she let her own cries break free.

i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…

[driftwoodmfb]

Click for better quality.

The gods at Godhome in my Hollow Knight AU, hollow inverted.

Most of them have alternate names. The Radiance -> The Gloom Pale King -> Dim King White Lady -> Tainted Lady The Shade Lord -> The Glare Lord

More info about them along with other versions of the picture below:

These three pictures are without the dream practical effect, just background, and background without dream practical effect.

I don't have all the personalities worked out yet for the gods, but here what I'm going with so far:

Grimm is a lot more hyper and talkative and really buddy buddy with most of the other gods. He doesn't like the Tainted Lady. Him and Unn would talk a lot, Unn's a great listener. Him and The Gloom were close before she was sealed, he would often call her Gloomy. He didn't really care about Hollownest's politics until The Dim King showed up. Grimm is also very protective of his son, but he has met other vessels before so he trusted Ghost to take care of him. He still is a traveling god who doesn't have any real land, but he really likes Hollownest's gods so he visits there a lot. Grimm has blue fire.

I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with The Nightmare King (NK) yet, but I think it's going to be something along these lines: NK and Grimm don't really get along and NK since NK is practically trying to posses him all the time. NK is mischievous, cunning, and a bit rude. He gets very curious about strong bugs which latter leads him to be very interested in Ghost.

Unn isn't a very active god, but she has some very loyal follower. She's kind, takes care of her people and doesn't cause a fuse even when Tainted Lady and Dim King started taking her land. Grimm would always try to convince her to stand up to the injustice other would pull on her, but she would always argue that it's okay as long as her people are safe.

The Gloom, as mentioned in my previous post about this AU is actually a good guy. She is the goddess of not only dreams, but also lifeblood. Before the Dim King showed up, she was the goddess of most of the land in Hollownest. Her lifeblood could be found throughout of Hollownest, even the parts she didn't rule. It was used to help keep all the bugs of the land healthy. The Gloom willingly let the other gods use her lifeblood.

The Tainted Lady is pretty mean in this AU. She never got along with the other gods and the other gods didn't like her either. She always wanted more power and land and her followers mainly worshiped her out of fear. She knew that she could easily push around Unn, but couldn't push The Gloom around and she wasn't strong enough to defeat her. Then the Dim King came along.

I haven't decided yet if the Dim King was "evil" as well or if was just tricked and manipulated by the Tainted Lady. Dim King arrived barely able to stay alive choking on ash. (Side note instead of snow in the Kingdom's Edge it's ash). He found himself in an unknown land and was found by the Tainted Lady who first mistaken him as a normal mortal bug. When she latter found out he was a wyrm she spun him a tale about how The Gloom was going to ruin the land. He believed her especially since wyrms have a bit of something like future vision. He saw a future were bugs could barely survive, yet he didn't know that helping the Tainted Lady would lead the future to it instead of leading it away from it.

I don't have much on the Godseeker yet, but she is still obsessed with gods. I think she'll be nicer to Ghost probably knowing a bit about Ghost's upbringing and being the kid of gods, but might still think that Ghost is too weak. I'm just not sure yet.

[reynie-muldoons]

'The Dance of the Celestial Orb' liveblog!

for real this time lmfao

book and show spoilers below

I'm ✨nervous✨ please let our children be okay

0:10 this Sticky arc hurts me so kuch

1:35 this music is BUMPIN

2:22 I just wanna know how she got under there without the dude seeing her

2:47 "all systems go" for the Improvement.... yikes 😬😬😬

2:55 she didn't wait even 5 seconds after they left, the door was still closing when she popped up 😂 can you imagine if one of them doubled back right at that moment

3:18 they look like the dudes from that veggietales movie, I think it was Esther- the island of perpetual tickling?? Anyone??? 😂😂😂

4:00 Kate vented.......

4:51 "not a rat" yeah no shit

5:07 if not for the suspense, I would be jamming out lmaooo

6:10 Mr. Benedict is looking at the shoreline, is he about to watch Kate dive in???? Because I mean that's where she's gotta be going

6:20 "memory challenges"? Is Rhonda talking about Milligan's amnesia, or has short term memory been affected as well??

6:29 .....thank you for answering so efficiently 😂

6:42 "I buy it. I completely.... buy it." RHONDA THAT'S NOT HELPFUL AHSKSHDJKD

6:56 can you imagine seeing your friend go down in a sub then hours later seeing the sub float up in fucking PIECES

7:06 KATE! KATE! KATE! KATE!

7:06 please let it be reunion time

7:25 oh hello that's a drop

7:38 *to the tune of Bezos I* come on Katie u can do it pave the way put ur back into it

7:51 she craves that mineral

8:06 Sticky, my child

8:20 oh my gosh they went out and LOOKED FOR HER I care them 😭😭😭

8:23 SHE KNEW HIS DREAM SHE KNEW HIS DREAM TELEPATH TELEPATH TELEPATH

8:34 STICKY STOPPPP

8:40 "jumping to conclusions is a failure of character" wow that really is something Curtain would say

8:52 angry Reynie. He is in rare form

8:54 "and you helped put her there!" OOOOOOOH I SCREAMED

9:03 "I shouldn't have yelled" okay but you kinda should have Sticky needs a wake up call

9:06 "dont apologize. I like this side of you." IS THIS THE START OF REYNIE AND CONSTANCE HAVING THE BEST SIBLING RELATIONSHIP

9:22 "if you really cared about me, you'd want me to be happy instead of standing there telling me who I am" oh Sticky my dude I am NOT digging the manipulation

9:36 Reynie pulling out the BFF card!!! Also Reynie digging in his feet because he knows he's right!!!! That's great setup for his arc as a strategist later

9:48 "I'm telling you, Kate's fine." Narrator: Kate was not, in fact, fine.

10:03 "they'll notice." Sticky has made one (1) good point.

10:11 oh dear god are they fingerprinting this bitch

10:19 all this equipment, has no one walked up to the cliff and looked down???

10:23 HAHAHAHA WAIT THEY ACTUALLY HAVEN'T

10:27 "we've been out here all night" that means Kate has been clinging to a cliff by her fingers and toes ALL NIGHT????

11:04 babe I know it's been a long night but maybe wait a second for them to actually leave before you climb back up

11:15 BUCKET NO

11:22 she has to go get it. There's no way someone wouldn't find that shit, it's in plain view

11:37 "WAS"???? WHY ARE WE SAYING WAS????? NO PAST TENSE HERE MILLIGAN'S FINE

11:43 "I only wish we could've known him better" NOOOPE NONONO WE'RE NOT DOING THIS

11:47 Rhonda back at it as the voice of reason!!!!!

11:59 "I have never met a more competent swimmer" throwback to "the baaAAAYYYY"

12:10 MR. BENEDICT'S FACE HAHAHAHA HOLD ON LET ME TAKE A PICTURE IM DYING

12:11 NUMBER TWO, NOT HELPING

12:14 RHONDA'S FACE HAHENDJDKDN

12:33 "we will go rescue him" because of COURSE he would

12:36 Rhonda is his best wingwoman omfg she's so consistent

12:54 MISS PERUMAL??????

12:56 MISS PERUMAL!!!!!!

13:00 SHE KNOWS HE'S RIGHT GAKSHDBDHEKSNND

13:09 "how hard can it be? It's an island!" PFFFFT

13:16 oh SQ baby boy please get out of there

13:25 "I certainly have my own suspicions" he said, looking at SQ why are you looking at SQ like that

13:31 SQ GET OUT OF THERE PLEASE IS2G

13:36 here we fuckin go

13:43 the captions have the f in forest capitalized like it's this special place

13:43 new hc that the Forest is a magical place like pixie hollow

13:57 TWO THINGS: 1. YES stand up for yourself baby!!!! 2. Shepard Quaid? Interesting! I don't think we ever got SQ's full name in the books, I hope TLS made that decision!

14:08 your "father hat"??? Oh my gosh shut the fuck up right there don't even continue

14:16 oh yeah real fuckin cute put on your "steward of this institution hat" and call that a good reason to be a shit person

14:43 "No." GOOD FOR HIMMMM GOOD JOB SQ

15:03 Kate's struggling right by the shore where a certain someone would be returning after a very hard swim, it would be a great time for a meeting wouldn't you think

15:09 KATE THE GREAT

15:11 "THE TRAPESE GODDESS" I WILL REFER TO HER AS NOTHING ELSE

15:26 sorry but that green screen of her falling was kinda funny

15:28 soooooo is someone, a very certain someone, gonna catch her...??????

15:36 YEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

15:43 IS THIS IT????@?@?!?

15:46 awww poor baby girl you can tell how tired she is

15:46 just putting this out there- they look so good in frame together

15:46 the actor who plays Milligan is fucking huge in stature so I wasn't sure how that would go but it looks so good

16:00 THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER WITH HIS HAND ON HER SHOULDER I CANT DO THISSSSS

16:20 "keep going." 😭😭😭😭😭

16:23 "you dont understand." Ohhhh I think he does

16:25 "I think I do." What did I tell you, he's got your back babygirl

16:45 I'm so glad she's talking this out, and with Milligan of all people

17:01 it makes so much sense for Kate to feel alone in that situation, and when Kate feels anything less than positive she goes and does something, whatever that something is.

17:05 "So.. I...." "fell off a cliff and nearly died." Thanks for putting things into perspective Milligan

17:05 Milligan is such a good dad stop

17:19 "most of the way" is an understatement LMFAO

17:29 I'm so glad we know the intimate details of Milligan's illustrious swimming abilities 😂 out of all the new things wfrom the show that one wasnt on my radar

17:52 leave it to Milligan to come up with an escape plan off of an island with no water vessel with four kids in tow

18:08 THEYRE SO CUTE 😭😭😭😭

18:08 lowkey I'm super surprised they didnt take this opportunity to have Milligan's arduous swim force his memories out and have the father daughter bonding time they deserve. I hope they give that moment ample time to flesh out.

18:13 BUCKET!!!

18:13 wait that shot is so artsy hold up lmfao

18:13 this looks like someone's photography final hahahaha

18:26 THE TENDER MUSIC STOPPPP 😭😭😭

18:41 Sticky is still on that jumping to conclusions bs he got from Curtain

18:44 WETHERALL'S WIDGET 😭

19:31 "Kate... she's in danger..." NO SHIT SHERLOCK

19:36 "and it's all because of me." Not just because of you but love to see you taking responsibility

19:52 once again I am asking WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THIS IN THE OPEN

20:26 "Kate. She has changed." "Not really. She's always been who she is." "Her clothes. She changed clothes." PFFFT HAHHAHA they really took a moment of self-reflection and made it so much better

20:55 AYYYYY KATE'S DEPENDENCY ARC CONTINUESSSSS

21:35 yikes yikes yikes

22:16 I love that Mr. Benedict got closure in telling Miss Perumal that her words stuck with him

22:40 the way she just knows Reynie took the position of leader 😭😭

22:54 SHE WROTE HIM A LETTERRR

23:02 "Would it be possible to get this to him?" Ma'am what part of undercover spy don't you get

23:54 it's still really weird that we are now in a position where Reynie is the one who is not trusted and Sticky is the one in Curtain's favor

24:13 and here we see Curtain's thinly veiled anger issues shining through

24:21 "the little things matter. Every minor detail, it all matters!" CALLBACK TO MR. BENEDICT TELLING THE CHILDREN THAT THEY ALL MATTER

24:55 "I can tell with complete accuracy when a person is lying." first of all, no. second of all, I cannot wait for him to talk to Constance.

26:33 why is Mr. Benedict graphically explaining the children's potential trauma so funny to me

26:40 "you're catastrophizing." "Yes. I am. Quite severely. Thank you." WHY IS THIS FUNNY

26:58 MADGE!!!!

27:16 she's so prettyyyyy

27:33 GOOD JOB MADGE!!!!!

27:36 wait did she just take the LETTER??? she's delivering the LETTER?????

28:05 WHAT DOES "OKAY FINE" MEAN??? REYNIE??????

28:22 it's sad because it's true 🥺

28:24 "I miss my teacher from the orphanage" the best lies are the ones rooted in truth 🥺🥺🥺

28:48 roll credits

29:16 Reynie honey Orion's Belt isn't on the ceiling

29:29 the way he was so confident that he had it right 😑 Curtain Stop Being a Pretentious Fuck challenge

29:52 our babygirl is so smartttt

29:55 did Milligan plant his prints 😳 oh no OH NO

29:57 MARTINA???? WHATSUEJHDKD

29:57 is this the replacement for when they pin cheating on her????

30:03 THE KEY CARD!!!!

30:11 MADGEEEE

30:21 "one attacked me as a small child" honey you are a small child

30:24 "it did not win," she said, smiling menacingly

30:40 "so we dance again" WHY DID THE MUSIC REV UP WHEN SHE SAID THAT HAHAHAHA

31:01 ✨woodworking is a passion✨

31:58 "was it functional?" "Well I guess that depends on how you define functionality" RHONDA'S FACE IN THE BACKGROUND HAHAHAHA

32:10 OH HEY MARTINA

32:17 wait 🥺

32:22 that has to be SQ :)

32:28 hi sweet boy

32:34 please tell me they did that shot of the sandwich because Madge is about to take it

32:39 LMFAOOOOO

32:44 hi good girl!!! Enjoy your snackies

32:50 oh god oh no the LETTER

33:25 oh wow we're doing this NOW??

33:52 and here we see another example of Curtain's thinly veiled anger issues bubbling to the surface

34:10 hey what if you uhhh weren't such an asshole

34:33 that man's voice is buttery

34:52 REYNIE'S TRYING TO TELL SQ????

35:02 and they're talking about this right in front of the office door, WHY??

35:24 AND THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT THIS RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE OFFICE DOOR, WHY????

35:55 he's letting him go 🥺🥺🥺🥺

36:14 why does that look like a body bag

36:17 oh my gosh it definitely is a body bag, hey Martina

36:25 yep, that's about what I expected

36:36 "whoever did this to me, they're gonna pay" oh girl do I have some bad news for you

37:12 ahhhh, so Martina is the burnt out gifted kid who keeps going out of spite and sheer force of will

37:12 everything makes much more sense now

37:30 ohhhhh my gosh feelings time

37:44 "I think it's awesome." "Yeah. I know you do." THE SHIPPERS ARE THRIVING

37:54 THEY REALLY WANT TO MAKE THIS AS PAINFUL AS POSSIBLE HUH

38:10 "it's the least I can do" that's an understatement 😬

38:14 AAWWWWW SHKSHSLSBDK

38:20 "I don't know what I'd do without you, Wetherall" STOPPPPP

38:30 HEY BUD UH MAYBE CLOSE YOUR DOOR???

38:38 he's been writing letters to her every night and now he finally gets one back 😭😭

39:34 so Miss Perumal wrote this letter with the intention of it being sent to him, right- why did she write it like that?? 😂

39:34 they've gone to such lengths to communicate in code but the letter kind of undermines that- it was written in such a way that an onlooker would know Reynie was a spy but wouldn't know what he was doing or why. No wonder SQ was pissed

39:41 KATE!!

40:10 BREAKING NEWS: local bastard man treats everyone like shit

40:15 ohhhhh SQ bud please be careful

40:30 "always have time for my son," he said in a clipped voice that implied that he does not have time for his son

40:35 ohhh he's getting RIGHT INTO IT HUH

40:41 you mean to tell me he's never asked about Mr. Curtain's work?? Ever???? Somehow that doesn't seem right to me

40:57 hey uh what if you didn't talk down to SQ at every opportunity

41:02 "would you care to reconsider that answer, son?" "No." DIG THOSE HEELS IN SQ!!!!

41:22 I'm really not digging that Curtain is using the guise of openly expressing his feelings to communicate his anger and his unasked question. Not cool bitch head

41:33 the fact that he didn't answer SQ's spoken question kind of also answers his unspoken question

41:45 "I knew there was something off about that girl. But espionage?" "How do you so convincingly fake a tetherball obsession?" I love that this entire conversation could be about Martina or Kate interchangeably

42:34 WELL THAT'S NOT GOOD

42:36 IF IT WAS THAT EASY TO FIND WITH BINOCULARS HOW HAD THEY NOT BEEN SPOTTED UP UNTIL THIS POINT?!!?#? HOW????

43:05 Kate advocating for Martina with the Society 🥺🥺 the interaction I didn't know I needed

43:58 "I definitely don't like to leave anything unfinished." "That's true, I've seen you eat." PFFFFT

44:05 YESS YOU GO STICKY USE YOUR ACCESS FOR PRIME INTEL

44:19 "well, you can't succeed without me, so..." baby girl you have no idea how right you are

44:28 please let that be Milligan PLEASE LET THAT BE MILLIGAN

44:32 YEAAAAAHHHHH

44:35 I simply adore him

44:45 "would you mind helping me down, please? I'm stuck." Your honor I would die for this man

44:54 oh shit, Martina's tryna sleuth it out herself.. this can't end well

45:04 is she about to find Kate's marbles or something?? Callback to the book?

45:26 the absolute MURDER in her eyes

45:31 FUCKIN YIKES

45:41 "the clothes of someone who had given up" ASEJDGEIDNDLFK

45:47 well that's not good

46:00 WELL THAT'S NOT GOOD

46:04 PLEASE let them be on their way already, please

46:14 THEY MADE A BLIMP????

46:17 Goodyear is QUAKING

46:35 why the fuck is Number Two in red, that's upsetting on principle

THEYRE JUST ENDING IT THERE???? goddamnit!!!!

How surreal is it that next week is the finale?? Idk if I'm ready for that????

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Hollow Crown from Phil’s point of view is nice to think about. Like imagine.

You’re a dad of two kids. You’re currently residing in this small town called Dirtmouth. It once was a part of the fallen kingdom of L’Manberg, but all there is really is a few people now. You open up a small shop that sells charms and it’s semi-successful. People come in and you go and continue life like this.

You also get some books on L’Manberg’s history to have something to do. Might as well know more about the place you’re living in now. It’s not much but you have enough to somewhat put the pieces together.

Then your sons go and tell you that they want to go down the kingdom to explore and to get to the Colosseum of Fools. Understandably, you’re panicking over this. You’ve seen a lot of travelers go in and never come back out. And those who do, go babble on about how it’s cursed.

(You felt the pull more than once. How it whispers to you on how it can take away all his problems and protect your children. You refuse every time.)

And now your sons want to go in it.

Your own sons.

After some arguing and some compromises, you let them go, on the condition that they write to you and that they visit every few days. Yet you still feel intense worry for them. Intense big worry for them.

Then, not even an hour later, a kid drops in. Probably sixteen or seventeen from appearance but they drop in. They don’t really respond to your attempts at conversation but hey, they might be shy.

(It’s a kid. Where are his parents? Who’s watching them?)

You realize that the kid is going to L’Manberg and impulsively, you tell them to watch over your sons. You give him some change in return and he accepts. You have no idea why you did that.

A few days later, both of your sons come back from the kingdom and tell you about a Ravine and an abandoned town on stilts. They talk about the people they met. A three wanderers and how Tommy got in a fight with one of them. A lady who carries a needle and throws it with precision. And of a traveler who’s about Tommy’s age and how Tommy is trying to befriend him despite the weird vibes he gives off.

Turns out the kid actually did met your sons. You appreciate this and hope that he’ll keep on doing this. It’s a little worrying that your eldest child told you that the kid has no parents though. It makes you regret giving the kid that. You can’t really take it back now though.

Your kids depart once again and a few days later you see the kid again. They seem to got a different cloak and seem faster now. You thank him and show him your shop and offer some items you have on sale.

The kid buys a few of them (Sprintmaster, a shard, and what you think is an egg. You have no idea why he bought the egg.) You wave to him goodbye and the kid looks at you for a moment, before delivering his own stiff version of a wave.

Weird kid. Then again you’ve seen weird people before. No need to be offensive or anything.

You then wait at your shop once more and talked to them. Among the people who passed by was a lady with rainbow hair, claiming to be off to protect those who need her. 

A young man with ginger hair and mapping supplies has also passed by to ask for some ink for his travels. There also seems to be some history books in his bag and you both compared your notes and piece together more of L’Manberg’s history. Eventually he had to leave but he promised to come and visit again at some point.

There has also been two people who passed by. One a bard with a beanie and another, a historian wearing bright colors. The bard reminds you a bit of your eldest son with his chaotic energy and all that. The historian then asks to compare notes with you on L’Manberg and more of the history is revealed. They soon left, saying that they’re looking for the library of L’Manberg. An impossible task, but sometimes the journey is better than the end result.

Your kids come back again, only to be a little bit shaken from their last adventure. They tell you about the City of Tears and about them meeting the three wanderers again along with the kid. This time, your youngest did not go and fight the one with the bandanna but it’s a little hard to focus on fighting when apparently the kid and the wanderer with goggles accidentally got trapped in the Soul Sanctum.

The fucking Soul Sanctum.

(You hate that place. You have heard stories about it from those who came back and they all tell you about how they can hear screams from there. How they distantly saw human experimentation being conducted. It’s terrifying.)

All of them had to go and break into it and apparently when they did find the kid and goggles, they apparently defeated the Soul Master and the kid apparently got magic from his corpse. Disturbing but this kingdom is pretty disturbing.

The story thankfully takes a lighter turn as after a few days of rest, they all talked and gotten along pretty well. The kid as it seems also seemed to be a little bit brighter. A spar between goggles and the kid happen and the kid won. And apparently according to your sons, the kid has also won against the Badlands. Pretty impressive if you think about it.

They leave but not without telling you that they sort adopted the kid as their brother. A bit surprising, but nice to know about.

The kid comes back again and seems to be a bit lighter than usual. He seems to have a brighter look in his eyes and he perks up when you wave at him. He buys things and you thought that was it before the kid gives you a beautiful writing quill. 

He looks at you expectantly and you realize that this is a gift. You’re touched by this and smile a bit. He smiles back and your heart warms a bit at the sight. He waves to you goodbye and goes off to the Stag Station.

Things are slow for a couple of weeks. The map maker visits again and you find that some more people visit. You talk to them and you find them to be pleasant company. Your sons visit, the kid visits. Rinse and repeat.

Your sons visit again, this time the eldest is holding the hand of the kid that you’ve been seeing. They then tell you that this is their new brother and the kid looks so much more brighter than last time. He smiles a bit and goes to hang out with your youngest as you talk to your eldest.

Things then go back into rhythm again. The only thing that was changing that was when the kid one day visits you, and tells you, with the brightest expression on their face and with a shaky yet happy voice that their name is Tubbo. 

The kid comes a lot more often with Tommy and Wilbur. He seems happy with those two. More people start to visit the town. 

For one, the lady with rainbow hair seems to decide that this is her home now, saying that she has protected who she needed to protect but now is currently being told by the kid to be on bed rest after a rather close encounter with an infected. She seemed shaken despite her brushing it off, so you offer some tea and tell her that his door is always open to talk.

The map maker, bard, and historian also came back and also made residence in the town. Apparently the bard, historian, and the kid found L’Manberg’s secret library. Well shit. All of them actually found it. They came back with books they made copies of and you compare more notes and get about almost all of L’Manberg’s history. 

You also notice that they all seem to hate the dark now and panic a bit when it does get dark. There’s some trauma there but all you say is that they can talk to him anytime. You don’t know them that well but you still should comfort them.

Your kids came back but with another kid. Apparently an End Folk kid. You let him stay at your house after some convincing and you’re patient with them. Several days later and you accidentally adopted him. Whoops.

Things seemed to get weird in that week. The kid summoned the vessel of the blood god and then fought said vessel of the blood god. It was weird. Said blood god turns out to be just a vessel and you accidentally became friends with him after talking to him. Well then. He then tells you that the kid fought well and that he actually beaten the actual blood god.

The kid has beaten a god. 

What the fuck.

(Isn’t he like sixteen or seventeen? How did that happen?)

Well then. The kid apparently beaten a god! That’s great! ANd also a bit terrifying but you don’t say that. The potato farmer (what the vessel would like to be remembered as) then decides to make residence in the town.

A blacksmith with red and blue glasses then comes around and asks if this is Dirtmouth. When you said yes, he nodded and asked if he can stay here. You let him and now there’s no excuse for your sword to go dull.

A month has passed again and you grow closer to everyone in the town. A man in goggles also visits but seemed frazzled. Frantically asking for anything on the history of the infection. The historian seemed to know him and gave him access to the books.

By the end of it, he leaves disappointed and panicked. You tried talking to him but he only rushed to the stag station.

Several days passed and then you find that your youngest had almost died at the Colosseum. You panic. You panic so much and your eldest and the kid is crying.

He barely survived the fall and only was saved because of a woman who calls herself the Protector. You thank her and you get your youngest on bedrest after some arguing. You eldest however looks distant. You’re worried about him but before you can say anything, he leaves, saying that he has to do something.

Several more days passed and the kid is frantically pulling on your clothes to come with him, he seemed to be crying. You then find your eldest at the lake and looking at the water a bit too much and talk him out of it. You take him home and the kid stays with you for a couple of days before leaving.

Both of your sons are at home and you and the rest of the residents help them heal. Eventually they do and they start to be a bit like themselves again. You’re eternally relived and think that is the end of your problems before the kid comes back with the three wanderers that your kids talks about.

Turns out bandanna was infected and had to be snapped out of it. They made residence there in order to heal. Though after a couple of days you saw that the guy in the hoodie was slowly bringing things such as flowers and flower pots to the house they’re residing in. Yep. They’re permanent residents now.

The kid- no. Your son, then comes up to you and tells you that there is something he needs to do. If you looks closely, you can see that some parts of him seemed to be void. You aren’t sure what to feel about this.

A month passes and no one has seen your kid. The Badlands, the Protector, the Colosseum, no one, has not seen him. The Protector now goes to the town once a week to ask if anyone has seen him.

Then a week passed and the infection starts to fade away. People wake up and so many things happen at once. The Badlands are whole again, bandanna says that he can’t hear the call anymore, and the Protector confirmed that this is happening everywhere.

Then a guy with chipped armor and eyes with no pupils appears in town and you know. You know from the history books that they’re the hollow knight. Everyone asks if they’ve seen the kid and they sadly replied no.

Another week passes and as everyone heals, you start to think that the kid might be gone. And then you hear a thumping sound is heard and you look outside to see a humongous creature outside.

You were about to fight it only for them to raise their hands in surrender and then turn into the kid. You and your family (because admit it, you adopted all the people in this town) can only stare in shock before hugging him tightly.

This happened in a year. All of this happened in a year and you are glad for it. Your family has gotten a lot bigger and yeah they’re a bit traumatized but they can heal. All of them can heal.

[innercameron]

where birth & death met

I tried to commit suicide on a beautiful Monday & was almost successful. Not only was no one worried for me, my mental health, & my safety.. they made it about themselves; even my family.

They all swept it under the rug & acted like a nothing happened. that a man who tried killing him self never took place; no consolation; no words; nothing; they just simply wiped their “tears” & moved on.

Maybe because in their mind I’m still here, I’m still alive so that’s all they’re thankful for; that it could’ve “been worse”. It only gave me confirmation to the feelings I’ve always had: that if I would have died that day, at the very moment or died at any given time no one wouldn’t have gave my empty vessel a thought.

But, that’s an oxymoron due to the fact that people would care that I died & is no longer here. Only because of the guilt that’s eating them alive & tearing them apart. It’s crazy that only death causes sadness & people start with the if I’s; but, it’s absence during the time when a person needs it most & the signs are shown.

Or maybe I am to blame for this. I block people out. I push people away. To me, it’s for my protection, but it seems like that’s doing more harm than good; I now realize. I feel as though people don’t actually listen or care about who I am.

That day; that moment where birth met death in the eyes made life dark & hollow.

Everything leading up to that moment made the decision to try & take my life so clear; I was finally at the end of the tunnel & I saw how green the grass was; I never felt anything like that before; like death was the only option I had left to escape the burden & tragedy I caused. It brings tears to my eyes because the only regret that I have is that I failed; I’m still here; I’m still alive.

That day was supposed to be the birth of me, not death; and even though I still survived from what I wanted to kill me, I still died.

Me telling [only half of] my story isn’t for sympathy. It’s for empathy; I want people to feel my pain. not in a negative way, but for understanding. getting a better knowing of me. I have no one to confide in or vent to or talk to. so this is my form of communication.

Death met birth & said “let me ease your pain. I will take care of you for that you will never have to feel like this ever again”. I took it.

That’s a birthday I’ll never forget.

What a beautiful tragic yet poetic way to start off being 27.

[writing-the-end]

WS Chapter 37: Seasons Change

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

So anxiety’s been a real pain lately, but i”m not going to let it stop be from writing. I did get an ao3, though I’m just putting up LoL on there right now. 

either way, another hermit meets the wanderers! Reminder that all of this was written at the beginning of s7, so this is before Keralis became stupid rich. 

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block  (red teach me your waysplz)

“You keep disrespecting the magic, Grian, some day it’ll come back to haunt you.” Scar hums, still put off by Grian trying to get rid of the crystal he’s been giving him. These are priceless, and yet Grian finds so much joy in tossing them around like trash. 

“Sure it will, Scar.” Grian chuckles, kicking the sand of the desert beach Iskall has laid claim to. Grian holds the rowboat over his head, rolling his eyes  but smiling. 

“You of all people should know not to challenge magic- you’re a magical creature yourself!” Scar turns around, putting his hands on his hips and jutting out his chin. 

“Just get in the boat, Scar. You’ll ‘ave lots of time to berate Grian in there.” Stress points out, tossing her vessel into the water with relaxed ease. Avon sets down the fresh jungle boat carved for her and Ecto. Mumbo plops down his boat, looking at Red. 

“Getting in?” He questions. They have just the right people to fill every boat. 

“Red doesn’t need the boat.” Ecto chuckles. 

“What do you-” Red’s holler cuts Mumbo off as he goes running into the Hermiatic sea, leaping into the warm waters. “Right, fish person.” 

Red swims through the water, her streamline from cutting through the sea. Water rolls off her scales and skin, tossles her hair, and clings to her clothes. Welcoming the kipling back home. It’s a welcome return to her natural habitat, with dolphins squeaking and whistling to greet her and a curtain of tropical fish becoming a mosaic around her. But it feels like a hollow return. This isn’t her ocean. When she gets home, will it still look like this? Is it already destroyed by that Blu? 

Red rubs her eyes, exhausted from everything that’s been happening. They were attacked, and Red was helpless as her friends were gravely injured. They managed to escape to this world, only to lose each other. The fear of losing Ecto and Avon, even for just a short amount of time is terrifying. What would he do without them now? Without Ecto’s keen observation skills, or Avon’s unrelenting determination. 

He grabs hold of his backpack, surfacing quietly and watching the hermits and his friends. He sees Ecto, wounded across the back. He watches Avon’s hand grip her side, covered in bandages. Losing his friends would be just as bad as the knowledge that he may lose his family. His friends are his family. Red’s fingers run along the emerald eyes of the statue Scar gave him. The smooth gold and polished emerald have become a way for Red to calm down by rubbing it. Fred may be creepy, but he’s helped him through a lot. 

Red swims up beside Scar and Grian’s boat, poking her head out and kicking her legs to keep up with them. “So where are we going? Do we need food? I’m really good at fishing, I really am.” 

“Keralis lives on another shore of the Hermiatic sea, and he definitely should know where Xisuma is.” Grian answers.

“I would love some fish. I didn’t bring any more potatoes.” Scar chimes in, hearing his stomach growling at the mention of food. 

“How many people live on this hermiatic sea?” Red questions. She feels like she’s met so many already, are there more out there?” 

Grian taps his finger, letting go of his oar. “I think we’re twenty two strong this time around?” 

Red’s eyes widen at the thought. So many people, all gathered together. Red isn’t sure she’s ever seen that many people apart from villages. But these guys definitely aren’t village folk. She dives back underwater, zipping ahead and snatching fish with her teeth and claws. She drops her catch off with Scar, leaving the freshly caught cod on his purple robe. She’s like a cat, leaving fishy surprises in all of the boats. Ecto and Avon know to protect themselves from a fish, but Mumbo can only whimper and groan as a scaley salmon is tossed into his lap. 

The group of travelers follow the shoreline, watching the beach change to jungle, and jungle to savanna. Acacia trees sparsely cover the rolling, dry grass. But for the wanderers, it leaves a bad taste in their mouths. It reminds them of Blu, the whole reason why they’re here, why they aren’t continuing their journey to Red’s home. Avon tries to feel better by reminding herself that they can at least gather information while they're here. Learn more about who that person was. 

“So...who is this person we’re going to see? To show us the way to the world wizard?” Ecto isn’t sure she likes how many people are joining in on this journey. Her fellow wanderers were already a handful to remember and keep track of. Adding in Grian and Scar, previous people she had come to know and trust, was about the most she could handle. But now she has to worry about this Iskall guy, Stress, and the creature they call Mumbo. 

“His name is Keralis. He’s a master builder. Honestly sometimes he puts me to shame when it comes to house designs.” Grian states, pulling up to row beside Ecto and Avon. 

“We may have locked him up like we did you guys as well.” Scar winces, offering an apologetic smile as everyone glares at him. Still some negative sentiments there. “I mean, when you see the man, you’ll understand why we thought it. He’s like...twenty percent eyeball and thirty percent mouth.” 

“There’s his base. Or… at least his starter home.” Iskall points to the hillside near the water. Blue containers stack atop one another, and construction machines sit idle in the turned up dirt. A few villagers are hard at work in the construction zone, though they all stop and stare at the incoming strangers. When Avon draws close, the villagers back away. Even in another world, they still fear her. Even in another world, she’s still a monster. She can never escape it.

“Hello my beautiful friends! Oh, and some new faces!” Keralis leans out a window, waving his hands vigorously. He leans farther so that they can see him more, and loses balance out the window. 

The band of hermits and wanderers all wince, the heavy thud of Keralis hitting the ground below the open window. Stress rushes over to help, but Keralis is back on his feet before she can grab his arms. He wipes dirt from his wide eyes and gives the crew a wide smile. “Aww man, I had a record going...three days without an accident.” 

“Damn, that’s a pretty good record around here.” Iskall hums. 

“Who are these guys? Beyond new friends?” Keralis creeps closer to the wanderers, his curiosity met with the same from Red. The two look at one another, sizing the opposite up before breaking out into giggles. Apparently both deemed the other a worthy friend. 

“I’m Red, the tall one is Ecto and the scary one is Avon. Trust me they’re a lot nicer than they look. They’re awesome friends.” Red squeezes her friend’s hand.

“Ah, well welcome, welcome. I hope my friends have been treating you well while you’ve been in our world.” Keralis shakes hands with Red and waves to those that don’t seem interested in interacting physically. 

“Oh, ah yeah about that…” Scar grimaces, hoping to pave over such a sensitive topic. 

Unfortunately Grian beats him to it. “Scar thought they were aliens too. Locked the wanderers up in Area 77 too.” 

Keralis’s eyes and smile freeze, becoming cold as he turns his head from the wanderers to Scar. Keralis’s voice hisses through his teeth, dripping with anger. He still holds a bit of a grudge. “Did he now?”

“Whoa, hey we all cleared it up, right? We’re all friends now.” Scar backs off of Keralis, knowing the man can be particularly vicious if he wants to be. Behind those bug eyes and agape mouth is a killer. He’s a master at Head Hunt. 

“Scar let me pet his cats!” Red coos, and luckily for Scar her cheery attitude towards him seems to be enough to quell Keralis’s blade. 

“Alright, alright. New world, new leaf.” Keralis pulls off his helmet, tousling his hair free from the yellow safety hat. “What can I do to help you guys? Wanna buy a book?” 

“Actually, we were lookin’ fer some info. Do you know where Xisuma is based?” Stress rubs her neck. She actually could use another mending book, but she isn’t carrying the diamonds on this journey. 

“You want to see Bee-shwamy? What fore?” Keralis tips his head, sitting on a barrel next to his heavy work machinery. He was just with him the other day. 

“He may have information that our friends here need.” Grian fills.

“He’s the smartest guy in the world when it comes to general facts of life. Man’s a wizard for a reason.” Iskall adds. “Sorry Scar...a real wizard.” 

Ecto steps forward, bumping a mumbling Scar out of the way. “We were attacked in our own world by these creatures from the nether. They destroyed my home.” 

“You mean pigmen?” Keralis frowns, looking over the hillside to see if Porky’s there. He didn’t think pigmen were that organized. 

“He wasn’t a pigman.” The winged one, Avon, hisses. “He could talk, and he definitely wasn’t zombified or anything.”

Keralis rubs his chin. He has no clue about anything of that sort. The only person he could think that may know more is either Xisuma...or perhaps Tango.  “That’s definitely some strange news. We should get to see Bee-shwamey to get this sorted out. Follow me!” 

Keralis hops off his boxes, waving for the team to trail after him. Across the grasslands, another jungle rises. Trees with high canopies and vibrant leaves brush in the dry savanna wind at the interface between plains and forest. Avon is quick to grab onto both Ecto and Red. She’s not losing them again. If she had a lead, she’d put them on it. 

The other hermits stick close as well. All of them have gotten lost in their own jungle, it would be so much worse in a jungle they have no knowledge of. Keralis, however, has no trouble hopping over short oak trees and swinging through the vines. His cheeky grin never falters, constantly wide eyed and taking everything in. Observing every inch of the world around him. 

The jungle doesn’t stop, even when construction starts. Vines and trees creep around the white concrete, and pathways arch over the leaves below. The forest is as much a part of the construction as the scaffolding. Just as much a part of the build as the chests and lighting. Somehow, the sleek, futuristic style perfectly blends with the chaotic, ancient patterns of nature. Whoever has built this is in tune with nature. 

“Oh hello there friends.” Xisuma waves, tangled up in vines that he has gotten caught in while flying. His pockets are filled with jungle saplings, clumps of dirt falling from the roots and across his mask. He spits out a pebble. “What can I do ya for?”

[ladyvialana]

Fic: The Fight Still Lingers

Supernatural fic. Dean & Amara. Background Dean/Castiel.

Summary: Heaven is not what it seems. So of course it isn’t Sam who meets Dean at the bridge: it’s Amara.

Notes: post-canon fix-it, spoilers from 15x18-15x20,

Also on Ao3.

Heaven hasn’t been anything like Dean expected. So, when Dean turns to give his brother a hug after a death and lifetime separated, a tiny part of him isn’t surprised to see that it isn’t his brother standing by the impala. It’s Amara.

She is as otherworldly and imposing as ever and her smile is twisted with an unsettlingly familiar sadness.

“I’m sorry.”

Dean doesn’t know why she’s apologising to him; last time they saw each other, he lied to her and basically convinced her to kill herself. Dean should be the one grovelling for forgiveness.

“He’s not coming,” she continues.

“Bullshit,” he says, rage at the injustice of Sam being denied the peace of heaven finally giving him enough of a boost to break through the shock and confusion to speak. “No one deserves this more than him.”

“No one deserves this Dean. Not your brother, not me, and especially not you.”

What did she mean? Wasn’t this the goal? The end to a fulfilling life? Heaven? Peace? Rest?

But the pieces start adding up in his mind. The emptiness and quiet of the landscape, eerie and unsettling instead of beautiful and peaceful. Sure, maybe Jack hasn’t got around to finishing all the minor details yet, but even Bobby mentioned other people that should have been around. They’d met at the Roadhouse. Where were Ellen and Jo? Ash? Hell, why hadn’t his parents been there to meet him if they lived so close now? Where was Jack? Sure, he said he was hands-off, but obviously heaven didn’t count. Didn’t he want to see Dean again? Was he really so busy he couldn’t spare a minute to say hi? And what about what Bobby let slip about––

Dean opens his mouth to ask, but no words come out. He tries to shout, straining his throat so much that – were he still alive – he should have burst a blood vessel.

Amara’s gaze is achingly heavy as she watches his struggle.

“I’m so sorry Dean,” she says again. “This isn’t heaven. And you didn’t beat my brother. This is just an illusion he’s using to keep you contained and docile.”

He wants to deny it, keeps trying to yell at her, tell her she’s wrong, but can only manage to shake his head. She has to be lying. They’d won, they were free – they’d beat god himself and got to live their lives they way they wanted to. He was not a helpless plaything to be tossed around by the whims of cosmic powers anymore.

But the words won’t emerge from his lips. An invisible hand tightens against his throat, choking him as he tries to assert his free will. He can hear the echo of Chuck’s laughter as he desperately fights to speak.

Dean can only fall to his knees in silence.

***

Dean drives; he’s still capable of doing that. Amara sits shotgun. It’s weird, but less weird than he expected. He’s used to having someone at his side. It hurts that it’s not Sam with his ridiculous hair blowing into his face all the time and bitching about the music on the radio, but it’s better than being alone.

Dean surprises himself by speaking. “I am sorry for what I did to you.” Guess he’s still able to talk, as long as the topic of conversation has nothing directly to do with whatever the fuck Chuck did to him.

Amara looks over at him and smiles. “I forgive you.”

Dean swallows and refuses to take his eyes off the road. “Why?”

“I understood why you did it. You were scared and desperate and my brother made you feel like you had no choice but to betray and kill those you cared about to ensure your freedom.”

It sounds even worse said aloud by one of the people he betrayed and killed.

As through sensing his spiralling thoughts – and she probably can – Amara reaches over to brush her hand gently against his arm, just above the elbow. “I’m not angry or upset. I mean it when I say I forgive you and I understand. I was scared too, when I realised your intentions, but even more so when I realised how deftly my brother had driven you to such extremes. When I realised he had done the same to me.”

“Why did you do it?” Dean asks, unaware of how desperately he wanted to know until the question bursts out. “Why did you join with him?”

Amara pushes back into the seat as though the firmness of the upholstery will lend her strength. “He’s my brother and I love him. I was scared to be without him. And I suppose I was scared to think about what I was capable of doing if he was capable of doing what he did to you.” She looks over at him, eyes wide and bare to the centre of her being. “You know what I am Dean, better than anyone in existence.”

Dean considers this for a long moment.

“I do know you,” he finally says, turning his gaze – but not his attention – back to the road. “And I believe you when you say you forgive me. So, I can’t believe that you’re capable of doing anything like––” his voice cuts off with a squeak. Dean growls in frustration and finishes his thought by gesturing vaguely around at everything.

She laughs; it’s hollow and dark. “Is this not what you and I schemed to do to my brother?”

“No,” Dean is able to say. “You’re not cruel – malicious – not like him. You care. I know you care. And you try. You try to understand, you try to see things from other perspectives. You wouldn’t want this for anyone. Chuck, he revels in it.”

Dean is the one to reach out to Amara this time: hand open, palm up. Hesitantly, Amara slides her own hand into his and lets him offer comfort with his firm grasp.

“You care, Amara. Not just about yourself, and that … that means everything.”

She squeezes his hand. “You might have had a little to do with that.”

Because of you, I cared.

Dean pulls his hand back, scratching at the back of his neck as though embarrassed. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad. And I’m sorry.”

“Dean, I’ve already forgiven you.”

“Not about that. About what Chuck did to you. I’m sorry he locked you up again.”

Amara sighs. “My brother is very convincing. He promised me the one thing I ever wanted then ensured that I would never have it.”

The one thing I want is something I know I can’t have.

Dean clears his throat, but his voice is still scratchy as he asks, “What is it?”

“Balance. True balance. Light and dark. Creation and destruction. Working together. Existence as it was meant to be.”

“Huh.” Dean had never considered it that way, not really. Darkness, destruction: they were names, ideas, that the human mind associated with evil and wrongness. But Dean knew better – had always known better. He’d lived on the edges of darkness his whole life; he’d destroyed and killed and ended many lives (his own included at times), but he’d never truly considered himself evil. Wrong, sometimes, but he’d also had to make hard and difficult choices that served a long term or bigger picture goal that others might have considered wrong in the moment. Darkness was far more multi-faceted than right or wrong. As was light for that matter.

“You always did understand me, Dean.” Amara is smiling, gentle and content. She is more beautiful than Dean has ever seen her. He wants her to keep smiling.

“I don’t regret it, you know. Freeing you. Sure, some of the circumstances before and after kind of sucked, but I’m glad you’re free. I’m glad I know you.”

“Flirt.” She dismantles the heavy atmosphere and pushes at his shoulder. Dean laughs.

He drives in silence for a time, watching the unchanging empty scenery half-heartedly as he plans what to say. If he can even say it.

“It won’t work,” Amara interrupts before he can pose the question.

“We have to try.”

“My brother is all powerful. Nothing is beyond his control. It won’t work.”

You asked what about all this is real. We are.

Dean smiles. “I know a guy.”

Amara shakes her head. “Why? Why do you do this, knowing you can’t possibly win? How can you still have hope?”

“Because you were right. I don’t deserve this. And you don’t either. And until I’m actually dead and my ashes scattered to the ends of existence, I will keep trying.” He’s a little surprised that he was able to say everything he wanted, but he’s glad. Amara needed to hear it and Dean needed to say it.

Amara sits back, still staring, but hopeful now rather than resigned. “You’re a good man, Dean Winchester. And you deserve to get what you want.”

You're the most caring man on Earth.

You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.

I love you.

Dean smiles. “Yeah.” Maybe he can start to believe it. “Let’s get to work.”

[ganymedesclock]

Do you have any headcanons for pk before he found hallownest and his new/current form?

Boy anon, do I.

So it’s worth noting that Hollow Knight, as a game, has several interesting repeated thematic motifs. The ruined nest is one of them, introduced repeatedly with things like the resting place of the Baldur Shell, the Stag Nest, and the lair of the Brooding Mawlek. Given the, well, animalistic qualities that are retained by the insectoid “humans” of this setting, this smoothly transitions from depictions of wild animals to villages and towns (the Stag Nest itself, but also Dirtmouth, the City of Tears, Deepnest… we see few settlements that are not in a state of decline or ruin)

This is interesting when Hallownest is literally named, well, “Holy Nest”- and PK was quite clearly obsessed with the idea that it would be the greatest, the most sacred, the impeccable, that which would never be destroyed. And we see this obsession in the context that this ostensible impossible destruction came to pass anyway.

Bardoon- the main NPC who tells us about the wyrms- also implies they are dwindling in number, if not outright extinct. His comment on the dead body at Kingdom’s Edge is “with its like gone, the world is smaller.” So at least in this part of the world, wyrms are seemingly extinct, or all ‘passed on to other forms’ in a context where this is not treated as the evolution from a caterpillar to a butterfly.

It is also worth noting PK is… not really shown to be a liar. He is not necessarily shown to be forthcoming with information (Ogrim notes there were other vessels that PK didn’t tell him about, but, he is also not shocked or suggests that he was reassured there were not other vessels) but we don’t see him say things that are directly false as much as, as much as any other narrator in the game, he shows his bias.

This is interesting, because there is one time we find something PK wrote that is actively false, and it’s about the lands beyond the kingdom- the place PK was almost certainly born, and spent some amount of time before Hallownest:

These blasted plains stretch never-ending. There is no world beyond.Those foolish enough to traverse this void must pay the toll and relinquish the precious mind this kingdom grants.

Here’s the thing: even without Silksong coming out showing us that Pharloom exists, as another kingdom beyond Hallownest, Hollow Knight on its own is littered with people who came from somewhere else. Zote, in City of Tears, brags about how he’s seen far more impressive towers than these. Whether or not the towers were that cool is up for debate- but Zote probably didn’t just lie about the fact that buildings exist in places other than Hallownest. Cornifer and Iselda, while young according to Elderbug, are both grown adults and matured and lived among others before coming to Dirtmouth, and Iselda mentioning she thought it was a temporary stop suggests she was of the impression they would keep traveling onto another town.

Tiso and Cloth both came to Hallownest from other places. Quirrel and Ghost, while both returning to it from afar, still spent time out there and in Quirrel’s case we know for certain he met other people.

So PK, who we don’t have a lot of examples of him knowingly lying… is totally wrong about the void. Which seems stupid, because he’d have been out there. He’d have presumably seen people. Someone, somewhere, had to have interacted with a wyrm enough to realize they have powers of foresight, right? If it’s an attempt at propaganda, it’d be a poor one, because Ogrim- one of PK’s top enforcers- openly talks to Ghost about the idea that other people came to Hallownest and settled there, with PK’s sanction, from lands beyond. Hell, PK and his capital city openly bartered with the weavers of Deepnest- who came from Pharloom!

So, if it’s not a deliberate falsehood, what is PK’s statement at the Howling Cliffs?

It’d seemingly suggest a bias. That if PK looks back at his experiences beyond the kingdom, he saw it as a meaningless void, full of mindless creatures. Which makes a bit of sense, if we consider the size of the cast-off shell; the Pale Wyrm was enormous. Compared even to a prodigiously sized being like Bardoon, he is “too small” to be a wyrm.

Existing at this sort of scale, it would be extremely difficult- if he even had the faculties such as a larynx or some form of telepathy- to talk to anyone. Something Bardoon’s size, maybe- but the vast majority of NPCs in the game are nowhere near Bardoon’s size. Most creatures are around the height of Elderbug, who isn’t even half the length of one of PK’s mandibles. And, speaking of Elderbug, it’d be pretty hard not to blame people for not, falling over themselves to talk to a Wyrm.

Especially because we are never told for sure that wyrms, uh, aren’t carnivorous. And a lot of creatures in this setting are.

The thing is though, if PK genuinely has a nihilistic perspective of the world and people because he spent a formative chunk of his youth isolated by virtue of being a godzilla-tier giant monster, this would tell us something interesting:

That PK didn’t have other wyrms around.

There’s more evidence in favor of this, too- the only name this entity is ever called besides “the king” or variants thereof is “the wyrm”. The. Singular. When anyone in Hallownest says “wyrm” they are referring to PK. There is a single mention of a “blackwyrm” by Ogrim in the White Defender’s journal entity, which is not elaborated upon, which would imply pretty strongly, if it was only relevant for a single battle, the blackwyrm, whatever it is, is probably dead; it is definitely out of the picture somehow.

PK does not have a personal name that would distinguish him from other wyrms; the only other wyrm we hear of is distinguished merely by color, which would suggest the “personal” part of his name is “Pale”- he’s the Pale Wyrm, as opposed to the Black Wyrm. Which is not much of a self-descriptor. It is the way wasteland wanderers might identify the wyrms- by whether the creature moving at the edge of their vision is a mountain of white flesh, or gray, or black, or red.

Wyrms do not seem to have much of an interrelated culture. If there’s any quality they are implied to share, it is seeking out and building kingdoms, luring bugs to them, which would suggest however their population goes, they have a tendency to be drawn towards other creatures, not each other.

This is fun, when it’s worth noting we don’t know how long the Pale Wyrm existed before Hallownest. He doesn’t imply he was doing anything he saw as important or valuable out there. If he sees it as a mindless environment, that might well suggest that he himself was basically operating on raw survival instinct- his concerns were eat, sleep, dig, look for more advantageous places to do those things. So he’d have no real reason to delay if he got it in his head he was going to do or be anything else.

Which could mean he was, at least by the standards of his kind, fairly young and inexperienced upon destroying himself to create the Cast-Off Shell. We can’t compare his shell to any other wyrms, because we have no other wyrms. He may not have even been fully grown.

This is something that came up in A Pale Stranger, and influenced my writing of PK there- that I personally read him as having been a very young entity. Even if he may have spent centuries in the windswept desert between kingdoms, he didn’t learn very much or become particularly worldly. He was not educated by others of his kind, and he did not form connections with smaller creatures.

So, Radiance, indignity of indignities, was more or less dethroned from her position by a punk teenager. I also personally like this read because it leads me to the idea that early-Hallownest and pre-Hallownest PK was at a point in his life where he actually had a lot in common with Ghost at the beginning of the game- a peculiar, unsettling stranger, but not necessarily a malicious one, figuring out what they are and what the world they’ve found themselves in is. Especially to the idea that this would come with an unhelpful inclination towards predation, because, what does “a large animal” do when it’s threatened or confronted, or even just trying to make sense of something? Attack it, usually. 

But I also basically run on the headcanon- with the destroyed nests- that PK is functionally an orphan, whether this is simply the usual way wyrms operate or something unusual happened to him, he’s barely at best ever run into others of his species, and those encounters happened after he rejected that part of himself. And this kinda, creates some problems, because it means he basically has no model that isn’t trial-and-error self-assembled for what he even is.

[hk-plus-you]

hopefully this is alright, but could you maybe do headcanons of mato comforting a really sad and apathetic grown vessel (about the age/size of THK) if its okay?

This took me so long to write and I still don’t know why

You couldn’t remember how long it had been since you left the abyss. You knew you had grown a lot, the nail you had before leaving your birthplace nothing more than a dagger you abandoned long ago. You had no need for such a small weapon, choosing to take one from the many adventures who died foolish deaths. It’s not like it was any use to them anymore.

At first, you wondered about desperately trying to find a place you would be safe with people who would actually care for you. The wilderness was unforgiving, any creature attacking you on sight. The few sentient bugs you came across were just as lost as you and often unwilling to lend aid to a silent small bug like you.

You stopped caring about that, trying to force your want for others away. In a way, you become like the creatures with no mind, uncaring for each other and doing anything for the sake of survival. It was either that or becoming the dirt for another traveler to walk on.

You could feel it long before you saw the old tablets. You’re sire’s kingdom radiated his energy. It seemed to have faded with time though, another’s beginning to slowly overwhelm it.

You should turn back and go back to the wilderness you were accustomed to. No one had wanted you when you were little, your own father casting you back into your wretched birthplace when he saw your imperfections. Why would anyone treat you any differently now?

As you gazed over the small village you decided not to take that jump to the ground below. You left everything behind thinking you wouldn't come back anyway.

You crawled back the way you came. The wind’s dull whisper now whistling through the cave systems as it picked up.

As you left the caves you found the wind outside much stronger. It wiped your cloak around you. Each step was difficult to take and you had to crouch down to make the trek easier.

One of the bodies that littered the outskirts began to tumble. Its hollow body lightweight and upright position making it easy for the wind to pick up and hurl at you. Even with your attempt to duck it shattered on you horns sending you off balance and tumbling backward.

Maybe staying till the wind cleared up some wouldn’t hurt.

You searched for a short moment for a place to rest for the night. It wasn't hard to find. An entrance in a wall with nothing but a cloth curtain was easy to spot.

Inside there was a large creature’s head place flush against the wall. A crack running from one of its four eyes to the opposite side of its head. Pillows were scattered around and a large stone slab off-center of the room with a blanket thrown over. Cloth hung from the ceiling was torn and frayed. A single nail was stabbed into the ground. With every door open, the general age of the room, and the nail you assumed that the area here was abandoned.

You chose not to venture forward into the area and just close each door in the room to prevent any bug already inside or any outside from entering.

You gathered all the pillows into one area to rest. The slab would make a decent bed but it was rare for you to sleep somewhere soft so you weren't going to pass up the opportunity. For the first time in a long while, you fell asleep almost immediately.

The door creaked as it opened. You jolted awake and jumped up, nail in hand and ready to fight anyone or anything that came through.

The bug that walked through was large, a red and black shell and cloak with fur lining around their neck and shoulders. They seemed somewhat shocked to see someone in their room but upon seeing your nail their demeanor changed.

”A welder of the nail! I’m guessing you found my sanctuary while you were searching for a place to rest?” you gave a nod but they only continued on their own train of thought. ”It’s quite impressive! You must have met and overcome many trails in your quest to find me.” You had no idea what he was talking about but he certainly was excited about what he prattling on about. ”I, Nailmaster Mato, who was taught the Art of the Nail by the Great Nailsage himself, hereby accept you as my pupil! Let us begin the lesson immediately!”

Wait what?

Mato turned before you could even process what he said and began walking back to where he came.

You thought for a moment. Should you follow? Why would he just willingly teach any random person with a nail?

He paused down the hallway that the doorway led to and turned to look at you. ”My pupil, why do you hesitate? Do you think yourself unworthy of my Nail Art? Do not fret. I too was once like you, unsure of my own strength.”

You shook your head and followed him. You could learn whatever he had to teach you.

Training began in a large room. He first demonstrated what he wished to teach before instructing how to do it yourself. A nail art called cyclone slash.

Each time you tried it though you couldn't keep your balance well enough. Either falling over, wobbling enough that your nail would slash the floor instead of remaining stead, or just not spinning fast enough.

After the first day, you were prepared to give up. He was right, you were unworthy of learning his nail art. Not strong enough and only failing at every turn no matter how hard you tried. You knew he would cast you out as a failure just as anyone else had done so when he decided to stop for the day you began to walk out shortly after.

”Where are you going, my pupil? We still have so much to go over. Even if you didn't master the lesson I had to teach today there is always tomorrow! I believe I know why you struggle so much with balance anyway so we can work together with fixing it.” You tilted your head at him somewhat in confusion as he continued to speak. ”Now don't give up on yourself after one day. My own brother Oro wielded his nail like a club but with the right training, he still became a nail master. Even if I don’t agree with the path he chose in the end. Come now and help me prepare dinner. After such a training session you must be hungry!”

You stopped leaving and decided to see how long till he would cast you back into the wilderness. You helped prepare dinner with Mato and trained the next day.

”If you don't mind me asking, who before me taught you how to fight?” You had just been showing him your stance when he began asking questions.

You pointed to yourself since you had only learned from watching others.

”Self-taught? For being self-taught you are a wonderful fighter! Though you need some adjustments in your style. Your stance, for example, is too wide. With such large horns as yours, it's important to keep a stable center or your balance will be off.”

The whole day was like that. Small corrections to your form and posture. Going over the basic things and correcting the little things as you two went along. The whole time he didn't shy away from giving you praise when you did well and didn't belittle you for not know something that would be basic knowledge to someone else.

It felt strange for someone to see you as a person rather than a burden or liability.

An extra day of training turned to two. Two turned to three. Three turned into a whole month of making sure the proper basics were ingrained and teaching other tricks you had missed.

When Mato said he would try and teach you cyclone slash again you felt proud of yourself.

You curled up as in your makeshift bed while Mato slept on the stone slab to rest as you always did. He fell asleep quickly, making so little sound and being as still as a statue you could mistake him for dead.

You were awake, thinking of what would happen tomorrow. If you mastered what he had to teach would he be done with you? Would tell you to leave now that you learned everything he had to teach?

Why would he even keep you around? What would he get out of it? It hurt to think about, the one person you had grown close to forcing you out and away.

It was only a month but you struggled to accept going back to the wilderness all alone.

The pillow you rested on began to fill wet and you had to sit up. A drop of water landed in your lap and you touched your face to find that for the first time, you were crying.

You rubbed your eyes to try and make it stop but failed. Tears fell free and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop it.

Trying to ignore the water pouring from your eyes and leaned against the wall behind you. There was no way you would sleep like this.

Why did you care so much about this? It was inevitable that he would kick you out at some point. Why would he want some random silent nobody to stay forever?

You threw a pillow in frustration and slammed your back against the wall.

That seemed to be enough to wake Mato though. He grunted slightly as he rolled over to face you and see what was happening.

Fantastic, maybe he’d throw you out tonight instead for disturbing him.

”What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?” Mato got off the stone slab and kneeled before you.

You shake your head and look away from him. It’s not like you ever spoke and even if you could you would never admit the actual reason you were crying.

He pulled you into a tight hug and rubbed comforting circles on your back. He was warm and you couldn't stop yourself from burying your face into the fur of his cloak. ”I don't know what is upsetting you my pupil but I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be.”

If he’s saying things like that maybe he won't kick you out?

Right?

[theshadowspecter]

Nuisance

(Bloom: I need to keep leaving notes at the top so I can add a line break under this. Death is only assumed in this one, but I think for future chapters I’ll just tag it instead of commentating on it. Also I can’t draw boats.)

Abigail awoke to sunlight pouring through her window onto her face. She sat up, the paper she had been using as a pillow sticking to her cheek. She pulled it off, glancing it over. It was a list of things she had to do, and a few notes to think about while devising her next trip to Subcon. Her to-do list comprised of meeting with the Mafia Boss and telling him the bad news about the fellow Mafia man, meeting with the Conductor to tell him the bad news about the owl, and manage to convince not 1, but 2 others to follow her into the forest. And once they were in Subcon, she would have to find a way to deal with those...those beings that worked for Snatcher. At the thought of the shadowy specter, she remembered what he had said the first time they met, 'THERE USED TO BE SEARCH PARTIES'. An idea forming in her head, Abigail quickly left, headed for Mafia HQ.

“And just where have you been? And where is the one who went with you?” The boss wasted no time interrogating her the moment she arrived in his throne room. She squared her shoulders; the Mafia boss was intimidating, sure, but next to Snatcher his temper was almost laughable. She wasn't afraid of speaking up to him, “I've been in that forest you said I could go to. We got separated, and I've spent most of my time trying to find him. Those woods are very dark and very big, so eventually I had to give up and come back, which I did, last night.” She lied. But what did it matter? He wouldn't have believed the truth, that's for sure.

The boss, who had gotten off his throne to scold her, sat back down to think. “This is not good, a Mafia member lost in those woods...he is not the first.”

This was Abigail's moment; she approached the Boss, “why don't we send a search party out? Just a small one? Me and, oh, maybe 2 other mafia?”

“You want to go back?!” The Boss all but shouted, “That forest has claimed many of my men!”

“What about me, then?” She argued, “I made it out!”

Silence followed as the Boss pondered this. Abigail stared him down, waiting. Finally, the Boss nodded, “I will give you 1 last chance. Go back to the woods and find him. However,” he held up a finger, “you may only bring 1 other Mafia member with you. And it shall be 1 that I choose!” Abigail gave a slight bow, “understood,” and walked away.

'That didn't go nearly as bad as I thought it would!' she thought. Knowing the Boss, she would probably find her 'search party' waiting outside her home either tonight or tomorrow morning. She considered going to Dead Bird Studios and dealing with the Conductor, maybe doing the same song and dance and getting another Express Owl to join in, but ultimately decided against it. It was risky enough going back with even 1 extra person. Getting a jump on learning some history was not worth risking the lives of these people. If it weren't for the contract, she wouldn't even be bringing others in the first place! That reminded her, she had to come up with some way to keep both Snatcher and his...entourage at bay long enough to mark her progress on the contract and get the Mafia man she was bringing with her out of the woods alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seemed like in no time at all, Abigail was back on her speedboat, Mafia man in tow, with Subcon on the horizon. She had a plan on how to evade the forest's inhabitants...or at least not alert them to her accomplice. Once the boat pulled up on the outskirts of the forest, she tied it up but halted the Mafia. “You stay right here, ok? I'm going to retrace my steps to where I last saw Mafia, then come back for you. I need you to stay here and guard my boat.” The Mafia gave a gruff nod, and she took off at a brisk pace deeper into the woods.

'This had better work,' she thought to herself as she retraced her footsteps. She had hoped that the smaller beings, and maybe even Snatcher himself, wouldn't go into direct sunlight. Subcon was in perpetual night, after all, so it made sense. The crackle of fire interrupted her thoughts. It was either more fire spirits or...”the firewall,” she gasped, coming across the beginnings of it. Her latest contract, just like her initial one, had said she was to stay inside the firewalls, so that must mean these lead to Snatcher's home. Perfect! She broke into a light jog, adrenaline and anxiety fueling her need to get to the middle of the forest as soon as she could...

She came upon the clearing with the giant hollowed tree much faster than she had anticipated, and she paused to catch her breath. From her viewpoint, the interior was blocked from view, so she cautiously approached, unsure of what to see. When she finally was able to glance in, she paused. Snatcher was there, right there. He looked...either slightly smaller or just less intimidating, and he was curled up on a big red chair, deep into a book. She nervously knocked on the side of the tree, hoping he wouldn't get mad being interrupted from his reading. “HMM?” he said, looking up from his book, “OH. IT'S YOU. WHAT BRINGS YOU BACK HERE SO QUICKLY? DON'T TELL ME YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER SOUL LINED UP FOR ME ALREADY?”

“First of all, my name's Abigail, a-”

“YEAH YEAH AND I'M SURE THAT OWL FROM YESTERDAY HAD A NAME TOO. BUT GUESS WHAT? I DON'T CARE. NOW DID YOU BRING ANOTHER VICTIM WITH YOU OR NOT?”

“I brought somebody with me, yes, but he's waiting back a ways for me to return. Said he was too scared. So I figured I'd tell him to wait, come find you, go back to him to tell him all is good, lead him right to you and...well...” she trailed off. “WOW. I'M ACTUALLY SORT OF IMPRESSED! WHO KNEW YOU COULD BE SUCH GOOD BAIT!” “Yeah yeah,” she waved it off, “but before I go I was hoping you could mark that part of my contract off? I'd rather not stick around for...what you've got planned...” “SURE THING!” the specter cheerily obliged, snapping his talons. She pulled the contract out and saw a little tally mark.

She started to leave before Snatcher stopped her, “I'VE GOT TO WONDER, WHY DID YOU COME TO MY FOREST IN THE FIRST PLACE?”

She looked back at him, “to learn about its history.”

“YOU COULD'VE JUST READ A BOOK.”

The history nerd in her started speaking up, “The history I want to learn about isn't written in books. Subcon's history ends with the last Ice Age. I was simply curious why nobody had tried to claim the land and fix it. Also why there were so many disappearances.” She paused, “well...you're the reason for the disappearances, but why is Subcon still like this? Why is it still so dead, even though the air is ripe with magic? There's a huge gap in the history of this forest, and I'm just a curious girl with a passion for history.”

“YOU'RE MORE LIKE A NUISANCE.” Snatcher thought for a moment, “TELL YOU WHAT. BRING AT LEAST ONE MORE VICTIM INTO MY FOREST, AND I'LL TELL YOU A LITTLE BIT ABOUT ITS PAST.” Abigail's eyes lit up, “really?!” “THINK OF IT AS AN INCENTIVE! THAT SHOULD GET YOU BRINGING OTHERS IN AT RECORD SPEED!” Abigail couldn't help but grin as she started to turn on her heel when she stopped, “wait a minute!” she spun around, “I know your game.” Snatcher froze, looking at her questioningly. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out her contract. Giving him a smug look she stated, “I want that in writing. An addendum.” Snatcher gave a small laugh, “OH YOU ARE A NUISANCE! VERY WELL!” He flicked his hand and an addendum appeared on the contract stating that after the next delivery of a soul into the forest, Snatcher would tell her a bit of Subcon history. “DON'T EXPECT ANYTHING FROM WHEN PEOPLE WERE ALIVE,” he added, “I DIDN'T ARRIVE IN SUBCON UNTIL AFTER THE...INCIDENT.” He said the last word with a bit of anger. Abigail took pause to consider what that meant, before tucking it away to consider later. Instead, she gave a nod, “understood,” and left.

On the way back she remembered she had wanted to know more about those small creatures, but decided she could just ask him the next time they met.

All seemed to be going well....at least until she got back to where she had left the Mafia man, and found the place deserted. Her boat was still where she had left it, but no Mafia. 'No, no!' She thought 'I'm so close! Where could he have gone?'

Her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of one of those hooded figures. “The boss says not to worry, he found your friend.” Abigail felt like her heart sopped. “D...did you know where 'my friend' was?” The little one happily nodded, “yeah! We lead him right to one of Boss's traps!” “Traps?”, the girl questioned, remembering those vines that appeared when she brought the owl. The other nodded, “yeah, Boss keeps traps around. Don't fall into one, he hates when that happens!”

Making heed of the little one's warning, she began to walk back to her boat. “Well, I've got to head home now.” Without waiting for a reply, she sprinted back to her vessel and jumped in. Before she roared the engine into life, she took a glance back into the forest.

The ...'Subconite' was gone.

Once back in Mafia Town, Abigail decided to tell the Mafia boss about the disaster of a trip. He...did not take it lightly.

“Because of YOU, the Mafia lost two members! What do you have to say for yourself?” “I'm sorry!,” she pleaded, well aware of the two Mafia behind her, blocking her only way out. She continued, “if you want, I'll go back on my own and-” “NO!” The Boss shouted, “you will pay! Mafia!” On cue, the two brutes behind her went in for the attack. Luckily, she was able to move out of the way fast enough to avoid capture, as well as slip past them and back outside. She heard the Boss call out, “Mafia! Attack!”

Running out of the Boss's main room back into the main casino area, she saw the entire place up in arms to get her. Luckily, since she worked there, she knew of a back exit. She scrambled into the kitchen, out the back door, and out the back of Mafia HQ.. Taking the secret entrance gave her maybe ten minutes before the rest of the Mafia made it down to the main streets, and then the whole town would be after her! Nobody messed with the Boss, and now she was on his hit list!

Luckily it didn't take long for her to get to her little house. She burst in, grabbing her backpack and stuffing all that she could find and fit into it. Her notebook, camera, some of her favorite books and some clothes. By the time she left her house, she heard a Mafia call out “there she is! Mafia stop you!”, and knew she had overstayed her welcome. She sprinted down the street away from the mob, using her fear to fuel her adrenaline to get her down to her boat before she got caught. As soon as she saw her boat, she also saw about five more Mafia around the docks, though by the looks of it they were just boxing fish, so they hadn't heard the call to arms. Thankful for the Mafia's bad form of communication, Abigail jumped into her boat, threw the rope off, and throttled the engine. With a roar and a splash of water, she was off! Looking back at Mafia Town, she saw a few Mafia standing near where her boat had been. They had just missed her.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Abigail faced forward. She'd stay at Dead Bird Studios for a little bit, until things cooled down around home. With that matter settled, her thoughts turned back to the only thing she thought about lately: her contract. As her boat sped through the waves, she pulled out her parchment and looked it over again. A person a week...well, tragic as it was, that Mafia member did count for a whole week, so she had a few days to actually calm down and find a workable solution to this issue. 'No more deaths. Not mine, nor anyone else's! I'll beat that Snatcher at his own game!'

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Just Another Soldier Chapter 7

Yon-Rogg x reader

Summary:  Post-snap

Word Count: 1621

A/N: Okay, this was written before Endgame came out, so it was just me speculating. I might eventually branch off and write another that follows the plot for real, but this one IS NOT CANON COMPLIANT IN THE SLIGHTEST. Also, since it was written before, it’s got no spoilers, but I doubt anyone that cares has still not seen it by the time this goes live. ALSO, as usual, this is all I’ve got for the time being on this one (as of 28 May 2019), and I’m not actively planning more. Later down the line I might add to it, so check the Masterlist if you’re reading it a decent amount of time after the listed date, but as of that date, I’ve got nothing to add to this.

“We’re going to need backup if we’re going to make this plan work,” Steve was saying. What remained of the Avengers after the snap—Carol and Nebula included—were gathered in the meeting room. “We need an army strong enough to act as a distraction. Anyone got any ideas?”

Carol was the first to speak up. “I might have a couple strings I can pull, but I don’t know if they made it through.”

“Find out. Right now, I don’t care where they come from.”

“Enemy of my enemy …” Scott muttered.

“Exactly.”

It was a matter of hours once Carol sent her messages and already there were two simultaneous proximity alerts announcing two arrivals. The others were resting, but Steve and Carol stepped outside to greet the two ships.

A skrull left his ship first.

“Steve, this is Talos. He’s an old friend.”

“What’s this I hear about you planning on attacking Thanos?” the alien smiled. “It’s good to see you, Carol.”

“You too,” she replied, happily hugging her friend. “Your family?”

“All safe. We all escaped alive, surprisingly. Many others were not that lucky. That’s why I’m here.”

“Thank you for coming,” Steve said earnestly.

“Of course.” Talos glanced over his shoulder at the other ship. “Am I mistaken, or is that a Kree vessel?”

“It is,” Carol’s voice was noticeably on-edge. “You’ll want to get behind me when they come out. Just in case. I’m not sure who it was that picked up my call.”

“Oh, now that’s just delightful.” The hatch of the other hip hissed as it started opening, so he moved as instructed. “I’ve got a ten-man squad in my ship, by the way.”

“That’s gr—” Carol cut herself off at the sight of the person that was descending the ramp. “Oh, no . . .”

It was Y/N. Or rather, it looked more like the ghost of Y/N. Her once practically glowing emerald suit was dulled by scorch marks and scuffs. Old bloodstains that hadn’t been cleaned surrounded tears in places like the abdomen and left leg.

I really hope she isn’t hurt, Carol thought.

The most striking feature, however, was her face. The warrior captain was pale, her eyes red and tired. Memories of that conversation Carol had eavesdropped on danced around her mind. Back then, Y/N had said she’d never seen her husband look so tired. Now, it seemed it was her turn.

“Y/N …” Carol breathed.

“Vers,” the woman greeted stiffly.

Carol didn’t bother to correct her old friend. “What happened?”

“I think you can guess. He didn’t make it, and I didn’t get to say goodbye. I just woke up to a bed full of dust.”

Steve winced upon hearing that. He knew nothing about this beaten-looking stranger, but he knew how it felt to watch his best friend vanish. Just waking to that … The pain would be unimaginable. He could infer that this mystery man was someone both females knew, but this woman was obviously involved with him romantically.

“Thank you for coming despite … everything, I guess.”

Talos wanted to make a remark about how this woman was Kree—a ruthless one at that he’d learned from the one time they’d crossed paths on the battlefield—but it was clear that she was still mourning. As vicious as her kind could be, no one in the universe had deserved the fate bestowed upon them by the Titan.

Cold, Y/E/C eyes met Carol’s. “I just want my husband back.”

That was all the prompting Carol needed to jog forward and hug her friend. “We’ll bring him back. Him and everyone else.”

The soldier met Talos’ eyes over Carol’s shoulder. Worry lanced through his heart for an instant before the woman nodded. It was a clear sign between the old soldiers that they would find no enemy this day. He solemnly returned the gesture.

“Let’s head inside,” Steve announced once the moment passed. “Talos, bring your troops. Everyone needs to meet to make this plan work.”

It was the night before they put phase one of the plan into action, and of course Steve couldn’t sleep. And from his ensuing wandering around the base, it looked like not many people could. Clint was holed up in the air vents, Natasha in the gym, Tony and Rhodes were in the shop with Banner. Steve could almost believe it was a normal night. If not for the hollow feeling that haunted almost everyone in the building, that is.

So really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he stumbled across a certain Kree captain on the room, standing by the railing and looking up at the stars.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The words left his mouth before he thought about how cliché they were.

She didn’t seem to mind, though. “No.”

He took up the place next to her. “It’s still amazing to think that you guys came from up there,” the man from another time admitted, eyes gazing up at the stars in wonder.

“I suppose it would be impressive around here,” she mused. “Where I’m from it’s pretty standard.”

“Where are you from?”

“A Kree colony at first. Descended from Asgardians somewhere up in the family tree … Moved to Hala after the colony was destroyed. Called it home ever since.”

Steve chuckled. “Descended from Asgardians, huh? That have anything to do with Carol telling me she could never beat you in a spar?”

Y/N actually laughed. “Maybe, but don’t tell her that. Got to keep some of the mystery somehow. At least, that’s what my husband used to say.”

“Would it be rude if I asked you about him? He’s obviously important to you.”

“It’s fine. We’d just celebrated our 34th anniversary he week before it happened. Known each other since we were fifteen …”

Old memories started to play behind her eyelids. That time on Volda, that first spar, even all the times Vers had woken them early itching for a fight. The one that stuck out however was the time he proposed.

They’d been on leave on a war, frosted planet she couldn’t recall the name of not long after finally finishing their time on Volda. She’d complained that she wanted to enjoy the local sun’s warmth after all that time in the cold and mud, so they spent part of the day dozing on the cabin’s porch.

At some point, she ended up lying with her head in his lap as he watched the local fauna walk by obliviously. The yellow sunlight made his hair appear almost blond, and made those golden eyes practically glow. “This is perfect,” she’d murmured, hand squeezing the one he had resting on her stomach.

He inhaled as if to say something as he looked down at her and seemingly cut himself off. One of those smiles that only lasts a second but leaves the corners of the lips quirked up for hours flitted across his face. “Yes, it is.” The love in those molten eyes could not be mistaken as anything else. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”

She shook her head, having an inkling of where he was going with this. “Not really. You know as well as I that it’s not exactly the norm for soldiers.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “Well, what would you say if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“I think I’d have to ask you to marry me.” She sat up as she spoke, eyes never leaving his as she moved to straddle his legs.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Yon-Rogg, will you—” She was cut off by his lips meeting hers. The scruff of his beard scratched at her skin as they kissed.

“Of course I will,” came his reply hours later once they were snuggled together under the large bed’s plush covers.

She pressed a sleepy kiss to his shoulder. “Good.”

The memory ended, and she opened her eyes, returning to the present where Steve was still standing quietly beside her. “Sorry,” she apologized quietly.

“It’s not a problem. My best friend was lost … I’d just gotten him back … He was the only one I knew back before I went into the ice.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” she tried to joke. The smile was half-hearted, but he appreciated the effort.

“Deal.”

Steve was the first to fish out a couple pictures of his best friend. One was old. Black-and-whit old. And it showed a rather handsome man in a military uniform. The other was clearly new. Crystal clear, full color. It showed the same man, this time tired around the eyes and scruffier, with longer hair. “James Buchanan Barnes. Pulled me out of so many fights when we were kids. Hydra, real bad guys, took him and made him a weapon. I just got him back. He was recovering before Thanos came.”

“Handsome guy.”

“Easy now,” Steve chuckled. “You’re a married woman.”

“Speaking of,” with that, she used her suit’s computer to display a hologram of her husband. It hurt, looking at the three-dimensional rendering of him standing there proudly in his uniform. The photo had been taken a handful of days before the snap; he’d just gotten a promotion. Mischief sparkled in those golden eyes even in the hologram, and a smirk pulled at his lips. She hadn’t looked at the photo since she woke up without him, covered in his remains. She couldn’t bare to. Even now, she felt nausea creeping through her very being, forcing her to close the image after a few moments. “Sorry, I can’t—”

Steve seemed to understand. He gently squeezed her shoulder in solidarity. “Handsome guy.”

She could only fight back a sob.

[under-the-lake]

Crimes of Grindelwald:  The Phoenix, the Blood Pact and the Skull -  More Questions than Answers

When watching Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (in Newt’s Suitcase) - The Crimes of Grindelwald, many questions arise, first of which is WHERE ARE THE CRIMES? Grindelwald doesn’t really commit any crime in this film, apart from a couple of murders, which, given Grindelwald’s record, can be considered trifles. Unanswered question as of yet.

Many things happening in the film seem to make no or not much sense:

1. What about this mess during Grindelwald’s escape? - What about the blood pact?

2. The For-The-Greater-Good- Narghile-Projector-Skull, 1898

3. Is Credence really a Dumbledore?

4. McGonagall cannot have been teaching at Hogwarts in 1927. In Order of the Phoenix, she says she’s been teaching at Hogwarts for 39 years. And OoP is roughly 70 years after CoG...

I won’t develop more than the first two points. I guess there’s not enough evidence for or against the Credence is a real Dumbledore thingy to make a fair point, yet there are a lot of theories out on the web. And the last point, well, it speaks for itself. So either Production and Rowling changed the canon, which means reprint books with the right dates and review all the data about McGonagall, or admit the film bit with her is crap. Plus she’s so much out of character that it’s just a joke anyway.

1. Grindelwald’s Escape Mess and the Blood Pact Business 

When I watched the beginning of the film, it made no sense to me. Unless, as it dawned on me right after it, Abernathy and Grindelwald had already swapped bodies before the transfer took place, and Abernathy would be the one in the carriage, the Grindelwald without a tongue. SWAPPED BODIES. Yeh. Not used Polyjuice Potion, but actually Transfigured into the other. We know that Grindelwald is a fearfully skilled bloke, but that’s something we haven’t seen yet. I mean he spent a lot of time as Percival Graves, but that was only Transfiguring himself. 

Anyway, had the plan not backfired, Grindelwald would be free and Abernathy would have been tried in London and probably sent to Azkaban since the UK Wizarding Community has no death penalty. Still, that would have given Grindelwald the freedom to act in the shadows and eventually reach his goal, changing the script rather thoroughly.

Now why didn’t this trick work? Why did Grindelwald have to get inside the carriage eventually? Because of the Bloody Blood Pact.

What is a blood pact?

A blood pact, or blood oath, is an agreement between the parties that is traditionally sealed with a mixing of blood from all who take the oath. It sometimes involves spilling the blood, or drinking it. It can also be a more allegorical description of an oath. The most common is blood-brotherhood, or any kind of pact of non-agression and boundless loyalty between parties. According to some academic sources, blood pacts have been considered from the 12th century onwards as satanic, or primitive and non Christian (what a surprise), thus helping the building of the construct of the barbarian in the Middle Ages. And besides, that makes me smile because what else is the foundation of Christian religion but a blood pact of sorts between Jesus getting crucified and his followers? Pact which is, moreover, re-enacted during every mass by Catholics?

History has many instances of blood pacts recorded. One of them is part of Hungarian history, when the heads of seven tribes swore a blood oath to one amongst them, thus acknowledging him as their leader. It was around 830 AD. The blood was kept in a vessel.

I read that in East Africa, among the Maasai, blood oaths were made to form blood brotherhood, and they meant that no harm could be done among the brothers. That is rather close to what Dumbledore and Grindelwald made. 

In early Mongolia and China, blood brotherhood was seen as something more intertribal than individual. Whole societies were bound together by the oath of two people. It is said that Genghis Khan’s dad was blood brother with his friend, and that the young Genghis Khan himself, when he was still called Temujin, had a sworn brother since childhood.

Some historical events also happened with a ‘blood oath’ that was only so called because of its seriousness, but not involving any real bloodshed. For instance, in 1842, Joseph Smith instituted the endowment ritual in Nauvoo, Illinois, USA. It was later known as the penalty, in Mormonism, and the words and gestures were removed from the rituals in 1990. Critics call it a blood oath because of the words of the actual oath, that speak of bloodshed (like cutting the throat). Similar vows are found in Freemasonry at the beginning of the 19th century.

This side of the Pond, Norsemen used blood oaths to become foster-brothers. That happens for instance in the Icelandic story of Gisli the Outlaw, where the taking of the oath is described in detail. The four men in the story end up not carrying on. They do shed blood on turf together, but at the moment of tying hands, withdraw. Blood-brotherhood is something rather common in Norse mythology too. For example, Loki and Thor are said to have shared blood in the days of old, which is one of the reasons why Loki would be tolerated at all by the Gods.

So apparently, Grindelwald and Dumbledore did something of the like, and they also did, as some cultures would have done  keep the blood in a vessel (and that would include the Holy Grail... no comment) .

Why did Grindelwald need a blood pact in the first place and why is it he who keeps it and not Dumbledore?

Theories are flooding the wizarding network. One of them is that Grindelwald was nice and happy when he came to visit his auntie in Godric’s Hollow (see pic; from https://www.pottermore.com/features/the-life-and-times-of-albus-dumbledore). Come on, folks. He was already gathering followers in Durmstrang, was expelled for using Dark Magic and was already in quest of the Hallows. I personally think that Grindelwald never was caring and affectionate towards Dumbledore, but always the manipulative, ambitious and unscrupulous bloke we know. A former Voldermort, without Horcruxes. 

Second thing. According to Rowling, Grindelwald was a Seer. Remember that letter in Rita Skeeter’s The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore ? Here it is:

Gellert-

 Your point about wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLE’S OWN GOOD - this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and, yes, that power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the rules. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counter-arguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this follows that we meet resistance, we must see only the force that is necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled, we would never have met.)

Albus

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chapter 18, pp. 395-396

Well. Here’s a theory based on this: How come Grindelwald went to meet Dumbledore just after the latter graduated from Hogwarts? How come he suddenly discovered Bathilda was family? Bathilda who lived across the road from the Dumbledores in Godric’s Hollow. If Grindelwald was a Seer, he might have Seen that Dumbledore was the man to thwart him in the future. He might also have Seen this letter. So would he want to finish his education in Durmstrang or get to the man who was to be his downfall but who was to fall in love with him? The other most powerful wizard of his generation? Maybe Grindelwald actually got himself expelled intentionally, to be free. I argue it’s Grindelwald’s ambition, fear and cunning that drove him to Godric’s Hollow, that he never had the slightest bit of positive feeling towards Dumbledore, and that he came intentionally to find a way to keep Dumbledore out of his way: the Blood Pact. 

BUT. Love is one of the main themes in Rowling’s wizarding world. Love as a means of protection. I therefore argue that the Blood Pact is NOT the thing that actually prevents the two men from fighting each other. It would only work as a magical artifact if both wizards’ intentions were pure and positive. So Grindelwald used Dumbledore as a weapon against Dumbledore himself. His love for Grindelwald is the thing that prevents Dumbledore from attacking, not the Pact. I think the pact acts like a Prophecy: it only works because one makes it work. So Grindelwald relies on Dumbledore’s love as a protection. Dumbledore was completely besotted with Grindelwald and Grindelwald used that as much as he could. That is also why Grindelwald had to keep the Pact and not Dumbledore: because it had no affective value for him, and he most certainly would not seek to destroy it, whilst Dumbledore might, once he realised he had been manipulated. That might also account for the pretty thorough bit of thinking that Dumbledore must have made about Love and about Prophecies… and that he shares with Harry in Half-Blood Prince, for instance.

So basically the Pact is Grindelwald’s ultimate protection against Dumbledore because Dumbledore loves Grindelwald. All right. Now how come, if that is the case, that by the end of the film Grindelwald hasn’t noticed that the thing had disappeared (remember, Newt’s Niffler nicked it during the Père Lachaise rally)? He was so keen on getting it back at the beginning, in the flooded carriage… I mean normal people would check their possessions after a meeting like the Père Lachaise one. Moreover, I don’t think that they only just arrived in Nurmengard when the final scene takes place. So why not worry about the Pact? Is the feeling of completion of having Credence finally in his grip so overwhelming that the pact is forgotten? A bit like Voldy doesn’t feel it when the first Horcruxes are destroyed?

I’m also curious about how the Pact is going to be destroyed and why it does take another 18 years. Provided it is destroyed. Fighting without destroying the Pact might get us back to the Dumbledore-Aberforth-Grindelwald duel that resulted in the death of Ariana. I don’t think any of the three wizards killed her, but her death might have impressed upon Dumbledore the power of Grindelwald, his unscrupulousness, and the might of the Pact as an obstacle to their confrontation.

2. The For-The-Greater-Good-Narghile-Projector-Skull, 1898

My first impression on seeing this skull in the hands of Grindelwald’s assistant Rosier made me think of a Muggle magic show. Impress people, show them stuff they don’t or can’t grasp. Lure them. Pure Grindelwald. Pure any dictator.

The Skull is a human one, without the lower jaw. It is engraved with Grindelwald’s symbol, the double G that reminds me so much of a swastika. It also has a date, 1898, and a German inscription: ‘Für das Größere Wohl’, which translates to ‘For the Greater Good’, and which is supposedly Grindelwald’s motto. It was also used by Dumbledore in that letter he sent his ‘friend’ in 1899 when they met in Godric’s Hollow (see above). People all over the internet tend to say Dumbledore invented the phrase. Well he did not. It was coined way earlier, and for instance it was used by Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832) who was a British jurist, philosopher and advocate of utilitarianism and animal rights. In the ideological duel that opposed Dumbledore and Grindelwald, using a phrase from utilitarianism is full of sense. Utilitarianism is a moral theory that explores the ethical reasons of action. An action can be morally acceptable or not, depending on its consequences. In our situation it’s the debate about why wizardkind should rule the Muggles. The reason for seizing power is different in both men. Dumbledore has positive ideas, Grindelwald thinks domination.

Many theories are out in the wild about the date on the skull. 1898 is one year before Grindelwald and Dumbledore met. If we stick to the idea that Grindelwald had a vision of the letter mentioned above, then he could have taken the phrase from there to use it and lure Dumbledore. He might also have simply come across it, but he doesn’t seem to me like someone who’d delve into philosophy books, nor care about what people thought. Using the quote is proof he’s manipulating people around him, for sure, and maybe he used the letter, maybe not. 

The weirdest bit to me is the narghile-projector. The Skull appears to be an object used by Grindelwald to project his visions so that other people can see them. A bit like a Pensieve, but with the show-off factor. The thoughts are actually blown into it via the mouth, whilst in the Pensieve, it is quite rational that they would come from the head and not the lungs. They are blown through a hose that is actually connected to the back of the skull, not the Foramen Magnum (the hole where the spinal marrow reaches the brain and only hole sizeable enough in a skull, apart from the eyes, nasal cavities and mouth). So I guess the skull was damaged to attach the hose. I mention this because it’s again showing how much respect Grindelwald has for anything. 

Grindelwald is a Seer, according to Rowling. So when he projects images of WW2 during his meeting in the Lestrange Vault in the Cimetière du Père Lachaise, he’s actually using this incredibly powerful way to get people to rally his cause: fear. Using the threat of a second war after peoples having barely recovered from the first, and economy being on the brink of implosion, is a very cunning move. Fear has always been the main vehicles of the rise to power of dictators. They need to be feared because the usually fear everyone. I won’t be analysing this too much here, because I’m planning another paper about that very issue.

To summarise, we can simply say the Skull is a way to show off and intimidate people. Next to that, even Circus Arcanus is schoolyard stuff.

3. The Phoenix

I’m not willing to discuss weather Credence is Aurelius and where he would be from. I don’t reckon there is enough evidence to make a point. However, I want to have a look into the phoenix, as a bird.

Let’s start with basics for beginners: Newt’s book. It is said that the Phoenix is the only creature that Newt might not have encountered on his travels. Might be he saw one in Dumbledore’s office, who knows when he got Fawkes. Ministry of Magic rating for the Phoenix is XXXX, which is ‘dangerous’. A footnote in the book mentions that the rating is not due to the fact the bird would be dangerous, which it is not, but to the fact that few wizards are known who have tamed one. According to Scamander, Phoenixes are found in Egypt, China and India, are peaceful and gentle, and have never been known to kill. They eat only herbs. 

The most notable fact about Phoenixes is their capacity to die by bursting into flames and regenerate from their own ashes, their ability to disappear and reappear at will (a power they share with Diricawls), and the fact that their tears have extraordinary healing powers, and can act against venoms as potent as Basilisk’s. Oh. Phoenix songs are magical too: they give the pure of heart courage and increases the fear of the impure.

Scamander’s allegations about Phoenixes being found in Egypt are confirmed by Muggle archaeology: Egyptians in Heliopolis worshipped a solar heron-like bird called Bennu (see picture above), but the information about this bird is scarce and subject to much controversy. The Chinese culture has a phoenix too, indeed, who is called fènghuáng. It shares some characteristics with our European phoenix. In China, its qualities are, besides being the female part of the dragon-phoenix yin-yang duo (see picture below), symbols of fire, the sun, justice, obedience, and fidelity. Remember Dumbledore speaking about Fawkes? ‘He’s really very handsome most of the time: wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers and they make highly faithful pets.’ (Chamber of Secrets, chapter 12, p.225). Faithfulness going to the point that if someone is faithful enough to their master, they can help them out of tricky situations, as we saw in Chamber of Secrets. 

Other cultures have phoenixes or phoenix-like birds: the Russians have the Firebird, the Japansese the Hō-ō, northern America the Thunderbird from Native American traditions (and Newt’s book). The Native American Thunderbird is part of the North West Coast (pic below, from https://pnsn.org/outreach/native-american-stories/thunderbird-and-whale/thunderbird-and-whale-stories/list-of-stories ) and Midwest Plain cultures, and has different statuses in each region. However, the notions of power, protection and strength are common to all. For instance, in Algonquian culture, the Thunderbird rules the upper world, while the earth part is the kingdom of the underwater panther or Great Horned Serpent (rings a bell? :P ). In Menominee culture, there is also this opposition between the Thunderbird and the Great Horned Serpent, but it is more of an actual manicheistic fight: the Thunderbird prevents the Great Serpent from overrunning the earth, and it controls rain and hail. However, in Menominee culture, Thunderbirds are the messengers of the Sun. So this draws a parallel with the Egyptian Bennu. Other cultures also feature the fight with the underwater spirits. In Ojibwe culture, for instance. They also state that the Thunderbird was created by Nanabozho especially for this purpose. Ok I think I’ll stop here and plan a paper about the Thunderbird. But what can be said is that somehow I feel like the Thunderbird is a sort of equivalent of our Eurasian Phoenix variations.

The phoenix is also an alchemical symbol. It symbolises the perfection of Quintessence (the fifth element, also called Ether). It also symbolises the Three Principles (Tria Prima: salt, mercury and sulphur, which relate to any triad in the world, like for instance energy, matter and entropy). Paracelsus adds that it refers to the fundamental matter, also called energy, dark energy, creative chaos, or the formless essence that defines all matter. Some authors go as far as saying that this means the phoenix is ‘the completely healed, perfected human being’, the one that has integrated himself so much that they don’t need their physical body anymore. All this talk about perfection and all that also means that eventually, phoenixes are related to the ultimate goals of Alchemy, which, in addition to healing and perfection, are the Elixir of Life and the Philosopher’s Stone… rings a bell?

Now all this makes Phoenixes quite special and, let’s face it, sort of the perfect birds for a bloke like Albus Dumbledore. Still. Why would phoenixes be the Dumbledores’ birds? In Crimes of Grindelwald, Dumbledore states that in their family, a phoenix will always appear to one who is in dire need of help. Why single Dumbledores out? And anyway, how and when did Fawkes come to Dumbledore? The only answer we have for sure about that last question is that it came before 1938 and was grown enough at that time to give two tail feathers to Ollivander to use as wand cores. As we know, one of them ended in Tom Riddle’s yew wand, which he got in 1938, and the other in Harry Potter’s holly wand. About the other questions, it’s a big ‘search me’. For the moment.

PS: Any comments, questions, critics or additional info welcome! :)

Online Sources

Blood pact:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magyar_tribes

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blood_oath_(Hungarians)

https://dailynewshungary.com/mythical-blood-oath-this-is-what-the-leaders-of-the-7-hu-tribes-said/

Phoenix:

https://www.boutique-of-arts.com/the-alchemical-phoenix/ 

http://www.levity.com/alchemy/alcbirds.html 

Thunderbird:

http://www.native-languages.org/thunderbird.htm 

https://pnsn.org/outreach/native-american-stories/thunderbird-and-whale/thunderbird-and-whale-stories/list-of-stories

Books and Papers

Baabar (2018, 2nd ed.). Almanac History of Mongolia. Nepko Publishing. Ulaanbaatar.

Gaiman, N. (2017). Norse Mythology. Bloomsbury Publishing. London.

Hughes, L. (2006). Blood Oaths, Boundaries and Brothers. In: Moving the Maasai. St Antony’s Series. Palgrave Macmillan, London.

Klossowski de Rola, S. (1973; 2013). The arcane doctrine of alchemy. Thames and Hudson, London.

Oschema, K. (2006). Blood-brothers: a ritual of friendship and the construction of the imagined barbarian in the middle ages. Journal of Medieval History, 32(3), 275-301.

Rowling, J.K. (1998). Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Bloomsbury Publishing, London.

Rowling, J.K. (2003). Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Bloomsbury Publishing, London.

Rowling, J.K. (2005). Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Bloomsbury Publishing. London.

Rowling, J.K. (2007). Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Bloomsbury Publishing, London.

Scamander, N. (1927). Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Bloomsbury Publishing, London, in association with Obscurus Books, Diagon Alley, London.

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

POI - Strange Magic

A few days ago, doing our weekly trip to Disney, @colonelcupquake and I discussed a few things about our d&d kids, and about all the ways in which their growing relationship is...growing. This is what spawned from me thinking too much about what that meant.

Set in current game time, while the idiots are helping our resident monk through house arrest. 2,200 words.

If asked, Val wouldn’t have been able to count high enough to number all of the moments that made her miss her parents most.

There had been plenty in the early years - after selling the wagon, and then the horses, every time she had made her own coffee, Gavaar’s heavy silence on a long travel road - but the newer ones didn’t seem to dig any less deeply. Dandelions still made her sigh; the sight of Amon bent over his alchemist’s kit still made her heart clench just a little too hard.

And she knew, so bitterly that it hurt, that at least her father would have known exactly what to do with Rona Greenbottle.

He had left her some notion of it, of course. His telling - and frequent retellings, at a younger Val’s incessent requests - of how he had met her mother carried the notes of romance so thickly that even she couldn’t have missed them. But Cairon Hillcrest had also been one of the lucky sort who hadn’t made himself the company of his lady love for the better part of a year, who didn’t spend a harrowingly frequent amount of that time dragging her into danger, and who had at least had the fucking decency to know more about her than her name, and her strength, and the bright, sunshine sweetness that had captured his attention in the first place.

Val glaced up over the top of the book she was not reading to where Rona was settled on the floor of their collective room, pawing through the pile of satchels around her with the keen slowness of someone who knew exactly what she was looking for. She pulled a tough looking stalk as thick as two fingers from one, and Val watched, enthralled, as she deftly slashed it open and stuffed a coffee bean inside.

Her staring must have been the weighty sort, because after a moment, Rona’s mouth curled into a smile.

“Yes?” she said without looking up. Val instinctively tucked back into her book, feeling a rush of heat up her neck.

“Nothing,” she said automatically. She stole a glance around her book’s edge and found Rona looking back out of the corner of her eye, grinning. The heat on her neck grew warmer. “I just, ah...I was just wondering what you were doing.”

“Just that?” Rona asked, with a pointed raise of an eyebrow. Val huffed.

“Well, I won’t say that I terribly mind the view either.”

Rona hummed in acknowledgment and turned back to her work, but Val noticed with a tiny thrill of delight that her cheeks had a much rosier tinge.

“They’re for spells,” Rona said at least. Her fingers worked carefully, now winding a thin piece of twine studded with apple seeds around a length of thorny vine. “You’ve seen me using them before, haven’t you?”

“Here and again,” said Val, as she set her book aside. No use hiding behind it now; and besides, she had only caught as much of Rona’s casting as the corner of her eye allowed. With her own recent foray into magic, it seemed of dire importance that she actually try to listen.

Not to mention that Rona seemed rather pleased at the attention; she straightened as Val leaned forward, and shifted to face her.

“I decided that I should start prepping some of my components early,” she said, nodding towards the vine clipping that she was turning over in her hands. “I used to do most of these on the fly, but I figure now that I’ve got to try to keep up with you, and Tara, and Amon…”

“Mostly him, I'm sure,” Val said with a wry smile. “I’ve just taken to making sure the red blur is still moving instead of trying to keep track of him.”

“Well, I'd still rather be fast enough that I don’t catch him in this.”

With one swift motion, Rona suddenly wrenched a hand sideways and tugged the vine taught around her palm, so tightly that Val could see the thorns digging little dents into the meat of it. A soft green glow began to pulse from between her fingers, coiling down the length of the vine, and before she could blink, Val suddenly found herself in the center of a mass of woody tendrils creeping over the edge of the bed towards her.

“Don't worry,” said Rona when Val instinctively scrambled back. She waved a hand, and the vines suddenly curled away like a receding wave, and then crumbled to dust. “I don't use those on people I like if I can help it. You know, unless they want me to.”

She winked at that, and grinned, and the heat that had started to fade on Val’s neck suddenly came roaring back to life. She managed to keep her face carefully neutral as she tucked that particular thought away for later perusal.

“So, that’s, uh, that’s how your magic works, is it?” she said after a moment, coughing delicately to disguise the hitch in her voice. “You just sort of stick things together and - ”

“Not quite.” The little laugh in Rona's voice staggered as she cut Val off, just a touch too sharply to be casual. “It’s a little more involved than that, actually.”

Frowning, Val stole a glance down, and the peculiar tightness at the corners of Rona’s smile suddenly brought the memory of the conversation in the mine - with Sarula’s arms still wrapped around Rona’s weary shoulders and a too-casual shrug from Ianry - screaming back like a train car.

“Oh, Rona,” she said softly. Rona didn’t look up, just pursed her lips and stared fixedly at the floor. “Rona, love, you know I don’t think that’s all you do, right? Look, I might be an idiot, but even I know it takes work to pull miracles out of your ass on a regular basis. I just don’t understand the shape of it, hey? And I...” She hesitated. “And I would like to, if you can stand a few more stupid questions.”

Rona said nothing for a long moment, turning the vine absently in one hand. Then she sighed, and wilted like a breath suddenly exhaled.

“I know,” she said softly. “Sorry. Here, come sit with me.”

Val thanked Fharlanghn later for the distinct lack of witnesses to the way she nearly fell over herself getting off of the bed, and Rona, for her part, kindly avoided snickering.

“It’s not miracles so much as knowing what you’re trying to do,” she said once Val had settled across from her, hands folded in her lap like an attentive school child. She twirled the vine in her hand so it arched over her knuckles and held it out, gesturing to the tiny auburn seeds still tangled in twine around its surface. “Seeds are a plant’s life: they’re the first thing it needs to grow. So if I want vines to suddenly start growing out of the ground, and to wrap themselves around someone...”

She slowly threaded the vine back around her palm and made a big show of pulling it taught. Val hummed.

“It’s like a tether, then,” she said, with tentative understanding. “It sort of...makes a path from you to what you’re trying to control, yeah?”

“Exactly,” said Rona, and Val warmed at the brightness in her smile. “The components of a spell are just the vessel that you pour your intent into. That’s what makes magic happen. Not just ‘sticking things together.’”

She shot Val a pointed look, and nudged her playfully with a toe when she winced.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Val grumbled, making a big show of huffing and folding her arms. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, much less anyone else. I wasn’t born with magic.”

“I wasn’t either,” said Rona. Val raised an eyebrow. “What? Most people aren’t. Some of us give up everything just to learn.”

The current of heat burning under the last few words was difficult to miss, as was the way Rona’s eyes strayed to the door that Ianry had left through barely ten minutes prior. Val said nothing for a long moment, then slowly shifted closer.

“Everything, huh?” she asked. Rona’s shoulders sagged.

“My family didn’t exactly approve of the whole ‘running off to go play with magic plants’ business,” she said quietly. “And once I decided to go after my mentor…”

She trailed off, shrugging, and Val found that she could only nod. The few words of comfort she had suddenly felt achingly hollow in her ears; how could she even pretend that she understood losing a family that way, which left behind a looming shadow of unknowns that only grew with distance? She thought of her father, and all of the moments she had spent missing him, and she held them tighter still.

Eventually though, after a long muster of silence, Val rolled onto her knees, pushed some of the satchels aside, and shuffled over to where Rona was leaned against the wall. She only hesitated a moment before pressing an arm against hers.

“I don’t think Ianry meant any harm by what he said,” she said finally, “but it wasn’t fair anyway. You’re...you’re amazing Rona, in a hundred more ways than just what you can do with some thread and vines, but because of that, too. You’ve clearly worked your ass off to be as good as you are. You know, occasional misdirected ice knives aside.”

That earned her a chuckle, small but genuine, and Val felt her heart quicken as Rona slid sideways along the wall and rested a shoulder back against hers.

“That probably won’t happen again,” she said, with a thin smile. Val grinned.

“Wouldn’t matter even if it did, love. Accidents happen to all of us. But that doesn’t change the fact that you could set the ground around me on fire, and I’d trust that you’d put it out before anyone got hurt. You’re a damn fine druid Rona, but I admire your dedication to doing right even more.”

“Me?” Rona sat forward with the reddening cheeks and sudden, righteous indignation of someone whose only response to a compliment was to return it. “What about you? I've spent the last few months watching you fling yourself between us and every kind of monster that Cinderfells can dream up. I expect that I’ll spend the next few months doing the same thing. You want to talk to me about dedication? Protecting people is so natural to you, a god came down to help you do it!” She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “No one has ever thought to ask why I like you, Val. You know why? It's because they haven’t needed to. Knowing you makes the reason plain enough.”

This time, the heat surging upwards bypassed Val’s neck completely and shot straight to her ears, which felt suddenly like they matched Amon’s in their shade.

“Well,” she said, when sense and her full grasp of Common finally returned, “now that’s hardly fair. See, I was under the distinct impression that I was complimenting you.”

Rona’s lips curled into a wry smile, her cheeks their own delightful shade of rose. “Funny how a conversation works, huh?”

They both buckled into a laugh, and whatever coy hesitation had been putting distance between them suddenly vanished like a mist in morning sun. Rona sank further against Val’s arm once she had collected herself, and leaned her head onto her shoulder.

“I should clean all of this up,” she said after a moment, gesturing to the piled satchels around them. “With any luck, we’re not going to be needing to burn a bunch of spells in the next few days anyway.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Val, grinning. “We have a rather permanent history of getting ourselves into all manner of trouble. In fact, you might even need a whole other bag of…” She paused and grabbed the nearest satchel. “Acorns?”

Rona giggled. “I use those more for making friends with squirrels than for magic, if I’m honest.”

“Of course,” said Val, with a good-natured roll of her eyes as she let the satchel fall. “What I mean is, I still have plenty more stupid questions about magic, and I’m not so terrible at finding useful things in the woods. Mostly Sendran woods, to be fair, and mostly in the south, but I haven’t almost eaten poisonous berries since I was eight, which isn’t horrible when you think about it -”

“I was actually planning on gathering some things to bring Rosie back today,” Rona cut in, pulling away to grin up at her. “If you wanted to come along…?”

Val practically jumped to her feet, snatching her shield from where it was leaned against the bedside and slinging it onto her back. “Please. I’m already sick of this room, this inn and this whole bloody city. Let’s let it fend for itself for a little while, hey?”

“A date, then,” Rona agreed, grinning as she stood and then leaning forward to nudge Val with an elbow. “And maybe I’ll even let you hold the basket.”