#( how dare children set their own boundaries right ???? )
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i had to listen to ignorant people spouting bullshit on the dog walk today so i am now in a very.... agitated mood, shall we say
gonna bury myself in some writing or something for a while and try to alleviate said mood
#;forever yelling into the abyss (ooc)#( me standing there with my rainbow flag shirt and my dog with a matching collar like: )#( and it was all the typical uninformed arguments which just. frustrates the fuck out of me )#( and i simply did not have the energy or headspace to educate these people and/or risk alienating myself from the group )#( and when the subject moved on to how kids are âspoiledâ these days bc their parents don't force them to eat things they don't like- )#( man. MAN. 'if i didn't eat my dinner i got it for breakfast the next day' yeah that's. that's not the flex you think it is- )#( how dare children set their own boundaries right ???? )#( i'm so fckn pissed off about this but i'm also just. so fucking tired )
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When Hell Freezes OverÂ
@steddie-week Day Six - MisunderstandingsÂ
Link to AO3 | Chapter 1 | 3.3k | Rated T
Part 2Â | Part 3Â | Part 4
Thereâs something freeing about this time of day. Early morning light peeking through the windows at the top of the rink. Birds chirping outside, barely audible over the steady hum of the cooling system keeping the ice frozen. No unruly children learning how to skate for the first time, or rambunctious teenagers that never take skating safety seriously. Itâs just him and the ice.
He used to hate it, back when he first started competing. Wasting away hours of his life that heâll never get back. There was a desperation back then, a fire that burned in his belly to be the best, to impress his parents and live up to their expectations and become a star. All it did was remind him that he would never be good enough, not for them, and not for the world.
When Steve turned eighteen, he fired his coach and cut off his parents. He almost quit skating altogether, but he wanted to give it a shot without their influence. To finally do something for himself. It took some time, but he finally got back a piece of himself, something he didnât even realize was missing until he took them out of the equation. His love of skating was stolen from him and decimated by the competitive drive to be better than everyone else for the sake of impressing two people whose love he never should have had to earn.
He forgot how freeing it felt to glide across the ice, wind whipping your hair into a tangled mess and the cool breeze clearing your mind. No feeling on earth compared to this.
He wishes he could go back ten years and tell himself to never lose this feeling, to stop listening to critics and beating himself up every time he stepped onto the ice. Luck was on his side that an injury never took him out permanently, given how hard he was pushing himself. Every year the sport gets more competitive, with younger people coming to the forefront and forcing older competitors out of the rink. New daring tricks that his aging body canât quite accomplish in the same way as those ten years younger than him.
Now, his routines are wholly his in a way they never were before. Moves choreographed to fit his body and skillset, instead of pushing the boundaries on how many turns he can make in the air to impress the judges. His programs are set to music that Robin and Dustin help him select and rework to the right tempo, less classical music and more piano covers of his favorite top forty hits. His new coach listens and never pushes him to do things that could lead to career ending injuries.
Thatâs not to say he doesnât still have a competitive drive, but heâs thankful everyday that heâs no longer subjected to the specific brand of emotional turmoil that came from three different people critiquing his every move on and off the ice. His body thanks him everyday, too. Heâs never more thankful than in moments like this, when heâs gliding across the ice and able to just take it all in.
Maybe if he had done more to relax and appreciate the outlet skating gave him, he wouldnât have reached the boiling point that forced his parents out of his life. Or maybe that was inevitable. A product of their own design from years of emotional abuse that turned into their own brand of physical abuse under a coach that pushed a sixteen year old to the point of panic attacks. Either way, heâs better off now, in his own world, with himself in the driver's seat of his future.
Growing up in this rink, he can almost close his eyes and blindly make his way across the ice. The precise counts it takes to glide from one end to the other ingrained into his muscle memory after years of training. He hasnât forgotten, even when he moved on to larger rinks at the behest of his former coach. With no one else here besides the handful of employees that open the rink bright and early, Steve can sail across the ice with no barriers or distractions.
The silence is almost overwhelming. Gone are the days of his coach spouting harsh criticisms or his parents tisking from the rafters at each under rotation. He might miss a handful of things when it comes to his parents, mainly the money, but that is not one of them. Thereâs this deep recess of his brain that stores all of those criticisms and sometimes he canât help but still think back on them, but he tries to keep it from influencing how he skates now. His current coach is always doing double duty, assisting him in becoming a better skater, and also rewiring his brain to override what lives there from his parents.
âHey, twinkle toes,â interrupts his peace and quiet, âtime to let the real men take the ice.â
Steve is groaning before he even turns around. He knows that voice. It belongs to the bane of his existence, Eddie Munson. It was only a matter of time before he showed up to ruin Steveâs morning. He completely ignores the comment about real men. Munson gives the kids a run for their money on immaturity and itâs best to not engage.
For the past few weeks, Eddie and his Hellfire hockey club have been interrupting his morning workouts. Steve hasnât been back in town long, and the club is new, so they havenât had a lot of opportunities to run into each other before now, but at the moment, they canât seem to go one day without butting heads. He had no way of knowing that these guys had taken over his time slot on this ice, but Eddie has been hellbent on making sure Steveâs mornings end in chaos.
âMunson, you know for a fact that my name is on this time slot with the office,â Steve says, skating over and coming to a stop at the barrier around the rink.
Eddie waddles over on his skate guards and peers over the railing to look at Steve.
âYeah, I know, sweetheart, but your time ended ten minutes ago,â his voice tinged with a faux saccharine quality and a cocky, fake smile on his lips. âI was kind enough to give you some time to figure it out, but it looks like your spandex might be a little too tight. Is it cutting off the circulation to your brain?â Eddie leans against his hockey stick. âYou havenât gone over your time in weeks,â he adds, matter-of-fact, with almost a hint of concern.
That canât be right. Why would Munson be worried about him? Had he really been skating for over an hour already? Thereâs no way. But sure enough, the giant clock on the wall reads eleven minutes past his time.
âOh shit, sorry, man,â Steve apologizes, even though the last thing he wants to do is give Munson something to hold over his head. Itâs embarrassing that Eddie caught him so lost in his thoughts that he didnât even realize it was so late. âItâs all yours.â
Steve feels Eddieâs eyes follow him as he snaps on his guards to exit the ice. Itâs unnerving having Eddieâs attention on him like that, eyes glued to his every movement. He wonders if Eddie is doing it on purpose, as some kind of intimidation tactic to scare him away from their practice time. Theyâve been more amicable towards each other in recent weeks, though.
Theyâve already gone through the whole song and dance of trying to scare each other off. That first week was a tense battleground for heated arguments and accusations about favoritism thrown around. Those arguments ended when Eddie insinuated that Steveâs parents were paying off the rink owner and Steve had quietly admitted that he no longer speaks to his parents, so they wouldnât do something so bold for him these days.
Now, they have an unspoken truce, to leave each other alone and respect the time slots, only heckling each other a bit during the trade off. Steveâs the one who broke that truce this morning. Eddie has every right to be pissed and stare him down, but it doesnât make it any less uncomfortable. Heâs not even sure that Eddieâs mad, heâs just staring at Steve like heâs trying to solve a puzzle.
Whatâs even more unnerving, is that Eddie doesnât follow the rest of the guys out onto the ice. Gareth throws a confused look over his shoulder as he goes to warm up, but Eddie ignores him, his focus solely on Steve.
âYouâre awfully quiet this morning, Munson,â Steve remarks, hoping to break some of the tension that has cropped up in the last few minutes. He sits down on one of the benches where his duffle bag is resting, digging through it for his change of clothes before he heads to the locker room.
âIâve just never seen you give up that fast,â Eddie shrugs, looking down at his skates and spinning his stick back and forth in a dizzying motion.
âAre you saying you wanted to fight with me?â Steve looks up puzzled.
An unreadable expression passes over Eddieâs face before he says, âOf course I donât want to fight with you, Iâm just saying itâs weird.â He hesitates for a moment, then adds, âIs this some kind of psychological warfare you learned about from your fellow ice ballerinas? Trying to score more time for your silly little routines?â
Maybe theyâre more alike than Steve is willing to admit, as he just had the fleeting thought that Eddie was doing this to mess with him. Eddie doesnât need to know that, though.
It takes all of Steveâs willpower not to just glare at Eddie, but heâs always had a sharp tongue. All bark with no bite. Steveâs figured out how to best deal with him after a few weeks of being at each otherâs throats. Never back down from a challenge. Eddie can smell blood in the water, like a circling shark.
Gathering his change of clothes in his arms, he stands up and walks over to Eddie.
âContrary to popular belief, my world doesnât revolve around you bucket heads,â Steve knocks a knuckle against Eddieâs helmet, grinning at the thunking sound. âTrust me, youâll know if Iâm fucking with you.â A bewildered expression passes over Eddieâs face. âBesides, you sure do have a lot of thoughts on figure skating for someone thatâs never tried it.â
Eddie huffs out a breath. âThat sounds exactly like what someone that was fucking with you would say, you know. Iâm onto you, Harrington.â He narrows his eyes and makes a two fingered motion from his eyes to Steveâs. âI try not to think about figure skating at all, but you keep screwing that up for me.â
âOh,â Steve inches closer, tapping a finger under Eddieâs chin, âthinking about me that often, sweetheart?â
âI- thatâs not what- Jesus H. Christ, fuck off,â Eddie sputters, cheeks flushed pink. âI am not thinking about you that often. Youâre just always-â he waves around one hand, âhere. Doing your dumb little flips and jumps. Giving skating a bad rep.â
âThatâs not exactly denial,â Steve says, just to rile him up, smirking at the indignant huff Eddie lets out. Theyâre standing way too close because Steve can feel that puff of air on his chin. He takes a step back.
âMust be easy to get lost out there when youâre just going in circles,â Eddie adds, trying to redirect the conversation, once again trying to undermine figure skating.
âItâs not just circles and flips,â Steve snaps. âFigure skating is just as difficult as hockey.â
Eddie rolls his eyes. âSure it is.â
Itâs a good thing Steve has years of patience from dealing with his parents, because if not for that honed skill set, heâd probably have punched Eddie in the face long before today for his snide little comments. Now, Steve almost gets a sick joy out of watching Eddie squirm. Thereâs probably something wrong with him that he wants to use everything in his wheelhouse to get Eddie to flush pink like that again, or look at Steve with that intense stare that burns a hole right through him. Eddie always makes him feel like his skin is on fire.
âWhat, you think Iâm not a real man because I skate around to music instead of slamming my body into someone else and grunting like an animal?â
âWe do not grunt like animals!â
âOh please, you guys are like rabid animals out there, slamming each other into the glass and fighting over a tiny puck.â
âWell, at least we still have our dignity,â Eddie says, smirking, like heâs won this argument.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Steve asks, confused about not only where Eddie is going with this, but also the turn his morning has taken. He really didnât anticipate getting into this argument. He thought, given how much Steve took of their ice time, that Eddie wouldâve been out of his hair by now, but no. Here he is, fighting with Steve like itâs his favorite pastime.
Maybe it is. Maybe theyâre equally as infatuated with each other.
âI mean look at all the spandex, man,â Eddie gestures to the stretchy leggings that Steve has on.
âIs your masculinity so fragile that you canât handle spandex?â Steve tosses back. âYou think wearing pads makes you more of a man?â
âTheyâre more manly than spandex.â
Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Steve groans. He tries not to grimace at how greasy and sweaty it feels. All he wants is to go take a shower, but instead heâs arguing with Eddie like theyâre in middle school. âYouâre one of the most infuriating people Iâve ever had the misfortune of speaking to, you know that, Munson?â
âYou know I aim to make your life miserable. Itâs one of the few things that brings me pure joy,â he leans on his stick, pointedly looking at Steveâs leggings with disdain.
The thought barely forms in his head before Steve blurts out, âI bet you couldnât do half the things I do on the ice.â
A skeptical frown creases Eddieâs forehead. âAre you challenging me?â
âYouâre the one that wants to argue about the difficulty of figure skating and whether Iâm a real man, which is frankly misogynistic and rude. So, prove it.â
Robin would be so proud of him right now. Sticking up for himself and pointing out that Eddie is shitting on his sport for no reason other than societal views on masculinity and sports. Heâs used to being the butt of the joke around his family, but he doesnât have to put up with that anymore. Least of all from Munson, who is the closest thing he has to a mortal enemy outside of his own parents. Although wanting to watch his cheeks turn a pretty pink under the fluorescent lights of the rink while they argue is probably not typical enemy behavior.
Steveâs aware that heâs a freak. Heâs just ignoring it for his own sanity. Some wires mightâve gotten crossed in the development of his brain. Thatâs not his fault.
âBy doing what? You want me to go out and spin around and do a jump?â Eddie asks, grimacing as if even the thought is inconveniencing him.
âI want to see you try to do even half of my routine.â Steveâs coming up with this on the fly, not sure where this is even coming from, but he wants to put Eddie in his place. Prove a point.
âAnd then, what? You want me to admit youâre a real man?â Eddie cocks an eyebrow and tisks. âWhen hell freezes over.â
âSure,â Steve agrees. âI donât really need your approval to be secure in my own masculinity, but I think you could learn something. Maybe before hell freezes over.â
He knows that thereâs no way Eddie is going to be able to follow through on this without leaving the ice with his tail between his legs. Figure skating is difficult. People see it and think, oh it canât be that hard. Yet, thereâs a reason there are only so many elite skaters in the world, all fighting for a top spot. Itâs incredibly demanding and takes years of training to get to the top, if injuries donât knock you out before that.
Eddie is delusional if he thinks that he has an ounce of talent that translates from hockey to figure skating. Sure, the basics of skating, like how to stay upright and physically glide across the ice, are the same, but the mechanics are totally different. Figure skating requires a certain degree of flexibility thatâs not a part of playing hockey. They both require a certain agility, but itâs in different ways. Itâs simply arrogant for Eddie to assume he can do what Steve does. And Steveâs going to prove it to him.
âWhat about you?â Eddie asks, tone challenging and a tad condescending. At Steveâs questioning look, he adds, âIf I have to prove something, so should you. Letâs see how confident you are when three grown men are body slamming you into the boards.â
He tries to hide the smirk that wants to form on his face. Munson is in for a rude awakening. While his name is well known in the world of figure skating, less is known about his connection to hockey. Itâs a sacred sport in his family, one all of the men grew up playing as soon as they could walk. One of his uncleâs is on the board of governors for the NHL and another one owns a team. Thereâs no way Steve would ever divulge that information, especially not now that heâs challenged Eddie. He already thinks Steve is a spoiled brat down on his luck just waiting to crawl back to mommy and daddy. He doesnât need to add any fuel to that fire.
It wasnât until Steve was eight that he made the switch to figure skating and realized he was more talented at that. But the hockey roots are there. He still played rough matches with his cousins every winter until he cut off communication with his parents. He tries not to grin too wide and give anything away. Munsonâs walking right into his trap.
âChallenge accepted, Munson.â Steve holds out a hand. âIâll take on a quick hockey match, if you try my routine.â
Cautiously, Eddie reaches out to shake it, eyes narrowed like Steve is deceiving him, agreeing too quickly for his liking.
âWill you two quit flirting and get out here, man?â A voice calls out from the ice. Steveâs pretty sure itâs Gareth, but itâs hard to tell with all of their equipment and the distance between them.
Interestingly enough, Eddie flushes a darker shade of pink at that, but heâs rolling his eyes and shouting back, âIâm coming, calm down, dude,â before Steve has time to analyze it. He walks backwards towards the opening to the ice. âTomorrow morning, Harrington. Weâll use both of our time slots to make this challenge happen. Deal?â
âDeal,â Steve agrees. âShould I bring some extra tights?â
Eddie flips him off and turns around to pop off his guards, but not before Steve catches the grin on his face. Itâs wide and sincere and not at all like the mocking smirk heâs received all morning.
A warm feeling takes up residence in his chest, one that he doesnât have time to examine. He has no idea how to explain why he relishes Eddieâs attention. It makes it feel like a bee is caught in his chest trying to break free. He ignores the flush on his own cheeks and throws his bag over his shoulder, making his way to the locker room.
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Trying to Be Offensive
   I was born with little self-esteem, and building it to the modest amount I have today took great effort. This growth was not achieved naturally; instead, I forced myself to man up, be outgoing, try new activities, go places, talk to people, accept mistakes, gain a voice, date girls, and form my own opinions.
   What is the overall self-esteem improvement between 10-year-old Bill and todayâs Bill? He is more confident. What is confidence? One could argue that confidence is managing and encouraging offensive behavior. âIâm right; youâre wrong.â âYou overcharged me.â âThis is the way weâre going to do things.â Young Bill would have never uttered such bold statements.
   Is it wrong to be offensive? People need to push back in this modern age, or society will squish them. Is the term âyou overcharge meâ offensive? Letâs review the statement from the receiving perspective. An angry customer is complaining. While the tone may be pleasant, the hostile intent is clear. So, indeed, the statement contains some offense.
   From my mid-twenties on into middle age, I mellowed out. Life is too short to be upset about the little things. I am now a family man who regrets past arrogance, and I try hard to be a pleasant, upstanding individual.
   That is until I start writing. Stories must be larger than life, unrealistic, and controversial. Does this mean they are offensive? No matter what happens, some people will be offended, but a bold story requires offensive elements.
   On the far end of the scale is a light romance with a timid hand-holding scene. âThey briefly grasped hands to share their love.â Itâs not steamy, but some people could consider this statement radically offensive. âHow dare you expose my children to public displays of affection!â This is a valid concern. We must remember that not everybody can handle raw emotion, and people have different values. For example, the Amish certainly would not approve of public affection. Side note. How are Amish babies made? Some hand-holding must be going on.
   My works contain murder, torture, intimate scenes, and underage relationships. To date, I know that four people were offended by my words. Is this bad? I feel deep regret and wish they had not read my books. Did I intend to upset them? Of course not. I tried to write exciting books that everybody enjoyed, but this effort pushed my boundaries far outside my comfort zone. I did so knowing there would be consequences.
   Writing offensive material is not natural or easy for me. When creating such works, I care to be as tasteful as possible. For example, I limit vulgar words to the absolute bare minimum. In addition, I show how a characterâs morals became corrupted to justify their offensive behavior and make sure the law catches up with them.
   Yet, my view on this topic is representative of a limited slice of our society. Many people go out of their way to act offensively and are clearly aware of their actions. For example, the television show South Park pushes the limits of society into bold new realms. Their Barbra Streisand episode was particularly mean.
   Let us not forget that life is offensive. Earth has (and will have) wars, slavery, brutality, crime, corruption, bad parents, and inequality. Refusing to write or read about these offensive topics causes readers to repeat past mistakes. For example, letting a dictator take over a country is not a good idea. Why? (Insert fact-filled genocide description here.) Thatâs why.
   Writing about offensive topics, if often entertaining, educational, and overall, is a positive experience. Take the movie Saving Private Ryan with Tom Hanks. The story is set in WWII and depicts facts mixed with fiction and gory action. What did I think about that movie? I enjoyed every scene. However, my Uncle Al chose not to watch this movie. He even turned away from the movie preview because it reminded him of his time in Vietnam.
   Letâs examine that concept. My late Uncle Al was a big, tough guy. Why would a strong-willed person like him get offended by a trivial movie? The answer does not matter. Al had the right to decide what he liked and did not like. In this case, the movie offended him even though he did not see it.
   What do I say to the people I offended? I can only say that I am sorry. Should I keep apologizing? Should I stop writing? Should I only write fluffy, good material?
   The answer is that I need tougher skin. No matter what I do, I will offend somebody. Thatâs life. My choice is to move forward. This includes pushing story boundaries even if they might cause problems. Dang that is a hard pill to swallow.
   I must remember that my work has also delighted readers, and they left many excellent reviews that have deeply touched me. Overall, writing has been 30% frustrating and 70% positive. Now, I need to concentrate on making it 71% positive.
   Youâre the best -Bill
   January 25, 2025
   Hey, book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:
  Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.
   Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.
   Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.
   Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his lifeâs questions.
   These books are available in softcover on Amazon and in eBook format everywhere.
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My lengthy, angry ACOSF rant review.
Spoilers, TW for mental, emotional, physical, and sexual abuse.
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I loved ACOTAR. I still love ACOTAR. I always will love ACOTAR. But every book afterwards made me give up more and more. ACOMAF romanticized an abusive relationship and assassinated characters for the author's convenience. ACOWAR was a bunch of boring and inconsequential death scares. ACOFAS was all-round dreadful. And each book kept shitting on and pushing away Lucien for no reason.
I'd like to preface this by saying I hated Nesta too. I hated the way she treated Feyre in ACOTAR especially, and I wasn't even too excited for this book because I wasn't that keen on Nesta as a character.
Nesta's POV and her backstory changed my perspective. It does not excuse her actions. All Nesta stans can hold these characters accountable for what they do - trauma is a reason, not an excuse. I, and many others, sided with Nesta because of the way she's treated by everyone else in this book. Also, if you're going to hate Nesta for not teaching Feyre how to read and letting her hunt at fourteen, (which I did, and are very valid things to hate), AT LEAST hold Elain accountable too.
This book. This fucking book.
Shall we start with the intervention? Feyre on her little power trip thinks that her boyfriend that hates Nesta and Nesta hates back, Nesta's ex-best friend, and her possible mate who she never talks to should be at this stupid fucking intervention??? Excuse me???
Remember in ACOMAF when Feyre wouldn't shut up about how rich Rhysand is? Feyre literally has four or five houses and is always talking about how much jewelry and lingerie she can afford because Rhysand is so rich??? Well, Nesta has a few shots. So you know what Feyre does? Humiliates Nesta at this "intervention", TEARS DOWN HER HOME, and forces her to go to the Illyrian training camp.
That was the god awful premise for this book.
Did you think Elain wasn't there because she was against the "intervention"? Nope! She was packing Nesta's belongings without permission.
Remember in ACOMAF when it's made a big fucking deal that locking up a traumatised woman is extremely damaging? Well, when Nesta decides she doesn't want to be in Illyria, Feyre locks her in the House of Wind. Nesta can't fly, so her only way of leaving is down the TEN THOUSAND STEPS, that Feyre KNOWS Nesta isn't capable of climbing.
Feyre's pregnant. In ACOFAS she randomly decided that she wanted a baby to remember Rhysand by if he dies. Which doesn't make any sense because they made that stupid fucking death pact in ACOWAR. It's just SJM superimposing her pregnancy onto her early 20's protagonist. Ignoring the fact that Feyre isn't ready for a baby and Rhysand CERTAINLY isn't, and with a war just ended and another looming and so much trauma and a DEATH PACT are all such horrible circumstances to bring a child into, Feyre is already pregnant. Remember when SJM made a big deal about Fae babies being so hard to conceive, and Feyre said in ACOFAS they wouldn't have to worry for a long time because it can take years to conceive your first Fae child? Well it's been no more than 3 or 4 months and Feyre's already pregnant. Yep.
Also the birth will kill her. Because of course it will. Rhysand KNEW this, and still agreed to try for a baby.
There's no solution. Abortions don't exist for some stupid reason, and a C section would apparently kill Feyre?
(Wasn't this book supposed to be about Nessian?)
In ACOWAR, Cassian was on the battlefield with his entrails around his knees. Someone had to literally hold his guts in for him, and he's fine, but you're telling me a C section would kill Feyre?
Don't worry, this is just setting up the AWFUL ending to this book.
ACOSF amounts to Nesta being gaslit into believing her abusers are right. Her friends and family slut shame her and shame her for her lifestyle constantly. Cassian says it took him decades to work through some of his trauma, and he tried to drink and fuck it away too, but suddenly when Nesta does so it's heinous? Nesta's barely twenty five and she's expected to cope better than these ancient immortals.
Hell, didn't SJM write ACOMAF? Nobody expected Feyre to pick herself up so quickly. The IC (excluding Rhysand) respected her boundaries for the most part and understood when it was grief, trauma, and turmoil that made her angry, sad, want to be left alone, etc. But that's all forgotten here.
Amren also compares Nesta to the people in, and says she belongs in, The Court of Nightmares. You know, the murderers, abusers and rapists? This innocent woman who had a few shots and a bit of sex is on par with them, apparently!
The sex scenes.
SJM is scared to say vagina so she says sex.
She says seed to mean semen.
Apparently the word cunt turns SJM on. I just found Cassian saying that kinda cringe because I'm Bri'ish so the word cunt really isn't a big deal.
Back to the baby killing Feyre, because this is definitely what we all wanted from this book as indicated by the change in covers and format and title... Rhysand decides not to tell Feyre. He tells her friends and family, and tells them not to tell her.
SJM loves sweeping Rhysand's abuse from the first book under the rug and claiming it's always about Feyre's choice... where is that here, MAAS? WHERE IS IT?
Anyway, when Nesta rightfully decides to tell Feyre (although it is kind of out of spite), Rhysand threatens to kill Nesta.
And I believed him. With the way he treats his """mAtE tHaT hE lOvEs sO mUcH""" and all the people he's mindlessly killed before, do you really think he wouldn't kill the person who gave Feyre an inch of autonomy?
So what does Cassian do? His lover who he cares deeply about and suspects is his mate has received a death threat from tHe mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lORd iN hIsToRy.
Cassian simply gets Nesta out of the court.
EXCUSE ME?
He doesn't breathe ONE word to Rhysand about this. This Illyrian WARRIOR who fought with his GUTS HANGING OUT didn't dare step up to the hIGh lOrD who he considers his brother and sparrs and fights with all the time?
Cassian literally does nothing.
Was it not Rhysand himself who said Mated males are dangerous? Can kill anyone who looks at their mate? Can be dangerous simply leaving the house? Rhys and Feyre both pull the Mate card to justify their bad actions on the other's behalf... and Cassian just tried to get Nesta out of the court?
Also, this High King bullshit.
I swear to fucking god, if SJM DARES to make this abusive, power-tripping, mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lOrD eVEr, husband-insert of hers hIgH kInG, I will fight her in the street.
My beloved Lucien is in this book. Only for him to be used and shat on.
I really liked it when he calmed Cassian down with just a look though. Yes please fox man.
Helion is also in this book. Nothing to do with Lucien.
Eris is also in this book. ERIS. Lucien's eldest brother. The same one who abused him for years, but according to SJM he's slightly better, because at least he didn't agree to kill Lucien's lover. He betrayed his daddy that one time, therefore Eris is good. Y'know, the same Eris who abused Mor? Left her laying on the Autumn Court border with a nail in her womb? Well SJM is going back on her own canon to redeem yet ANOTHER abusive male, while continuing to demonize Tamlin for things he only happened to do when SJM decided the villain from the first book was sexy.
Nesta and Cassian are Mates.
Remember when Mates were supposed to be a rare and sacred thing? Now SJM dishes them out like Oprah.
I don't want these characters to be mates. I want to see them slowly fall in love. But SJM is incapable of writing that so she forces them together with the mAtInG bOnD. That's literally the only basis for most of these relationships, Feysand especially.
The only relationship where the bond would make sense is between Helion and The Lady of Autumn. Who still isn't named. But I will die on the hill that they're mates, I can feel it between them.
I wanted someone to die in this book. I predicted that it would either be Helion or Tarquin, but Tarquin isn't even in this one.
And the ending.
SJM can't write a decent climax, so she kills both Feyre and Rhysand for the second time. Yep.
The baby is being born which stupidly kills Feyre, and thankfully takes Rhysand with them.
Nesta decides to save them. Bad choice. But she decides to save them! Because she's so powerful and she ATE THE CONTENTS OF THE CAULDRON and she's CONNECTED TO THE MOTHER.
Do you know what happens.
Nesta loses her powers.
NESTA.
LOSES.
HER.
POWERS.
The powers we've hardly seen, the powers that were briefly mentioned and used ONCE in ACOWAR, then we saw like two flashes of in this book? They're GONE now. GONE SO NESTA CAN SAVE HER ABUSIVE SISTER AND ABUSIVE HUSBAND WHO ABUSES THEM BOTH.
Nesta is just an Amren now. They both fought for their powers, and had to give them up to save people who didn't deserve it. Now they're anticlimactically trapped in powerless bodies.
Also, and I can't BELIEVE I didn't originally include this - do you know what else Nesta TRADED HER POWERS FOR?
Illyrian anatomy so she can carry Cassian's baby one day.
EXCUSE ME?
I am so fucking SICK TO DEATH of the narrative that every woman needs a man and children to be happy. SJM clearly loves this because she's literally only keeping Amren and Nesta alive now to be sex objects to their partners and nothing else seeing as their POWERS WERE RIPPED AWAY FROM THEM, and now NESTA TRADED THOSE POWERS TO HAVE A BABY SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW SHE WANTS? Nesta does NOT strike me as a motherly type. She's the wine aunt, she and Cassian are the couple that go on holiday a lot and and babysit their nieces and nephews, but nope. Nesta HAS to have children.
The Feysand baby is called Nyx. That's just so underwhelming, you go from these huge, multiple syllable names like Amarantha and Morrigan and Lucien to Nyx? I get it's supposed to be unique but it's not even meaningful. It's just more shit-flavoured icing on the hAHa nIgHt uWu cake. I prefer Renesmée.
Nesta is wrong somehow. She says she's sorry as she's saving them. FOR WHAT? For being a little rude to Feyre as all sisters are? And rightfully hating your sister's abuser?
Oh yeah, remember in ACOWAR when Nesta took care of a comatose, starving Elain for months? Elain is randomly okay now because she takes care of her mental health the stereotypical way of baking cakes, and not drinking and fucking, which she shames Netsa for.
Remember the slut shaming, demeaning comments that the whole iNnEr cIrClE made about Nesta? They all expect apologies from her. For some reason.
Nesta has done nothing wrong. She coped with her trauma and minded her business in her own ways, and she's expected to apologise to the people who control and emotionally abuse her.
Nothing that any of these characters did to Nesta is right. Nesta wasn't okay at the end, this wasn't Nesta's healing story. This is Nesta being shamed and degraded until she submits.
Oh I can't believe I forgot to write this in my first draft of this review, do you know how Nesta "overcomes" her grief about her Father's death and her conflicting feelings about him and his life and her guilt? When she visits his grave for the first time, she takes Nyx.
NYX.
She holds NYX up to the grave and talks about how it's his grandson.
GO AWAY YOU STUPID DEMON BABY THIS IS NOT YOUR BOOK.
Speaking of, it's revealed that Nesta was abused by her mother and grandmother in this book? Something we were all looking forward to is seeing more of the Archeron's mother seeing as Feyre was so young when she died, but... nope. She gets a few vague mentions, and this newly revealed abuse is entirely glossed over. Nesta was also actively groomed by an older man at 14. But SJM glosses over this because of course she does.
Finally, the bonus chapters.
My edition came with a bonus chapter from Feyre's POV. It was pointless and I hated it.
There's another bonus chapter from Azriel's POV. Once I'd finished this book, he was one of the few characters I still harboured a shred of respect for.
Then I read his bonus chapter.
This exists to purely objectify Elain.
Whether you ship Elain with Azriel, or Lucien, or neither, this chapter is disgusting. He thinks about her coming on his tounge, and other things simply just to please him.
He then dares to suggest that "the Cauldron picked wrong" in choosing Lucien as Elain's mate?
No Azriel, SJM picked RIGHT in not giving each Archeron sister a bAt bOy.
Rhysand does the only right thing he's ever done by telling Azriel to stay away from Elain, but then he has to ruin it by clarifying that it's only so they can manipulate and use Lucien more.
Oh, and Azriel wants to kill Lucien.
Need I remind you that Lucien respects Azriel? Lucien is another victim of the Night Court's needless, baseless torment, and Azriel is no exception.
Lucien stays well out of Elain's way because she makes it clear that she's not interested in a mate, but Azriel wants to kill him simply for being her mate.
Lucien has done nothing. And I mean literally NOTHING to warrant any of this treatment. From the bAt bOyS, from Feyre, from his family, from SJM, from the deluded part of this fandom that think he's done wrong. NOTHING.
All I liked about this book was the Lucien scenes (which is a given), ((although I hated the way everyone talks about him behind his back)), Nesta's relationship with the house, Emerie and Gwyn, the evidence that Gwynriel is endgame and subsequently Elucien, and the book love. Everything else was horrible. Oh, and Nesta hates Rhysand. I love that for her, because everyone else bows at his feet.
Oh yeah, when Nesta DARES suggest that Rhysand is an "arrogant, preening asshole" which I think is a compliment, Cassian can't take Rhys' cock out of his mouth for one second, and has to get mad at her for having an opinion. Don't even get me started on Azriel in that scene.
If each book after ACOTAR made me slowly give up, this book made me give up altogether. I cannot go on to support this victim-blaming, abuse-forgiving, misogynistic series. I've given up on SJM, and the only characters I care about anyone are Lucien, Nesta, Helion, and Tarquin. I'll continue to read this series to see if SJM redeems herself, but I'll be downloading them for free. I'm not giving this piece of shit any more of my money.
I hope we don't get the Lucien book. I don't want her to slaughter my fox in the way she slaughtered LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE.
Thanks for listening.
Edit: I put the review on Goodreads!
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Rating: 2/5
Book Blurb:Â A contemporary YA romance with a paranormal twist: what happens when in between trying to decide which boy is the right boy, a girl finds out the funeral home her family owns might be haunted? Elaine's home is a bit . . . different. It's a funeral home that has been in her family since the 1800sâand it's why everyone calls her Funeral Girl. And even though she's lived there her whole life, there are still secrets to be found. When Xander, a cute new boy with a penchant for ghost hunting, arrives in town, Elaine feels an instant spark. His daring and spontaneous ways help her go from Funeral Girl to Fun Girl. Then there's Miles, Elaine's oldest friend, who she's starting to see in a completely new light. After Xander convinces her to stage a seance one night, Elaine discovers that her home might be haunted by a kindred spiritâthe daughter of the funeral home's original owner. But who wants to be haunted by the dead when there are boys to spend time with? After all, you only live once. . . .
Review:
A girl who works in a funeral home finds herself having to decide between the new boy in town who is obsessed with ghost hunting and one of her oldest friends, on top of that she has to deal with the fact that her parents constantly need her help with the funeral home and that her home might actually be haunted. Elaineâs family owns a funeral home, itâs been her familyâs business since the 1800s and its definitely the reason why everyone calls her Funeral Girl. Yet with the constant pressure and need to help her parents with the home, Elaine dreams about being freed and about getting out. It doesnât help that her dad is pressuring her to take over the family business and that she canât stand to disappoint her parents, to the point where she is constantly canceling plans with her friends. When a cute new boy named Xander comes into town, he is obsessed with ghost hunting and reels Elaine into joining him. He is especially interested since her own home has its own ghost... All the while Elaineâs best friend Miles, has started dropping hints he wants more. Stuck between deciding which boy is right for her and how to set boundaries with her parents and go after what she wants for her future, Elaine will have to deal with a lot of decisions and seeing if she has the courage to finally make up her mind and make some decisions for herself. This book was definitely not what I thought it was going to be, I was expecting more ghosts and paranormal aspects but what was the main focus of the story was the love triangle ( which I already didnât enjoy) and Elaine struggling to say no to her parents. I wad so intrigued by the premise but the actual story itself felt anticlimactic and a bit lacking for me. I didnât really enjoy any of the romance because it barely felt there at all and the love triangle was eh, I was hoping it would be stronger or more fleshed out since it was one of the main points of the story but it really wasnât. This felt more like a coming of age story about a girl who works at a funeral home rather than a fun romance with paranormal elements, it definitely felt very juvenile and I guess just overall eh.Â
*Thanks Netgalley and Random House Children's, Delacorte Press for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*
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The thing about how modern fandom has organized into a war between "antis" and "proshippers" is that...there are so many things that are WAY bigger than fandom wank wrapped up in this, and it is terrifying how all of this gets reduced into ultimately meaningless wank about which fictional dolls should kiss.
Let me ask you a couple of questions:
When you say "antis DNI", do you mean "antis" as in people who claim to be "protecting fandom" with their ship policing but have only ever gone after ONE het ship en masse for SOME ~inexplicable~ reason, assume their (mostly queer) peers are sexual predators by default and have to be trained out of predation and that many of us can be corrupted at the drop of a hat, see a fan space that isn't designated for them and assume it must be so closed off to harbor child abusers, hear "sexual expression" in largely queer spaces and immediately think "PEDOPHILIA AND INCEST!!" with absolutely no critical thought, are content to throw really heavy violent criminal accusations at largely marginalized people over flimsy-at-best evidence (and yes, finding entertainment value in the fictional dynamic between two people with an age gap that may be questionable irl IS flimsy at best), think that fandom will somehow manage to promote incestuous abuse even after Game of Thrones failed to do so despite having a much larger audience and having framed its questionable content as being ~there for realism~; and instead of just Disliking things, insist on finding reasons that no one can possibly like it without being A Horrible Person, often while arguing that questionable content in their own preferred media is Totally Fine IRL Actually and in the MOST extreme cases, actually seeking out real CSAM to weaponize against the targets of their ire?
Or do you mean people who dare to acknowledge that hey, there's a lot of irresponsible-at-best marketing and framing in mass media, like how rich and famous writers and directors insist on including gratuitous graphic sexual violence and excluding POC for "historical accuracy" in fantasy settings with dragons and shit, and a lot of racism and other really questionable shit in fandom, the fact that fandom is mostly composed of marginalized people does NOT make this okay, and hmm, maybe we need to criticize that and find a way to reduce it?
When you say "proshippers DNI", do you mean "proshippers" as in self-righteous edgelords who treat anyone setting a boundary about potentially triggering content in their own fan space as a personal attack, cannot hear criticism of their favorite thing without screaming "CENSORSHIP!" just like any right-wing chud but veiled in the language of social justice, defend hate speech and symbols in fan spaces in the name of "protecting freedom of expression" (at least as long as the hate is not aimed at them); turn edgy fanfiction into the golden calf of queer liberation such that it is not just an EXAMPLE of queer media that is often disproportionately attacked, but THE be-all and end-all of queer rights, make openly hating children and infantilizing teenagers into a cornerstone of their public-facing personalities and act like random rude 14-year olds on the internet are a bigger threat to queer expression than SESTA/FOSTA and payment processor cutoffs; deliberately chase children out of fandoms of media for children, and often create content with the primary motive of upsetting as many people as possible more than actually enjoying it themselves?
Or do you mean people who recognize that designating spaces for freedom of expression, including sexual expression, is really, really important especially for the historically marginalized groups that created the framework of transformative fandom culture; that there will ALWAYS be people who want to explore darker subject matter in fiction and coming up with tools to make that safer for all involved is a more beneficial AND more practical endeavor than banning most "bad" content outright; and that broadening the definition of "pedophilia" (which, yes, the former definition of "antis" ARE very much doing - here's a hint: for just one example, no matter the age gap, a relationship between two adults will NEVER be pedophilia, ever) and assuming it MUST be at the root of any "deviant" sexual expression has a long and bloody queerphobic history and it's REALLY FUCKING ALARMING how that mentality, right down to "freak" as the peak insult, has been so thoroughly introduced into a microcosm that is mostly composed of queer and otherwise marginalized people just by disguising it in the language of social justice?
Because, idk about you, but I don't want either of the former definitions up in my shit, but the latter? The latter positions can and should coexist.
We should be criticizing how entertainment juggernauts abuse their power and reach to keep society venerating people who look and act like their CEOs above all else, we should be criticizing the way "conventional" (read: "slap a bikini model on the ad and frame her as the product") sex appeal is treated as a necessity for marketing anything to adults, and we should be criticizing how often taboo fetishism is marketed by multi-billion dollar companies to the demographics most likely to be desperate enough to forget that some taboos exist for a damned good reason (i.e., lonely straight men with disposable income) just because that might give them a better quarterly report!
We should also be criticizing the wave of "LGBT-positive" thinly-veiled conservatism that's popping up in line with rainbow capitalism and teaching people how to recognize that just because someone can speak the language of progressivism and social justice, that doesn't necessarily mean their values have the best interest of marginalized people other than themself at heart.
The fact that this near-inevitably ends up spiraling into a highly polarized screaming match, occasionally touching on the bigger picture but only briefly before circling back to what is still EXTREMELY niche drama is...disheartening to say the least, because these are very real issues with way bigger implications than just ship wars. Bigotry making excuses for itself (the eagerness to call a ship "pedophilia" that is rarely directed at het ships, the fact that the energy put into fighting "problematic ships" by mostly queer and disabled small-time creators is rarely directed at major media creators, the ableism of "yeah well toughen up or gtfo snowflake", the defense of hate speech in the name of "freedom of speech" as if that hasn't been a neo-nazi dogwhistle for decades, etc.) and the concept of how hobbies can be used to radicalize people into some really awful ideologies, misdirection, overstatement of harm, understatement of harm, echo chambers that enable such overstatement and understatement of harm, the veneration of a platonic ideal of "children" as a rhetorical device while throwing actual children under the bus (exactly as anti-choice politicians do, but yet again veiled in the language of social justice) - all of that is wrapped up in this.
It is, by far, my least favorite mass fandom drama to date.
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Gale Summarised Analysis
Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in May 2021.
The majority of sources used for this article are in the game itself (this includes my Gale-solo playthroughs as well as a combination of the videos by munmomuu and selphie1999), and the few devâs notes provided by pjenn. Gale as origin is not taken into account since itâs not finished and has little to none Gale-related content. There will be little datamining content as well since pjenn said the game contained almost no gale-related notes (only in the Weave and in the Revelation scene).
Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)
The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.
We can infer about Gale by analysing what he approves and disapproves of. Sometimes, we can even lightly infer some information from his neutral reactions, but letâs be honest: this way of analysing a char is pretty poor since it leaves everything to speculation. Neutral reactions can only be analysed, in very rare instances, by contrasting the same situation in other contexts, and seeing what other options Gale approves or disapproves of. With these considerations in mind, we can proceed to describe this character.
Disclaimer: this is a meta with my personal interpretation of the character, sticking as much as possible to the facts and leaving little to âdesiresâ or âprojectionsâ of what I want him to be. If I do so, I will state it explicitly in the text for the sake of analysis honesty. I want to be clear about what is canon (facts shown in bg3 EA), from whatâs personal interpretation with little proof.
Understanding Gale (integrated text)
We are none of us monsters. We are merely hatcheries for monstrous things. So we fight them
---GaleÂ
Collecting most of the information provided in-game, we know he has a cat, a Library, and writes poetry sometimes. One of the first things that Gale will reveal is that he is a private person. He easily and clearly sets boundaries from the first moment, showing Tav where they stand. The second aspect he makes us aware of is his pragmatic thinking and his preference for diplomatic approaches. A third aspect that stands out on its own: he is a very verbose person, maybe as a result of his academia background in combination with his poetry hobby. He also has a bad posture when talking, but Iâm not sure if this is intentional or a bug.
We can assure that Gale certainly is a man of the city [13], and may have a decent social status. It's impossible to say for sure if it's noble or rich or both, or it is just a natural consequence of being a wizard scholar: he is frustrated by the harshness of the camping life, he misses the civilisation of the city which offers well cooked meals, soft beds, and scented baths. Not by chance he is the only companion in the group who would approve of giving Oskar 200 gold to fight âthe discomforts of the roadâ [13]. However, he adapts. Despite the lack of luxuries, he managed to survive in the wilderness.
Gale and his link with magic is unquestionable. Magic is life for Gale, metaphorically and literally speaking since it's magic what allows him to stay alive despite the "orb" in his chest. If we talk about Magic, we have to talk about Mystra and the Weave. The Weave is not only the embodiment of Mystra, it's an extension of Mystra herself. It extends across many planes of existence and is in almost all parts of FaerĂ»n. By dragging power from it, Magic can be performed.Â
Mystra, for lore reasons and conjectures that I will discuss in the post "Mystra and her Chosen ones", turned teenager/young adult Gale into one of her Chosen, making their relationship more intimate and granting Gale a deeper access to the Weave. This put Gale into the category of an archwizard. It's clear that Gale was and still is a devotee of Mystra, which could give us a hint of his alignment since she is a neutral good goddess and she expects for her Chosen to align around it.
Gale likes confidence, in others and in himself. He is confident in his looks (he has described himself as a âhandsome devilâ and answered during the romance/Revelation scene that he knew he was beautiful under the light as well as Tav). But beyond these two lines, qualifying him as a narcissist seems extreme. He is surely very confident about his knowledge, and we see he is not just mere words: his Mind Flayer knowledge is at the the same level of what githyankis know. If we compare how Astarion/Tav struggled with the book of Thay, and then we see how Gale manages it (sadly the scene is not complete yet in EA, and there is almost no datamining info of Gale), we can conclude once more that his knowledge and power of the mind are real (he is, so far, the main companion who allows us to explore the lore of the game in a deeper way during his conversations). We also know it's a bit more complicated to intrude into his mind using the tadpole because he has knowledge and mental tools to protect himself (check the post about the Tadpole inside Gale). He is certainly a very verbose and confident scholar, who knows his limits, and in occasions he seems to dabble into an ego-teasing play as an attempt of levity, displaying his âinsufferable sideâ, as he has described himself (his self-awareness of these traits is remarkable, and it is the reason why I avoid qualifying him as arrogant. Arrogant chars are hardly self-aware of their own bad manners or insufferable traits). But we can see it's usually done as a joke or, with an evil Tav, as an aggressive reaction. For a deep analysis of this aspect, check the post about "Gale Hypotheses- Part 2", section: "Narcissism".Â
Based on his approvals and disapprovals, we can see that Gale has a strong preference in avoiding fights, violence, and bloodshed [1]. He will always prefer diplomatic and persuasive approaches [2]. Reasoning is his best weapon, but if the individual we are dealing with can hardly be persuaded, he would approve of a deception or an intimidation as long blood is not spilt. Here is where we see his pragmatism in action, all the time. His primary goal at every moment is to avoid bloodshed. His philosophy could be summed up in the line âthe means [as long as they donât kill gratuitously] hardly matter if the end is worthyâ. And for Gale, nothing is more worthy than life [3]. This doesn't cover only the life of innocents he cares about, it includes the life of the most dubious characters as well, such as Rugan or Crusher. Gratuitous death is meaningless for him. During the scene of Nettie we can have a glimpse of his philosophy towards life: he viscerally hates treating life as if it were nothing:Â
Gale: How dare she snuff out life with as much thought as snuffing out a bloody candle? [âŠ] It's not right to feel the cold breath of death in your neck, then move on as if it was nothing but a soothing breeze. One respects life by fighting for it, and one respects death by fearing it.
Gale: One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest.
Probably the limited amount of life he has due to the "orb" increased his sense of respect for life and its celebration. I personally understand Gale as a character who embodies the perspectives of a seriously ill person, knowing that their life may be short, but they will try to make the best out of it.Â
He doesn't only respect life per se, he also cares about its dignity. This can be seen in his explicit rejection to undead existences such as Connor (he explains that it would be merciful to put an end to his undead nightmare), or in his disapprovals of humiliation and torture [9]
 We could suspect that this emphasis in protecting any life comes from the fact that only people who are alive can (sometimes) be forgiven or/and change. This is not explicit, but since he is a character who talks about being better and wiser than his previous self, about acknowledging mistakes, about forgiveness, this interpretation seems reasonable.Â
These concepts of kindness and compassion combined with âthe mistakes of the youthâ are repetitive in his interactions and approvals [5,12]. Of course, they echo in his soul since they are reflections and desires of his own experience. This pattern covers forgiving children in particular [5], and disapproving hard judgements [16], especially on matters whose story is not fully understood by Tav. This means he doesn't like quick judgements when he doesn't know the whole story first. This scenario can be easily seen during Karlach's quest, he reserves his judgment until knowing Karlach's side: There are always two sides to each story.
Gale: I have to say I don't know if agreeing to this hunt was such a wise idea. Who's to say who's the real villain in this tale of devils and masquerades? [...]When we track Karlach down, let's chat before we chop.
Similar concept appears during his Revelation scene, when he encourages and keeps asking Tav to listen to him first before judging. This is also the reason why in his Loss scene he would disapprove if Tav quickly assumes that his loss of Mystra was due to arrogance. Tav judged him without knowing the whole story. However, once Tav knows the whole story, Gale will accept any judgement from them without approval penalties during the Revelation scene.
He approves all actions that imply helping others in hard times and disapproves of them if they were done out of greed [4]. He is an animal lover [6,7]. Being kind to animals and treating them good will increase his approval, while animal cruelty will earn his disapproval. Same goes for humanoids: any display of gratuitous violence that could have been prevented with a trick or a diplomatic approach, any humiliation forced upon others, any torture or situation of slavery, is disapproved [8, 9, 11].Â
In particular, Gale seems to advocate the philosophy of âgive others their own medicineâ[18] or in other words: poetic justice. We can see this during the Myconid colony; he approves of helping the Myconid to avenge the young killed by the Duergar, adding the comment: âWicked killers deserve wicked endsâ. He is implying to give them a similar, wicked medicine to the Duergars. Another less deadly situation of this kind is shown during the foot situation with Crusher: Gale is the one suggesting âpungent poetic justiceâ and telling Tav that they should force Crusher to kiss their feet.Â
The most iconic scene, however, is during Nettie's, if Tav lies during her interrogation. As a hot-headed reaction, Gale states that he would have poisoned Nettie if this situation would have happened to him. Although, after calming down, he approves of and confirms Tav's actions [if Tav managed to persuade Nettie to give them the antidote]
Gale: A taste of her own medicine is what she deserves! [âŠ] But you handled it, and you handled it well.Â
 In this scene we also see a pattern: Gale is shown as a fallible human; his most visceral reaction during the first moment is anger and indignation, giving us a hint that he is not so rational when it comes to emotional states. An extremely obvious, human concept.Â
The scene of Nettie trying to kill a potential menace (the victim of a MF) reverberated in his consciousness, projecting immediately a fact in his mind: if he ever dares to reveal his "orb" problem, and anyone knows what a danger he representsâno matter how stable it looksâpeople will want to remove the menace by killing him.Â
This is the reason behind his words âIt's just that, had it been me... had it been...â Gale knows that this simplistic and common thinking in removing what's dangerous would end up turning into a more destructive tragedy in his case than in any infected victim of the tadpoles. So this combination makes us see, for the first time, an emotional Gale. After some seconds, he cools down and returns to his more rational, diplomatic, and moderate self. What we can read here is that Gale would be very prone to rush decisions or to make mistakes under emotional circumstances. We will learn later that the other mistake he made under emotional stress ended up with the "orb" stuck in his chest. A third mistake was done during the party, once more under the emotional stress of a potential abandonment by Tav due to the true nature of the orb.Â
Everything related to the âorbââwhich is his most traumatic experienceânaturally makes him more emotional and prone to mistakes. To see how truly traumatic the "orb" is in his life we can notice the following patterns during the meeting scene: he speaks about the tadpole in a relaxed, rational way, despite the traumatising experience. He first asks for an archwizard instead of for a cleric, because his priority is the orb. Gale's main fear is not the tadpole, but the orb. If we remember his words after the consumption of the artefacts, we realise he lives in a permanent state of anxiety and raw fear, and probably pain too, given his facial gesticulation when anything interacts with the "orb" (whether artefacts or Tav's hand). His banter with Shadowheart reinforces the concept that he always has a knot in the stomach. When he accepts the deal with Raphael, it seems to be related to the orb, not to the tadpole. The effect of the "orb" has ceased, but the tadpole is still in Gale's head since we still need to roll against a high DC and not only against a 1DC during this scene, so we can assume he still has the tadpole despite Raphael's deal. See the post about "The Tadpole" in Gale for more details.
Gale is a character that represents human experiences deeply related to growing up: mistakes done in the past, and the acceptance of not being forgiven despite the desire of wanting to. This can be easily seen during the conversation of the second tadpole dream, where Gale's mood is foul and we learn that his deepest desire is for Mystra to forgive him, but he also knows it's impossible for that to happen. He detects the lie in this dream because he has accepted that Mystra will never forgive him. Gale is the story of mistakes done during youth with grave consequences, of acknowledging them and trying to make them right, of surviving those mistakes, and depending on the interpretation, he is also the story of an ill dying man, with a gentle vision and deep care for life.Â
The great majority of his approvals are based on actions that show kindness and compassion, both reiterative concepts that are so important in his character that they come from his lips when we see the goblin party:Â
Gale: The shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion. [Only after a tough DC of 15]
In combination with: Gale: I don't know myself anymore. All this... It's not who I am. Around you, I'm not who I want to be. I should leave.Â
These lines show how, in a sudden change to an evil path, Gale would start doubting his own morality, explaining that the cause of it is the "orb" itself, corrupting the most core aspects of his personality. This corruption may or may not be lore-related. It's not completely clear what Gale's "orb" truly is. For more details, check the post of the "Orb".
 His constant critical thinking comes from his advocacy to non-conventionality [15]: a true scholar will always explore all the options and hypotheses before reaching a conclusion. Therefore, Gale would approve of any non-conventional way to fix a problem [15] as long as it doesn't potentially cause harm or bloodshed [1,2,3,8,9]. Due to his own background, Gale will always advise to be very careful of the consequences of oneâs actions. This can be easily seen when, after encountering the caged goblin Sazza, Gale would advocate to explore the possibility of reaching Gut Priestess to cure the tadpole. However, when Tav helps Sazza to escape, Gale will comment briefly against this action.
Gale: I know I said it's not inconceivable a goblin priestess could help us. And yet... was it really wise to set another goblin free so she can arrange introductions? [âŠ] consider the consequences. What if she leads her entire tribe to the grove? Tav: I don't care, I owe this grove no allegiance. Gale: No allegiance, no. Though we don't need to sign its death warrant
Once more we see that Gale is up to using any (unharming) means to get a goal, but not at any cost. He has a clear line he doesn't like to cross: life [3]. Avoiding putting other people's lives in danger is very important for him. We see this concept over and over in most scenes.
He doesn't likerushed decisions, and in that same train of thoughts, he will disapprove any use of unknown magic or tricks when nobody in the group can truly understand how they work [17], for example the tadpoles or Raphael's deal (he is against accepting it quickly, but he will approve of having a more cautious attitude and carefully thinking about it).Â
Since the moment we meet him, we can infer he is obsessed with the artefacts. It's obviously understandable: he doesn't want to die, but also, he doesn't want to kill all those that will be caught in the eruption of the orb. For this reason he will insist on the loot in the Temple Ruins despite knowing that grave robbery is not correct.Â
Gale: Bad form, isn't it? Grave robbing? [âŠ] Let's have a look at the loot. It isn't for your pockets only.Â
He keeps pondering life over death: although he respects the dead, he will always value more the living creatures in the present. This is also what pushes Gale to suggest Tav to open Rugan's chest. Stealing from the evil Zhentarins is not something that will weigh on his consciousness too much. Besides, he knows it belongs to a wizard: meaning that the chance for it to contain a powerful artefact is really high. Similar suggestions will be said about the Idol of Silvanus, but talking with him in the camp will show us that he won't approve of taking it, only as a last resort. He keeps pondering the living over a sacred piece of stone, since he knows the druids won't take the stealing very peacefully. Once more we see Gale's respect and care for life, trying to minimise damage as much as the circumstances allow him.
Gale is also a survivalist. He doesn't want to die, he loves celebrating life in its more mundane and small details. He is an emotional character for a wizard, a bit strange since they are usually portrayed as more rational and cold, losing their lives among dusty books. However, Gale has shown in many scenes that he prefers to survive without killing, but if he has to, he will do it, dealing with the weight of it in his consciousness because killing unprovoked affects him (scene in the camp after killing the druids, or the goblin party scene).Â
His moral in preventing gratuitous death sometimes will conflict with his own survival, especially if he is by an evil Tav's side. He couldn't accept bloodshed when other peaceful options were available and possible to reach. This is clearly shown during the goblin party, where Gale's consciousness suffers and feels the corruption of the "orb" killing the kindness and the compassion inside him. He accepts that wanting to live is a powerful drive, but he doesn't support this massacre, questioning if all that blood was necessary. A Tav killing the tieflings seems to lose the possibility of pursuing Gale romantically, at least in EA so far. For Gale, survival is important, but the means to do it (when they can cause death) matter too. Life is worth preserving.
 The usual archetype of survivalist tends to be an individualist one who would survive at any cost without remorse because that's the âlaw of the jungleâ, the strongest must survive. However, Gale seems to embody a different concept of survivalist that it's hard to put in words: a sort of communal survivalist, trying to survive in coexistence with his community: he wants his survival to imprint the least harm possible (even though sometimes it would not be possible), trying to help those around him as long as his condition allows it; for example, despite wanting Gut's potential cure for the tadpole, he would disagree in helping Sazza escape because she will lead the goblins to the Grove, no matter the fact that doing this will grant them their introduction to the priestess.Â
His list of approval shows that his sense of survival is always pondered with the consequences that it can cause on others (check the post with the "Extensive list of Gale's approvals"). The whole concept of the "orb" has this motivation as well: he wants to live and survive, but he also can't give up because his body would kill many, so he needs to do as much as his moral allows him to keep it in check. If he cannot do it any longer, he promises to minimise the disaster as much as possible by erupting in the deep Underdark or in a desolated corner of FaerĂ»n (and considering his ridiculous list of approvals and disapprovals, we know he is honest in not wanting to kill gratuitously). Gale acknowledges his own mistakes, tryingâto the best of his abilityâto deal with them without catching others in them. Although all his speeches keep emphasising that he is a mere human, and plans may fail.Â
At some point, if he wants to survive ânot at any costâ, he will be forced to ask Tav for help during the scene of the stew (available only for medium approval or higher). As a gesture of honesty, Gale will set a boundary before making this request, acknowledging its unfairness but giving Tav the decision to proceed or not. He is not denying to explain the details later, but at the moment he can't speak the âwhyâ of his condition no matter how curious Tav is. Tav will decide whether they can keep their curiosity on the matter.Â
We will understand later that this impediment comes as a precaution as well as consequence of his personal trauma with Mystra and the "orb" (See post about "Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust"). So, he is very clear about setting the conditions in which this conversation will happen from the beginning. The easiest way for Gale to avoid this whole situation would have been by simply lying, but he opted for an honest approach with clear out-loud reservations, knowing he was asking for more trust than he was allowed to, but the intention behind is more than important. There is a clear, huge contextual detail that we can't miss: this scene doesn't happen because of Gale's whims, he is forced to ask for help since his condition âis not a patient oneâ and will endanger everyone if not kept at bay.Â
This detail where Gale explicitly asks for an exchange of trust is not present if Gale's approval is neutral or lower. In this case, Gale would not care about giving a context to his strange request: he doesn't trust Tav and he doesn't expect to be trusted either, he only wants the artefacts to keep his condition in check for his sake and the sake of others. We can understand this change of attitude depending on the approval as he doesn't want to give any extra explanation to someone he is not interested in building a relationship with. For more details, check the post about "Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust".
I personally support the idea that nobody in canon FaerĂ»n is free of racial prejudices since Forgotten Realms lore has been created based strongly on fantasy racism. I've read that WotC wants to move forward and improve this aspect in 5e, but so far what they allowed Larian to do with the Tieflings in BG3 seems to show the contrary. So, since apparently we are going to face fantasy racism anyways, I will try to analyse racial prejudices from all chars. When it comes to Gale, it's a bit far-stretched to point out unjustified racial biases. He has a vague comment about Rashemi that some people may consider a faerunian saying. Personally, I think that line is a bias forced into him to have a particular dynamic with Minsc (the Rashemi âsillyâ companion -we all can see where Larian seems to go with this). Gale clearly sees tieflings, gnomes, and even goblins as people, and has a cautious attitude towards some githyanki (at least that's what we can infer with Lae'zel when we find her in the cage), but given the githyanki lore it's pretty reasonable to see them as dangerous creature that could kill people on the spot. So far, he seems to have no racial preference either [10].Â
As it was said before, he prefers to avoid killing people, but that doesn't mean he won't do it if his life depends on it. He will prefer persuasive and defusing approaches, but if he needs to kill to defend innocents or his own life, he won't hesitate. So therefore, stories about characters making mistakes or having violent excess in an effort to protect themselves or what they hold dear will be understood by him but hardly approved [19]. He tends more to approve a call out of that excess than approving an excuse for it.
Gale has deep abandonment issues that can be easily seen when he defends Astarion from being handed over to Gandrel. We need to put this in context before going on: for Gale, Astarion represents a danger as a vampire who attacked one of them during their sleep. By the display of meta-knowledge, we know with certainty that their approvals and disapprovals are mostly opposite: What one approves, the other will disapprove and vice versa. Getting rid of Astarion should be something that Gale would approve, however, he doesn't. If we explore his comments we will realise that what Gale disapproves from this situation is Tav's abandonment. After Mystra's abandonment, he knows very well that âLoyalty is such a very rare commodityâ, and the few situations in EA in which Tav can display abandonment, resound strongly in Gale.Â
Gale is a scholar with a strong balanced rational side. But unlike the trope, he also embraces an emotional side that, so far the info we received in EA, it's the side that makes him prone to mistakes.Â
As an amateur poet, Gale loves words. We can obviously notice this in his verbose attitude, but also in the way he carefully uses words. One of his characteristic words is âspectacleâ. He has also shown a reiterativeâalthough not alwaysâuneasy use of the word âfunâ. Using âfunâ as a way to describe the night spent with Gale gives him a slight uneasiness. âThatâs a word for it.â He disapproves of using the word âFunâ after the Mayrina/Connor situation, in which scene Gale alludes that âyour new company may be a proof of how depraved and twisted you are to see that tragedy as âfunâ. Personally I think this is a direct allusion to Astarion, who considers Mayrina's situation as âentertainmentâ, in the same way he considered as âfunâ the show of Arabella's death (two of several instances where he used that word). Gale also doesnât use the word sex during EA, instead he uses romantic ones such as love-making, intimacy, art of the night/body. In the most technical case: coitus (used only when he is talking about âgoblinoid intimacyâ in the expression âpost-coital snackâ). These details are showing not only his poet/romantic side, but also his interpretation of sex from his perspective: sex can only be possible through a connection. We know he doesnât engage in casual sex with Laeâzel if he is not romanced, and his romance can only potentially start if Tav shares that deep connection with him through the Weave.Â
Another detail related to words is that Gale has always used an infection/disease-related vocabulary to explain the âorbâ stuck in his chest: infested, taint, shadow spreadingÂ
[âŠ] I failed to control [this chaotic magic]. Instead it infested me. [âŠ] This Netherese taint... this orb, for lack of a better word [..] [âŠ] the shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion. [...]
Gale apparently has a particular way to sense magic. I have no way to check this in-game, but it seems very strange how he immediately identifies magical artifacts without casting Detect Magic. There are some extra scenes as well where he says to taste or smell the magic in some objects. Even his encounter with Shadowheart, besides being considered a flirt, could be also interpreted as him detecting the magic that we saw later in her hand or maybe the dark magic that blocks her memories, since Gale pointed out about a curtain covering her soul: âif the eyes are the mirror to the soul, yours have dark curtains across the mirrorâ (a very ominous flirting if itâs only a flirt)
This makes me suspect that, if the "orb" is not giving him this skill, it may be a consequence of having been Chosen of Mystra (for more details read the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones"). If this is the case, he may have hindered remains of theirs powers when it comes to detect magic at will.
Gale has a perception of magic with all the senses: he sniffs and tastes magic. During the mirror scene you have an option related to [Arcana] tag where he âSniff the mirror, trying to understand the nature of its magicâ. A wizard Tav will just âInspect the mirrorâ. He also said that he could âtasteâ the magic in the necromancy book and in the runes of teleportation.Â
What we know of his family is little: when he was a kid there was a housekeeper in his life (mentioned only once during the scene of the harpies) and his mother that seemed to have personally raised and cared for him (mentioned twice: in the ruin temple scene, and in his banter with Wyll)Â
Tav: Why care about decorum in a long-abandoned tomb? Gale: Because my mother raised a gentleman. Then again, to be alive is to be curious.Â
Wyll:Â Between the orb and the bug you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. Gale:Â What can I say. Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.
This post was written in May 2021. â For more Gale: Analysis Series Index
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Do you think it's would make a difference of the war aftermath, if nie huaisang Mother was a wen ?
Nie Mingjue had never really known what to do with Nie Huaisangâs mother, a feeling that was most decided mutual.
Concubines were quite common among the regular folk, but they were fairly rare for cultivators, a function of the relative rarity of female cultivators; virtually all the men Nie Mingjue knew preferred visiting prostitutes or setting up mistresses from the ranks of women who couldnât cultivate over bringing them into the household.
And yet Nie Mingjueâs father brought her home, pale-faced and already pregnant, after having spent nearly two months away at a discussion conference to rehash the boundary lines, and married her according to their clanâs customs, bringing her into the household to stay.
There were whispers, of course. Thereâd been talk about how his father ought to have another son to replace Nie Mingjue ever since his mother had left as swiftly and unexpectedly as sheâd arrived. But that sort of talk faded soon enough when a rumor leaked that the Wen sect had sent her to Nie Mingjueâs fatherâs quarters as entertainment, and had never expected him to marry her to legitimize the child.
Nie Mingjue didnât hear about that until much later, when he was older, but he thought they might even be true â a disappointing failing in a man heâd always revered, but it wasnât as if he could or would say anything about it. At least his father had always treated her well, no matter how she flinched and shied away from everything at the start. The rare few times Nie Mingjue saw her, she was always looking wan and sad as if sheâd left her heart behind in Qishan.
Maybe she had.
But she was his fatherâs concubine, so it wasnât as if Nie Mingjue could ask, nor do anything about it if he did.
She fell sick not long after the birth, which was a difficult one, and became bedridden; to ease her burden, Nie Mingjue quietly took over caring for the baby, his brother, with the intention of handing him back to her when she was better.
She eventually got better, mostly, but she didnât take Nie Huaisang back.
Instead, she burst into tears at the sight of him, every time.
Nie Mingjue might be a child, and more inclined to be martial than cognizant of feelings, but he was still young enough to be hurt and indignant on his brotherâs behalf. He still remembered the bitterness of asking why he didnât have a mother only to learn that she had left him behind â he had no memories of her â and to think that this mother was right here, and yetâŠ
In the end, he continued to raise Nie Huaisang as best as he could between training and classes and learning to be a sect leader, and began to treat her coldly, like a stranger.
Still, when his father lost his mind, she was the second person he thought to save, after securing Nie Huaisangâs safety: like a little bird, she was fragile and delicate, faded from years of self-imposed confinement even though Qinghe lacked the restrictive rules of Qishan â she wouldnât last a minute against the full force of his fatherâs mad range that even he could only redirect, not stop.
(He woke up, later, to her trembling hands trying to apply healing salve onto his injuries, and he thought it might be the first time sheâd ever looked directly at him. It didnât last: she didnât speak other than to ask him if Huaisang was all right, and heâd snapped in a helpless rage that sheâd lost the right to ask him that years before, and after that they had mutually agreed that it would be best if he locked her in her room for her own protection until his father died.)
After that he became sect leader.
âI have a request,â she said to him one day, a few weeks later. âIf you would grant it.â
Nie Mingjue shrugged and gestured for her to come into his office. Nie Huaisang was sitting in the corner painting a family picture â Nie Huaisang and Baxia, himself and Aituan â and he looked up briefly, curious to see what woman was brave enough to dare his brotherâs temper, but the interest quickly drained out of his face after heâd managed to place her.
âYou want to go back to Qishan?â Nie Mingjue asked when she seemed to be unable to speak. âMy father is dead; surely your motherâs family would take you, if you didnât mind the rumors.â
To his surprise, she paled and shook her head rapidly.
At his questioning look, she lowered her head and whispered, âThe women of Qishan Wen cannot â it would be a disgrace. And it is â itâs a harsh place to live, cruel and unkind.â
Nie Mingjue had always supposed that to be the case, but he thought he might as well ask. âWhat, then?â
âIâŠI would like to bring someone here. If you donât mind.â
Nie Mingjueâs eyebrows arched. His father hadnât been in the ground a full month, and she wanted to move her lover in? He ought to cut off her head even for suggesting it.
But she was Nie Huaisangâs mother, however much he despised her for neglecting him, and so instead he said, âWho?â
She told him.
Baxia screamed in metal and Nie Mingjue was on his feet, feeling his eyes pound as his sight flickered red with rage: âYou had children?!â he snarled at her, ignoring how her eyes went wide and she backed away from him even though after everything that had happened with his father he hated being feared the most. âYou had children and you left them there?!â
âDa-ge, youâre blocking my light,â Nie Huaisang said, not looking up from his painting, and the moment Nie Mingjue saw how his knuckles had gone white around his brush he turned to face the wall to take deep breaths until he was calm again. He was still facing it when he heard Nie Huaisang speak again, his voice even. âYou should leave, Concubine Wen.â
âI only ââ
âItâs your fault heâs so angry,â Nie Huaisang said, and his voice was as mature as a seven year old could make it â mature, and angry as well, in his own way, really angry rather than throwing a temper tantrum that was halfway for effect. âGo away before you make it worse. Weâll have an answer for you later.â
She left.
A small hand made its way into Nie Mingjueâs, squeezing it lightly. It helped, a little. âWhat did she do?â
âShe has children,â Nie Mingjue said, still staring at the wall. âA girl and a boy â their father died shortly before she met our father. She justâŠshe left them behind in Qishan, which she clearly hates, and she neverâŠsheâs lived here for years. The boyâs only a year older than you. And I had no idea! She never once mentioned them, or visited, or let them visit, or â anything.â
âWhy do you care?â Nie Huaisang asked, tone curious.
âBecause itâs wrong,â Nie Mingjue said. âShe abandoned them. Just like ââ
He shut his mouth, unsure if he wanted to say you or me, but nevertheless Nie Huaisangâs hand tightened on his own, understanding.
A better man might think to himself that this loss was the reason behind her reluctance to get close to Nie Huaisang; Nie Mingjue, whose mother had left him behind and through another womanâs negligence became a parent when he was the same age as her older son would be now, had no space in his heart for sympathy, and all he felt was disappointment.
Still, it was not in the nature of the Qinghe Nie to do nothing when faced with an injustice.
It took a few months to make it work, painful negotiations with Wen Ruohan smirking at him across the table because he had something Nie Mingjue wanted and he knew it, but in the end he managed to arrange for the two children to come to visit Qinghe without explaining exactly why he wanted them.
Not to stay, because Wen Ruohan wouldnât have leverage that way, but it was â something.
âNie Huaisang can show you around,â Nie Mingjue told them, because they were obviously terrified of him and no one, not even little sheep-like Wen Ning, could be scared of Nie Huaisang. âAnd take you to meet your mother, if you like.â
âAnd what if we donât?â Wen Qing asked, crossing her arms. She was a little older, though still a few years shy of Nie Mingjueâs age.
âThen donât,â Nie Mingjue said shortly. âI brought you here for your sake, not hers.â
Somehow, and he really didnât know how, that day had ended with him teaching Wen Ning how to shoot arrows to Nie Huaisangâs over-excited cheering and Wen Qingâs dramatic eye-rolling, and by the time they left they were calling him da-ge the way Nie Huaisang did, even Wen Qing.
He still wasnât sure if theyâd visited their mother.
But then â that wasnât the point.
âTheyâre your brothers and sisters, you know,â he told Nie Huaisang, a slight frown marring his face. âTheyâre as close to you in blood as I am.â
âObviously,â Nie Huaisang sniffed, rolling his eyes â an entire production when he did it, shoulders shrugging and head lolling. âWhy do you think I told them to call you da-ge? Brother and sister of a brother; itâs close enough.â
Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes in return and cuffed him as a brat, but his heart was lightened, a little. From what he knew of the woman, the two Wen children might never have a proper mother, but that was fine; he could do that for them, the way heâd done it for Nie Huaisang, and this way Nie Huaisang would have a er-jie and a san-ge as well.
But the thought was easier said than done â Nie Mingjue was determined to go to war against Wen Ruohan to avenge his fatherâs murder, and it was difficult to balance that enmity with the need to ensure Wen Qing and Wen Ning remained safe, and were not considered hostages.
Jin Guangshan, of all people, ended up helping with that, his mouth so full of sly innuendo about pretty young Wen Qing that even Wen Ruohan seemed halfway convinced by it, and equally convinced that Nie Mingjue would get bored of her quickly enough, an impression Nie Mingjue did his best to encourage.
On the surface, he even let that seem to be the case, letting the visits cease and adopting a blank and uncaring expression any time she was mentioned.
When the war drew nearer, Wen Ruohanâs excesses more unforgivable, Nie Mingjue sent a missive â through five different layers of secrecy that Nie Huaisang had somehow concocted, and Nie Mingjue really didnât want to think about how his useless baby brother figured out something his spies couldnât â asking if Wen Qing and Wen Ning would be willing to seek refuge in Qinghe.
Wen Qing refused, but shared all the information she could, as a healer, in good conscience pass along. She thought they could do more to help people by staying where they were, and Nie Mingjue couldnât fault her for that even if he disagreed â and she promised him that both she and Wen Ning were doing everything they could to fight against injustice, no matter what the circumstance.
Nie Mingjue tried his best to keep track of both of them.
He didnât want to find them dead with a Nie saber in their chests, but he couldnât let people know about their connection, either, or else itâd be a Wen sword in their backs instead. It was a hard balance to draw.
After Meng Yao killed Wen Ruohan, and the sun on earth fell from the sky at last, leaving all those surnamed Wen to pay for the sins of their clansmen, Nie Mingjue made it a priority to find them.
âYou wonât be able to find anyone if you canât walk,â Nie Huaisang scolded him, shoving him back down onto the bed. âIâll go look for them myself. Itâll be fine.â
âIf you canât find them in any of the remaining Wen strongholds, try the prisoner of war camps,â Nie Mingjue said muzzily. He wasnât sure what was in the medicine Nie Huaisang continuously poured down his throat, but it was very strong; he could scarcely feel how many broken ribs he had, but he couldnât feel much else, either. âMaybe someone took them somewhere theyâd be safeâŠâ
âTheyâd better be safe. They promised.â
âHuaisangâŠâ
âWhat if theyâre not safe?â Nie Huaisang fretted. âTheyâre still surnamed Wen. Someone could be bullying them ââ
Nie Mingjue reached out with a hand to pat Nie Huaisangâs knee. He missed the first few times, but eventually got it. âDonât worry about it,â he said firmly. âThey may be surnamed Wen, but theyâre wards of Qinghe Nie; if you see someone bullying them, bully them back â whoâd start something with us now?â
He was speaking lightly. Unfortunately, given that he was talking with Nie Huaisang, he probably shouldnât have been.
âSo, thereâs good news and bad news,â Nie Huaisang announced, blowing into Nie Mingjueâs office. âAlso, you shouldnât be working.â
Nie Mingjueâd heard the same thing from about seven different people â âyouâre still three broken bones over the work limit, Sect Leaderâ â but he was dying of boredom; they should all be happy he was voluntarily limiting himself to paperwork instead of seeing if willpower and some braces could stand up to a basic round of saber training.
âWhatâs the news?â he asked, then brightened when he saw Wen Ning trailing after him. âYou found them!â
âI did! Well, Wen Ning, but he says Wen Qing is still free and looking for him, so I canât imagine sheâll be that hard to find. Also, I may or may not have started a war by stabbing one of the Jin sect main family cultivators.â
Nie Mingjue stared at him.
âHe was beating Wen Ning!â
Nie Mingjue glanced at Wen Ning, who looked anxious enough for it to be true. âWell, in that case, he deserved it,â he said, a little bit begrudgingly. âIs he dead?â
âMaybe?â Nie Huaisang thought about it. ââŠprobably. You know how Aituan gets. Iâm not sorry; Jin Zixun was an ass.â
âDid you at least challenge him to a duel first? Itâll make things easier if you did, though I suppose itâs not strictly necessaryâŠâ
âYouâre not mad?â Wen Ning blurted out, wide-eyed. âSect Leader Nie, if you have to fight another war because of me ââ
âAgainst Lanling Jin?â Nie Mingjue snorted. âI could beat Jin Guangshan with both hands tied behind my back even if I were twice as injured as I am now, and thatâs assuming he lets it get to a fight. Heâll want something else instead; the question will be to see if itâs something Iâm willing to give.â
What he wanted was Wei Wuxianâs head on a platter, or at least his Stygian Tiger Seal.
Nie Mingjue thought about the rumors about Wei Wuxian, frowning, and agreed to think about it, committing to nothing.
He was glad for that, later, when the man himself showed up at one of the Jin prisoner of war camps that Nie Mingjue was demolishing, Wen Qing at his side, clearly ready to tear down the sky to get Wen Ning back.
âUh,â Wei Wuxian said, staring blankly. âYouâre â taking them somewhere?â
âBack to the Nie sect,â Nie Mingjue said. âYou too, Wen Qing; weâve been looking for you everywhere.â
âIs this okay?â Wei Wuxian asked her.
âThis is fine,â Wen Qing said, beaming. âDa-ge will take care of us.â
ââŠus?â
âAfter that scene you made back at Lanling, youâll need it,â she said briskly. âDidnât you hear? Some people were saying that you killed â whatâs his name. Jin Zixun.â
âDonât be ridiculous,â Nie Mingjue said. âNie Huaisang killed him.â
âNie Huaisang?â
âYes.â
âWith â what?â
âHis saber, of course.â
âHisâŠsaber?â
âYes.â
âNo wonder they think I did it,â Wei Wuxian said. âEven I donât believe that story. No offense, Chifeng-zun.â
Nie Mingjue suppressed a sigh, though in fairness he really couldnât blame him. âDoes he really need sanctuary?â he asked Wen Qing. âThe Jiang sectâŠâ
âHe needs it,â she said firmly.
Nie Mingjueâs eyes narrowed, because he knows his younger siblings too well. âYou did something.â
âHow do you do that?â she complained.
Nie Mingjue just shook his head. âIâm your da-ge,â he said. âAll right, come on; help pack everyone up and come to Qinghe. We can deal with the rest of it later.â
âBut ââ Wei Wuxian started to say.
âYou can argue back at Qinghe. Itâs probably better than wherever you were planning on taking them, anyway.â
ââŠI was thinking Yiling?â
âThe Burial Mounds? My young siblings? Absolutely not.â
(When they arrived, there was a woman standing at gate, watching them. She seemed pleased.)
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Team Gremlin verse: The Reunion
(So this is ... a very rough draft so to speak of what I wanna do for the reunion scene with Oscar and Ozpin. Iâm not dubbing it âcanonâ yet because Iâd have to wait for the actual fic to catch up and then tweak accordingly but so far- this is what is in my head and I figured I should let others enjoy the angst :D)
...
   Ozpin slipped away from the crowd exiting the tent with a pounding heart. He could feel his fingers shake on the hilt of Long Memory as he managed to duck into the shadows outside the large emerald and gold tent. He had found him. All this time searching, all this time praying and hoping and looking only to be too late and he had found him. He had sat in the stands and seen the boy in action, heard the music and seen the magic both fake and real, and felt the sheer energy and joy the little Ringmaster felt in his performance like lightning in Ozpinâs own bones. And then- the song. The final song. Because Oscar always rounded off with a song, ones not meant for spectacle, but instead for the heart. A sincere wish and message for those fortunate to sit beneath the ceiling of the Emerald City for the night.
   The song alone could have brought him to tears. But to hear it sung by the little boy in the ring, the impossible, wonderful, miracle child who had every right to lash out at the world in hate, yet instead chose to fill it with wonders ⊠it had been all he could do to keep from crying with there in the stands. To not try to climb down the makeshift seating and into the ring because all heâd wanted was to hold him.
   His son. The son he had never seen outside of grainy photos and shaky recordings, who he had tried desperately to find the more he learned what the child had lived through. And now Ozpin had found him. Now Ozpin had a chance to meet him. He just had to get backstage.
   It wasnât hard to escape the eyes of the crowd, and it wasnât much more difficult to slip through the shadows to the little ring of emerald tents set up behind the big top, the tents where the various performers of the rare and popular Emerald City act stayed. He hesitated on the boundary, trying to pick out which one of the colorful, green-themed tents belonged to the Ringmaster âhis son, his child that he had never gotten to meet, would never have known about save a series of accidentsâ. He heard laughter and activity behind him, the performers returning to their temporary homes, and he ducked forward into the shadows of a tent at random. They would run him off if they found him, he was certain of that. He was a stranger to them at best, or worse, a known player in the war that had created the boy he hoped to meet, that had no doubt hurt many of those who followed him âsuch as Hazel, and how the man had ever been swayed from Salemâs promise of revenge, Ozpin could not fathom but did not want to testâ.
   He heard no activity from the tent he was hiding behind, and while the air whispered with hints of magic, it wasnât coming from this tent, so he moved on to another. This time, he dared peak into the tent flap, but saw nothing but the vague shadows of personal belongings. No sign of the little Ringmaster âhis son, his childâ.
   Ozpin backed away from that tent, heart drumming anxiously in his chest. Then he turned and froze.
   The massive Grimm, the strange one that Qrow called Hound. The monster that for some reason Ozpin never wanted to contemplate âbut had spent many hours doing just thatâ followed his son everywhere. Behaved like it was tame and natural rather than a creature of Darkness that longed only for destruction. It stood just a few feet away, so large itâs head was even with Ozpinâs chin as it watched him with flat, glowing red lights for eyes.
   His fingers tightened on the hilt of Long Memory, lifetimes of instinct screaming to raise his weapon and attack first before it could kill him or anyone else here. But he had seen recordings of this same Grimm, dressed up in ridiculous costumes to hide its true nature from unpracticed eyes, parading around in the circus ring like a big dog. He had seen his son ride on its back and balance on its head and Qrow had recounted more than one instance of Oscar and the other children escaping on its back. It hadnât been present for this particular show, but he had seen multiple recordings of previous ones where it entered the ring and no one had been harmed. Of course, Ozpinâs son âSalemâs son, for all the second half of that coin tore at his gutsâ had been close by all those times, but here there was no one in sight but the two of them.
   The Grimm tilted its head slowly to one side, a ragged ear pricking like an actual dogâs. It wasnât attacking. Even though Ozpin knew he must stink of so many different types of fear he could attract an entire pack of Beowolves all on his own. It just ⊠studied him.
   Slowly, itâs jaws opened, and Ozpin prepared to dodge some attack. Instead, the large, blood red tongue slid out from between massive teeth and lolled there, a slow, thoughtful trio of pants before it licked its teeth and shut its jaws again. Without any further reaction, it lowered its head and turned away, walking slow and ponderously toward one of the tents that had light peaking through the bottom. Ozpin watched it leave with a blank, confused mind, then startled when it stopped and twisted around to look over its shoulder at him.
   It looked like it was waiting.
   It looked like it wanted him to follow.
   Inhaling raggedly âthis was the stupidest thing he had done in lifetimes he was sureâ, Ozpin started following in the Grimmâs footsteps.
   It led him to the tent farthest from the bigtop, nudged open the flap with something like practiced ease, and shouldered its way in. Ozpin lingered outside, suddenly too afraid to go a step further. There was a Grimm in there, but somehow, the realization that his son might be in there was even more terrifying than that. If he stood out here too long, he would be caught, he knew that, and yetâŠ
   âHey, Sondor,â murmured a voice through the tent fabric and Ozpinâs world crystalized, âEverything alright? You left in a bit of a hurry.â A deep rumble, inhuman and bass and ⊠oddly content sounding. The voice âa childâs voice, a gentle voice, a voice heâd just heard laughing and waxing dramatic for a show of fake magic and real mysteriesâ laughed faintly, âChecking on someone then? You know everyone has to stay up late on performance nights.â
   If he held on any tighter to his cane, he thought it might shatter, but the feel of it grounded him like it always had, and with the last bit of courage he possessed in this lifetime, he pushed the tent flap open and slipped inside as the voice âhis sonâ finished saying, âWeâll be sure to take long naps in the morning.â
   Ozpin was here. He was standing in the same space as his child, without a crowd to be wary of or a performance to keep them apart. He was standing in some kind of makeshift workshop, with a cot on the floor on the far side and the vast majority of space taken up by a battered, foldable metal table that seemed to be a desk and all the tools of a magicianâs trade. Cards and wands and hats, gloves and fanciful outfits and a hundred thousand other things that didnât matter, because amid all the mess, with his back mostly to the entrance and a massive Grimm lying contentedly next to his feet, was the Ringmaster.
   His child.
   The Grimm raised its head again to stare at him, a low noise heâd never heard the monsters make before rumbling from its chest, and the boy tilted his head toward the tent entrance absently, still not looking away from the Dust gem he was setting in his elaborate cane, âHey Neo, youâre back early. I thought you were still scoping ⊠outâŠâ he finished setting the Dust in his cane, looked up and saw Ozpin standing there. Neither of them moved. Green-gold eyes in a young face âhe looked ten had Qrow really been correct on estimating his age closer to twelve or thirteen?â went wide, and the magic passively swirling through the tent shrunk in on itself until he couldnât feel it.
   It occurred belatedly to Ozpin that while he had essentially been stalking his son for the last few years in an attempt to meet him and make sure he was okay, the boy wouldnât know him at all. Or worse, had only heard of him from people who hated him âfrom Salem herself evenâ. And now Ozpin had just shown up in the boyâs living space without warning or invitation.
   Terror and nerves tangled up all the words he wanted to say, all the ones heâd longed to say, and instead he found himself folding both of his shaking hands on the pommel of his cane and bleating out the first, most habitual line currently living in his brain, âHello, Iâm Professor Ozpin-.â
   A shout, loud and gutted, and all his words died in his throat again as the boy threw himself off his little camp chair and at Ozpin. Long Memory clattered to the ground unnoticed as Ozpin instinctively raised his hands to wrap around the little body that collided with his waist, slender arms tightening like a vise around him and Ozpin couldnât think, couldnât breathe-.
   Had he really said-?
   A hiccuping sob from the child in his arms, a fully body thing that shook him from his tousled black hair to his shoes while that word spun endlessly in Ozpinâs mind, haunting him and confusing him because he couldnât have heard that right. He couldnât have heardâŠ
   âDad.â
   The word echoed between them again, muffled by a young face buried in his suit jacket, and Ozpin felt his own breath start to stammer as he clung tighter to the boy in his arms, sinking down to his knees despite the screaming in his leg and burying his face in flyaway black hair, âIâm here.â He choked out, âIâm right here. Iâve got you. Youâre alright. Iâm right ⊠Iâm right here.â
   Magic pressed against his skin, burrowed into his soul, needy and desperate and fearful in a way his daughtersâ had never been until the very end âuntil the moment his shield broke and he could no longer protect themâ. It begged him and Ozpin forgot about everything else, forgot every other concern or person in the world as he let his own magic unspool and twine with the younger, needy magic begging him for comfort. Behind his closed eyelids he could see it, the colors spinning and twisting in the space between their souls. His ever-dwindling green wrapping around a younger, deeper, stronger wellspring of emerald laced with snapping red, whispering black and dancing flickers of purple, gold, blue, and white.
   The younger magic coiled tightly in his, desperate and pained, crying in relief and fear just as loudly as the sobs that shook his sonâs body. It was open to him, painfully open and raw, trusting despite how this boy had every reason to fear anotherâs magic. In the breath between crying and comforting and accepting, Ozpinâs magic brushed up against what could only be called a crack in his childâs soul. A jagged old wound that had never properly healed. Glass sharp and weeping and-.
   Pain-pain-pain-fear-fear-please-pleasedonâtleavedonâtleaveme-.
   Magic, green and old, bodiless and desperate and half-mad with agony sinking inside and locking in place in a message that screamed all the way down to bone marrow and soul fiber.
  Mine-my-child-I-love-you-I-loveyoumychildmy-
   âOscar.â Ozpin choked out, struggling to shake off the remnants of memory hidden in soul shards and old wounds. Realization reeled, pulled at the fabric of reality beneath his feet. âOscar,â he repeated, rolling the name of his son over his tongue and wondering at the sensation of right, of familiarity even though he had never met this child before. He had, of course, known his name. The boy made a little joke of it at the beginning of all his performances, but now the name had weight. Had an echo of knowledge to it that he couldnât quite grasp.
   Even though, somehow, his son knew him. And perhaps that should terrify him. Because his son was a child still, yet somewhere in the spaces between incarnations, or in the moments between life and death and dreams, his child remembered him and clung to a message of love even though it had been tangled up in so much pain.
   âI tried,â Oscar sobbed into his chest, âI tried, Iâm- Iâm so sorry-.â
   Ozpin hushed him, ran shaking fingers through his sonâs hair and ignored the way his glasses had completely blurred over from the tears they caught, âI know. Itâs alright. Youâre alright. Youâre alive, Oscar.â He guided his sonâs face to his scarf and pressed his cheek against the top of Oscarâs head, âYouâre alive. Thatâs all that matters to me.â He inhaled raggedly and set aside the spinning theories trying to take root, the odd mix of age-youth-age and time-turned-back in Oscarâs magic that made him wonder. He had long assumed that Oscarâs aging was ⊠strange, a byproduct of being the child of two immortals. Yet feeling Oscarâs magic, the soft echo of bells and clockwork gears hidden inside it, he couldnât help but remember that gravity and its magic was an aspect of space and space was a partner of time. There had been spells that toyed with time long ago that left impressions on the souls that used them, though never on such a large scale as what Ozpin was contemplating.
   But if anyone could reinvent a way to turn back the hands of the worldâs clock, it would be the child of Ozma and Salem, surely âhad his son known a previous incarnation, or had his son met Ozpin himself in the future, had he lived a prisoner of Salem until he was a teen or even an adult, only meeting his father to see him die in agony at his motherâs hands, had a single dying message of love amid a lifetime of darkness truly been enough to make him fight time itself to make things rightâ.
   But that didnât matter right now.
   He was here. Oscar was here. They were both alive and safe and his little boy was tucked trustingly in his arms, and that was what mattered right now. It mattered more than anything else in the world.
   âI love you, Oscar,â he whispered into his sonâs hair as he rocked them back and forth, uncaring of his jacket and scarf becoming soaked with tears, or the way Oscarâs magic coiled around his soul so tightly it was almost burning, âI love you. Iâm here.â
   âI missed you,â Oscar choked out between sobs, another piece to Ozpinâs puzzle set aside for later times, âI love y-you t-too.â A hiccup, loud and ugly, a shiver in Ozpinâs arms, âDonât go.â
   âI wonât,â Ozpin promised, hand cradling the back of Oscarâs head, trying to shield him from the nightmares he could sense lurking within, âI wonât go. Iâm right here.â He exhaled wetly, âIâm right here.â
#Secret Engima Rambles#Melodies and Manuscripts#Team Gremlin verse#the song oscar sung in the circus this time#was Home by Jeff Williams#in case ya'll wanna break your feels
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Twenty-eight years ago, famed science-fiction author Octavia Butler published her apocalyptically prescient bestselling novel Parable of the Sower, which illustrated what America would look like when climate change, economic instability, and a white Evangelical Christian fascist movement took hold and converged.
Sound familiar?
The eeriest part about this novel is the way in which cultural and political norms were slowly erased. There was no major war, no invasion; instead, a sense of collective lethargy set in across the nation, and things went from bad to worse. Religious fundamentalism seized the country, slavery was reintroduced, water was scarce, and all the social safety nets that the government once provided were rolled back in favor of privatization. If you could afford police protection, health care, the creation of roads and bridges, greatâif not, you were out of luck. Butler was clearly ahead of her time. She combined her brilliant imagination with a keen understanding of human behavior to illustrate where the U.S.A. was headed if we continued our ostrich behavior of sticking our heads in the sand and pretending that what was unfolding before our eyes wasnât happening.
Right now, America as we have come to understand it is unraveling. In this radically new normal world, doctors and health care workers are accosted for trying to keep the public safe, poll workers are threatened for counting votes, anyone who aides a pregnant person seeking an abortion in Texas can be sued, mass shootings are commonplace, and historic climate events are happening weekly. Former Secretary of State Madeline Albright famously said regarding fascism, âIf you pluck a chicken one feather at a time, people donât notice it. So I am concerned about chicken plucking.â
We all should be very concerned.
Contrary to what people think, Americaâs democratic erosion didnât begin with Donald Trump; it began with the birth of the Tea Party as a response to a Black man having the audacity to think he could be president. It was the first time in modern history when White Americans were demanding to see the presidentâs birth certificate because in their minds even though Black Americans were brought here by their ancestors and built this nation, we certainly didnât have a claim to it â let alone be permitted to run it.
President Barack Obama wanted to believe in the best of Americans as opposed to the reality of who they truly are. Better put: Obama is who America aspires to be while Trumpism is who America is and sadly has always been.
We are a country that made Juneteenth a federal holiday while criminalizing the teaching of critical race theory. We are a country that goes around the world scolding underdeveloped nations about democracy and womenâs rights while refusing to pay women in this country equal to men and disallowing people with uteruses to make decisions about their own bodies. Weâre a country wrought with blatant contradictions and saddled with elected officials who spend their energy gaslighting the public into believing all is okay and that if you just use paper straws and vote, all will continue to be well.
The reality is much starker.
Under Democratic presidents and congresses, we have witnessed the gutting of the Voting Rights Act, the demolition of Roe v. Wade, and a rise in White supremacist groups. As our country grapples with multiple climate disasters, we have Democrats like Joe Manchin who are âuncomfortable with climate languageâ in a historic infrastructure bill and actively deny Black and Brown Americans access to the ballot in favor of upholding the filibuster. You see, itâs too easy to just slap the blame of where we are right now on Republicans and Republicans alone. The reality is that you teach people how to treat you, and most people will do their worst if unchecked â insert Trumpâs criminal presidency and the January 6 insurrection as examples.
Like children, politicians need boundaries and accountability; otherwise, they will run amok.
The 243-year American experiment is facing an existential threat like we have never seen before. Voting alone will not save us. We turned out in record numbers during a pandemic, and instead of celebrating our resilience, Republicans are punishing Americans for daring to believe they have a voice in their democracy.
How can you change what you refuse to face? How can you build tactics for what you choose to willfully ignore because the reality is just too hard to swallow? Democracy isnât stagnant. If done correctly, it evolves as often as the people do. It expands. It grows.
America is changing. The ground we once thought was stable is shifting beneath our feet. Itâs scary and itâs painful like all births, but we must push through if we are to survive. Lauren Olamina, the heroine in Butlerâs Parable series, said this, âAll that you touch you change. All that you change changes you. The only lasting truth is change. God is change.â What we change into, however, is still very much up to us, but only if we take our heads out of the sand and decide to get to work.
[alt|h/t]
#danielle moodie#medium#octavia butler#octavia e. butler#octavia estelle butler#parable of the sower#lauren olamina
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Iâve often said that it seems like a lot of the main pros below All Might seem to end up representing serious flaws in hero society; specifically the ones on the hero side of things. So as a fun little exercise I thought Iâd go over all those main pros and what flaws they represent (should be easy, theyâre usually their own personal character flaws). Maybe also give my assessment to what I think their chances of living to the end of the series are while Iâm at it, since representing serious flaws in the old guard can be hazardous to your health if treated poorly.
Endeavor
A man who needs no introduction if youâre any kind of HeroAca fan. love or hate him, everyone knows the new no.1.
Funnily enough, heâs actually the main exception to the rule we mentioned before about a prosâ character flaw being the flaw they thematically represent. See, his character flaw is that he focus so much on heroics, his career in heroics, or just his own general needs over his family; to the point that he only had a family to have children he could live vicariously though, and felt no obligation to love the ones he couldnât live through. What he represents, is actually two-fold: 1) the toxicity of the ranking system which makes heroics so competitive and encourage heroes focus on some arbitrary number, and 2) the power heroes have that let them do horrible things and get away with it. Theyâre connected concepts, for sure, but not exactly synonymous.
And with that said, what are his chances of survival? Well, the ranking toxicity is out of his hands, but besides that...it can be hard to tell. He has, under semi-aggressive guidance of his family, publicly taken responsibility for the things heâs done and vowed to make up for it; which helps his chances considerably. But in that same scene he also said that the only way he can atone is to keep doing what heâs always done; beat up villains and at least 1 family member. It sends a mixed message. But in general; I want to say that heâs gotten enough development that he doesnât feel set to fail his arc now. Iâd be tempted to say his chances look pretty good...were it not for all the separate reasons I think heâs likely to die anyway. Oh well, no oneâs situation can be perfect.
Hawks
The controversial hero; Hawks!
Iâve summarized Hawksâ main flaw before as âhubrisâ, partially because heâs an Icarus figure so generalizing it like that feels clever, but itâs a bit more complex than that. Hawks main flaw isnât so much pride as it is self-righteousness. Hawks represents the belief that everything is just right as it is, and the status quo must therefore be protected at all costs. A denial that the heroes he believes in have done anything wrong even after staring their mistakes in the face and spending months talking with those the heroes failed. In fact to contrast Endeavorâs line to the press; Hawks tried to excuse what he did as though it had to be done. Thatâs the opposite of promising.
With that said, what are his chances of survival? Well, Iâd actually put him at 50/50 odds; since I see 2 endings for him, and itâs too early to tell which is more likely. See, while weâve only got two instances of a âpattern,â Hawks seems like a guy who falls to the ground, recovers and gets back up, only to fall even further down because he never learns. So his two futures are either: A) To actually learn. Take a fall so hard that in the aftermath, he canât convince himself he was right all along. Maybe he gets Endeavor killed, or does something to sever their relationship. Something thatâd force him to self-reflect. B) To take a fall so hard it proves fatal; his mistakes catching up to him in a way that doesnât give him a chance to self-reflect.
Best Jeanist
Sir Long Neck McImagine Obsession himself.
Best Jeanist represents the self-interest in hero society can have over justice itself. Already known for being focused on superficial image; heâs dramatic reappearance revealed just how deep that went. For when itâs revealed by a villain that a hero has committed great crimes that ended up motivating that villainâs actions; Jeanistâs immediate concern was the damage this would do to the reputation of heroes. More than what kind of person heâs been working alongside, and even more than saving lives, Jeanistâs first thought went the wellbeing of the industry he works in and how bad they would collectively look to the public; thatâs what heâs most angry at Dabi for.
Chances of survival are...maybe 40-50%? Thereâs no real leaning one way or another frankly, so that kind of feels like itâd put him at even odds for the exact opposite reason as Hawks. Will he live? Will he die? Who can say? Leaning just a bit towards death though, because again, representing flaws in the old guard can be hazardous to your health.
Mirko
And here we have the violent one.
While Iâm tempted to lump this one with Hawks, I actually think Ms.Mirko represents the heroes use of incredible violence best. See, Mirko is someone who really likes to beat people up, even once in a spin-off said Bakugouâs drive to murder was a good thing in a hero. And while she wonât even feel the need to kill like Hawks apparently did, her response to fighting the High End Nomu was something like âfinally, some villains I get to just kill with no ethical issues, that makes things easyâ. (Which, considering the High Ends are sentient is, um, hmm). Her love of violence borders on villainous, and she freely admits it is simple obligation that prevents her from crossing that boundary. Itâs reminiscent of when Shigaraki pondered what the difference really was between heroesâ & villainsâ violence. And, well, if it closes the gap in morality between heroes and villains, itâs going on this list.
Regarding her chances of survival, like Jeanist sheâs not exactly defined enough to really say anything for sure or end up on any extreme end; Iâve no real reason to think sheâs very likely live or die. That said; on the one hand she seems a bit more eagerly reveling in the flaw she represents, plus a blood knight getting back into the fight after sustaining heavy injuries is never a good sign. On the other hand, Horikoshi clearly likes her for reasons we wonât address here. I think Iâm gonna average it out to 50%. Maybe even 60%.
Kamui Woods & Mt. Lady
You wouldnât think some of the most plain as bread heroes would be joining the ranks of the problematic, and in fairness thatâs because they mostly arenât, but they are the ones who best represent a serious issues with heroes. They represent the way heroes will focus on flashiness & the problems they cause/exasperate in the process. Misconduct performed in the quest for fame; in so many words. Kamui showed this in chapter 1; calling a giant purse snatcher âevil incarnateâ because that villain was attention grabbing and disturbing the peace. This is especially noticeable in hindsight, after weâve see some real problems heroes could be dealing with but arenât; like lost children on their way to becoming villains. And Mt. Lady represent it by how she operates in a big city despite her powers really working better for more rural or neighborly environments; because city work makes her more popular and rakes in the cash (that she loses paying for repairs).
That said, even if those are flaws I feel are highly associated with them, none of that is stuff theyâre actively involved in; theyâre naĂŻve at best, and have already improved considerably (for minor characters at least) into better heroes. Frankly speaking, their changes of survival are probably averaging at 85% (80% for Kamui, 90% for Mt.). Like, theyâre not gag characters per se; but theyâre not super serious characters, theyâre not connected to the MCs in any real way, and they donât knowingly contribute to any of societyâs corruptions. Really, so long as big H doesnât really want to off someone we know for a shock, theyâre probably fine.
Gran Torino
And lastly, the only non-big shot on the list, the unpleasant old geezer himself; Gran Torino!
What GT represents better than any other, I think, is the idea of passing any blame a hero may have for the actions/very existence of a villain on to the villain in question, thus allowing the heroes to better absolve themselves. You know like how with Shigaraki, he ignores any fault he has with that guysâ existence and simplifies him down to a criminals they can only beat down; and how dare he exist and thereby hurt Toshinoriâs feelings. On that note, Iâd say he also represents the idea that the villains are what they are, theyâre too far gone, and thereâs nothing the heroes can do about it. The most convenient excuse to not ever have to try to make up for what they did wrong, which you canât even blame them too much for because they âtried their bestâ (even if they really didnât).
So, what are his odds? Well frankly I wanna put him at 0% just cause heâs so old that if a villain doesnât get him, time will. But thatâs cheating. In actuality, itâs hard to say; dudeâs a stubborn old man, and it really feels like it will depend on his ability to admit how wrong he handled things regarding Tomura. Now admittedly, he did admit to making the wrong choice in handling Kotaro, but heâs said nothing of Tomura so far. For now Iâll put him at 30%, but weâll have to see if he sticks to his guns regarding current events next time he talks with All Might or whoever to really get a gasp on his chances.
And thatâs about all the big ones so weâll wrap it up. Anyway the point is it feels like a lot of heroes are gonna need to get their acts together lest they risk coming down with Not Alive Syndrome sometime in the future.
#bnha#hero society#anti endeavor#anti hawks#anti best jeanist#anti mirko#anti gran torino#kamui woods#mt. lady#(I do talk about those two but they're fine)
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iâm jealous of your big heart when it comes to animals lmao. iâm arachnophobic and it can be so annoying to have sometimes. i havenât been able to tie it back to astrology, as much as i would like to. i asked because i was wondering if there was a clear indicator based off certain placements like how 6th house rules animals, 6th is ruled by mercury so i jumbled them even though i probs shouldnât have lol. and with venus it ties to personal taste so i wondered if it could indicate a liking towards a certain animal. i have sag and sag venus in 6th and embarrassingly enough, i was obsessed with horses. like i came out of the womb adoring them. as soon as i learned to talk i was a walking horse encyclopedia. my obsession died down. iâm not a horse girl, i swear on my life.
i agree with you about the cancer loving animals. animals are babies and momma cancer loves to nurture the babies. i feel like cancers are the most likely to hate the âare you a dog or cat personâ question. theyâd get offended because how dare someone assume their heart isnât big enough for both. more than both, really. throw a turtle in there. a rabbit even. cancer asc peeps usually have a shit ton of animals. itâs probably the sag/abundance in the 6th. or they either own a horse or Great Dane. but this is off topic because i forgot i had a follow up question.
if you could tie an animal or a couple animals to each sign that you think best represents that sign? or just seems like one theyâd like? some are so easy and others just leave me blank. my arachnophobia thinks scorpioâs deserve better than scorpions but my terror blinds me. but i was looking up the symbolism behind animals and tying them to signs. so far, iâve concluded that while horses should go with sag, their highly intuitive and empathetic animals. their behavior is like a mirror so if youâre nervous, they are too. so pisces or cancer actually seems to be a better fit. and to stay on topic of cancer with animals, i always tie wolves and dogs in general to cancer. the wolves are tied to the moon and familial dynamics and also i think theyâre a great symbolic opposition to leo and how leos tend to resemble cats. sun and moon, dog and cat, night and day, that sort of thing. i realized iâve rambled but iâm looking forward to your opinion because iâm so lost on what other signs would have. itâs been a year old question in my brain and itâs time for help from the master.
I'm sorry to hear that, I'm had a friend once who was arachnophobic and having phobias like these is really no fun, I can't imagine what it feels like really having them. And omg don't feel bad for liking horses when you were a child, literally so many children, especially young girls, like horses simply because people decided horses where a 'teenage girls only' thing somehow?? (and I will have to dig deeper into this at a point because here where I come from the horse girl thing is soooo painfully real and I want to understand the phenomena). And if I'm not mistake, arachnophobia (like most types of phobias), stem from some kind of trauma right? I absolutely don't try to get to personal but if we look at phobias in that way, maybe it's good to also include looking at planets/asteroids that point to trauma or aspects that can represent/indicate traumatic experiences in that sense! And I agree wholeheartedly to the 'dog or cat' question, I don't get offended by it but I hate this question in general because every animal deserves my love and empathy adfghj and yes, mother feelings definitely play into this haha! I think cancers enjoy (to an extent) having that occasional (or constant) outlet for their nurturing side and the bound you have to animals is also very intuitive and requires a lot of patience and getting educated as well as being observant and reading between the lines somehow and all that dedication paired with emotional knowledge just really speaks to water signs in general (and animals don't judge openly with words, just your energy asdfgh) Uhh, I like the question regarding the animals and I agree with your takes on it so far!! I think one animal can not represent all the core traits of a sign alltogether, but I'll try my best here! and psdfghj no need to call me master because I'm literally so far from anything close to that but thank you so much still, I feel honored really!!
The Signs as Animals:
Disclaimer: some of them are inspired by my âthe Wild Unknown Animal Spiritâ tarot deck.
Aries: House cat. I know, I always thought cats actually link pretty well to Aries! Cats are just the perfect mixture of intelligen and curious, reserved, stubborn, aggressive, senstive as well as playful/impulsive! They are quick to learn and not afraid to face off against any other, bigger animals, but also can live pretty well together with other pets in the house, as long as they donât bother them too much. Especially when it comes to intimacy/pda they are very picky, but forceful when demand it. Seem flexible and unbothered at first but actually have the firmest boundaries when it comes to their personal freedom. Will let you believe they need you but give it a few weeks and the neighbor has better treats than you and gone they are asdfgh, but it's actually a harmful stereotype to believe that cats don't need you because they can become extremely fond of you and grow very attached.
Taurus: Elk. Based on the interpretation of my tarot deck. The elk represents earth energy, it is grounded, is established in itself and knows their core values and acts according to them. They show consistency, coherence and care. Dedicated to who they love and what they care for. Can become narrow minded due to knowing what's best, based on their perception of what's right and necessary, which can effect their ego negatively. Very Taurus for me. Gemini:Â Dragonfly. I refer to the interpretation of the Dragonfly based on my tarot deck. The dragonfly represents the mind: everchanging, quick, fascinating, a reflection of the world inside us and aroudn us. As the dragonfly is very quick (refering to Mercury's fast and nervous energy) the dragonfly also calles for paying attention to what quality our mind has and to become mindful, because on first glance things always appear different tahn on first glance (Mercury floats between detail-oriented and paying attenetion and being too fast, impatient). The dragonfly is joy and magic, as well as impatience, restlessness and being unable to concentrate. Cancer: Killer Whales (but also whales in general)! I thought especially about Killer Whales, because I once watched a documentary on them and they went in depth about how they have different cultures and different languages even (if I remember correctly) in their familys. Cancer often gets associated with the home life, but I think I wanted to look at it from another perspective, as in how does family 'become' family and how do those family roots develope, what do they consist of, how do we define family and what holds it together (and especially: how do our roots shape our own emotional patterns and nature in life?). I think the mystery of the Killer Whales but the whole complexity that lies behind the fascination of how these animals function and also how deeply affected Killer Whales are by their emotions/when they are absent from their kin, just opens up another big question of family dynamics and how we relate to one another and how principles we always condoned to human beings now apply to animals too. I think the whole part about the Killer Whales relation to emotions and their family's cultures just really made me link them to Cancer. Leo: Otter. I refer o the meaning of teh Otter based on my tarot deck. The Otter resembles the energy of the inner child: it's pure bliss, playfulness, they love to live and live for life itself, and out of this eagerness to enjoy life comes also a contentment and completeness towards life itself. To reconnect with otter energy, it is advised to step into settings of celebration, or total creative self expression and from the outside looking 'unproductive/selfish' indulgence. But actually, this energy is what makes life so enjoyable in the first place.
Virgo: Octopus. Highly intelligent beings that can quickly adapt and take the initiative. Self sufficient by nature, they aren't aggressive unless provoked, they like to mind their business unless they get curious (then they cling heavy onto you because you are their new object of interest). They can change color if it's needed (Virgo is a mutuable sign and can blend in perfectly in social occasions/new situations) and tbh the inking part about octopus just reminds me of the fact that most Virgos have a really quirky side to them you only get to see when you annoy them long enough (aka you are a long term friend). Libra: Gazelle. I refer to the meaning of ten Gazelle based on my tarot deck. The gazelle combines the creation of beauty and harmony, creativity and hyper awareness of it's surroundings, very affected of the imbalances in it's environment, but in it's try to remain this beauty around them, they tend to forget their achievments and stay in the present with their thoughts, as they constantly wheigh out the 'what if's'. A very perceptive animal in the tarot deck and this attribute is equally it's strong suit and downfall. Scorpio: Tiger. I refer here to the meaning of the Tiger based on my tarot deck. Waits in stillness and darkness to reconnect to their own inner power. Healing in isolation with the help of the lunar forces, waiting to regenerate. The Tiger energy shows itself in being passionate, sensual and stepping into ones own power, recognizing ones strength. For me, this is very Scorpio (Moon) for me. When the Tiger in unbalanced, it becomes overstimulated and acts according to this hyperawareness. Sagittarius: Zebra. I refer here to the meaning of the Zebra based on my tarot deck. The Zebra stands for an open mind, visionary and eccentric, new thinking, as well as being young at heart and expansion. I personally connect horses with passion and drive, because they are truly powerhouses. Based on the meaning of my tarit deck, the Zebra also is sociable, at least people find themselves drawn to the energy of the Zebra because it triggers their desire to learn, and I think this is something very beautiful Sagittarius symbolizes when they come into your life: be prepared to broaden your horizon for more.Â
Capricorn: Camel. I refer to the meaning of the Camel based on my tarot deck. Camels here represent absolute dependence on self and being able to find the answer to problems in oneself. This self reliance and capability reminds me of capricorns, the camel is finding the 'cool' aka water inside of them and Capricorn is traditionally also symbolized as the sea-goat (which I seriously think should really be considered when anaylzing this archetype) and Capricorns have (imo at least) a rich emotional life, but it's just deeply locked within. The Camel represents showing responsibility for their own actions, regulating the self and circumstances around them as best as they can, which makes sense for Capricorns, ruled by Saturn they usually are confronted with task in their life. If the Camel energy is out of balance, it shows a lack of vitality, with Capricorn representing the senior age in life makes sense, especially since Capricorns can tend to feel very old (exhausted)- Aquarius: Platypus- and no, Iâm not using the Platypus because âwow all Aquarius are so weird like straight up aliens đ€Șđ€Șâ I think the platypus is a good representation because it makes us question what weâve known so far about animals and Aquarius too is a sign that introduces us to new ideas and perspectives all in the favor of progress and considering alternatives, leaving the status quo. Pisces: Raven/Crow. I name these two in particular because as far as I know itâs only the ravens that have been documented intimating peopleâs voices and tones, but crows are definitely more known for their bright mind. For me people often forget Pisces mutable nature and how quick witted they actually are. These birds are hyper intelligent and their observational skills are truly amazing. In my Wild Uknown Animal Spirit deck, the crow is an animal carrying 3rd eye energy. Here, the view is clear, the crow is moving through different dimensions and sees what otherâs cant. For and the emotional depth (void) Pisces is conencted to it just seem to make sense.Â
#i swear i will be more active the next days#replies#anonymous#astrology#zodiac#the signs as#the signs as animals
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Hi can i have a headcanon with miya osamu and atsumu when their s/o is autistic ? Ps: i love your writing
Hello luv!! I'm sorry I couldn't write this sooner. I had to do a bit of research because I wanted to do my very best for such an important prompt :D I really hope you'll enjoy this đđ with that in mind, please tell me if something is not to your liking, or if I've gotten something wrong ^^
My inbox was also very full and I had to make my way to this request đđâšđđ
I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sending me this and I love you so much!! Please stay safe, and take care!!
Atsumu
Very gentle! He thinks of you as his precious little angel, and he's always trying his best to make sure you're comfortable whenever you go somewhere new or different, or just anytime in general.
Always asks you if it's okay if he holds you or initiates physical contact. If you say yes, he scoops you in his arms and holds you tightly, pressing kisses on your forehead and nose! Of you say no, he completely understands, and will just remain close to you, whispering softly that he loves you.
Very proud of you! If someone dares say anything hurtful about you, you can just bet Atsumu is there to defend you right away, and give that person a piece of his mind. He can't stand other people being ignorant, and after trash talking them to the ground (without you being present, of course), he tells them to be more mindful towards other people.
He's mindful of your feelings. It's very important to our darling Tsumu that he's aware of how you're feeling, and what's okay and not okay for that time. If he thinks the crowds are getting too much for you, he'll gently steer you away to a less crowded area.
If it's too loud or noisy, you can just bet Atsumu is there to softly whisper âI love yaâ in your ear and take you to a quieter place.
Admires how straightforward you are. Since Atsumu is a very honest person himself, you are the perfect pair since he never has to beat around the bush or disguise his intentions when it comes to you. It's all about healthy communication!
If you stim, he's smiling and thinking you look adorable. Waits till you calm down before ruffling your hair with a fond expression. âyer so cuteâ he whispers under his breath.
Finds it very informative if you begin talking about something you like! ( Special interests ) he might not always be listening 100% but he admires how dedicated and attentive you are to finding out as much as you can about the things that you're interested in. He understands it very well, since he's a volleyball player who's extremely passionate about his own sport.
Loves making you music playlists and gives you a pair of f/c (favourite colour) headphones on your birthday. You listen to his playlists, which not only calm you down, but also remind you how much he loves you through the lyrics.
Definitely shares a special song with you, and whenever either of you are going through something, or miss each other deeply, you play the song and smile.
Probably has a very cute nickname for you, and he loves calling you that (if you're okay with it), and telling his brother how "(nickname) is just the coolest person ever."
He also talks to all his teammates at msby, and friends about you, constantly telling them a new story, or just about the smallest things in general. They're all very sure he's so extremely whipped for you xD
Probably loves playing board games with you. Is very competitive, and appreciates it if you are too. Definitely make it a weekly thing to play board games together and even keep track of who wins more.
Winner gets cuddles ;D
I think despite everything, Atsumu really likes clothing, and will buy you clothes he thinks looks nice on you. It would make his day if you wore it somewhere, because he'll feel so proud to know you trust his style judgement.
The same way, he respects your opinion and even asks you questions often, because he loves hearing your point of view on things and taking it into account when he makes decisions.
All in all, 10/10, the most wholesome and precious boy you will ever find, next to his brother. (HC below)
Osamu
Sometimes, when you find a new topic of interest that gets you super excited, he smiles happily and listens to you attentively. It could be when he's making onigiri and you're sitting on the counter, talking with so much enthusiasm, he just falls deeper in love with you.
Makes food that fits your preferences! (Because I read that sometimes, it differs by colour, and sometimes if differs by flavour). He's always ready with a personalized bento box for you, made with so much love and affection, and you know food from him tastes like home, because he has you in mind when he makes it.
If you follow a routine, Osamu is the perfect man for you. He's very disciplined and tries his best to stick to a schedule just like you. Although they're different routines, you appreciate him understanding if you can't be somewhere, due to a certain routine you need to follow, and he doesn't just randomly have dates, taking the effort to plan and tell you in advance.
Appreciates how you find joy in the little things, and how curious you can get about things sometimes. He thinks it's adorable, when you have this face, when you're learning about something new, and his spirits are lifted when he's the first person you tell about it to. It makes him feel so special.
If you dislike crowds, Osamu is perfect for you (yet again). He definitely prefers to stay at home and watch a movie, or cook you dinner instead of going out to a restaurant, since he loves the comfort of his own home, and quietness when you spend time together.
You help him out at his onigiri shop, sometimes, happy to support your boyfriend. Since he knows you aren't good with social situations, he teaches you how to make the onigiri instead.
Since it's an important part of his shop, it shows that he really trusts you, and teaches you with care and patience until you've mastered it. The smile on your face after making it perfectly was enough for him.
When you two are apart, he sets a specific time to call you every day, and without fail, your phone rings at the designated time, and he greets you with a âhey babe, what're ya doing right now?â.
Likes going stargazing with you, and the both of you learn about the different constellations in the sky so that you can name them the next time you spot them.
Your parents adore him! I mean, he's polite, kind, soft-spoken, but most importantly, they can see that he genuinely loves you with all his being. The trust him completely and always joke around saying they can't wait till he becomes a part of the family officially.
If you have a younger sibling, they're definitely fond of him too. Osamu is amazing with children. He makes them pancakes whenever he visits, and loves reading them stories or watching shows with them.
Oh and much like Atsumu, Osamu is also very mindful and observant of you. He's always keeping check of how you're feeling and understanding boundaries and space, respecting you completely. If you feel uncomfortable, he apologizes immediately, and stops whatever he's doing.
Asks you before he does anything, like hug, kiss, or other forms of physical contact. (king of consent!!)
Radiates protective vibes! Without being overbearing or suffocating. He cares about you, but not so much that it becomes possessive or a problem.
Is just a genuine sweetheart, and would treat you like a queen/king. Wouldn't look at anyone else, and often says that he's âfallen in love with youâ, with a small twinkle in his eye.
Thinks you're the most beautiful human he's ever met, not just on the outside, but the inside too.
Taglist: @k-sakusa-old @osamusriceballz
#miya twins#atsumu hcs#atsumu x y/n#atsumu x you#atsumu headcanons#miya atsumu#atsumu fluff#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu hcs#haikyuufanfics#inarizaki#inarizaki x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu osamu#osamu fanfic#osamu headcanons#osamu fluff#miya osamu#autism#autism headcanons
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how would you describe cielâs and sebastianâs relationship? like yes literally itâs contractor and the one who agrees to the contract. but like their day to day relationship with eachother. i dont ship them but i love how they interact with one another but donât know how to characterize their relationship.
Dear Anon,
O!Ciel and Sebastianâs relationship is not something I could fit into any inter-human relationship categories. This is because theirs is simply something that seems very unlikely for humans to have in our society. However, that is exactly what makes this master-servant duo interesting.
Most clinically, O!Ciel and Sebastian are indeed master and servant, child and adult. Though surely very rare, child-employers with adult-employees might exist in our world. What makes O!Ciel and Sebastianâs relationship unique is by no means limited to this âsubversionâ of child-adult dynamic. Let us unpack this master-servant bond category by category, layer by layer.
1. Child vs Adult â Age Dynamic
A unique characteristic of O!Ciel and Sebastianâs relationship is how they do not behave like any child vs adult would. Sebas treats O!Ciel like a child, but he does not see his master as a child. And by âchildâ, I mean more specifically âa less-than-adultâ person. To Sebastian who is centuries old, a human who is 13 is as inexperienced and foolish as a 30 or 60 year old human. Instead, it seems like Sebas treats O!Ciel like a child only because it gets on his masterâs nerves and it is entertaining.
We must remember that humans are cattle to Sebas, and that O!Ciel is no exception. For analogyâs sake, let us imagine a pig. Humans usually donât have a higher regard or respect for adult pigs than they have for piglets. We donât take adult pigs more seriously than we do piglets.
2. Master vs Servant â Power Dynamic
The most unique part in O!Ciel and Sebasâ relationship is not that a child is the employer of an adult, omnipotent demon. The uniqueness is in the detail that this specific employer has absolute command over Sebastian, and can even use the demonâs powers against him at will. We see in the Werewolf Arc for example, how O!Ciel has practically already broken his end of the contract. Sebastian was in full right to claim his payment for his service and return home. But since the contract was technically not over yet, O!Ciel stopped the demon from exerting his right with just one simple phrase: âitâs an order.â
Sebastian may seem all-powerful, but if O!Ciel wishes to make Sebas do something against his will, O!Ciel merely needs to use the binding magical term âitâs an orderâ. This binding term is so powerful it can infringe all of Sebastianâs personal autonomy, and it would be ââlegalââ. What if Sebas doesnât want to be touched? âItâs an order, let person X touch you and get away without harm.â What if Sebas doesnât want to expose himself to lethal danger? âItâs an order, do it anyway.â
This is the reason why SebaCiel could never work (even if O!Ciel were an adult!), simply because the power balance is inherently tipped way too much to O!Cielâs side. A romantic and/or sexual relationship cannot work as long as the power balance is off, and true consent cannot be given on all sides. Consent that can be coerced, or cannot be withdrawn freely, is not true consent, after all.
3. Master vs Servant - Bickering
There is a lot of back-and-forth bickering between O!Ciel and Sebastian, which is very uncharacteristic of employer-employee relationships (No way Iâm going to bicker against my boss!) Sometimes the bickering is light-hearted and comical, and I surmise this is part of the reason people might have the illusion that their power-dynamic is not completely off (as described above).
This light-hearted bickering is a great appeal, and it makes the master not behave like a full master, and the servant not like a full servant. On surface their contract bears semblance to a friendly relationship wherein both parties also fulfil their respective roles in this employment. This is a powerful ingredient in their usually fantastic cooperation during their missions! O!Ciel allows Sebas some freedom (when he sees fit), while Sebas returns this âkind gestureâ with helpful initiatives (when he sees fit). I dare say that many if not most âKuroshitsujiâ fans are here exactly for this reason. Regardless of how fantastic this cooperation might be however, at core their relationship is still âemploymentâ.
On the darker side however, this bickering is also one of the fruits born from insidious manipulation. In this post I discussed how Sebastian stretches his arms and legs as WIDELY as possible within his tiny constraints. To a certain extent, O!Ciel turns a blind eye (pun not intended) to it. Why though?
Of course O!Ciel is not a complete tyrant towards Sebastian, but this is the result that Sebastian managed to fight and win for himself. All the way back in chapter 138 Sebas didnât even know O!Ciel yet, and yet he already made very clear that:
He should not try to exert too much control over him
That if he does try to do so, he should be careful with words
That if he is not careful, Sebas will take any opportunity to punish him for careless word-choice
In this small incident O!Ciel learned that if his demon misbehaves, heâd have himself to blame. THIS is the silent lesson Sebas instilled into the boy; that if Sebas mistreats O!Ciel, it is not Sebas who crossed boundaries, but that O!Ciel didnât set the boundaries right. âO!Ciel had it comingâ. This lesson taught by Sebas leans dangerously close to â if not downright within â the category of victim-blaming. (Sebas you trashy Trash Demonâą, I love you.)
3.1. Circus Arc
So far in the manga, the most obvious example of this victim-blaming dynamic is the incident with the snakes in the Circus Arc. Sebas very clearly reminded O!Ciel that he is not above allowing his master to get hurt semi-mortally. O!Ciel was seething when he found out, and justly so. But did Sebas show any remorse? Of course not. Instead he blamed O!Ciel for:
Not being careful enough with his commands
Being too boring to see the âfunâ in this game
3.2. Jack the Ripper Arc
Far more dramatically, this same victim-blaming dynamic can found in the Jack the Ripper Arc, and this one arguably even dictated how O!Ciel is going to become as a person.
In the Ripper Arc Sebas also obeyed O!Cielâs order to the T. But thatâs it; only to the T and nothing more. Because the demon deliberately withheld information from his master necessary for the investigation, more victims fell while the case was still in O!Cielâs hands. Who gets the blame? Jack the Ripper obviously. But who is made to bear the guilt? O!Ciel is; through the victim-blaming Sebastian made him internalise.
O!Ciel is still O!Ciel, so he probably didnât really lose any sleep over the deaths of 5 people. But had he not been him, then surely this guilt would have been mind-crippling. However, we need to bear in mind that O!Ciel was not unaffected; had Sebas not withheld information, then O!Ciel would have stopped the murders earlier, and presented a scapegoat to the Queen. Letâs be fair, had Madam been arrested then sheâd still be awaiting capital punishment. But as the Watchdog, O!Ciel pulls some strings. He would have tried VERY hard not to lose his aunt too.
As it is however, the enormous guilt about the death of his own aunt is what Sebas made O!Ciel suffer through slow and insidious manipulation. Sebas never gave O!Ciel the time to mourn his aunt, and instead pressured the boy into admitting that he âcallously sacrificed Madam as a pawnâ. He made him mentally TAKE the blame for the murder that Grell committed, and Sebas could have helped prevent.
As we can see in chapter 13, O!Ciel was desperately trying to externalise the blame, coming up with excuse after excuse, justification after justification. None however, works. Good seasoning skills, Sebas, amazing food-prep.
I am fairly certain that O!Ciel doesnât even realise how much heâs being emotionally manipulated by his butler throughout the years. This insight about emotional manipulation and psychological abuse is something that requires a level of abstract comprehension we cannot expect from most people, let alone a 13 year old child (however smart they may be.)
4. Conclusion
In conclusion, both Sebas and O!Ciel exist in this relationship rather amicably on surface level, but they are inherently toxic to each other. Sebas is continuously manipulating and emotionally abusing O!Ciel, while O!Ciel holds the absolute power to infringe all of Sebastianâs autonomy.
This â illustration by Yana is the perfect symbolisation of their bond.
We can attach adjectives like âf*cking toxicâ and âfascinatingâ to this relationship, but we canât find a category of inter-human relationship to fit O!Ciel and Sebastian into. In real life there are no children who can wield magical command to strip someone entirely of their autonomy. Likewise, there are very few adults who would not consider a child as âless-than-adultâ. Should we try to shoe-horn O!Ciel and Sebas into a human category, then we risk over-simplifying this relationship. Over-simplification of this relationship can be very harmful, because the subverted formula of âchild-master and adult-servantâ SEEMS to compensate for the inherent power imbalance.
Yana however, managed to write this relationship SO brilliantly complex, that Sebas will always remain the servant who is at O!Cielâs mercy, while O!Ciel suffers continuous mental abuse despite holding the ultimate ace card against a demon. This complex relationship is the ultimate evidence that even the most toxic relationships can look functional on surface level, and I love hating it!
I hope this helps give some insight!
#Kuroshitsuji#Black Butler#Sebastian Michaelis#Ciel Phantomhive#O!Ciel#Our!Ciel#Our Ciel#Relationship#relation#bond#master servant#NOT Sebaciel#Honestly ... the power dynamic is ALL off#Sebastian CAN'T consent#Character analysis#analysis#relationship analysis#THEY ARE SO TOXIC AND I LOVE IT
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Class Fight (p.1)
pairing: teen!dandy mott x teen!reader
word count: 3,303
warnings: language, jealous dandy, slightly au!dandy, all characters are 18
part 2Â part 3
1.
It was the first semester of your Senior year. The first month of school had flown by, and the Fall dance was just a few weeks away. Your small group of girlfriends was anxiously awaiting for their crushes to ask them.
You werenât particularly concerned with this. The dance fell on the one Saturday of the month where you had to accompany your mother to some stupid Tupperware party. It was the newest trend in American dining, and your mother needed you as her plus one. It wouldnât hurt to miss one dance⊠right?
Your best friends Winter and Zoe were excited, but they were devastated you couldnât come. You always went with them as a trio.
âAre you sure you couldnât cancel?â Winter asked while you washed your hands in the bathroom sink. The school day was over, and you planned on accompanying her to the diner for greasy food and to catch up on homework.
âI already promised her weeks ago,â you said, drying your hands. âThereâs still prom?â
Winter nodded in understanding, and you both knew it was the end of that discussion. Zoe came out of the stall, her face flushed and hair tied back. She looked clammy.
âYou alright in there?â Winter asked her as Zoe took a disposable cup and drank some water.
âKyle asked me to the dance!â Zoe replied breathlessly. You and Winter both congratulated her, and Winter asked why she looked so sick.
âI just got overwhelmed, you know? He came up and asked me right as I put my books away. I didnât think he was going too, he never brought it up before-.â
You followed them out as Zoe recanted the story of how Kyle asked her. The halls were mostly cleared now as kids scrambled to leave as soon as possible.
âYouâre riding with us, right?â Zoe then asked you, raising a neat eyebrow at you.
âYes, Dandy probably left already.â
The girls both smirked to themselves, but you ignored it. You were used to it by now.
The thing was, Dandy Mott was the best looking guy in school, in your opinion. You had never attended a public school in your life, but you knew those boys could never compare. Dandy was from the wealthiest family in your private district, and with his looks, girls were all over him.
However, he was quite the character.Â
Dandy didnât necessarily associate with a particular group of kids. He was reticent and didnât bother with any clubs, but he was quite attuned to the drama program. He was also known for his temper if things didnât go his way, but age matured him, mostly. You were one of the few people who he actually gave a damn about in life. You attributed that to knowing him before school. Your grandfather was a business partner with the Mott family, where your family name found their wealth, and how you two were friends.
You werenât bothered by the unwanted attention you got from girls attempting to weasel their way into your circle for the chance to talk to Dandy. Most of them gave up quickly, and that was that. Plus, you had Winter and Zoe as your protectors. They werenât afraid to kick a bitch in the vagina if they overstepped the clear boundaries you had set for yourself. Dandy trusted you, and you werenât about to fuck that up.
Plus, his mother, Gloria, was continually trying to set him up with girls in other parts of town.Â
You climbed into Zoeâs new car, buckling your seatbelt and glancing across the almost deserted parking lot. You spotted him instantly, sitting in his car and staring right back. You slowly raised your hand, giving him a wave. Dandy slowly reciprocated the action, and you swore you saw him smile.
You spent the evening with the girls, eating dinner and trying to explain the symbolism in the required reading in English. The football team had finished their practice and were crowding what few booths and tables were left. You tried to block out their raucous laughter, loudly asking Zoe to read your theory to see if it were plausible.Â
Winter had noticed the Quarterback, Jason, occasionally staring at you as he chewed his burger. Your back was to him, so you had no idea. She didnât say anything, instead watching him from the corner of her eye, figuring he wouldnât approach your table.Â
âI just think it only makes sense to me,â you told Zoe, scratching your head. âI canât concentrate with the boys screaming for no reason.â
âI think it makes perfect sense. You did misspell authority, thoughâŠâ
You laughed to yourself, glancing around the diner as Zoe fixed your spelling. You were so distracted, you misspelled simple words.Â
âWe should get ready and go, itâs getting stuffy in hereâŠâ Winter commented, closing her English book.Â
âJust a moment!â Zoe said excitedly, scribbling down in her own notebook now.
You had started gathering your things when both Zoe and Madison looked behind you, looking a mix of concern and amusement. You glanced behind you to see Jason Dean, smiling down at you. His dark hair covered his eyes, and he pushed it back.
You had no idea what to say. The last conversation you had with Jason was probably in fifth grade when he commented that women were weak while helping you carry boxes of school supplies, and you accidentally dropped a massive box of markers on his foot. He cried for an hour.Â
ây/n,â he addressed you. You glanced at your friends who were eagerly watching you with their faces hidden behind their textbooks. Winterâs was upside down.
âHi, Jason,â you responded, hearing the confusion in your voice. You listened to his friends giggling behind you, and you wondered if this was a joke.Â
âI havenât seen you in a minute,â he said cheekily, and you nodded. âYou look good.â
You quickly looked him up and down. Jason was muscular but not bulky, and he was definitely a whole foot taller than you. He grew into his facial features, and he was a handsome guy. You assumed he was just talking to you on a dare, so you finished putting your things in your bag. Zoe and Winter didnât budge, still pretending to read their books.
Jason realized you were dumbfounded at his statement. He quickly backtracked, âI just wanted to say hi. Iâll see you around.â
You bid him farewell, turning to your friends who were having a hard time concealing their laughter. You heard Jasonâs best friend, Matthew, call him an idiot and what sounded like a smack on the back.
ây/n, you have a boyfriend?â Zoe asked, smirking at you.
You glared, standing up as they shouldered their bags and grabbed their books. âYou know perfectly well I donât speak to him.â
âI bet he wants to ask you to the dance.â Winter grinned at Zoe, who nodded in agreement as you stepped into the cold autumn air.Â
âIâm not going either way.â you mumbled, and the girls dropped it until the next morning.Â
2.
You didnât think it was that big of a deal that the Quarterback tried to talk to you at the diner a few nights before. All the students who were present spread gossip like wildfire. You ignored it. You knew they were just children speculating what it could mean when it probably meant nothing.Â
Zoe and Winter never brought it up again, and you were relieved that your friends didnât dwell on it for too long. You loved that about them.Â
It was after lunchtime when you sat in your History course, going over the notes for the test. You heard Jason and a few of his friends pile in, laughing and making comments under their breath. They took their designated seats in the back, and you felt eyes on the back of your head.Â
A group of popular girls across the room started to giggle, and you glanced up to see Dandy walk in, his nose up and sauntering to the seat directly behind you. You wondered why he didnât acknowledge you, but you didnât dwell on it long. Dandy was often absent from any social interaction.Â
Your teacher began the class the moment the bell rang. She decided to go over the notes an extra day and postponed the test. You were mildly disappointed but knew the material well, so you decided to doodle in your journal. One of the girls in the front occasionally popped her gum.Â
Ms. Strode was talking about World War II when you felt something hit your elbow. You glanced over and saw a balled-up piece of paper. You glanced around to see most people were either frantically jotting down notes or not paying any attention. You picked it up, assuming it just needed to be passed ahead.
However, you read your name in neat cursive and opened it under the table.
Would you go to the dance with me? - Jason
You read the short invitation a good ten or so times before you could comprehend what he was asking. While the teacher wasnât looking, you peeked over your shoulder to see him staring at you. His buddies were hiding their own smiles, but you didnât see any malice behind it. Was he serious?
Of course, youâd have to decline. You already have an engagement. You promised your mother. You already declined the evening with your two best friends.
You didnât send a note back, knowing it would be too distracting trying to pass it. Dandy would never try to give a stupid message.
However, Dandy had been paying attention and had managed to read the note over your shoulder when you laid it on your pencil case. He became green with envy, closing the book he hadnât been paying attention too in the first place.
You hardly spoke a word to him this year. He wondered why that was. Dandy was very particular who he said too, and gave any sliver of his precious time. You were a comfort to him and probably didnât realize that. Dandy knew he couldnât seem desperate for your affection, or at the very least, your attention. He had hoped youâd be waiting for him in his car after school like the previous years before. Did he do something to upset you? Were you too good for him?
Dandy spent the rest of the class staring at the back of your head. He knew that wasnât the case. Perhaps it was his behavior that steered you away. Of course, he liked being friends with you, but maybe it wasnât enough. He was a loner who enjoyed his alone time. Dandy heard what people said about him. The general consensus was that he was doing everything right.Â
When the class was dismissed, he hung back, watching as you quickly gathered your things and paced out the door.Â
âTough blow, man!â he heard Matthew say.
âSheâll come around.â Jason replied, his tone snarky. Dandy watched as they walked out of the room, his brows furrowing as he debated on taking the high road and asking you to the stupid dance himself. He wouldnât go willingly. His mother, Gloria, needed him to be involved as much as possible. To keep up appearances, of course. Not for Dandyâs own goodwill.Â
Dandy trailed out of the class, seeing you across the hall at your locker. Winter was beside you, somehow talking and applying lipstick at the same time. He stood off to the side, not minding all the bodies bumping into him and temporarily panicking that heâd yell at them.
This is it, Dandy thought. Itâs a war, whether Jason Dean knew that or not.Â
3.
Jason approached you the following day and asked if youâd mind talking to him at lunch. You hesitantly agreed, catching Zoeâs eye as she hugged Kyle before going into her class. She smiled at you, and you gave her a hesitant one in return.Â
He definitely matured through the years. Jason was interested in you, and you felt comfortable talking to him through the entire lunch period, even catching yourself laughing at his sense of humor. Dandy played with the apple in his hands, glaring daggers at the back of Jasonâs messy head. Winter noticed from her spot at your usual table and nudged Zoe, gesturing for her to look.Â
âHe looks pissed.â Zoe giggled, and Winter nodded in agreement.Â
âI think Mott is going to kill him!â Winter said, stabbing at her steamed broccoli.
âShouldnât we let y/n know?â Zoe asked.
âI think sheâs about to figure it out.â Winter said as Dandy stood up, heading directly to the table where you were sitting with Jason. Zoe and Winter fell into a hush, shoving food into their mouth and intently watching what was about to unfold.Â
Jason saw him approaching first and paused, sizing the other guy up and down. Jason was bigger than Dandy in height and muscle tone from being an athlete, but Dandy wasnât lanky either. You turned around, shocked to find Dandy staring down at you.Â
ây/n,â Dandy nodded at you, ignoring Jason.
âDandy, hi!â you said, genuinely happy to see him. âHow are you?â
âIâm decent.â he said, smiling a little. âCould I have a word?âÂ
You glanced at Jason, who seemed timid, but he nodded. You stood up, promising Jason youâd be back as you followed Dandy out to the hallway. Multiple eyes followed you, and you heard the whispers starting as the door swung shut.Â
âHow are you?â Dandy asked now, looking down at you. His dark hair was neatly gelled and had a slight curl.Â
âIâve been good. I havenât heard from you in a whileâŠâ you said.
Dandy nodded, âI could say the same. I assumed youâd come back around soon enough.â
You felt he was hurt by your absence. Dandy looked bothered, and you felt terrible. However, he was capable of approaching you as well. Which is what he thought he had to do.Â
âIs everything okay?â you questioned, hoping his mother was doing well. You hadnât seen her all Summer.Â
ây/n, you know youâre one of the only people I care about in this stupid town,â Dandy said, glancing towards a teacher walking to the lounge. He gave you guys a questioning look but didnât comment, disappearing into the next room.Â
You werenât sure how to respond to that, so Dandy continued, âWhich is why I think you shouldnât go to the formal with Jason.â
You frowned, âHow do you know he asked me?â
âThe whole school knows!â Dandy retorted, and you remembered. âI think itâs a bad idea.â
âIt doesnât matter, Iâm not going either way.â
Dandy looked surprised, and you saw the relief in his eyes. He laughed a little, his fingers drumming against his leg. âOh.â
âWhat, are you jealous?â you asked, laughing at him. Dandy tried to hide his laughter, but it didnât work. The quiet hallway was filled with your giggles.
âThatâs for me to know and for you to find out.â Dandy said, and you were saddened to hear the bell ring. Dandy straightened up, the smile leaving his face as kids filed out of the cafeteria and the surrounding classrooms. Kids stared at you and whispered, many laughing and wondering if you were now a couple.Â
Jason slowly walked in your direction, but you didnât want to say goodbye to Dandy. You were ashamed that you had avoided him for so long. You missed him. Dandy glanced behind you, his eyes sharpening as your new suitor waited patiently, his hands in his beige jacket.Â
âBe careful around him.â Dandy whispered to you before he disappeared down the hall.
You approached Jason, who gave you a soft smile, âAm I missing something? Are you two together?â
You shook your head, a light smile on your lips, âNo. Weâre just friends.â
âOhâŠâ Jason nodded, âLook, I just wanted to say that Iâm sorry if I freaked you out the other day. We donât have to go to the dance together, but-.â
âOh!â you gasped. Jason frowned, giving you a quizzical look. âThe dance⊠I forgot,â you lied. âUhm, Iâm actually not going. I have other plansâŠâ you said.
Jason looked defeated but took the rejection gracefully. You promised youâd sit with him again tomorrow, and he visibly cheered up at that. You ended up having to sprint to your locker for your books after saying goodbye, but you couldnât stop thinking about Dandyâs warning.Â
âBe careful around him.â
The Friday before the dance went to complete shit.
That morning you ate your breakfast slowly, listening to your parents argue in the kitchen over a business deal your mother thought was a bad idea. Your father was greedy and looked towards the top dollar than what was best for the business and the family.Â
If that wasnât bad enough, Winter fell sick and couldnât go to school. You had to wait for your father to finish getting ready before he could drive you. You were ten minutes late and got a verbal warning; you never got in trouble at school. You had three tests in a row, and by lunch, you were about to rip your hair out.
Jason was nowhere to be found, so you sat with Zoe. She was worried that Winter would miss the dance but was happy that sheâd at least have Kyle if Winter canceled. Kyle came and sat with you guys, his shaggy blond hair wet from the downpour outside.Â
You were anxiously looking around the cafeteria for any sign of Dandy. He had missed a few days of school, citing a fever when you called his house and spoke to his maid, Dora. You wished him well and knew heâd pull through fast. Plus, you saw his car this morning when you got dropped off.Â
âTheyâre going to cancel the dance if more kids fall ill,â Kyle said as he ate a burger. Zoe glared at him, telling him to look on the bright side of things.Â
âWhat? I am!â Kyle replied, smirking at his new girlfriend.
âIâm sure they wonât cancel.â you placated Zoe, who beamed at you. âAll the parents who gave money will be pissed.â
You ate most of your lunch when the principal walked in. The room immediately quieted as he observed the tables before landing on you. He walked to you briskly, and you felt your heart racing as he approached.Â
Am I getting detention? Iâve only been late once!
âMs. y/l/n, could you come with me?â he asked politely, smiling at you, Zoe, and Kyle.
You nodded slowly, bunching up your trash and placing it on the tray. Zoe told you to leave it, and theyâd take care of it. You quietly thanked her and followed Principal Harmon out, struggling to keep pace with his long, thin legs.
âIs everything alright, sir?â you asked. Now wondering if your parents died in some fiery crash or if you failed a class.Â
âThereâs been a disturbance outside this afternoon,â Harmon replied, his voice grim. âWith Mr. Mott and Mr. Dean.â
You were shocked to hear this. You were silent during the rest of the trek to his office. When he opened the door, you saw both boys sitting in chairs. They both had packs of ice on their faces and sheepish expressions.
âWhat were you thinking?â you hissed to them as Mr. Harmon gestured for you to take the empty seat next to Dandy.
âWell, now that y/n is here, I think you both owe her an explanation and an apology.âÂ
Jason and Dandy shared a look. Dandy now looked pissed, and you could only imagine what lead to this.Â
Oh, I have a pretty good fucking idea.
#dandy mott#dandy mott x reader#ahs imagine#dandy mott imagine#ahs freak show#winter anderson#zoe benson#american horror story
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Ducklings & Dimples 2
Original / Sequel
â Words: 17.1k
â Genres: 58% Fluff, 20% Adventure, 20% Action, 2% Angst, Historical!AU - kind of
â Summary: After your adventures with Yoongi, you head home to face your family and the duties you've run from. A year has passed since. But you never anticipated meeting him again with his fiancĂ©e.

The country of Pegan is one youâve never had the opportunity to venture into. It was a place that you teetered on, scaling the border, poking your head into one or two of the small villages just to sell in before you were on your way. But you had heard lots about it in his letters. You just never thought you would be visiting it in such a way. Ten round towers form a protective barrier around the elegant castle and are connected by firm walls made of gray stone. Refined windows are scattered generously across the walls in an asymmetric pattern. Beyond the gates are well kept gardens with fragrant flowers, gorgeous trees and many bushes that decorate the outside of the castle. The castle itself has clearly been around for at least a thousand years, but it doesn't seem like it will collapse any time soon. âBack straight. Youâre slouching, Taehyung,â your mother barks to your youngest brother and sharply inhales when Jin purposely bumps into him with his broad shoulders, telltale signs heâs trying to instigate more bickering. âStop that right now, young man. Youâre supposed to set an example as the eldest.â âI wasnât even doing anything!â Jin protests to no avail. Taehyungâs mouth curls as he jumps on the opportunity to berate his older brother, âYouâre twenty six. You should act like it.â Seokjinâs mouth drops open. âHow dare you bring my age into this.â âCan you guys please shut your mouths for one second?â Lia is exasperated and glares. âPeople are staring at us.â âNow, now, children.â Your dad clears his throat and brushes off his shoulders. âLetâs not give your mother a hard time and argue in front of the Duchessâ castle.â Your mother holds in her sigh temporarily and makes it to your sister, smoothing out her dress thatâs been wrinkled from the carriage ride. âHair in place, darling.â Then she makes it to the end of the line and looks at you. Your eyes meet hers and you anticipate nagging. Perhaps an insult of how strands of hair have fallen from your updo and around your eyes. Or how you should get rid of that frown off your face before she singes it off. But to your surprise, your mother merely smiles and swivels around. âShall we enter?â Sheâs trying â you can see it and itâs an effort you appreciate. Your entire family climbs the marble steps leading up to the grand doors already open with folks filtering inside. It was the Duchess of Peganâs birthday, a week long affair and evidently, a huge celebration. Much too extravagant for your own tastes, but itâs not like your opinion matters. âKaela, Elden!â The man in the foyer comes over with a golden chalice and his wife trails after him. Immediately, your mother curtsies along with your sister and you dip down after a delayed second, momentarily forgetting the manners drilled into your brain. âDuke and Duchess Fesan. Itâs a pleasure.â âOh please, donât be a stranger. Itâs been too long!â The older man has silver, short hair that almost fully covers his thin, lived-in face. But his eyes are fond as if he has seen many good things in his lifetime. Fesan Winsor is a duke, brother to the king that runs Pegan. You only know such facts after the relentless history lessons with your overbearing tutor. He gives a light embrace to your mother and father, nods his head towards you and Lia, and shakes Seokjinâs hand. âWhy, youâve grown to be such a strapping, young man. Handsome, indeed. The last Iâve seen of you, you were but a wee boy.â âThank you.â Jin practically beams over the praise and you and Taehyung roll your eyes. âAre you looking to get married any time soon?â His irises sparkle. âDo you have someone in mind, your grace?â The Duke barks out laughing at the witty quip and your mother audibly sighs. âSeokjinâs much too deep in finishing his studies to be considering marriage, unfortunately. And a bit too immature to handle the responsibilities of such a thing.â âOh you never know about children,â Duchess Jacquelyn laughs boisterously. âThey always grow up faster than we realize.â The Duchess is in a lavish dress that looks like itâs about to swallow her whole, flashy to the maximum and heavy diamonds are wrapped around her neck. It makes you wonder if it aches. Her golden hair is stark with a bit of gray, yet she is bright eyed and overly friendly as she squeezes the living daylights out of Lia and then you. Itâs unusual how she has no respect for personal boundaries or whatâs mannerly for a high-class lady that she is. Thereâs small talk made between your father and the Duke, but as the Duchess pulls away from you, her face lights up as if she recalls something. âWait a moment! You are Y/N, correct?â âUh, yes. I am, madam.â âThen you were the one who defeated that vicious dragon from the North with Yoongi, werenât you?! Why your tale of bravery is infamous!â She grasps your hands with an excited smile. You swallow hard, not sure how you feel about being viewed as a hero when youâre not. But you donât say anything for fear of having to explain. Itâs not like you told your own family the true story. âYes, what an amazing feat,â Duke Winsor marvels. âYou must be very prideful to have such a hero in the family.â Your mother is visibly pleased while your dad plops a hand on your shoulder. âY/N is indeed turning out to be the best sorcerer in our family.â âYou would be too if you studied more,â Taehyung mutters to Lia and nudges her while she glares at him. âWhat about you, Mr. Iâm-too-tired-to-practice-magic.â âChildren,â your motherâs voice is full of scolding but a pleasant smile is placed on her features. Itâs frightening and jarring how different her expression can be from what comes out of her mouth. âOh, you must be so eager to see your old friend.â The Duchess turns over her shoulder. âYoongi was here just a moment ago.â You nod stiffly, tight-lipped. âIâll make sure to send my greetings to him later.â The middle-aged folks continue talking as you and the rest of your siblings stand there like stone statues that are decorating the castle. But as you look around the crowds, fearing the worst, you feel Jin poke you. âWas that the guy you were sending letters to every day?â he asks, referring to what Duchess Jacquelyn said. âShut it.â Taehyung raises his brows with an amused smile, but no one speaks. Itâs become a sensitive topic but always has been â youâve never let any of them see your letters and you threw a big fuss on several occasions when Lia tried to sneak peaks. Now you regret it. Why did you spend so much time doing such petty, futile things. Eventually, youâre granted mercy when the Duke and Duchess continue welcoming new arrivals and everyone disperses for drinks. And unlike what they said, youâre not eager to see your old âfriendâ at all. Youâre trying to steer clear of him. âWhat are you doing standing here in the corner?â Your mother finds you reclusive with a flute of ale. Itâs not the most sophisticated drink, but does enough to put you more at ease. Though, much to your dismay, she pries the glass out of your grip. âYou should be socializing! Making connections. Like your brother!â She turns and you see Taehyung by the refreshment table with a younger girl who looks visibly uncomfortable. He barks out in deafening laughter, startling a few other guests and your mother sighs while you hold back a smile. âMaybe not quite like him.â âIs there something you want to say, mom?â Itâs not like her to be so vague and to encourage you to talk to others. Sheâs always been apprehensive about you mingling, assuming youâre trying to scam them â which you usually are, so her caution isnât unreasonable. âThereâs a divine soul sorcerer,â she announces and instantly, you groan. âOf course there is.â âDonât give me that look. You havenât even spoken to him yet.â Unlike how you receive your magic from a legendary phoenix, divine soul sorcerers are blessed individuals who have a connection to divine beings. Whether they align with an ancient prophecy or their ancestor is an angel. Theyâre undoubtedly someone who could match the status of your family. Youâre starting to suspect the reason your mother even came all the way over here was to get you to meet him. âFine, Iâll talk to him,â you say, just to get her off your back. Your motherâs wrinkles crease when she smiles. âGood to hear. Now thatâs one less issue off my plateâ â âI think Taehyungâs trying to impress that girl,â you interrupt, tilting your body over to the youngest whoâs about to set the tablecloth on fire. Your mother practically swears underneath her breath and goes marching over without bidding you farewell. Thereâs a faint smile on your features and as a Halfling waiter passes, you grab a glass of manycherries wine. You release a long exhale, feeling your eyes bags deepen as exhaustion sets into you. Your eyes flicker to the fire roaring underneath the mantle. The rose and orange flames glow against your cheeks. Your fingers. And incidentally, it grows stronger. You feel the fire envelop you. The chatter of the room simmers down as you focus on the crackle and pop of the inferno. But unfortunately, it doesnât last long. Not with the shrill voices close to youâ âItâs a surprise, no? Even the Dukeâs fiftieth birthday wasnât as extravagant as this. All five houses are here and they even extended the invitations to families beyond Pegan.â âWell perhaps they had a good season or maybe one of the houses expanded their territory and we just havenât heard about it yet. The Duke and Duchess looks after the entire territory and all the faction houses. Itâs only natural they benefit from any changes, right?â âDonât you two know?â âKnow what?â âThe reason this celebration is lavishâŠ.is because itâs practically an engagement party in disguise.â You exhale out of your nose, downing the glass of wine and when you finish, you see a familiar face in the midst. Itâs a slender half-Elf with long blonde hair thatâs half tied up and reaches to his ribs. Yorril. You remember his name after beating his ass with Yoongi in Bogsburrough a year ago. The memory causes the corner of your mouth to tug in a smirk. He sees you too and immediately turns away, walking off with his eyes wide. There are lots of people from different factions here, but you donât know any of their names and donât care to. Though out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a tall man in a white cape fluttering behind with his eyes focused right on you â undoubtedly the divine sorcerer your mother was referring to by his blinding aura â and you take Yorrilâs inspiration and walk away as well. You drop your glass on a nearby table and zip into the dark hallway without looking back. Youâre not sure where youâre going, merely winding down the corridors. But eventually your steps slow. Goosebumps raise all over the back of your arm. It feels like youâre being watched. Like thereâs someone creeping. That thereâs a presence behind you. But before you can turn around to discern what it is, a husky timbre makes you halt. â...alright?â At once your body seizes, freezing in its stop. Your blood runs warmer and your back meets the stone wall. Thereâs a sliver of light coming from the parted door inches away and you pull your orb out from the secret pocket you sewn into your dress. Gripping the object, you channel your magic and cast clairvoyance. The hearing sensor is placed behind the door. âThank you, Yoongi.â Itâs an unfamiliar soft-spoken voice. You hear his hum. âYouâre welcome.â âIâm sorry. I know thereâs a lot of people out there. I didnât think my mother would invite so many people. Itâs usually not like her to do this andââ âHey, itâs okay. You donât need to apologize. I donât mind as much as you think I do.â âReally?â âI canât say I enjoy it, but itâs not so bad every so often.â You swallow hard, feeling your heart clog your throat. Though before you can hear another thing, a hand plops down on your shoulder. And you nearly shriek in surprise. Out of all people, you turn to find dad wearing a mischievous smile that Taehyung and Seokjin inherited, and he nudges his chin to the door. âYour mother wouldnât like you eavesdropping, you know. Come on, letâs go back.â You nod, following after him. The two of you return to the main room and step out into the terrace, away from the crowd. âThereâs plenty of other men out there, Y/N.â âI know,â you mutter without looking at him, unable to help sulking. The older man smiles, having an inkling of why youâve been so quiet. âItâs okay for you to be upset. Everythingâs a process of trial and error. And itâs something thatâll come and go in due time.â You sigh lightly, trying to muster a smile that never really comes. âYou want me to meet that divine soul sorcerer like mom, donât you?â âHeavens no.â Your dad pats you on the back as you look out into the gardens. âI just want the best for my daughter.â You meet his eye and he grins. Itâs moments like these that youâre glad you came home. âElden!â The pair of you turn around as an older woman with cat-like eyes and a piercing stare steps out onto the terrace, her slender black dress sparkling like the stars. âMy goodness, itâs been ages!â âHyoyeon.â Your dad gives a laugh. âYou havenât aged a day!â They come to an embrace and she pulls away. âOh, youâre too kind. Have you met my son yet?â Your worst nightmare emerges. Yoongi is dressed in a black tunic, pants, boots and a black velvet cape draped over his left side. He looks less like a knight on a quest and more like a prince. But one thing that hasnât changed is his duckling-like hair. Strands of pale yellow that stand out. His eyes immediately center on you in surprise. As if he wasnât expecting you here. And of course he wasnât. You hated functions and celebrations like these, but once you heard the rumours, you couldnât help but beg to come. Or maybe heâs giving you that expression because of how odd you look. You suppose heâs never seen you in anything other than braids and that peasant dress that you used to disguise yourself in. Now, your mother wouldnât catch you dead in attire like that. But with him comes the Dukeâs daughter, Fesan Klarinda, the Marquise of Pegan. Sheâs petite with spiral curls and dimples dotted in each side of her cheek. Sheâs the epitome of delicate. Instantly, the girl looks between you and Yoongi, realizing that your gazes are locked into one anotherâs. âY/N.â He breathes it out and something swells inside your throat to hear him call your name. Itâs hard to keep your face blank and impassive. Yoongiâs mother glances at him and then you. âYou know each other?â âShe was my partner during my adventure.â âShe helped you defeat the dragon? Y/N from the great Phoenix family?â his mother gasps and nudges him. With her teeth gritted, she mutters, âWhy didnât you tell me that? Had I knownâŠ.â Your dadâs laugh cuts through the suffocating tension. âSuch a small world indeed. But Iâm glad to finally meet the man who protected my daughter. Congratulations on your engagement, son.â âItâs nice to meet you,â Yoongiâs fiancĂ©e says with a demure smile and you give a curtsy without uttering a word. âIs your eldest son here, Hyoyeon?â âOh, Hoseok unfortunately couldnât make it to the occasion. Heâs busy studying arcane magic in a monk temple in Baldur's Gate. So I only have my youngest with me today.â âNot at all! Education is of the utmost priority for the children.â While they speak, Klarinda clears her throat. âThere must be a lot to catch up on since you and Yoongi are fairly close, I heard.â âYes, he is a great friend to me, my lady.â Yoongiâs eye twitches, but you pay no mind. You donât speak a single word to him and while itâs terribly awkward, you seize the opportunity to leave. âI find myself a bit parched. If you'll excuse me.â You get away as quickly as you can while grabbing fistfuls of your heavy dress, feeling more strands falling out of your updo. But being out of his presence doesnât mean youâve escaped. You feel the weight of Yoongiâs intent gaze on you all night, from across the room to the table. Youâre barely able to survive dinner and the foodâs not at all charred enough to your tastes. Youâre beginning to regret coming here. Even when you knew you had to see it for yourself. âExcuse me. I believe you are Lady Y/N, right?â After dinner, the divine soul sorcerer finally corners you at a moment when your guard is down, having been too focused on Yoongi. The man has silver hair neatly coiffured, but the colour isnât from age nor is it lackluster. It matches his cape and white attire. Undoubtedly, the sorcerer has an otherworldly appearance. Heâs handsome and practically radiant to that of an angelâs. And he draws attention, causing girls to turn their heads and swoon for him. You can only imagine his power and itâs no wonder your mother has insisted that you meet him. But you are far from being impressed. âYou are?â âAllow me to introduce myself! I am Jinha, a favoured soul sorcerer. Son of the magnificent Concordia House here in Pegan. My ancestor was the chosen one of the Goddess Mystra.â His palm opens and he glances at your hand. But you donât entertain the idea of him kissing your knuckles, so he retracts his arm after an awkward moment. He clears his throat. âYou look absolutely ravishing. The most beautiful person at this party aside from myself of course,â he quips. You deadpan, âThanks.â âAre you enjoying the party?â Hardly. âI am.â âHave you tried any of the crab-stuffed lobster tail yetâ?â âI much prefer the wine.â You grab a glass from the tray of a stubby butler passing by and you down half of it. When you lower the glass, you find that heâs still there, smirking like an idiot. While this relationship would be textbook perfect, you hate sorcerers. You are one, have three siblings that are, spent your childhood surrounded by them. So you know best how arrogant and entitled sorcerers can be. You bet he spends his free time looking in the mirror. Plus, thereâs already enough magic in you for two people. âI happened to speak to your mother earlier, Lady Y/N.â âDid you?â âShe said youâve been traveling before. I have been traveling across the lands myself, so we have quite a bit in common.â âYes,â you answer in a monotone and then your eyes light up as you spin around on your heel to him. âActually, she mightâve not told you but I run a business.â âA business?â âIâm a business woman. Itâs gotten a bit pushed to the side since Iâve gotten home, but maybe I should start it back up again.â âWhat kind of business is it?â Jinha stands straighter as if to show how capable he is. âI would love to help.â âWould you?â A feigned coy smile comes across your face and you lean in to graze his shoulder. âI have quite a bit of valuables collected and a lot of ancient potions I sell. All from my travels. Youâre actually very fortunate since I have one with me. Would you like to buy one? Iâll be willing to give it to you at a reduced price of ten gold pieces.â Since the first time youâve arrived, you feel energy return to you. But then much to your dismay, the damned sorcerer apologizesâ âI donât actually have any gold on me right now.â âHow about your ring.â You point downward, never breaking eye contact. âThis is once in a lifetime opportunity.â Either your skills are rusty or heâs denser than a rock because your persuasions donât get through. âI would never dare to give you such a worthless ring, Lady Y/N! With so many shiny valuables practically overflowing out of the hundreds of rooms at my enormous manor, you deserve something much more precious. Perhaps we could arrange a time when you could come visit my massive estate.â You audible sigh, not even trying to hide it. For the next ten minutes, the sorcerer bores you with speech about himself, his family, how he personally knows the Duke, how heâs expanding his manor to have two more gardens and five more fountains, and how delicious the crab-stuffed lobster tail is. You barely manage to escape, simply excusing yourself to find your sister. But as you turn the corner, away from prying eyes and ears, you grip your orb in your pocket and channel your arcane magic. You cast disguise self and at once, you take the form of the stubby butler from earlier. A foot shorter, larger, and white tailcoat with black breeches. Your empty glass even turns into a tray and you strut down the corridor with your head held high. Youâre going to leave. Out the front door. Never to return. Coming here was a mistake â and confronting Yoongi isnât something you think you have in you. Youâre better suited to having no real relationships, no commitment, no attachments. Merely traveling around and scamming others is what you do best. After all, things were easier back then when you had no direction. There was less emotional turmoil. Fewer obligations. Fewer consequences. But regrets are a little too late, so in the heat of the moment, you throw away your hard-earned compromise with your mother and decide to run. Yet, before you can even think of launching yourself out the open arched window, your eyes grow wide at the man at the end of the hall. Yellow strands of hair catch your attention first. Then itâs the sleepy eyes. The tender features. Immediately, you pull your gaze away from him and stare ahead. Itâs not too hard to make yourself unsuspicious when youâre disguised as a butler and Yoongi seems to pay no mind to you either. He merely walks past and you breathe a sigh of relief. But then strong arms wrap around your waist and your back meets a firm chest. The spell breaks. He saw right through you. Right through your illusion. Yoongiâs soft exhale causes goosebumps to rise all over your arms. âThank god, itâs you. I was worried that it was really the butler.â His timbre is huskier than you remember. You stumble out of his embrace and turn around. âI apologize, sir. I wasnât trying to create any trouble. â âSir?â Yoongiâs brows furrow, deep enough that it looks like it hurts. Neither of you say anything for a long moment as he stares at you and you divert your vision, preferring to admire how smooth the white pillars of the castle look. Then, his hand suddenly reaches out to graze the loose strands of hair that have fallen from your updo. Itâs a gentle gesture and he quietly comments, âYour hairâs gotten longer.â But you donât react. âHow have you been?â he asks faintly. âFine.â You keep your reply curt and short. Distant. âCongratulations on your engagement, sir.â âY/N.â He sounds annoyed. âLet me explainââ But when you finally meet his gaze, your eyes are painfully stinging and his voice tapers off. You curse underneath your breath, having tried so hard to keep yourself together. Yet the effort to prevent humiliation is being swept down the drain, so you grab fistfuls of your dress and march away. âY/N!â Yoongi doesnât chase after you. You snivel violently, doing all you can to not let tears shed. You fail to watch where youâre going and you run into your older sister. âWhere have youâŠ..are you okay?â Lia looks down at you, her eyes wide at your state. You merely shake your head and her lips pout as she pulls you in. She doesnât need to ask. âItâs okay. There, there. No oneâs going to hurt you.â Sheâs wrong. Youâve already been hurt. // Min Yoongi is a bastard. Youâve sorely underestimated his abilities. He manipulates emotions better than you can, but youâre more so angry at yourself for misinterpreting memories. For allowing your imagination to take its course. After all, itâs easier to transform your hurt into anger than reveling in sorrow. Youâve never been the type to be passive. The morning after the banquet, there are tournaments out on the East field. Youâre seated at the rows near the Duke and Duchess with the rest of your family. Taehyung is watching intently while Seokjin prefers to wave to girls seated a few seats down much to your motherâs dismay. Youâre sitting beside Lia who has her parasol to shield the sun away and is fanning herself to keep sweat from her face. She hasnât teased you about last night, not when it looked serious enough. But she hasnât pried either, even though you know eventually she will. Curiosity has always been a fault in your family â second to recklessness. You watch as two men below fight, one with a bow and the other with a mace. You donât recognize them, merely knowing theyâre from different factions. And that they seem to be taking their hatred out on each other. âOoh.â Taehyung sharply inhales when the Elf with the mace slashes the Half-Elf holding the bow. âThat looks like it hurts.â The Half-Elf surrenders and the Halfling referee calls an end to the match. âItâs so hot out,â Lia pants and wipes her forehead with a handkerchief. âSince when did you care about sweating or not?â you ask, lolling your head to the side. She clicks her tongue. âTch. Donât you know how many potential suitors are here? I have to look my best. You should too.â âCan I leave?â you ask your mother, tilting yourself to her. Seokjin whirls his head around. âI second that.â âAbsolutely not,â she hisses and glances over her shoulder, making sure that the Duke and Duchess arenât listening. âWe are honoured guests and it would be very rude.â âAt least wait until the intermission,â your father adds with a charming smile. With that said, you sit back and try to get comfortable. From below, the Halfling referee steps up to his podium and announces through a cone, âFor our next match, on the right is Jinha, divine sorcerer from the House of Concordia. And to our left is Yoongi, knight fighter from the House of Min and the Order of the Black Sun!â Your breath hitches in your throat. Immediately, Lia nudges you. âWhoâs that?â Her eyes are pinpointed to the obnoxious man from last night who emerges while sweeping his hair back, his golden staff carried in his grasps. But youâre preoccupied with the other man. Someone with pastel yellow hair. Even from far away, itâs all too stark against his heavy armour. And you swear heâs looking right at you. Or maybe not. It could be for his fiancĂ©e whoâs diagonal to where you are. That would make more sense. You damn yourself for being delusional again. âSo thatâs him?â Taehyung turns to you, asking, âThe one you sent letters to?â âI never did such a thing,â you mutter. The Halfling shouts at the top of his lungs and the match begins. Yoongi grips his rapier in his hands and closes the distance. He hits twice, slamming down the blade onto Jinha with narrowed eyes and then surges forward for a critical hit. His accuracy and precision has become more refined since the last time you saw him fight. Yet, Jinha never bumbles or falls to his knees in spite of the brutality. He tightens his grip on his staff, jaw clamping down. He casts burning hands. His fingers spread and a thin sheet of flames shoots forth from his outstretched fingertips. It causes Yoongi to stumble back and the sorcerer turns his head, flashing a bright grin towards the rows, undoubtedly for you. But you arenât fazed â not when youâre at the edge of your seat, gaze placed on Yoongi. Lia, on the other hand, is the one whoâs impressed. Her jaw draws open, a soft gasp befalling her lips as she covers her mouth with a gloved hand. Across the field, your eyes lock into Yoongiâs. And then heâs moving again, blade slashing thrice. Jinha surrenders. âI should challenge you!â Taehyung suddenly breaks both you and Liaâs trance with his loud and startling voice, looking directly at Seokjin with a rectangular grin. âDo you want to fight?â âActually, that doesnât sound like a bad idea.â A wide smile spreads into your older brotherâs face. âDo you think you could take me on?â Taehyungâs already rolling up his sleeves. âYouâre just going to have to wait and sââ Your mother immediately pulls him down with the force of gravity itself. Her eyes pierce into your siblings. âAbsolutely not! I wonât have any of my children fighting and hurting themselves!â The Halfling referee turns. âDoes anyone want to challenge the victor of this matââ You stand. âI do!â Your mother is absolutely mortified. Your father is taken aback. Taehyung is already smiling with a murmured âawesomeâ while both Seokjin and Lia are visibly amused. Thereâs little your parents can do too when the Duchess starts clapping and hollering for you to enter the field and the Duke wishes you luck, citing that heâs excited to see the true capabilities of your household. âFor our next match on the right is Y/N, phoenix sorcerer from the Kim Phoenix Household. And to our left is Yoongi, knight fighter from the House of Min and the Order of the Black Sun!â From the distance, no one can hear the two of you. No one can discern the way Yoongiâs looking at you. How heâs deflated, sword drooping by his side, his form not at all ready. âIâm not going to fight you,â Yoongi declares with the furrow of his brows. You scoff. âThen youâre weak.â Gripping your spellcasting focus, your blazing red and orange swirling orb, you channel your magic and cast fireball. A bright streak flashes from your pointing finger towards him, blossoming with a low roar into an explosion of flames. But it misses when he nimbly dodges out of the range. The spectators cheer, on the edge of their seats. Yoongi, realizing that youâre not conceding, moves towards you. He grips his rapier and hits twice, bringing his blade down to slash. You sharply inhale, but keep your feet rooted into the ground and as he raises his arm for the third time, it slips. The weapon falls to the ground. âPick it up,â you spit at him in Elvish, straightening out your spine again. Gasping, you cast Melfâs Minute Meteors and six tiny meteors manifest. They float in the air and orbit you until you send both of them towards him. It misses, exploding on the ground instead. Yoongi grabs his sword, but when he hits you, itâs weak. It barely skims you. Doesnât even break through skin. And he drops his rapier again. âKeep going! Donât stop!â This time, the shout isnât coming from you but from Duchess Jacquelyn whoâs crazed as she grips the banister and cackles maniacally. The Duke stares at her in discomfort at how wrapped up she is and Yoongiâs fiancĂ©e, Klarinda, shakes her head. âMom.â You have no plans of surrendering. Even if you drop dead here. You cast fireball again and this time, the blossoming roar of the flames consumes Yoongi. You hear him cry out in agony and you send two meteors orbiting you his way. One misses, but the other one explodes on his chest. Yoongiâs teeth clenches. His knuckles turn white. But before he surges forward with his rapier, the smoke dissipates and he sees you. Tears in your eyes. The trembling of your bottom lip. The quivering of your entire frame. And no one hears when you softly curse himâ âBastard.â Yoongi drops his sword into the dirt. âI forfeit.â At once, Klarinda races down the rows, grabbing fistfuls of her dress. âExcuse me, pardon me!â She races down the field undignified, but to resume to her fiancĂ©âs side. She searches his expression. âA-Are you alright, Yoongi? I can heal you.â She casts cure wounds and presses her palms to his pectorals over his armour. And after she does so, she looks between you and Yoongi. But by that time, youâve long grabbed your own dress and marched off the field, leaving the two lovers behind. At the exact same moment, a ghostly presence fades from the open arched window on the fourth floor, their eyes having been pinpointed on your figure for the entirety of the match. // Thereâs someone watching you. You can tell with the way goosebumps raise all over the back of your arm, hairs on the back of your neck lifted, how thereâs a sudden weight of someoneâs stare on your shoulders. It feels like thereâs someone creeping, a presence behind you. Your heel pivots. âYoonââ But it isnât him or any of your siblings. A translucent force tries to push itself into your body, causing your words to choke in your throat, your weakened knees to stumble back. Your lungs wither and your throat dries as the remaining air inside you wheezes out. But you resist. With all the strength left inside of you. You use your remaining energy to prevent the force from taking control, from entering and intruding. And in the next moment, it slips out and flounders in front of you. What would be a terrified shriek ends up as coughs as you gasp for air. âW-What in the holy fuckââ Itâs a ghost. A chubby man in white sleeping silks, his dark hair brushing against his shoulders, but his form translucent and feet floating inches off the cobblestone hall. Your seething fire running through your blood flares. It seeps out and magically wreathes around you as your eyes glow as hot coals. You lift your finger to him, threatening to attack and he steps back. âHold on there! Donât be hasty!â the ghost spits in panic. âI sincerely apologize for my blunder!â âWho are you?! What were you trying to do to me?!â âMy name is Leo and I just wanted to borrow your body for a bit! You see...I have some unfinished business.â Thereâs an extended silence. Then you lower your arm and the fire drawn back into you. Your stare is unwavering and Leo musters a smile on his thin lips, wrinkles around his eyes creasing. âIn hindsight, I should have asked. I apologize for intruding.â You scoff, guard still up. âWhatâs your unfinished business?â âAh, I would like to see the sunrise one last time.â The ghost turns to glance out the window. âSomeone once tried to banish me away, so now Iâm in a quite unstable form. I am only able to venture in this realm when it is day or night when time itself is stable. I disappear every time there is a sunset or sunrise.â Your brow lifts. âSo youâve been haunting this castle?â âWell, I canât leave if I have unfinished business.â Leo smiles at you, eyes almost hopeful. âWhoever tried to banish you shouldâve done it properly,â you deadpan. Getting rid of this ghost could be your birthday present to the Duchess. âI donât know the banishment spell unfortunately. But my older brother does.â You start to march down the hall, but the ghost follows after you frantically. âPlease donât banish me! I beg of you! Please!â Itâs an opportunity and you seize it. Your feet halt and you twist to him with a smirk growing. âThen what will you offer me?â âOffer you?â âAs payment.â Your arms cross. âWe can strike a fair deal. If you want to borrow my body, Iâll let you. But only if you can give me gold.â The ghost bursts out in hearty laughter that streams from his chest. âI donât have anything to my name anymore, dear sorcerer. Certainly not gold. Iâm dead!â Your face morphs into impassivity, lips drawn into a tight line. âThen Iâm afraid I canât help you.â Yet, he still follows relentlessly, floating to your left and to your side, eyes plastered onto your profile. âOh, but canât you offer me even half a day out of the kindness of thy own heart? Surely you must feel pity for a ghost like me thatâs forced to wander this castle with no end. I will leave when my business is complete, that I can assure.â âWhy donât you go bother someone else?â âBut you are special.â At that, your steps slow and he smiles again. âYou know magic well and it reminds me of a certain someone.â âWho?â He hums and frowns. âI canât seem to remember.â You scoff. After years of your business, of persuasion and deception, you can tell heâs not being entirely truthful. But before you can press on and coax the ghostâs true intentions out, thereâs a noisy interruption. âY/N!â Taehyung approaches with his mouth lopsided. âWho are you talking to?â You turn to your side, but the middle-aged ghost has vanished in thin air. âIt was a ghost.â âWhat?â He looks at you as if youâve gone crazy and maybe you have. âThere arenât ghosts here. Are you okay?â âIâm fine.â âI came to tell you that momâs looking for you.â At your exaggerated sigh, Taehyung grins. âTrust me, itâs a lot worse than what you think.â Heâs right. Your motherâs caught wind that a few youngsters are going boating and of course, she has to push her children into the private affair. Youâre largely unamused, not a fan of being stuck in large bodies of water, even if itâs just a lake. âYou have to go.â The moment she sharply enunciates the word, she pulls on the strings on your back laced bodice with all her might and you choke on air. âHow else are you going to get married?â She doesnât see you roll your eyes in the mirror. âMy plan isnât to get married.â âWell you never know what might happen. Keep an open mind.â Somehow, she thinks marriage will quell her troublesome daughters, especially you. But you canât blame her for holding such an idea. At this point, sheâs trying everything she can. âItâs time to be a little more ladylike after the whole tournament fiasco.â In the meanwhile, Lia is sitting in the corner, amused. She has a frilly, puffed up skirt of her own, a shade of light pink and on top of her head, a giant hat with flowers. Sheâs always been the prettier one. But as you turn to the mirror in your own blue summer dress your motherâs putting you in, you find that you arenât half bad. Your mother knows you tend to get yourself dirty and that you donât particularly enjoy being dressed up, so your attire is much less obnoxious and more subtle. Itâs proof sheâs thought about you. Eventually, your eyes drift off of your reflection to the flames dancing in the fireplace. You stare at the crimson light it gives, the way the subtle smoke that rises from it, curling towards the chimney. âThere we are.â Your mother secures the last pins in your hair and smooths out your skirt. âNot too shabby, darling,â she says with a smile as if satisfied from her own work. You wonder whatâs the point of trying. Itâs not like anyone will be enamoured with you. The person who matters the most after all has already been taken. âYou look absolutely beautiful this fine afternoon, Lady Y/N.â Your trance shatters and you look at the man blankly. âJinha.â âDare I say, you may be more lovely than you were last night!â He grins and you answer him in silence. You allow the noise of the surroundings to respond instead â the cawing of the birds, the sloshing of the water on the edge of the grass, your brothers laughing as the boats bump into the pier. The only mercy given to him is when Lia quite literally bumps into you and clears her throat loudly. âAhem. Hello. I donât believe weâve met before.â The sorcererâs smile widens. âExcuse me, but you are?â âI am Lia, Y/Nâs older sister. But Iâm not that much older. Only by two years. Iâm turning twenty four.â Youâve never seen Lia flounder so much. Itâs amusing to behold. âOh, I knew Y/N had a sister, but I wouldâve thought you were the younger sister,â Jinha says smoothly and her expression lights up even further. He takes her hand, placing a kiss upon her knuckles and youâre glad sheâs taken his attention. Heaven knows you arenât interested. But as youâre about to walk away, your line of sight falls to a familiar girl with dimples. Klarinda, the Dukeâs daughter, is wearing a brimmed hat and her expensive silk skirt flutters with her. If sheâs here then whereâsâ Yoongiâs staring right at you. As if heâs a predator and youâre merely the prey. Immediately, you return to Lia being overly flirtatious with Jinha. Itâs bearable for a few minutes until you join your brothers who are horsing around and threatening to push one another into the lake. But out of the corner of your eye, you watch Yoongi and look away when your eyes meet. You know heâs watching you too. You try your best to stay focused on your surroundings. The strangers around were from different families and factions, civil with each other when theyâre on the Dukeâs grounds. At most, they send glares to their enemies. So you allow the polite, peaceful chatter to engulf you before everyone slowly gets onto the boats to row out and enjoy the lake. âFinally!â Taehyung suddenly twists around, holding a rope in hand. âI got it untied!â Jin facepalms himself. âYou idiot! Youâre supposed to untie the rope after everyoneâs gotten in!â âWhat?â âNot to worry!â Jinha announces with a grin and nimbly hops inside the boat before it drifts too far off the pier. He holds out his hand for Lia and she gladly takes it with a giggle, being guided in. You watch at a loss for words as the boat gets farther and farther. Still, the divine sorcerer boldly holds out his hand for you. âLady Y/N!â You hesitate. The boat is already full with four people and youâre not sure if itâs worth jumping in and potentially getting pulled into the lake. But suddenly, before you can make a decision, your waist is pulled back by strong arms. âItâs okay. She can come with me. Thereâs one left.â âYoongi!â your gasp is sharp and you look up at him. But he remains unfazed. Your siblings have their brows raised. But by then, theyâve already drifted off and Taehyung wordlessly rows away. You donât have time to react or object â not when Yoongiâs grabbed your hand and you stumble after him. The last rowboat rocks back and forth violently and you drop into a seated position on the seat before you can fall in. It takes three seconds. The rope is untied and Yoongi rows away from the pier. You notice his fiancĂ©e meters away in her own boat, sitting closely with girls chatting and giggling together. Yet, she pays no mind to her friends. Instead, she stares at the two of you. âShouldnât you be with her?â Yoongi follows your line of sight and mumbles, âItâs fine.â Youâre stuck with him. Yoongi rows where no one else does and you watch the water cascade back. The soft sloshing fills the background as it gets quiet and much too uncomfortable. Yoongiâs husky timbre breaks the tension. âHow have you been?â âWell, Iâve just been trapped in my house ever since Iâve returned, but things are great.â Your voice drips of venomous sarcasm, but when you lift your eyes, his gaze locks into yours. The blonde man wears a somber expression, his irises darkening and you sigh, speaking at a quieter volume. âI actually worked out a deal with my parents. As long as I behave and donât tarnish my family name, I can do as I please. Thereâs more freedom than before. But itâs a work in progress full of compromise. If I want to leave, Iâll have to write a plan so they know where Iâm headed. I just havenât decided what I want to do next.â Your muttering gets quiet and your face hardens. âObviously, youâre doing well.â Yoongi stops rowing. He allows the boat to drift. âThe engagement was set up by my mother.â âOh please, Yoongi.â Your eyes roll and you cross your arms, ready for his excuses that you knew were coming. âIt was arranged. For all I know, I havenât proposed to anyone yet.â âThat doesnât change that fact that youâre an engaged man!â Your teeth grit. âIt doesnât change the fact that youâre going to go off with her and have a bunch of kids and a big family together, so congratu-fucking-lations.â Itâs unbearable. Thereâs nowhere you can run. Heâs truly trapped you here to confront one another. âAnd when were you planning to tell me? All those letters and you didnât mention it once!â Your eyes sting painfully as your vision floods, overwhelmed with emotion. You feel blindsighted. âI thought I wouldnât have to tell you at all. I was going to take care of it. I didnât know you were going to be here.â âYou really think itâs easy to call off an engagement with the Dukeâs daughter?!â you spit and he takes your onslaught of anger. The pain is visible on your visage. âIf I didnât come, were you going to tell me when you got to the altar? Or after you got back from the honeymoon? I...I feel like an idiot.â âIâm sorry.â Staggering exhales pull from your lungs after your tangent and silence fills the large distance between the pair of you. Yet, Yoongiâs gaze is too tender for you to bear. âMy biggest regret is not kissing you that night,â he murmurs. âOr rather, not asking you to come with me.â âItâs too late.â âIt isnât.â âWhat are you going to do, Yoongi?â âIâm going to call it off.â âHow?â âIâll try.â His voice is low, eyes half-lidded. âThen what?â you spit in exasperation. âWhat reason would you have to call it off? Itâs a great arrangement! A beneficial marriââ âI want to marry you.â The inside of your chest stutters. Your breath catches in your throat. Warmth rises to your face and heats your cheeks like a furnace. Yoongi isnât a straightforward man, blunt but never honest with his feelings. That trait has bred so many uncertainties within you. But in this moment, you feel his sincerity. You can see it, how hard heâs tried to reach you, to tell you his intentions. It reminds you of that night in Rutherglen. The festival and fireworks, when you were so close to one another, when you wouldâve gone anywhere with him. âYouâre an idiot, Min Yoongi.â You stand. âI donât feel like talking to idiots.â You pull your orb from your pocket and cast shape water. The waves rise and it splashes him. Yoongiâs yellow hair is soaked along with the entire side of his head. His visage washes over into impassivity, akin to a glare. But you donât dwell, palms laying flat in the air as you manipulate the water and push the boat back to shore. The minute you get to the pier, you pull yourself up. âI learnt more spells other than fire magic since our fight with the Remorhaz,â you add, âif you even remember that.â You know itâs unfair, but you rush away before he can discern how in a few words, heâs given you hope. The very hope that you know can easily break your heart again. // Itâs been less than two full days, but it feels like an eternity. Youâre slouched over an open arched window, elbow propped on the stone with your chin rested in your hand. The valleys of Pegan are out in the distance behind the fogged clouds, countless adventures and creatures out there for you to discover and explore. But you find yourself rooted in your place, a sense of uneasiness and yearning preventing you from leaving. At sounds of quacking, your eyes drift from the scenery to the first floor. By the staircase is a white duck with an orange beak trotting along with a row of pale yellow, baby ducklings behind her. They follow their mother religiously, teetering from side to side, trying not to get too curious of the world around them and a smile graces your lips. âAre ducklings your favourite animal, sorcerer?â Your spine straightens in shock and the wandering ghost, Leo, grins at you. Your hand presses to your chest as you steady your breath. âAre you trying to scare me to death?!â âOf course not! That would be defeating the purpose. I canât borrow your body if youâre dead like I am,â he chortles, arms behind his back as he floats from your right side to your left. âI wanted to merely apologize for this morning. I didnât mean to be so invasive or startle you.â You glare at him, not yet accepting his apology. He continues nonethelessâ âAlso, I want you to help me.â You snort unattractively, having known he had other purposes in approaching you again. âUnless you agree to my deal, the answer is no.â âPlease,â Leo pleads. âI canât move on.â You push yourself off the wall and walk away. He follows after you, even after you quicken your steps. âWhy canât you possess someone elseâs body and watch your stupid sunrise?â âThat is not my greatest desire.â The ghost comes in front of you and you halt in fear of him entering your body. âIâm afraid I havenât been entirely truthful to you, dear sorcerer.â Your brow lifts, waiting patiently and Leo swallows hard. âI await another lost soul and I wish to depart this world together with them. I canât move on without them.â Your frustration makes your voice shrill. âItâs not only you who has problems, alright? I canât even fix mine! What makes me think I can fix yours?!â As your annoyance boils over, you start running. Itâs useless to try to elude a ghost who canât get tired, but you try anyway. âSorcerer!â And without looking, you turn the corner and collide with another body. âWoah!â Jin steadies you before the two of you can topple over. âWhy are you not looking at where youâre going?â Lia is with him and regards you with wide eyes. âAre you okay?â You glance over your shoulder. The ghost never comes. âItâs nothing,â you mutter in a sigh. âMomâs looking for you again.â âWhat is it this time?â The words come out in a tired exhale. Your older brother shrugs. âMight have to do with tonightâs dinner.â âHey, Y/N.â Suddenly, Lia takes your hands. âTell me honestly, do you like Jinha?â âNo.â You warily eye her, not sure where sheâs going with this. The corner of Jinâs mouth curls. âWhy? You like him?â âWell, if she doesnât like him, she should give him to me,â Lia mumbles, then quickly turns to you. âOf course, if you do, then by all means, our sisterhood is my top priorityâŠ.â You pull your hand away from her. âI donât like him, Lia. But heâs not mine to give away either. You can do whatever you want.â Your sisterâs eyes twinkle with a kind of enthusiasm that makes you scoff with a smile. Jinâs mouth is quirked as well, but his curiosity has been piqued and he doesnât hesitate to askâ âItâs because of him, isnât it? Heâs the reason youâre not interested. The youngest son of the Min faction. What was his name?â âYoongi.â If possible, Liaâs features light up further and she steps forward, cornering you. âWhat happened on that boat ride, Y/N? It seemed like you were having a really intense talk.â âIt was nothing,â you murmur. âHe practically pulled you into the boat with him. I mean, did his fiancĂ©e mind?â In the midst of the interrogation, Jin shifts to you, eyes unwavering. âYou started sending him letters the minute you got back, but now heâs engaged and he happens to pull you aside like thatâ What really happened on your adventure together?â Millpass, Bogsburrough, Rutherglen. The memories seep back into you. The fireworks and festival, the night at the roadside tavern, fighting together at the underground market. The way he rushed in front of you in the face of the white dragon, how the two of you sat on the hill and watched the sunset together. Itâs overwhelming. âWho is he to you?â âI said nothing!â you lie and push past them, stomping in the other direction to get away from your overbearing siblings. âHey!â Lia shouts after you. âMomâs still calling you!â You ignore them, turning the corner then down the staircase lest the wandering ghost plagues you again or you run into Taehyung, your mother or father. For good measure, you depart outside without any direction but merely feeling the soft grass underneath your boots. Youâre about to turn yourself invisible for a moment of peace or disguise yourself as a maid to escape, but with your unfortunate luck thatâs been bestowed to you since you arrived, you run into dimples before you get the chance. A petite figure with spiral curls and an evening dress of modesty. Her brown eyes sparkle as your eyes lock with one anotherâs. With half a mind and all the etiquette training that had been slammed into you at childhood, you curtsy. âHello.â âGood evening.â Klarinda smiles at you without a trace of malice. âWhat a coincidence meeting you here. I was about to head to my greenhouse.â âYes.â You stiffly nod. âIf youâll excuse meâŠâ But before you can march off, she twirls around. âWould you like to join me?â Itâs an open space. The gardens seem to stretch on for miles, plant walls that border the perimeter. In the center of it all is a structure made of glass. The ceilings are high to let in sunlight and there are rows and benches of potted plants and flowers. âSome of these I grow simply because theyâre beautiful. But a lot of these herbs have medicinal purposes.â âYouâre a cleric, arenât you, my lady?â âI am, like my mother. And you donât have to address me by such formal titles. A friend of Yoongiâs is a friend of mine.â The girl smiles. âKlarinda is fine.â You nod and she quietly hums a song as she waters flowers. You follow after her until a particular plant catches your eye â verdant leafs, yellow petals and plump berries. âItâs a sunberry plant,â Klarinda says when she notices your curiosity. âWould you like to try one?â The Dukeâs daughter happily plucks one off and holds it out in front of you. The second your teeth bites down, the sweetness explodes into your cheek. She giggles at your reaction. âGood, right? My dad likes to come in here and eat them when theyâre in season, so theyâre always gone.â âGood enough to sell. You should cast a protection or barrier spell on them.â âI should.â She grins, dimples dotted on both sides of her face. âBut between you and me, I actually don't mind so much. It makes me happy that he enjoys something from my garden, even if he has to sneak in.â Most of your first impressions arenât wrong. Within minutes of conversation, you can figure out if a customer is going to chase you down and try to fight you or might come back at a latter time to buy more. And you can tell her innocence isnât a feigned facade. The Marquise is endearing enough that you like her for it. For a moment, you almost feel envious of Yoongi. But theyâre undoubtedly a good match. A stoic, strong knight capable of shielding away a virtuous maiden who knows nothing of the world, but is kind and generous to a fault. Itâs a portrait perfect couple. âThis place is really beautiful.â You force yourself away from the thoughts that form a lump in your throat. âThank you. It can get lonely though.â You hum, supposing a vast yet empty estate would do that to someone. âDonât people from Pegan visit often?â âThey do. They mostly arrive for business. I used to play with all kinds of children from the different factions, especially during holidays. But they can beâŠâŠâ âA bit much?â Klarinda laughs. âYes! Some might say crazy or competitive, but much is a good word too.â You grin. âIâve barely gotten to know how the factions work, but I can already tell. Some of them are so conceited.â Her eyes sparkle. âLike Jinha?â âYes!â She giggles, her dimples creased deeper and her teeth shown in the light. Like this, sheâs less of a proper and demure lady, niece to the king, and more like a girl you wouldâve known on your travels. âHe can be quite a gentleman, but he has an arrogant nature.â âMy sister likes him, but Iâm not sure why. Personally, I think she could do better. Then again, they wouldn't be bad together.â With the divine sorcererâs willing-to-please nature and Liaâs incessant demands and high maintenance personality, it might work out better than intended. âIâm envious that you have so many siblings,â Klarinda says with a tender smile and youâre caught in surprise. You didnât know it was possible she could be envious of you when you were envious of her in so many ways. âIâm an only child, so Iâve often wondered what it wouldâve been like to have an older brother or younger sister. Thereâs nothing that beats family after all.â âYouâre not missing out on much, trust me. Siblings can be quite annoying.â She laughs again. âStill, I think it wouldâve been nice to belong to a bigger family.â A comfortable silence simmers as you follow after her and she moves to prune a plant. You break the quiet. âActually, I was away from my family for quite a while. For a number of years.â âI thought you went adventuring for one year?â You shake your head. âThey told everyone I went to go study arcane magic, but it isnât true. I ran away and was gone for three.â Klarinda looks at you with a gentle expression, recognizing your solemnity. âWhat matters is that youâre here with them now.â You nod. âI donât regret coming home. Iâm glad I didnât have to return when there was a funeral of my parents.â âEven if theyâre overbearing?â she asks with a tiny smile. âEven if theyâre overbearing,â you confirm. âYou met Yoongi during your travels, right?â Immediately, you freeze, but she focuses on her plant, only stealing a simple glance at you. âHe told me a lot about you from day one.â âIs that so?â âThe engagement was a surprise to the both of us,â she murmurs, placing her shears down. âIt happened less than a month ago. Suddenly my mother sat me down and told me about the arrangement. It was strange considering she had never spoken to me about it before and sheâs never been one to make such an agreement. Anyway, a few minutes after I met Yoongi, he spoke about you. Rather fondly.â âReally?â You plaster on a polite smile. âWell, Iâm flattered. Heâs a great friend.â âIs he sincerely a friend to you?â Klarinda asks. Her gaze is piercing and you raise your guard. Sheâs going to threaten you â you know it. But you werenât the one who made the decision and you donât want any part of it. It doesnât involve you. It never will. Having learnt from the best, your face becomes blank. âI am very happy that heâs finally engaged. Heâs always been very popular, so settling down just seems right for him.â At once, the cleric grips her necklace. Against your will, she casts an enchantment spell and a fifteen foot radius sphere sweeps out from her. It keeps you inside. A zone of truth that prevents lies. âIâm sorry. But I need to know.â She looks at you solemnly. âDo you like Yoongi?â You cuss in Elvish underneath your breath. You canât be deceptive, but you can still be evasive in your responses as long as it remains within the boundaries of the truth. âItâs not like I dislike him.â âPlease be honest with me.â She searches your expression earnestly, pleading with you. Being with Yoongi has made you soft. Youâre used to protecting your vulnerabilities until the end, but the truth spills from you as if itâs been dying to be saidâ âIâm in love with him.â The spell dissipates. Klarinda smiles. âThen Iâll call off the engagement.â âWhat?â âThey canât force me to do anything and Iâd rather keep two great friends than having an unwilling husband for the rest of my life.â Her dimples crease. âI wouldnât want that for him, myself or you.â âWait! J-Just because I feel a certain way doesnât mean he does or even that the engagement should be called off! This...this is something you should talk about with him, not me.â Her smile becomes sweeter. âIsnât it obvious?â You blink at her. âYoongi loves you too. Whatâs more that needs to be said?â The girl is so certain as if the answer has never been clearer. Sheâs a hopeless romantic. Utterly so. Someone who believes that love prevails above all and suddenly, you want to give into that urge as well. But before either of you can move, thereâs a rumble beneath your feet. The ground itself tilts. Klarinda catches herself on the bench and you find your own balance. The pair of you tear your eyes away from one another to the roaring noise. The castle is shaking in its foundation. She notices the smoke thatâs rising in the air. âIs...that fire?â Your eyes widen and you rush over, instincts screaming. The girl trails behind you and you pull yourself inside. Thereâs fire eating at the walls and you take your orb out, focusing your magic to snuff out the flames. To the best of your abilities, you extinguish it. Klarinda stays with you, using her own magic to try to aid you. âSorcerer!â In the midst of the pandemonium, a familiar voice and form comes from the walls. Leo, the ghost, floats to your side. âI need your help. You must come with me. Please!â Klarindaâs eyes widen. But you donât notice. âDonât you see whatâs going on?! I canât help you!â The ghost vanishes. There is smoke filling the halls, flooding the corridors and you cover your mouth with the sleeve of your dress, coughing into it. Members from different factions are rushing past with their own weapons and shields, swords gripped or magic at their fingertips. Thereâs shouting above the chaos, but you donât know whatâs going on. Not until you enter the main room and find your mother and Taehyung. âMom!â Thereâs a dracolich in the center of the circular room, towering high enough to graze the dome ceiling. Itâs a monster â once a dragon until it became undead. Now whatâs left of it is bones instead of flesh and blood, open eye sockets and decayed wings. But instead of being buried underneath the ground or burnt to ash, itâs come back to life, roaring and whipping its tail to a group of terrified, screaming wizards. There are several death knights as well. Decayed bodies with rotting flesh and pinpoints of light in place of eyes. Theyâre undead warriors who have revived, having once been rangers and barbarians until they fell. And one of them lunges at Taehyung until your mother casts finger of death, causing it searing pain and making it drop to its knees. Three rays of fire shoot past her, firing onto the death knight. She turns her head. âY/N!â âWhereâs Jin and Lia?â âThey went to go find your father. Heâs with the Duke!â Another death knight comes running forward with an axe and Taehyung screams before splashing a bubble of acid on it. A beat later, your motherâs grasp on her wand tightens and she sends a frigid beam of blue-white light streak on the monster. A coldness sweeps through the room and you follow up with casting firebolt. The monster has slowed down, barely staggering and obviously wounded. Yet, it tries to swing and misses Taehyung by a long shot. âNot bad,â you comment. âHey, Iâve improved a lot since the last time you saw me fight!â A rectangular grin is plastered on Taehyungâs face. But the conversation is cut short by the dragonlichâs tail. He jumps away before heâs attacked and joins the other side where a paladin is fighting another monster. âGo!â Your mother shouts. âItâs too dangerous!â âIâm not leaving!â You donât know where these undead creatures came from, how they even came alive again, or who revived them. Thereâs no time to think and in the midst of the anarchy, youâre trapped. Sheer seconds as you realize youâre about to be struck, but youâre unable to do anything. You merely brace for the impact. But the monster drops dead in front of you. Yoongi pulls his rapier out in one smooth tug, the silver blade slicing through the air. You gasp for air and he immediately engulfs you in an embrace. The man with the light blonde strands of hair holds you tight as your breath steadies and you savour his warmth. There are no words spoken, nothing that needs to be said that canât be translated through his desperate yet affectionate gesture. âSorcerer.â The moment canât last long when youâre interrupted by the ghost. It floats to you and Yoongi is on guard, lifting the tip of his weapon. But you place a hand on his arm and he eases. âListen to me.â Youâre calm enough to finally pay attention, to hopefully be given answers. And answers are what he offers you. âThere is a lich where the old castle resides. You must find the phylactery and destroy it before things become worse.â âA lich?!â Liches are among the worst creatures of humanity â undead spellcasters of great power. Theyâre creatures who traded in their souls for a chance to exist forever. There are untold treachery and blasphemies theyâve done just to become what they are. But theyâre given immortality unless someone destroys their phylactery, an object that stores their life essences. Before you can ask any more questions, the ghost dissipates in thin air. Klarinda, who noticed the transparent form, runs to you. She grabs your hands and searches your expression. âWhat did the ghost say?!â âT-Thereâs a lich in the old castle!â âI know where that is!â The Dragonlich roars deafeningly as a warlock casts hold monster and it becomes paralyzed. At the same time, Yoongi pierces a death knight that was barreling towards you. You turn to your mother who gives a glance and she doesnât even take a moment of hesitation. âGo!â She trusts your decisions â her gaze tells you that. Klarinda nods and Yoongi takes your hand. The two of you follow after her as she twists through the halls. âHow did you come in contact with that ghost, Y/N?â âI donât know. He was the one who approached me after the tournament and heâs been bothering me since yesterday.â Klarinda turns down the hall. âDo you know who that ghost is?â âHe told me his name is Leo.â âHeâs King Lionel,â she says and your brows raise. Yoongi doesnât appear surprised either. He wears a solemn expression, having recognized him as well. âThere was a section of his life in my history textbook of Pegan. This place used to be his castle.â Youâre baffled, completely rendered speechless. She continues, âThere was a rebellion a thousand years ago. This whole place burnt down, but it was rebuilt during my grandfatherâs generation.â âWere there ever mentions of a lich? Or someone who traded their soul?â Yoongi shakes his head. âNo.â âHe never had a wife. But there were rumours that he had a mistress. A wizard from far away lands.â Your eyes meet Klarindaâs. âHis kingdom was taken down before they could get married.â âBut why now?â Youâre running out of breath as she climbs a staircase. âIf this...mistress traded in her soul a thousand years ago, why is she trying to revive dragons and knights now?â âIt isnât just now,â Klarinda murmurs, her brows drawn into a tight furrow and jaw clenched. âMembers of the royal family in Pegan have gone missing for generations. Theyâve always swept it under the carpet and kept it a secret, but I think Iâm about to find out the reason.â The three of you turn another corner, but come to a grinding halt when you see a flailing lady. âMother!â Duchess Jacquelyn is in the middle of the corridor, wearing a bountiful and extravagant gown while her arms are full of jewelry boxes, dangling strings of pearls and diamonds. One string slips from the pile and rolls on the cobblestone to your friendâs feet. âD-Darling! What a surprise! Whatâs going on? The noise has been startling me!â Klarinda steps forward. âWhat are you doing?â âT-This?! Nothing! I was just re-organizing! Yes. Reorganizing.â âThatâs grandmotherâs ring.â She points, eyes narrowed in. âYouâve never brought it out since her funeral.â âWell...sometimes change is needed, sweetheart.â They stare at one another while you exchange looks with Yoongi. There is a pregnant silence, tangible tension thatâs suffocating. Then you notice how Duchess Jacquelyn slips her hand to her side and something glistens in your eyes, blinding your vision. Your mouth draws open. âYouâre not my mother!â â âWatch out!â The dagger strikes her. Klarinda cries as the back of her right hand is sliced. Yet she grabs the opportunity and grips her necklace, her spellcasting object. The girlâs left hand comes out and she holds her motherâs double by the wrist, casting inflict wound. The creature screams horrifically in sheer agony. âWhat did you do to her?! Where is she?!â You grip your orb, casting scorching ray. One beam of fire hits it and it screeches. A moment later, Yoongi lifts his rapier and strikes it twice, causing the monster to stumble onto its back. Its weapon clacks out of reach. Klarinda grabs the dagger and holds the creature to the floor. She presses the blade to its throat. All traces of her kindness and mercy have dissipated in the face of her rage. âWhere is she?!â âO-Okay! Okay! I surrender!â It puts up its hands and shifts. The form of the creature is no longer the beautiful, middle-aged Duchess but a tall, elven gray-skinned humanoid. Its face is formless and eyes are pale and bulging. Its voice croaks, âIâm a doppelganger! I didnât have a choice! The lich made me do it!â âMy mother!â Klarinda shrieks and you lower yourself, squeezing her shoulder and she eases. Tears have filled her eyes, but when she glances at you, sheâs able to compose herself. âSheâs dead. Her soulâs been consumed.â Klarinda breaks down into sobs. You wrap an arm around her and she lets up on the doppelganger, but Yoongi makes sure to keep his foot down on its shoulder. âWe have to get it.â She wipes at her tears, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. âWe have to kill that lich, Y/N!â âWe will,â you promise her. âWe will.â Seconds later, you see Jinha come forward and he rushes over trying to get a grasp of the situation. âCan you take care of this?â you ask and he easily agrees. âO-Of course, lady Y/N.â He binds up the doppelganger and Klarinda casts cure wounds on herself, healing her gash. She takes your hand afterwards and you hold it. Yet, even as her frame shakes, thereâs determination in her steps. A type of anger that has solidified her resolve and given her courage. âThis is the passageway.â She pushes open a small stone door to reveal a crawl space after Yoongi helped push a bookshelf to the side in the corner of the library. âI found it as a kid, but I never went in too far. The servants found me and they tried to cover it up.â The three of you crawl through before it opens up and Yoongi helps you down onto the landing. There is consuming darkness until Klarinda casts light onto the dagger she has and you ignite a flame to dance into your hand. The empty void is collected with cobwebs, spiders and eyes of bats staring back at you, quietly observing your forms. Each of your steps echo and a cloud of dust emerges. You move slowly, scared that the steps of the staircase winding downwards will collapse under your weight. But youâre able to look around, at the crumbling paintings, the fragmented pillar pieces, the stone walls with scorched markings, and the ancient statues long lost and eaten by time itself. Never would you have guessed that the basement of the castle held all of this. That they had rebuilt themselves on top of what was once the castle of the entire kingdom of Pegan. You can imagine what this wouldâve been like a thousand years ago. Children running with servants scolding them, advisors walking by King Lionelâs side, his lover waiting for him. Then you envision the screams, the devouring fire. You can see the charred marks along the banister. You can almost hear it, but you quickly shake it off before you can become frightened. âDestroying the phylactery is the only way we can get rid of the lich without it coming back, but how will we know where it is or what it is?â It could be any object in any room. You turn with the flickering fire in your palm, looking all around you. Itâs endless. âIf that monster is down here, there has to be a reason,â Yoongi offers, standing by your side. âIt couldâve moved anywhere but it might be protecting its phylactery.â âI know where it is.â Thereâs a low voice and a familiar ghost descends in front of you with a saddened smile. âYour highness.â Klarinda bows her head. But you remain still, even after knowing his identity. King Lionel looks at you with his brows knitted together. âI am sorry for deceiving you, dear sorcerer. Or rather, holding the truth from you. I feared you would have denied my request had I been forthright about it. In hindsight, I couldâve prevented the devastation that has wrecked this place. Had I only knownâŠ.â âDo you know where the lich is? Or where the phylactery is?â âIt is in the last place where I perished.â The King smiles. âIn our chambers.â He turns, floating away and Klarinda follows. You and Yoongi trail behind her and when you feel the back of his hand grazing against yours, you grasp it. Yoongi looks at you and you release your held sigh. âWhy is it that we always find ourselves in adventures like these?â âYou mean these life or death scenarios?â The corner of his mouth curls and he squeezes your hand. âWe always manage. But you shouldâve told me that you were talking to a ghost.â âI donât think we were on speaking terms until recently, duckling.â Yoongi grins at the nostalgic nickname, the one you used to start each letter, and your own smile is tinged with sadness. You donât know if either of you will live. If the pair of you have it in you to be an actual hero and defeat the greatest monster. And as these doubts fill you, so do the regrets that you harbour for not hearing him out, for not trusting in him. With such little time, you wonder if this is it. If this will be your last opportunity. Your steps slow. âYoongi. Iââ âHow dare you enter my lair?!â Thereâs a snarling voice resounding above and instantly, the ghost of King Lionel vanishes. Klarinda turns behind her and looks at you and Yoongi. The hall has ended with a crumbling stone door in front of her. âLeave!â The voice shrieks deafeningly into multiple layers. âLeave!â You nod at her and she pushes the door open. The dust billows out, sweeping in front of your forms. The fire in your hand smothers and the strong gust of wind pulls through your hair. You canât open your eyes, so you shield yourself away. Yoongi feels his grasp on you loosen. Your touch fades away from him. He shouts after you until his throat is raw, but itâs to no avail. He scrambles blindly until heâs able to open his eyes and finds himself in an empty void of darkness. âI know your greatest fear.â Thereâs a whisper in his ear and he jolts, turning around while drawing his rapier. But thereâs nothing there, not even a shapeless figure. âMin Yoongi. I have read your thoughts.â âI have read your mind,â a second voice crackles to his left. The right snicker. âYour greatest fear is betrayal of your loved one.â âWhether that would be no longer sharing your affections.â âOr choosing another person to be with.â âGet out of my head,â he commands from deep within his stomach, his impassivity ruined by the furrow of his brows. But Yoongi feels a cold breath on the nape of his neck. âA lick of poison from her would destroy you for good.â Fire. You see it in front of you as youâre collapsed on the floor. The orange and rose glow are illuminated on your face. Youâre sitting so close it seems to lick at your cheeks. Yet youâre brought into a lull as you listen to the crackle and pop, as you allow the smoke to fill your senses. Youâre brought in a trance as you watch the fire burn a house down, a quaint home with a picket white fence and large windows with pink curtains. âYour greatest strength is your greatest fear.â Thereâs a murmur in your ear. Itâs unrecognizable. âI know,â you mumble. âYou are afraid of one day no longer being able to control the flames that seethes to be unleashed.â âBut repress it no longer, dear,â the left voice seductively whispers, hissing softly. âWorry no longer.â âYour magic is incredible and oozes from you.â â âGive into it.â â âAllow it freedom.â âWhatâŠ.about...Yoongi?â you ask, tearing your eyes away from the fire into the darkness. You stand back on your feet, finding balance again. âNo.â Thereâs a sharp inhale to your right. âLeave him.â You scoff automatically, the idea so utterly ridiculous that itâs unfathomable. âIâm not going to do that. I finally found someone that doesnât find me annoyingâŠ.â âYou could be powerful.â The more it talks, the more youâre coming to your senses. âI already am powerful!â You twist around, dispelling away the hallucination of the burning house with the flicker of your hand. âAnd I already know how to control my powers! You think Iâm some kind of amateur sorcerer?! It doesnât control me. I control it!â Again, you ignite a fire in your hand and narrow your eyes. In the distance, you catch strands of pale yellow. And you run after him. The voices scream for you to stop, but you fight against the magic that threatens to pull you back. The moment you smother out the flame, you leap at Yoongi. Your arms are thrown around him in an embrace and immediately, his hands wrap around you. Yoongi stumbles back with an infectious smile expanding into his cheeks. The spell dissipates and you find yourself back in the underground remains of the ancient castle. âDonât let go of my hand again, brat.â âIâm sorry,â you mumble against his neck. Suddenly, thereâs a piercing scream that ricochets through the air â one belonging to only Klarinda. You pull away from Yoongi, eyes locked into one another and he sets you down. Your fingers interlace and you follow the sound, turning down the hall once more and entering through the large double-doors to the decaying chambers. A frame of a bed sits in the wide expanse of the room, grayed cloth ripped and drifting over the canopy. Ash and soot sits in a layer on the floorboards, the wardrobe and vanity along the back wall destroyed. Thereâs a large painting on the wall, but the faces of the couple have been torn and scratched by bleeding fingernails. Your eyes sweep the room within seconds before landing on Klarinda whoâs been blighted. Sheâs fallen over and you come to cover her with your body as you look upon the lich. Itâs angular and skeletal with withering flesh stretched tightly across visible bones, dressed in regal finery, reddened drapes that once was vibrant. Yoongiâs knuckles turn white at his grip and he runs towards the creature. He misses, but hits on his second try, slashing it across. He surges forward, yet it does little to the lich that still stands. âFoolish children,â she hisses and grips the blade of Yoongiâs rapier, rendering him immobile. âYou arenât heroes. Your recklessness will bring forth your death. I will not spare you from the choices you have made.â You cast immolation and flames wreathe the lich. She lets go of Yoongiâs weapon and the light of your magic is so bright that youâre forced to look away. At the same time, Klarinda cures her wounds and slowly comes to her feet again. âDo you really think you could defeat me?!â The lichâs snarling voice booms across the room. Pinpoints of crimson light burn in the empty sockets of where her eyes were before they rotted away. She glides forward as if floating on water and a sphere of poisonous gas billows to all corners of the room. âYoongi!â You cover your mouth with your hand and the yellow-green fog obscures your view. You hear the clanking of metal where he hits the lich and you feel your vision blurring from the poison. But as you narrow your eyes, youâre able to make out the faint shadow of the lichâs form. And a thin green ray springs from your pointing finger in the spell disintegrate, allowing you to hear itâs deafening shriek. You give permission for your phoenix magic to unleash and youâre magically twined in swirling fire, eyes glowing as hot coals. Your flesh sheds bright light into the fog. Behind you, Klarinda murmurs words of restoration and you feel yourself being healed from the poison. The lich is toying with you. You know it. The moment you stepped into here, it couldâve immediately killed any of you with a single word, but instead, it chose to manifest those hallucinations and slowly suffocate the three of you in this poison. The lich glides towards you, but is stopped by Yoongi. Before you can pull him out of the way, she lifts her finger, and he drops to his knees. He screams from the sheer agony that courses up his body. âYoongi!â The lich casts detect thoughts on him, probing his brain, tearing apart bits and pieces of it. It hums and muses, âHow selfless yet foolish. Even in this much pain, you are still thinking about how much you love her.â Yoongi grits his teeth, bumbling upwards to his feet and strikes the monster thrice. The force is enough that she staggers back and tense silence fills the air. You steal the opportunity and come forward next to Yoongi. Your palms press towards the monster to cast fireball, but the roar of the flames never comes. The lich has counterspelled it. Klarinda cries and runs forward with her dagger. âYou killed my mother!â âAnd her soul was delicious to consume,â she snarls and grabs her blade, tossing it aside as if it were a toy. âYours will be too!â Klarinda sobs as something catches the corner eye. But thereâs no chance â not when the lich takes your spell of choice and magic blooms out of her thin fingertips. Fire blossoms from her flesh, thundering out in the force of her rage. You immediately turn to hug Yoongi, arms embracing his body to protect him. But when his hands reach to the back of your neck and he presses your face to his shoulder, youâre not sure whoâs protecting who. Yet, the fire never reaches you. Even when it rumbles through the room and the ruins of the ancient castle. Even when the walls begin to crack further and fragments of the ceiling dust down. Even when scorching flames has filled every corner of the space. You raise your head, finding that the ghost of King Lionel is facing the lich. One of his last fragments of magic has been channeled into an aura of life spell, shielding the three of you away. âEnough, Karlis,â he calls out to her softly. âYou have done enough harm.â âI thought I banished you!â she snarls out, crouched over as the pinpoints of red lights of her eyes glare at him. âI wonât leave without you.â âWhy?!â The voice is jarring to your ears. âThe girl you knew is long gone!â Neither of them notice Klarinda who staggers upwards towards the vanity in the corner, struggling to grab her dagger along the way. âEven so, I wonât leave her behind again. I wonât leave you behind. So come with me, Karlis. Leave your anger behind and come with me.â His arm outstretched but the monster cackles horrifically. âFoolish, man! I will not stop until I have destroyed the bloodline that ruined us.â âNo one ruined us. It was I who ruled poorly, and you who chose to give up your soul and walk down this path by your lonesome in the wake of your grief. Karlis.â âNever!â she screeches and a gust of wind pushes him away. Then the lich screeches in torment. Klarinda digs the daggerâs blade into the heart shaped necklace on the vanity â the phylactery that holds the life force of the lich. She plunges the weapon several times until her arm strains, until the daggerâs curved against the vanityâs surface, until it slips from her trembling hand and she tosses it aside in the midst of tears. The lichâs bones collide against the floor. Her screams are audible around the room and the red clothing flutters in the air as it drops. You look away with Yoongi, but King Lionel gazes at her until the last moment. Gone. After centuries of terrorizing Peganâs royal family, just like that. // The sunbeams pierce the sky in pastel shades, painting the clouds in watercolour hues. It breaks away the darkness of the night and the stars of the horizon. Klarinda is silent as she looks onward from the open arched window with her arms behind her back. But you know itâs not her. Sheâs been possessed by King Lionel, having granted his wish and allowed him to borrow her body. âMy last duties as a King have been complete,â he murmurs in her voice. âMy business is finished now that I know she hasnât been left behind.â He turns to you and Yoongi with a dimpled smile. âThank you. Sorcerer. Knight. Without your help, I wouldnât have been able to free her from her own treachery.â âItâs not like you gave us much of a choice,â you mumble half-heartedly and he chuckles. âI guess I didnât. Iâm also sorry Iâm not able to give you gold or any semblance of a reward when you have bestowed to me such a great favour.â âHaving our lives is enough,â Yoongi says, bowing his head and you scoff lightly. The ghostsâ eyes twinkle as he looks at him and then to you. âYou really do remind me of her,â he says. âBut more strong-willed and self-assured. Something she had greatly missed and led her to her demise.â A sigh releases from him. âThe world is blessed to have such great heroes.â The pair of you exchange expressions. âIâm not so sure about thatâŠ.â You still donât feel like heroes â he was the one who protected you and Klarinda was the one who destroyed the phylactery. Both you and Yoongi barely did anything other than waltz in there without a plan. In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea but there wasnât really enough time to figure out battle tactics. Or at least thatâs the excuse youâre going to hang onto. The ghost gives an all-knowing smile and turns to the horizon. âMy time is here. Thank you for your help, heroes.â Within three seconds, he dissipated from her. Klarinda stumbles and is steadied by Yoongi. She smiles, thanking him before gazing at the pair of you. Two dimples are marked in each corner of her cheeks.
The chaos has come and gone. The moment the lichâs life source was destroyed, the monsters no longer swarmed and spawned on the grounds. The place is no longer haunted either. Itâs finally what it looks like â simply, a castle. You came here to find the truth and to confront Yoongi â you never expected to encounter a ghost and a lich. Itâs a wonder how itâs possible trouble can find you in so many ways no matter where you go. âArenât you cold?â A husky voice pipes up behind you and youâre brought out of your trance. Pale yellow hair joins your side, reminding you of ducklings. Itâs still dawn, but youâre at the bottom steps of the garden's gazebo instead of seeking refuge on a soft bed. It was the only way you could get some peace and quiet from your siblings. âIâm never cold.â You turn to him, a fire flickering in your palm. Yoongi tenderly smiles. âHow did speaking to Duke Fesan go?â âHeâs bedridden, but heâll make it. He wasn't too badly injured. But heâs grieving with his daughter.â You nod. âAnd your mother and father?â âTheyâre fine. A little shocked, but theyâre using the opportunity to boast about me. A lot.â A laugh bubbles out of you. âWell, itâs not like they have no reason to. Youâre amazing, Yoongi,â you breathe it out with a second thought, as if it were factual and you donât notice his gaze on you. âHow about your own family?â âTheyâre fine. My sisterâs well enough to flirt with Jinha and my brothers are bickering loud enough to give my mom a headache,â you say and he hums. âBut weâre leaving in a few hours. They already called the carriage for the afternoon.â âYouâre heading back home?â You nod wordlessly. The tension is suffocating. You decide to break it, turning to him while masking a smile. âHow was breaking the...other news to the Duke?â âEasier than one would expect. Klarinda asked to call off the wedding and the Duke said it was the doppelgangerâs arrangement anyway. It was trying to amass as much wealth for itself as it could.â âThatâs good.â âIt is.â âGet that sorted and out of the way.â You steal a glance at Yoongi pathetically to find he has an impassive expression and is blankly looking onward. After a moment, he yawns tiredly and then his eyes flicker to you. Instantly, you divert your vision elsewhere, not noticing his smile. âYou know,â he says, âthe Duke thought it would be unfair to me. Even though itâs going to be called off, everyone already knows about the arrangement. It might be an opportunity for gossip to be made towards the Min faction.â âAnd what did you say?â âI said that I already had someone else in mind from the start.â Your eyes meet. Pools of deep brown locked into yours. Strands of his blonde hair nearly pricking into his lashes. And itâs an intimate moment as your voice quiets. âDid you really mean what you said on that boat ride. About regretting not asking me to come with you?â The man exhales, âEvery day.â âA wedding with me would be awful,â you murmur, barely coherent. You feel how warmth rises to your face and heats your cheeks like a furnace, and for once, itâs not because of the magical fire inside your blood. âMy mom would have to have a whole show and if you thought having three siblings was a lot, wait until you meet my cousins and extended family. They multiplied like damn rabbits.â Yoongi tries to put on a stoic face but fails. His grin is all too gummy. âI donât mind. You havenât met my brother yet, but heâs just as overbearing. And if anything, my mother would be ecstatic. She loves noble titles, so sheâd hit it off with your mother.â âI still want that great big house.â âI would like one too.â âIf you havenât noticed, I really like my food burnt to a crisp like a fiend.â âI donât mind.â He shrugs. âI always liked my meat especially cooked anyways.â âIâm a con artisââ âNo matter what you say, I wonât change my mind, Y/N.â Yoongiâs brow cocks, challenging you straight on, albeit more gingerly than youâve ever witnessed. âYour persuasions wonât work.â âYoongiâŠâ âYou still owe me that refund.â What? He grins mischievously and you roll your eyes, having no idea why heâs bringing this up and ruining the moment. âAre you serious?â âVery. You scammed me over a year ago and I expect a full repayment. Also, I happen to collect interest. Itâs a hefty, hefty interest fee.â âOkay.â You play along. âWhat do I owe you now?â Youâre not sure what to expect. Youâre never sure when it comes to him considering heâs so hard to read. But your breath hitches as he lowers himself to one knee and looks up at you with his tender features relaxed into the softest expression. He pulls something out of his pocket. âNothing. Itâll be me who will owe you, if you would so graciously choose to spend your life with meââ You throw your arms around Yoongi. The both of you collapse onto the soft bed of grass and you giggle infectiously, pulling yourself up from him. âYouâre an idiot, you know that? I really thought that for the rest of your life, you were just going to send me letters.â Yoongi grins a gummy smile. His arms wrap around your body and he reaches up to finally capture your lips on his. The two of you kiss each other, making up for the moments where you shouldâve done it sooner. Itâs sweet, but less than innocent with how eager it is. You only manage to pull away when out of the corner of your eye, you catch curtains shifting from upstairs. âNosy, arenât they,â Yoongi laughs. At the left window, your family is crowding around. Taehyung and Lia are shoving each other to get a look, Seokjin has his palms pressed against the glass, your father is grinning while your mother is absolutely astounded. At the right, both of Yoongiâs parents are peeking out owlishly. You see different members of the faction watching in both horror and confusion, having not yet heard of the news that the engagement is broken and assuming that theyâre catching him in the midst of a scandal. But more importantly, you see Klarinda smiling infectiously at the top of the tower with her dad coming to look too. âExciting, isnât it?â Yoongi teases, âWith so many guests watching.â âIs it so hard to get some damn privacy? This is why I prefer being on the move,â you whine and cast invisibility on the both of you. Yoongi laughs, closing the distance to kiss you again.
[Epilogue] âWhat if this is a trap.â âThen weâll grab our weapons. But I donât think it is.â Thereâs a house in the middle of the peaceful suburbs, placed in the middle of the street in a row of other homes. Built with bricks covered in render and an oak roof with a chimney on the side, it stands tall in a fairly asymmetrical pattern. The windows are large and it looks like the structure has two floors. More importantly, they swear they see the curtains shift on the left side. The two young adventurers step up on the wooden porch, facing the oak double doors. âDo we justâŠ.knock?â âI guess.â His fist raps against the surface while she braces herself for an attack. The door swings open. She hitches her breath, but an onslaught of offensive spells never happens. Instead, they see you. In a simple, brown dress and your hair braided in an updo with loose strands framing your full features. Your eyes glisten, giving a smile and the door widens. âGood afternoon! You children look so tired! Come in, come in!â The pair of them exchange expressions before stepping inside. The interior instantly takes their breath â cozy maple and fresh flowers at the entrance way, mementos on a shelf near the open staircase with a magical pull to them. Itâs clear that the owners of this house have made it their own. They can tell each object carries its own meaning and memory, not merely for decoration or the purpose of luxury. âMy name is Y/N,â you announce, with a light twinkle in your irises. âAnd I am a servant girl to the lord and lady of the house. May I ask who has entered the home?â âI-I am Park Jimin. Itâs said that thereâs a great and powerful sorcerer who lives here and a dark knight whoâs been to Shadowfell.â âTheyâve defeated dragons and liches before,â the girl beside him adds, brows furrowed as she regards you with a healthy amount of suspicion. âWell, itâs very nice to meet you. Iâm afraid theyâre not here at the moment. They went out to do some bidding, so you might have to wait a few hours until they return,â you inform and the two of them look at one another. âCan I ask for what reason youâre searching for them?â âWe have received a prophecy and were sent by Mirla Nistar.â Jimin steps forward. âWhen lightning strikes twice, a man of darkness shall usher forth a country's doom and the end of wealth. We have reason to suspect that this man is the demon lord, Abraxas, who is trying to rise from Shadowfell.â You hum. âAlright. Iâll let them know as soon as they get back. Would any of you care for tea? I have the best honey and sugar available!â But suddenly, the dimpled boy feels a heavy weight on his mind. Itâs a presence pressing on his brain, probing deep and whispering around the caverns of his skull for permission to be let inside. He grips his temples with a groan and his partner turns to him. âJimin?â He looks off at you and she follows his line of sight. Before she can ask you what you just did, you slip something out of your pocket. In one split secondâ âPotion?â You hold up the stoppered bottle with the milky liquid sloshing inside. âYou have a headache, donât you? I know it when I see it! Must be from your long travels! Nothing like a rejuvenating potion to feel better.â âI..Iâm alright.â Jimin lowers his hand. âNonsense. You donât want to miss this chance!â you emphasize. âI bet it wouldnât even cost you a dime. Youâre probably going to spend the same amount on some food or a place to stay at, so why not fork out some now? And it might be helpful for any upcoming adventures or expeditions!â âHow much?â the skeptical girl slowly asks and you know you have it in the bag. âTen gold pieces.â Your eyes glimmer. She digs into her satchel. But thenâ âWhatâs with the ruckus?â A rounded face and sleepy features lug down the stairs. He runs a hand through his baby yellow hair shagging in front of his forehead, having just woken up from a long nap. âWho are these people?â âTheyâre adventurers trying to defeat some demon punkââ âDemon lord,â the boy tries to correct. ââwhoâs apparently coming back to wreak havoc and steal children.â âClose enough,â he sighs. Yoongi makes a noise of acknowledgment, his expression impassive. Then his eyes dart at them and the potion in your hand. He points. âAre you trying to sell them that?â The corner of your mouth curls. âMaybe.â âPoor folks,â he exhales, utterly ruining your business transaction and not remorseful at all for it. âYouâre going to get us into trouble one day.â You scoff. âWhen havenât I gotten us into trouble. Itâs not new news now.â Your husband grins and comes to sling an arm around your shoulder. He kisses you shamelessly in front of the two strangers, yet itâs a soft and tender gesture. It makes you smile against him. Suddenly, the door shuts behind them and the surrounding warm candlelight ignites. It billows a dim luminescence into the warm home that youâve both made your own, glowing against the numerous mementos on the shelf that display the many years of your travels and journeys. Yoongi hugs you to his side and you quirk your head onto his shoulder with a sly smile. The adventurers finally come to recognize who the people in front of them are. And the pair of you turn to them. âWhat was it that you needed again?â
#bts fanfic#bts scenario#yoongi fanfic#yoongi scenario#yoongi fluff#yoongi adventure#bts adventure#yoongi as the stoic knight#and OC as the angry phoenix sorcerer lol#FINALLY AN END TO THE SERIES :D#hope you guys enjoy it#this is gonna be one of those ones that you're gonna need to read the original before the sequel lol#i think it's a hard one to understand without reading the one before
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