#a mother's attempt to preserve her child's spirit

[vm-haunts]

Idk man, I just keep thinking about how DC twisted Nezha into a Lazarus pit demon and how fucking much parallel there is between the actual legend and the sons of Batman, specifically Jason and Damian.

It's funny how much unintentional satire of themselves DC can create, but oh well they do like that clown so much.

[apinchofm]

Day Five - word prompt 'notebook'

Edwina and Friedrich being adorable and reflect on childhood.

"What is this?"

Friedrich was holding up a small, old yet well preserved notebook wrapped in pink ribbon he had found with others in one of the trunks. Their children had been 'treasure hunting'.

But he could not believe what he had found.

Edwina's eyes widened as he walked into , "Give that to me. Now."

He held it above her head, dodging every attempt

"Friedrich!"

"The old works of Miss Edwina Sharma." Friedrich said, having read the neat label on the inside, no doubt written by her mother, "I cannot believe you had so many diaries." He began flicking through as Edwina threw her arms up in frustration, her face warm with embarrassment.

"Can a child not be allowed to muse?" Edwina said.

Friedrich suddenly stopped on a page and looked up at Edwina who narrows her eyes, "What have you found?"

He chuckled, "Requirements for a husband."

"I was six years old and asked by my governess to do so. Then she told me I was being silly." Edwina told him, "I do not even remember what I wrote!" She did not even wish to think about it! It was probably similar to what Alexandra, who at five years old was determined to prove the existence of fairies, would write.

"Well, let us see if I fulfill said list." Friedrich said seriously

"Please, we do not need to." Edwina beseeched but he sat down on the chaise lounge, dramatically clearing his throat and stretching out to begin the dissection of his wife's six year old mind.

"So, he must be tall and handsome - that is describing me in much detail." He listed, making her roll her eyes, "He must like dogs - we have five, I think I am doing very well - and must, and I quote 'trick a jinn.'"

Edwina groaned in embarrassment, "I had read many a fairy tales in which djinn and evil yashas were slain by handsome kings."

"Does this disqualify me?" Friedrich quipped.

"Your service in the war is enough."

He grinned at the next word. "You wanted a prince." He said, turning the book around so she could see her careful, slightly messy cursive as proof.

"I was six!"

"Ambitious from an early age, I admire that, lieben." He chuckled but his smile sobered as he read the final words on the page.

"What else did I write?" Edwina asked, noting he has stopped, "Should my husband have the ability to magic up cake for me?"

"My appa must love him." Friedrich read out carefully and her smile faded.

She made her way over to Friedrich who pulled her into his lap, as she looked over the tattered notebook.

"He died a few months after I wrote that list." Edwina said quietly, smiling ruefully, "I used to dream about him - at my wedding. Or being a grandfather and reading to my children as he used to do with me." He never changed in her dreams, always the same as she grew older.

Friedrich kissed her forehead and tucked her head under his chin as she sighed.

"I wish I could have met him." Friedrich murmured, "That he could have met the children."

Edwina smiles, looking up at him, "He would have liked you. I think. Your library and observatory at the very least."

He chuckled, "He would be welcome to them as he is family. And my inability to kill evil spirits?"

Edwina chuckled, wiping a stray tear from her eye, "He would have to let that go. But your inability to produce deserts out of thin air...?"

Friedrich laughed, "I shall work on that for you."

[bonefall]

please tell me more about bristlefrost in this au i love the idea of her shooting ashfur out of heaven like a comet!!! it’s so so cool and her execution… AAA!!!

What I love about Bris and want to preserve is how intelligent she is. Hawkfrost famously has redemption in this rewrite-- I imagine she reminds Ivypool a lot of her Dark Forest mentor who lost his life taking a stand against Tigerstar.

Bris is an excellent strategist, a great fighter, and an upcoming prodigy. Ivypool is extremely proud of her. The Firekin family has high expectations, and Bris and Thrift are meeting all of them.

(Which is good because Flippaw... he's... he's a special boy. No honey we don't want to see how far you can fit an ant up your nose.)

But Bristlepaw is still a child. When Bramblefake targets her for his tyranny games, she's susceptible because she wants to impress her leader. When Ivypool realizes what's happening, she steps in immediately, offering herself as Bramblestar's lackey instead to spare her daughter from what she had to go through in her youth.

And as Bramblefake stokes Ivypool's unaddressed resentment for codebreakers, including Dovewing and Heartstar, Bristlepaw starts seeing Rootpaw.

And I've told that story before. She is caught. She begs her mother to help her, knowing Bramblefake will do something horrible, Ivypool does not listen.

Bristlefrost's public execution is the real start of the arc, and the bloody reckoning Ivypool has with her mindset. Her daughter is dead in a flash.

Bristlefrost doesn't stop there though. She's a ghost who interacts with Rootspring all arc long, attempting to rally the others and do what they can as earthbound spirits. Ashfur commands her later as a mind controlled ghost, but in the final fight, she lands the final blow to knock him out of StarClan.

I have a budding idea that Ashfur unlocks some kind of massive Seraphim form after eating some of the ghosts he controls, or even a StarClan Warrior. He absorbs them somehow, and becomes a being so massive that he couldn't be killed with normal claws.

Bristlefrost knocking into him destroys the Meadow of Young Stars. Shatters it, breaks the entire thing into a million pieces and makes it so that only a single bridge remains between the Dark Forest and StarClan. One less magical and impenetrable than the old Meadow, which has to be physically defended.

[bokettochild]

hi hi! i was scrolling through ur blog (i love ur art and fics so much they give me life) and came across a post where u mentioned that u have guardian/manifestation of life legend theory and wanted to ask u if u could pls tell us about it :D

Oh, sure!

So, please keep in mind that most of my exposure to LoZ is through fan-works and the mangas, and this theory is more based off of the mangas, so it's not entirely cannon.

Alright, that covered, here's the theory:

Legend is, in all his depictions in his games, attempting to preserve life. His goals are always people oriented, rather than things. All the other heroes have a particular thing to drive them:

Time is driven by loss of the Deku Tree, of Navi, of all that he knew

Twilight is driven by his need to protect the people of Ordon

Wild is driven by guilt from his failure

Wind is driven (at first anyway) by the need to protect and rescue his family

Sky needs to save the love of his life

Four is rescuing his best friend

Warriors is driven (to a point) by pride, and then after that guilt for his pride, as well as a sense of duty as he is a soldier

Hyrule and Legend are the only two who hae no reason to fight as they do. Now, Hyrule is helping people in his first adventure with no particular reason except he was asked to, but the second adventure he's actively being hunted, so there is some selfish intent in that fact that he's trying to keep himself alive.

Legend doesn't fight for himself or his own goals though. Unlike the heroes before and after, Legend already lost everything before his adventure started, because he lost his whole family in a single night, yet we don't see grief, vengeance or loss drive him. In fact, Legend's reasons for any of his quests is because he sees that people need help, and while he's maybe not the most fit person to provide it, he is the only person who can or will do anything.

Legend is a hero whose goal is to preserve and protect life as a whole, regardless of who or what it is. He feels for the monsters of the dark world, knowing they're just corrupted people, he cares for the small tasks. In some of his quests, there is absolutely no reward: helping a sick mother to comfort her child, paying bills he's never paid back for, reuniting families. He's never promised a reward for most of the things he does, and has nothing to gain from risking his life and well-being to do them, but he does them regardless.

On top of that, Legend is the hero who is closest to the heavens. Going by popular fanon, he's the descendant of Hylia, but also the Chosen of Farore, the Saviour of Nayru and the Beloved of Din, on top of being the hero who rose to aid Lolia's people when her own hero found he couldn't do it alone. Oh yeah, and the Windfish kinda got saved by him too, so there's that.

And on top of all of that, Legend has a deeper connection to living things than most of his brothers. He is literally blessed with the full powers of the Triforce, as we see in the Oracle mangas, and it grants him the ability to understand all things with a soul, be they dead or living. Legend is shown to be able to hear the voices of spirits, the Master Sword, trees and plants, and of course, animals. This is not an ability only accessible through a transformation as it is with Twilight, nor is it reliant on an item as with Four, it's just something he has.

In short, Legend is the guardian of the very goddesses themselves, as well as their domains. He's the hero called to save deities when they cannot save themselves, and considering they are the creators of life (according to Hylian Lore) that makes him the guardian of Life itself, because without the goddesses, life would not exist or be able to flourish: without Din, the seasons become confused and the natural world fails, causing humanity to die with it (as Onox points out) and without Nayru, time becomes confused and distorted, allowing changes to occur and realities to, potentially, be destroyed or split in a million different ways.

Legend protects and prevents against the above things. He preserves life as a whole. He represents the strength of each of the goddesses who he's aided, showing wisdom, courage and power all in equal parts during his adventures, as well as acting as the Light of Hyrule, their Hope, and the protector of the Sacred Power, which is, in fact, what Hylia was created to do (or so I've read).

We see this manifest in the way that everything he turns his attention and love to will flourish. the first example is that, in the ALTTP manga, we see that the apple orchard he's tended since childhood, is so well cared for that the apples within posses healing capabilities, which he actually has to employ to save his own life at one point. His ability to commune with nature and living things is also an example of this.

(I'm not even touching on the telepathy, but yeah, that's also an ability).

To conclude:

Legend's every adventure has focused on life and people, and regardless of his own wants, needs or wishes, Legend has always provided protection for that life, preserving the living world over himself at all times, no matter the cost.

[rhetoricandlogic]

The Nightward by R.S.A. Garcia: Review by Liz Bourke

December 17, 2024fantasy, Liz Bourke, science fiction

The Nightward is R.S.A. Garcia’s first traditionally published novel. From the outside, it looks like a work of epic fantasy in the classic mode, in which a small team of he­roes must outwit and stand against a nebulously defined threat to all they know and love. A closer examination, however, finds it taking this classic form in some interesting directions, as a child-queen-in-waiting and her bodyguard experience one of the world’s worst road trips in their flight from the Dark.

Some 500 years or so before The Nightward begins, its history says the world was subject to an “Age of Chaos” filled with terrible beasts and horrible suffering, ruled over by inimical Masters with great power. An individual called Gaiea, worshipped now as a goddess, brought the Age of Chaos to a close and ended the rule of the Masters. She sealed away the Darkness and dark magic and put it into a book, the titular Nightward, and instituted a new order, one where people live with only ordinary hazards to their daily life. Her gifts – the ability to manipulate the world in certain ways, to do certain kinds of magic – have been manifest in many people ever since, most notably in the many ruling queens of the courts of what has since been known as Gailand. The queens have stood as safeguard against the Dark and for the preservation of the world Gaiea brought into being, especially the queen of the High Court of Dun, known as the Hand of Gaiea, pre-eminent among her peers and guardian of the Nightward.

This world is matriarchal, with men excluded from positions of leadership and trans people as a recognised class but with a mildly awkward social position. The current queen of the High Court of Dun is a reformer, attempting to change the status quo, but her push for change goes too far for some and not far enough for others, while the borders of Gailand are threatened by the Ragat Army – the armed forces of a patriarchal society excluded from Gailand and believed to have no magic.

This is not all obvious from the beginning, but the picture begins to emerge as we follow The Nightward’s protagonists. Viella, a preteen princess, the “Spirit of Gaiea” (the title for the heir presumptive to the Hand of Gaiea) and her bodyguard, Luka, a man of good intentions and immense energy, frustrated to be babysitting a wilful princess rather than serving with the army (the elite women of the Dahomei, magic-wielding warriors, and the men of the Daguard, who aren’t seen as quite at their level) in the face of a Ragat incursion.

On the eve of the ceremony that would have confirmed Viella in her role as her mother’s heir, an alliance of competing factions within the court conspire to assassinate the queen and bring in the Ragat to support a coup – and unleash the Dark power of the Nightward to further their aims, using Viella’s twin brother Valan first as an unwitting pawn and then as a coerced one. These factions may have competing visions for the future of Gailand, but that matters very little to Luka, who flees with Viella to save her life, in search first of safety and then of aid to restore Viella to her court. But dark and terrible forces last seen in the Age of Chaos pursue them, and the magic (Gaiea’s gift, or blessing, or boon) that should have come to Viella with her mother’s fall is nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, Luka has secrets of his own – about his heritage and abilities – that he feels he must keep hidden from the abrasive, intensely competent Dahomei who’s joined them on the road trip from hell.

Relationships, particularly familial or family like relationships, are front and centre in The Nightward. At the court of Dun, in the wake of the coup, the relationships between Valan, his father, and his father’s would-be lover, one of the coup plotters, is central to events, while Valan’s grandmother Frances and her relationships – and her ability to forge relationships – are key to op­posing it. Viella, initially irritated with Luka as her bodyguard, comes to cling to him as her one trustworthy rock amid the tumult and danger that her life has become, while Luka, at first frustrated to be doing something as passive as fleeing with the queen-in-waiting when he’d much rather be taking an active role in fighting back, comes at first grudgingly and later wholeheartedly to embrace the importance of his role as caregiver as well as a protector, and to open up to the possibility of emotional connection. All the while, other characters – from generals and queens to river spirits – are working in their own ways to oppose the destructive forces that the coup has unleashed.

It’s clear, in the end, that while the world of The Nightward looks fantastical, it’s underpinned by a science-fictional logic. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic at a glance, and – though it may, in the end, be science fantasy – Garcia is playing with nanotechnology and the hinted remnants of what looks like cor­porate dystopia in a really fascinating dialogue with the trappings of epic fantasy. This fruitful and playful fusion of ideas and approaches recollects some of the playfulness of Garcia’s most recent (wry, deeply observed) short fiction – such as the 2023 Nebula Award winner “Tante Merle and the Farmhand 4200” or “Mid-Earth Removals Limited” – and so does its approach to family and community. No one in The Nightward is an isolated actor: They all exist within webs of connection, even when they turn against those connections.

Garcia writes with deft vigour, creating com­pelling characters and a clear sense of a world bursting with history and possibility, drama and threat. It’s a fast and entertaining read, and I’m fascinated to see where the characters will go – and how Garcia will continue to play with the interpenetration of science fiction and fantasy! – in the next volume.

[newberyandchai]

When You Trap a Tiger (2020)

I chose When You Trap a Tiger as my first Newbery Medal winner to read for several reasons. First, the cover looked colorful and enticing. Second, it was a newer book that I thought might give me a good idea of what more modern children's literature is like.

...And third, it was about a girl with Korean ancestry, which reminded me of a book I finished a few years ago called Pachinko. The book details three generations of a Korean family living in Japan and the hardships they faced while being treated as second-class citizens. I don't know a lot about Korean history, so I was curious if this book would give any insight into that from a child's perspective.

And I was kind of right, in a way. The story is largely about interpersonal relationships — the main character Lily's changing relationship with her sister Sam as they both grow older; Lily's halmoni (Korean for grandmother) keeping the magic of childhood and her culture alive for her granddaughter while attempting to hide her terminal illness; and Lily's mother, who has been uptight and distant since the death of Lily and Sam's father.

Their heritage colors every part of their relationships with one another. Sam wants Lily to grow up and stop being childish for still wanting to follow and believe in the more mystical aspects of Korean culture, such as leaving out food for spirits (although it's later revealed that Sam snuck out on multiple occasions to scatter rice and protect against the same spirits she claimed to not believe in).

Halmoni is the only one who believes Lily when Lily confesses she's been seeing tigers that no one else can see. However, Lily doesn't defend her in front of some boys in the neighborhood who call her halmoni a "crazy witch lady" and ask Lily if she curses people. Lily later regrets not saying anything in defense of her halmoni, but it's clear she struggles in that moment with understanding the full weight of the stigmas and assumptions that come with being Korean in modern Western society.

Lily's mom sees Halmoni's talk of spirits and rituals as just a symptom of the brain cancer Halmoni is suffering from, as though those things are just part of a fantasy land her mother is living in at the end of her life. To her, those old stories are like Santa Claus: you grow up believing in them, but you eventually come to find they aren't real and move on to more practical things. But this book asks, "What if they were?", all told through the eyes of a girl in that confusing transitional period between childhood and teenhood.

Instead of Korean history, I got a sense of how cultural practices and traditions change through time and across places, as well as how those things are both perceived and preserved in modern times.

For example, Lily gets to see the full spectrum of how her halmoni is viewed by the rest of the town:

As a helpful spiritual expert, but only to the townsfolk who also believe in pseudoscience like TV psychics.

As the crazy lady who curses people to the other kids Lily's age.

As a poor sick woman who should be pitied because she still follows spiritual practices.

There are so many other aspects of this book I could talk about — the stereotype of the Quiet Asian Girl that Sam wants Lily to rebel against, the "bad stories" Lily her grandmother stole from the tigers in her youth that Lily returns to them, and Sam's relationship with Lily from Sam's perspective...

...but in short, I teared up twice near the end and read the whole thing in one day. It's written very simply for a younger audience, but I had forgotten how many different themes can be conveyed while staying under a 4th-grade reading level.

The verdict? 8/10 and certified Recommendable.

[queertomycure]

“Invisible bonds- Stories of Absence, Resurgence, and the Everlasting Love Within”

Deep within her heart, a tale of longing unfurled, resonating with the pain of a child abandoned in a world devoid of enduring love. Though she had believed their presence to be constant, a guiding light in her life, the truth whispered a different narrative. The love they professed, like shattered melodies, could never form a harmonious whole. Even in her tender years, she understood the fragility of her father's health and her mother's undying devotion to his care. But beneath the surface of their affection, cracks had formed, threatening to splinter their bond.

In an attempt to compensate, they showered her with material possessions, appeasing society's expectations. Clothes adorned her frame, shoes graced her feet, and her education, food, and desires were all attended to. Isn't that what good parents are supposed to do? Isn't it a given that parents would go to great lengths for their children, driven by love? But why did her experience feel so different? They shielded her from the fate that befell her relatives' children, proclaiming their sacrifices for her and the family. However, hidden away since the year 2007, their true presence had been absent. She was there, a silent observer of their absence, a void that left her yearning for their love.

Within the confines of her own home, surrounded by those who claimed kinship, she endured the cruelties inflicted upon her vulnerable soul. Their supposed care and concern were mere illusions, overshadowed by their involvement in political games and power struggles. When she sought solace during times of change, she longed for their support and guidance, yet received only harsh words and punishment. As a child, her dreams and aspirations were limited to their narrow perspectives, stifling her curiosity and denying her the chance to explore the world beyond their confines.

In the darkness that permeated her sanctuary, she suffered unspeakable violations, both physical and mental, within the walls of her own house. Her pleas for help fell on deaf ears as her own family ignored her torment. She turned to her mother, the one who held the potential for solace, only to be met with hushed pleas for silence in order to preserve the fragile facade of family unity. The daily anguish continued unabated, while her parents remained oblivious to the pain consuming her.

She knew she didn't deserve the mere minimum of parenthood they offered, yet she carried a glimmer of gratitude for the fragments of care they bestowed. However, their absence in her life had transformed her into someone unrecognizable, a person lost in the depths of their loneliness. The weight of her existence became unbearable, pushing her to the brink of self-destruction. Her love for her parents restrained her, tethering her to life, but their absence left a void that seemed insurmountable.

In the shadows of her shattered world, a new chapter unfolded, revealing the agony of a lost soul yearning for the warmth of a mother's embrace. For a brief moment, the illusion of a complete mother materialized, offering a glimmer of hope to her desolate heart. Yet, sorrow remained her constant companion as she navigated the stormy waters of grief, grappling with the weight of her father's departure and her escape from a toxic relationship that had enveloped her in darkness. The events unfolded like a tempest, overwhelming her fragile spirit and leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty. But even in the depths of despair, she found the strength to rise, becoming a symbol of resilience, standing tall on the edge of her own salvation. The money she received, some of the material possessions that adorned her life, were reminders of a man she once called uncle—a figure from her childhood, a fatherly presence to a dear friend. However, the veil of innocence was lifted, exposing the disturbing exchange of words between him and her own mother. This revelation shattered the trust that held their family together. Her mother crumbled when confronted, devastated by the known truth. But the wounds inflicted upon her child's heart ran deeper still, for only six months had passed since her father's physical departure, yet his lingering presence remained strong.

Her mother's words, like tendrils of deception, wove tales of multiple men, each admission piercing her daughter's fragile soul with half truth. Behind the facade of a political profession, the truth remained concealed—a hunger for attention, a willingness to deceive while engaging with other men. This revelation struck her to her core, surpassing the boundaries of physical pain and gnawing at the essence of her being. Over the years, she had longed for her mother's presence, yearning for a connection that always seemed just out of reach. Though she was often alone, true loneliness was a foreign feeling. Yet, in her present reality, she found herself without a job, subjected to harsh comments from a judgmental world that questioned her purpose. She had proven her resilience in surviving, but the emptiness within her seemed insurmountable, an abyss that defied filling.

She vowed never to forget, nor would she find forgiveness in her wounded heart. The absence she endured, the shadows that marred her self-worth, the meager strands of love interwoven into her existence—each betrayal left an indelible mark on her soul. The masks they wore, their words that drained her spirit, their ignorance of her suffering—she held them accountable forever. Yet, amidst the pain, a glimmer of gratitude remained, for they had kept her alive, even if it meant forcing a smile upon her weary lips. Every action she took, seemingly self-centered, was rooted in a profound love for them, bound by an unyielding connection. It was the weight of her hardships that obscured the truth.

In the depths of her anguish, a whispered wish stirred within her heart—a longing for escape, a release from the entangled web of fractured bonds. In her final moments, she yearned to find solace with Hope and Jeje Maa, seeking refuge in their ethereal embrace, free from the shadows cast by those who had failed her.

[ryttu3k]

Tavias' timeline. Spoiler warning for Dark Urge's entire... everything, and content warning for Dark Urge's entire... everything, up to and including murder, ritualistic sex and murder (1460), more murder, lots of murder, cannibalism (1460-1461), incest (1463 and 1478, Orin's parentage, and other attempts by Sarevok), transitioning but it's via a murder god (1482), scarification (1482), dissociation (1482), cults (1491 onwards), experimentation (1492), and, just for flavour, a bit of murder.

1460: In an attempt to create a new, 'pureblooded' Bhaalspawn, the Cult of Bhaal feeds cultists Aracaryl (elf) and her husband Lem (human) a sliver of a sliver of Bhaal's own preserved flesh, allowing Bhaal's spirit to temporarily take over their bodies while they reproduce. When they conceive, Aracaryl ritually kills Lem and consumes his body, so to keep her strong during her pregnancy.

1461: Tavias is born. Aracaryl is ritually killed and her blood fed to the newborn Tavias, who is then sent away to be raised by foster parents, under the pretense that he was abandoned at birth. He is watched over by the cult as he grows up, who subtly influence him as he grows.

1463: Orin is born to Sarevok and his daughter Helena, to be raised amongst the cult. Helena's mother is a doppelganger; Orin inherits her abilities.

1472: 11-year-old Tavias, who has been showing violent urges his entire life, kills his foster parents. Considered to have passed a test, he is taken in officially by the cult, where he immediately clashes against his new 'sister' Orin, who until then had been the cult's golden child. With a fresh start, he begins presenting full time as a boy. Tavias is assigned Sceleritas Fel as a butler, guardian, and teacher.

1477: 16-year-old Tavias goes on a wild murder spree, unlocking his Slayer form. He continues to be a highly effective weapon for the Bhaalists, although he does show occasional morals that require Sceleritas' intervention, and begins taking more and more duties over from Sarevok, becoming known as 'the Dragon of Bhaal'.

1478: Sarevok, bitter at being usurped by a teenager, starts pitting Orin and Tavias against each other more, as well as Orin against Helena, with the intention of finding the strongest out of his daughter, [grand]daughter, and little brother, and using them to start propagating a new line of Bhaalspawn. Tavias threatens Sarevok that if he tries to lay a hand on him, he'll get retribution so bloody even Bhaal would think it a bit excessive, and largely banishes him to running the Murder Tribunal but not much else.

1482: Abdel Adrian and Viekang, the last remaining Bhaalspawn from the 1369 crisis, die, and Bhaal is reborn. Impressed by Tavias' actions five years earlier, Bhaal names him his Chosen. The murderous impulses Tavias has been experiencing for much of his life become the Urge, including periods of dissociation. Bhaal uses magic to shape Tavias' body more in line with his self-image and carves Tavias' facial scars personally, which Tavias sees as a high honour.

Late 1480s: Tavias starts scheming on how to seize control of Faerun and eventually Toril.

1491: Leading a heist to the House of Wonders with Enver Gortash, Tavias and Gortash find their commonalities and begin an alliance. They are visited by Bhaal and Bane, who name them their Chosen (with Bhaal confirming his earlier decision), and instructs them to seek out Ketheric Thorm, Chosen of Myrkul. Tavias and Gortash begin a romantic relationship.

1492: 31-year-old Tavias and Gortash, on a trip to Moonrise Towers, discover the illithid colony beneath it. Gortash comes up with a scheme to use the Elder Brain as part of a unified cult. The Chosen, led by Tavias, steal the Crown of Karsus and imprison the Elder Brain using three Netherstones, starting the Cult of the Absolute. After the Brain is subdued, Orin attacks Tavias, leaving him tadpoled and for dead, and taking his Netherstone and place as Chosen. He is experimented on, waking with complete amnesia on the Nautiloid.

Tavias, the Dark Urge | Wood Half-Elf | Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer | STR 8 DEX 12 CON 14 INT 12 WIS 14 CHA 16 | Cult Leader (on medical leave)

[redrobin-detective]

Ben 10 lore that exists in my heart regardless of canon

- Ben’s personality in his mid-late teens is a mix of his Alien Force and Omniverse self. On the surface, he’s very cheerful and kind even if he is a bit of arrogant showoff. He makes jokes and plays around and acts as if he isn’t bothered by the things in his life. Those who know him best understand a good portion of his outward confidence and cockiness is just a facade to cover up his insecurities and to project the ideal, effortless hero. While sometimes seen as immature, most beings know Ben 10 means business as he takes his unofficial job and people’s safety very seriously. He’s clever, adaptable, charismatic and empathetic which makes him a formidable opponent and a loyal friend. Doesn’t open up easily but if you get to him, he become so dearly attached. 

- Drinks smoothies so much for several reasons. Comfort food go brrr, reminds him of the good easy times with him Gwen and Kev. It’s also a light but generally nutritous food to give him energy for heroing. Anything too heavy and he’ll be puking (both from physical and emotional stress). Though he jokes about his mom’s health foods, his are a crazy concoction of add in proteins and vitamins/minerals bc he knows he’ll out and out collapse without it. (Still has on occasion bc boy still doesn’t eat right/enough)

- While Fame is exciting for him at first he soon begins to detest it. Not the fans, no, he can’t bring himself to hate the people who look up to him. But he hates the constant attention, that he can’t walk outside without being mobbed. the only place he feels safe is his hometown where most people are so used to him and his weirdness that they don’t react much anymore. Takes to wearing a cape and face shield when going out anywhere so he can actually get things done without being recognized and mobbed.

- Part of the reason Bellwood isn’t concerned with Ben is partially because ben’s been weird and alien for as long as they can remember but also many don’t realize how famous/powerful he is. Yeah that’s just Ben Tennyson over there, sometimes he turns into funny creatures- wait what do you MEAN he’s the savior of the universe?? He cried over a spilled smoothie the other day.

- Does mostly online schooling by the time he’s 15. At first he tries to do half day things to maintain something of a normal life but it quickly becomes overwhelming and dangerous him/the school. Finishes his GED early but the Plumbers and Azmuth make him take additional college level and alien courses to prepare him for his future role. Ben gripes but really does love learning all these things, especially on his terms (ADHD and stress + the public school system do not always go hand in hand). He’s a quick learner when he deems the information important and is made accessible to his learning needs.

- Ben definitely has ADHD speaking of which, it was nearly uncontrollable as a child bc his free-spirited parents didn’t believe in medicating. Ben convinced them he needed it and after some trial and error, found meds that worked. As he became more involved in heroics/growing up he had to change his medicine regimen (resulting in him being a bit more off the rails in OV) and needed antidepressants and therapy to manage it better. As an adult he has a whole litany of coping mechanisms (good and bad yes) and regularly checks in with his therapist and doctors to keep things under control. 

- Has a complicated relationship with his necrofriggian children. Considers himself their mother and worries after them. They too feel a connection to their parent despite this being unusual for their species. A few visit (some more than others) while they grow while others maintain distance. Ben never breathes a word of them to the media for fear of them being targeted. Still he keeps an eye on them and ensures all 14 mature to adulthood (another rarity for the species). Checks in every now and again with the ones who don’t want to see him and those that do. Two join the Plumbers and Ben is both proud and worried. His youngest becomes partners with Rook Ben.

- Just in general loves kids, they’re his favorite fans and while he’ll grumble at pushy adult fans he always smiles and kneels down for the little ones. Not so secretly wanted to have children of his own but knew it was a risk overall and used a lot of that energy with mentoring and teaching. Eventually had Kenny later in life (late 30s-40s) and was over the moon, becoming such a loving and doing parent or as much as he could be with his hectic schedule. 

- Omnitrix can’t come off, never has at any point since it first latched onto Ben’s arm. Azmuth tried and failed to get the device off, doesn’t let Ben know for many years as he feared the consequences. The watch loves and protects Ben even beyond it’s programming making him much more durable to damage and releasing energy charges when he’s threatened. Not even removing Ben’s arm would separate them. They’re stuck for life.

- Ben does have Anodite heritage but the Omnitrix actively suppresses it and uses the built up energy to power the transformations which is why ben is mostly unaffected by what should cause a massive energy drain on him. Theoretically if Ben learned to harness and safely use his Mana at an early age like Gwen he would have been fine but letting it build up without safe outlet meant activation would have killed him. Omnitrix Ben, however, went his whole life not knowing of his latent abilities and how the watch saved his life.

- Ben’s eyes get more green and glowy as time passes from the Omnitrix. At first they think its a trick of the light but by the time he’s an adult his eyes are pretty much glow in the dark. His veins light up too after long stretches of using the Omnitrix. Its vaguely unsettling to people who aren’t used to Ben.

- Max and the Earth Plumbers work so, so hard to keep teen Ben on Earth when half the universe is blowing up their comm lines asking for The Ben 10 to help with whatever problem of the day. Ben himself doesn’t quite understand when he’s younger the prestige and expectations on his shoulders. Max throws up a million and one roadblocks so Ben can live as normal a life as possible while he still can. Still, while doing that he Still overloads Ben with expectations and responsibilities on earth and beyond. He becomes a soldier again with Ben as their greatest weapon. He never forgave himself of losing sight of his grandson underneath the hero esp after Ben’s breakdown. 

- Rook partnership with Ben ends not long after Omniverse with his promotion to Magister. Ben tries to play it cool but the thought of another loved one/teammate leaving his tears him apart. Max revealing that Ben most likely wouldn’t get a new Plumber assigned partner since he’s almost an adult and won’t need it and Rook accidentally missing their last smoothie run due to a scheduling mishap causes Ben to snap and have the nervous breakdown that had been building for almost a decade. He completely loses it for a little while and needs to take an extended leave of absence from school and heroics that lasts about a year. Spends time recovering both on Earth and Galvan Prime, does some diplomatic training, learns about aliens, actually confronts the stress and loneliness of his life. He comes out the other side stronger but still fragile and exhausted.

- Ben’s above mentioned breakdown brings him closer to all his friends who didn’t quite realize the extent of Ben’s burden. Rook had been under the impression Ben didn’t like him all that much so the knowledge that his departure was the final straw for friend/hero’s collapse was shocking. Ben and Azmuth also become closer, the Galvan becoming fiercely protective of the boy seeing as his Earth family didn’t do well to keep him safe. It takes years for him to get over his anger at Max for putting so much on his grandchild. Ben makes more friends, in and out of the hero business, finally gets a therapist and gets some of his burdens eased a bit. It’s not a sure fire fix and Ben has several smaller breakdowns the rest of his life but its something.

- Azmuth was straight up suicidal before he met Ben for the first time. Ben gave him back hope for the universe and his ability to create items for peace not weapons. The boy infuriates him, frightens him, frustrates him but Azmuth cannot deny in his heart of hearts that he loves Ben dearly. He’s very upset at Ben’s breakdown and doesn’t know how to handle the worst of the initail outbursts. Azmuth talks Ben down from a suicide attempt. He reaches out to Ben that he Too felt overwhelmed by pressure, thought himself only good for war. Ben’s arrival in his life saved him and now he will do the same for Ben. It’s the first positive step forward in Ben’s recovery.

- For no other reason than I like it, Azmuth primarily refers to Ben as Benjamin (mostly to annoy the kid but he likes the way it sounds too) and Ben in softer, more serious moments. 

- Professor Paradox continues to flit in and out of Ben’s life. He says its because Ben is the most equipped to handle universal peril (true) but he’s also just very fond of the boy. Ben, existing in so many forms and having such importance also exists a beat outside of normal reality which Paradox identifies with. Ben is naturally attuned to time related problems because of this (instantly IDing Spanner as from the future before being told later deducing him to be his unborn son). Plus Ben named him, way back when. He’s just drawn to Ben.

- Adult Ben, while being seen as an impressively skilled fighter and champion, really has his strength as a universal diplomat of sorts. Based out of Earth, he helps mediate and defuse conflicts, advocate against tyranny and overall preserve peace and balance. He’s not perfect, he makes mistakes and sometimes is forced to become violent (and yes kill) but overall is regarded as a peacekeeper, something younger ben simply couldn’t understand. 

- Gwen gets her degree and primarily does work with advocacy and teaching about magic/alien culture. While she and Ben are still close, there’s a bit of a frustrated divide in that she isn’t helping him share the burden of the universe. Gwen never wanted to be a hero and has enough worth to not shackle herself to a job that’ll burn her out. Ben loves heroing but gives too much of himself away trying to fix everything. They get into screaming arguments that it wouldn’t be so bad out there if she just helped him but she refuses to budge and says he shouldn’t make himself do so much. They always make up and thy still are each other’s closest relationships.

- Ben marries Kai in a political move, Kai is Asexual and Ben Aromantic. They didn’t love each other but they got on well enough and Ben was really feeling the stress of carrying the hero burden so Kai also being involved made him feel like he wasn’t alone. Both were also so tired of the universe constantly asking about their love life and said ‘fuck it we’re married leave us alone’. Gwen was always mad about it feeling Ben deserved better but the two of them were happy with it. They had separate rooms, mostly separate lives but they became strong friends and supports with their strictly platonic marriage. They had Ken via Invitro in an incubator and were loving if extremely busy parents. 

- Also from the moment he appeared, Ben knew that Spanner was his future son, Kenny. He played ignorant and then was kind of deliberately teasing him in future encounters. He knew the rules of time and didn’t want to disrupt things further even if he was angry and worried as heck about why Ken felt the need to time travel. When future Ben catches up in the timeline, Kenny gets SUCH a lecture. 

- Ben isn’t quite immortal but he’s also not entirely human anymore either. The Omnitrix not only keeps him safe from most harm but it lightens the effect of aging. Ben 10 is active many, many years when most humans would have been forced to retire. He’s not sure how long the watch will keep him alive and it terrifies him. Gwen too is functionally immortal however she ages like a normal human, then when her natural death came, shed her skin and became a fulltime Anodite. So in the end, it was her and Ben together wondering which of them will die first. Gwen has trouble retaining her humanity as pure energy and swears she’ll let herself fizzle out when Ben goes. When that’ll be however...

[thesynaxarium]

Today we celebrate the Holy New Martyr Aquilina of Zagliberi. Saint Aquilina's father denounced his faith and became a muslim out of fear when his daughter was still young. Her mother raised her a Christian, and taught her never to abandon her faith. When Aquilina came of age, the Muslim authorities pressured Aquilina's father to convert his daughter to Islam. When she heard this, she utterly refused, wishing to die rather than deny her faith. She was subject to torture, but this did not shake her faith. They then attempted to win her over with flattery, riches and even a prince to marry, however she remained steadfast in her faith. Eventually, they tortured her so harshly, they left her for dead in the court. Her mother collected her body, and noticing she was still alive, asked her daughter, "what have you done, my child?" To which she replied, "behold, I have preserved the confession of my Faith, just as we agreed.” With these words, she gave up her spirit. On the way to the cemetery, a divine light shine upon her holy relics which also emitted a heavenly fragrance. May the holy New Martyr intercede for us always + #saint #aquilina #akylina #akilina #newmartyr #martyr #turk #turkishoccupation #christian #islam #muslim #convert #faith #orthodox #saintoftheday (at Zaglivérion, Thessaloniki, Greece) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ci_vfNCDd_-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[valleyfthdolls]

IM ASKING ABOUT YOUR FNAF AU. IM ASKINV ABLUT IT -vanny you know the one

THANK YO U .

So my fnaf au I’ve been calling the Christmas Kids AU, because I have an obsession with I Can’t Handle Change.

The main characters (and my weird nicknames for them) are as follows:

Michael Afton (“the son and heir”)- Michael is basically the same as in canon. He’s William’s oldest son and his kind of favorite, and he holds a LOT of guilt over not only his siblings’ deaths and the bite, but also over the missing children in general and William’s actions. Following being scooped by Baby, he uses the remnant William harvested from the missing kids to keep himself alive, but he only does so to prevent himself from dying before he can stop William. He was 14 in 1983, and 21 when he was scooped, which is where his body has been permanently preserved. His spirit possesses Glamrock Freddy during Security Breach.

Cassidy Afton (“the vengeful spirit”)- Cassidy is the youngest of the Afton family, born in 1974. He is autistic and generally very unlike others, leading to him being alienated and bullied heavily, with very few friends. He was William’s least favorite child, mostly due to his high intelligence despite his young age meaning it was hard to manipulate him the way he did to Elizabeth and Michael, which made it especially bad when Cassidy began claiming he’d witnessed a child get “eaten” by an animatronic and killed. While he wasn’t supposed to die, William held no contempt for Michael after Cassidy’s death on his ninth birthday, believing it was better off if Cassidy was dead. He just didn’t stay dead.

Elizabeth Afton (“the turtle girl”)- Elizabeth is the middle child and the only daughter of the Afton family. Before their mother left in October of 1982, Elizabeth was her mother and father’s favorite. Amalie, her mother, simply thought she was the sweetest girl in the world, and William saw her loyalty as a good beginning to make her a perfect child and a successor. Despite her sweet demeanor, due to her parental issues she had a harsh mean streak and struggled to get along with her peers. The lengths she went to earn approval and love ended up with her pegged as a bad kid in most people’s eyes, but she kept up a superficial reputation as a sweet and loving girl. She absolutely adored her father and his work, but her favorite things were dolls and circuses, which ultimately inspired the Funtime animatronics.

William Afton (“the shadow man”)- Pretty similar to canon William. He’s a garbage dad, horribly manipulative, and obsessed with control. He always wants to control everything around him, especially who lives and who dies.

The five missing children (“the gifts”)- Each child was killed from 1982 to 1985, and the five of them- Charlie, Susie, Jeremy, Gabriel and Mitzi (nicknamed Fritz)- each possess one of Fazbear’s main animatronics (including The Puppet). Each of them, slowly losing their grip on themselves and their sanity, target and attack any adult they can get their hands on in an attempt to find closure. Charlie, absolutely terrified of what’s become of them all, is the one who brought the other four back to life to try and save their souls. Cassidy did it himself though.

My phones at 1% I’ll talk more about it later if it doesn’t die

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (Part 1): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: matchmaking day is upon you, and you’re in for more than just a partner. 

wc: 2.1k

tw: none - just a bunch of backstory. (part 2 is going to be much more interesting and Geto WILL appear.)

masterlist

The trees along the grounds of your family’s estate are blooming in full force, once again signaling the coming of the most anticipated day of the year: matchmaking day. Beautiful petals of yellow, red, and pink would decorate the lawn and as a child, you would gather them up and toss them around. You imagined your wedding would be just as majestic as the coming of spring and that matchmaking day would be the happiest day of your life. 

For years, you had watched your older siblings be married off to wonderful and loving partners, their names being called from the crowd of people who gathered in the village square every year. For years, you eagerly waited your turn to meet the love of your life. And last year - the year before you were set to make your debut in the matchmaking pool - you found him. 

The man you wanted to be set up with - Yuko Hashinara - was perfect. 

As the son of a potter, he wasn’t filthy rich, but for a whole six months, you dipped your hands into the kaolin just to get closer to him. Yuko seemed to take a liking to you too, his soft features and green eyes following you around the workshop while you made conversation or giggled over town gossip. He had even touched your hand tenderly once; the white clay smearing over your fingers with care. He hadn’t admitted that he loved you, but today would change all of that. 

“Mother! What should I wear?” All of the formal wear in your closet now seemed too plain for what you planned on being your debut into society as Yuko’s Betrothed. You no longer had the scores of clothing your sisters offered or the keen eye of your eldest brother. It was just you now, and as the youngest, there was a need to show everyone you were just as worthy as your siblings of a perfect match. 

Your mother bustles in hastily, attempting to fix your hair while you rifle through the clothing that’s available to you. ���Don’t wear red; only whores wear red. Perhaps the hunter green one will do.” When you pull out the silk garment your mother detailed, your shoulders fall a bit, noting it’s plainness. 

“But will this look attractive for Yuko?” you wonder, trying to see the dress in better lighting. Gold and brown swirls decorate the dress around the neck and hemline but it still looks inelegant. “You know, like I’m supposed to be his wife?” Your mother’s hands still on your hair, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve said something wrong.

“This dress will look beautiful on you, like it did on your grandmother when she was matched with her husband.” Ah, yes. Grandmother. At the mention of the old matriarch, you’re silenced immediately, recalling the love she and your grandfather had upon their union. “We should only hope you are as lucky as she was to find a worthy match.” 

“Yuko is a ‘worthy match’,” you retort, but your mother doesn’t reply, finishing your hairdo and stepping back to admire her handiwork. 

“Now let’s get you dressed; we don’t have a lot of time.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

When you arrive in the square with the other girls of the village, there is an uproar of chatter about who would be matched with who, and whether or not the matchmaker would be fair to some of the older girls who had never been matched with before. 

You’re not overly friendly with any of the others gathered - due to your family’s estate being on the far side of the main village and as such, every trip into town required a long trek - but you’re welcomed nonetheless. As you stand in the cool, spring breeze, your eyes roam around the boys who were gathered on the left side of the square. Your eyes fall upon Yuko, and a sigh escapes your lips, your mind fluttering off to begin fantasies of the rest of your lives together. You would have an extravagant wedding, a lavish reception, and an equally attention-bringing birth of your first born: a son you’d already named in your head. 

But as soon as you get to the day your son would take his first steps, the sound of the matchmaker’s voice echoes across the courtyard. She was short - very short - with small, beady eyes, and white hair that feel in a braid down her back. Her wrinkled skin holds all of the years she performed this ceremony, and you’re sure if you stare long enough that she might even shrink a little.

“We will now begin the matchmaking ceremonies with a prayer…” Your nerves bundle up in your stomach as the old woman begins reciting a prayer to the gods that you completely ignore. Couldn’t she just say all of the names and then pray? What did the gods care about the order of things? 

It isn’t until you hear the soft murmurs of the women around you that you know it’s time to look up and resume your fretting about the pickings, which were sort of slim to begin with. 

“Kashishime Okkostua… and Junte Yakamura.” The first couple of the ceremony had been announced, and you look at the brightened expression of a woman in the sea of female faces, who excitedly approaches her betrothed with arms open wide. The following twenty or so names were read off with similar results; only a few couples do not already know each other, and they approach each other with a timidness you could only describe as painful to watch. 

“Yuko Hashinara and…” Oh, no, the time had already come. You look at the man who wrings his hands nervously, eyes glued to the matchmaker, while you hold your hands similarly, heart pounding beneath your dress wildly. The name of the woman falls from the matchmaker’s lips in slow motion, it seems, but it’s obviously not your name. 

It’s not me. 

It’s not me. 

It’s. 

Not. 

Me. 

Your first thought is to go numb. As you eye the female who emerges from the crowd, your self-preservation instincts take over, analyzing the way she looks while you fix your fallen countenance. She is nothing amazing to look at, you reason, but as they acknowledge each other and depart from the crowd, your heart goes with them, never to return to the hole in your chest. Not even a trade from another other-worldly spirit could bring it back. 

The rest of the day blows by you, and you don’t even hear a single syllable that sounds remotely like your name grace the tongue of the matchmaker. When she sets aside her papers, you and two other women are left standing in the square. 

One of them started crying long ago, her face puffy and red. The other crosses her arms and takes a glance at you, shrugging her shoulders disinterestedly. But you… you’re feeling as numb as a rock. You stare at the sand lining the pathway, unsure of what to say or how to feel other than empty. The matchmaker hobbles down from her perch to where you three are standing and looks all of you over once. When she opens her mouth, all you can hear is:

“... maybe next year.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Next year. That’s the only thought that bounces around your skull as you make the embarrassing trek back to your residence. Next year. 

But there wouldn’t be a next year. 

The one you wanted was already gone, and--

Your eyes lift slowly to the door of your family’s home. Never in your lifetime had you experienced such a painful moment, but you wouldn’t let anyone see you defeated. Even after your mother opens the door and witnesses your shuffle back into the house, you announce to her and your father stoically: “The matchmaker said next year would be the year,” and walk into your bedroom with nothing else to declare. 

The pillows on your bed muffle the sobs of your broken heartedness, and cover up the absolute humiliation you had suffered in front of the whole town. You wouldn’t speak of this day to anyone, not even your parents. Next year would be your year.

_______________________________________________________________________

Thunder rattles the windows of your house, and you stare at the various trees being stripped of their buds and flower petals in the pending storm though the panel in your bedroom. This is perfect weather for your mood, you note, and settle into the soft cushion beneath you with a sense of satisfaction. The world mirrors your inner turmoil with this storm, and you like the way the darkness swallows up the bright blue sky. 

“Y/n…” A tap on your door signals the arrival of your mother, but you don’t answer, preferring to stare out of the window at the destruction instead. “I’m coming in.” The door is pushed open with ease, and your mother waddles in, holding a bowl of your favorite soup. “I made some soup for you.” You look at the offering with disinterest,  eyes sliding away from the bowl and to the mirror across the room. 

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” you croak. You can’t see your reflection, but you know you look like a wreck. You had snatched out the bobby pins and ribbons in your hair after you cried, then stripped the dress off in haste, throwing it into the corner before dressing in a plain kimono to remain decent. You’re still in that same kimono, even though it’s been almost a day since you’d changed. 

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.” The keen observation doesn’t make your stomach growl. Instead, it’s like a stone is sitting in your gut, preventing you from even desiring food.

“I’ll be okay.” Your mother sits the soup down on your bedside table anyways, leaving you in peace just like she found you. A slight hiccup finds its way into your throat, and you want to cry, but you have no tears left at all. Your face is tight and raw, and you want to scrub at it to make it all go away… but you can’t. The matchmaker’s word is as good as a bond, and you can’t break that bond; not even if you tried. 

The sound of the front door rattling initially sounds like some aftereffect of the lightning and thunder rolling across the sky, but you notice that the windows hadn’t shook. The pounding sound echoes again, and you find the strength to slide to the edge of your bed, feet dangling in the air precariously. 

Your father would be there to get it, wouldn’t he? So why are you moving? Before you can question yourself further, you place your feet on the floor and pad to your bedroom door. Perhaps it was Yuko, and something had gone terribly wrong with his new wife. The thought makes you move even faster, your legs propelling you down the hallway and to the foyer, where your father stood with the door open to the rain. As you crane your head around the wall between the foyer and hallway, you see a figure bent over at the knees, catching their breath and mumbling erratically. 

“Can I help you?” your father asks the person, who’s head snaps up, flinging his long, white hair back and showing his startling blue eyes. He’s dressed as an Imperial Warrior in a black and red kimono and hakama with a white sash around his waist, which signifies his rank, but you don’t know what rank white is.

“Sir, I have come a long way,” he begins, panting still. “The Imperial Court is in need of your youngest daughter. I have ord--” Your father scoffs, not even entertaining the man at his feet by listening to his speech. 

“I’m sorry, but my youngest daughter is not a fighter,” he cuts the man off with his hand, but the man continues anyway.

“If you would please grant me entry into your home, I will be able to tell you the entire story. I am sure you will allow me this much upon seeing this.” Suddenly, the man reveals a water damaged envelope with the Imperial seal stamped upon it from his kimono. Your father looks at the document, but does not open it. 

“Come inside, then. I’m sure you’re weary from your travels. I’ll have my wife prepare you some dinner.” As your father lets the man inside, your peer a little closer at the soldier and find his sapphire orbs boring right into your soul. A charming half smile pulls at his lips, but he turns away to follow your father into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the foyer and to wonder who exactly was in your home and why.

[heliads]

I Need a Savior

Based on this request: "A songfic for My Demons by Starset? Stiles and the reader are twins. She’s a witch and part of Scott’s pack. The reader helps Scott and the others get rid of the nogitsune and save Stiles."

masterlist

There’s a video playing on your computer. You’re sitting before it, knees tucked up to your chest like you’re a child right now instead of watching yourself as one on the screen in front of you. Your eyes are glued to the two playing figures as if they’ll find some way to save you from the mess you’ve found yourself in, as if by watching what you used to have you’ll be able to have it all back once more.

You’re not alone in the video. The four-year-old Y/N rarely was, and in this particular video her laugh is joined by someone else- your twin brother, Stiles. He’s racing after you in a grassy backyard, in the midst of some no doubt momentous game of tag. He’s shouting something at the top of his tiny lungs as he goes, something about how he’ll always get back to you in the end. If only you could make that same promise now.

The video ends, but you still sit there, unable to move. It’s barely been a few days that your brother was fully possessed by the Nogitsune, but the loss still cuts at you like a knife. Stiles is your twin brother, older only by ten minutes or so. You’ve never had to go without him for longer than a few hours- he’s always there, at home or at school or at your father’s station. This, knowing that he’s somewhere within Beacon Hills but utterly gone to you, is an entirely different kind of pain.

A knock sounds at the door, and you look up to see your father hovering in the doorframe. His attempt at a reassuring smile drops as he sees the video still up on your screen. “I thought I heard voices.” You sigh. “I miss him, Dad. I miss Stiles.” Sheriff Stilinski sighs, walking inside the room at last. “So do I. We’re going to get him back, though. Don’t worry about that.”

You throw your hands in the air, frustrated. “We don’t know that! We don’t know that at all. This is so out of our range that it’s almost crazy. I mean, you barely even started to believe us about the supernatural. You didn’t trust us that werewolves existed, and now my brother has been possessed by a spirit that’s thousands of years old. None of us have any proof that we’re going to get him back.”

Your father winces for a second, then his expression smooths over again. “I’ve heard what you said about all your other exploits with Scott. He never gave up on anything or anyone, and I know you won’t either. None of us are giving up on Stiles, and even if it means that we have to play the long game to get him back, we will. Sure, I may not completely get why Scott McCall went from a kid with terrible asthma to a werewolf, but I know we won’t leave my son behind.”

His voice twists slightly as he says ‘my son’, and you’re hit with the distinct memory that you’re not the only one grieving someone you might have already lost. Yes, you lost your twin brother, but the sheriff lost his son. You can’t snap on him completely. So, you close your laptop screen, forcing the image of you and Stiles away into the darkness, and stand up. “What do you say we get some dinner? It’s late and I’m hungry.” Sheriff Stilinski nods, accepting this best attempt at an apology, and heads back downstairs. You’re left in the dark again, alone.

You can’t help but think through the whole thing over again. Your dad’s right- there’s no way Scott or you or anyone else is remotely considering letting Stiles go. You’ve seen Scott before, and you’ve known him for almost as long as he’s known your brother, so you know for a fact that he won’t give up until your twin is back and as he should be.

Besides, you’ve got another tool in your kit that will help you rescue Stiles- namely, your magic. You are a witch, just like the women in your family before you. Well, just like most of them. Your mother, Claudia, should have inherited the power of the family coven, but the magic seemed to skip over a generation and it went to you instead. Your grandmother kept the power of the witches a secret until it manifested in you a few years ago. You’ve learned spells from her, and you’re hoping that you’ll be able to use at least one of them to save Stiles.

This, actually, is what you find yourself doing the next day. Scott calls you up early, saying something in a rushed tone about how he found an old story about a healing spell in some dusty text in Deaton’s storage. You head over there immediately, and are surprised to find that Scott’s spell just might work. It’s fairly simple, as spells go, but it’ll take a lot out of you. In the spell, you’ll be able to peel back the Nogitsune’s control over Stiles, but you’re not sure that you’ll be able to completely eradicate the spirit’s presence from your brother’s mind, you don’t have enough power for that. Then again, even a brief reprieve for Stiles may help you save him.

So, you, Scott, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Kira, and the rest head down to where Stiles was last spotted. Derek’s waiting for you there, and he points wordlessly into the Beacon Hills preserve. “I think the Nogitsune is trying to find the Nemeton. He just went in there a few minutes ago.” You nod your gratitude, already slipping between the trees. You used to play in these very woods with your brother when you were small, doing your best to escape your father’s watch long enough to have some fun before the rules came crashing back down around you.

When you see Stiles at once, you almost wonder if you’ve stepped back into your memories. It makes no sense- surely, you should be able to tell that this is an ancient spirit and not your brother. You should know your twin by soul and heart and word, shouldn’t you? Yet, for that one moment, you want to run over to him, sure that Stiles has managed to shake the spirit possessing him and come back to you.

Then Stiles turns around, and you’re hit by a wave of utter wrongness. There’s no other way to describe it- this being is your brother in flesh, sure, but in nothing else. There is no soul in the eyes looking at you, no love or even familiarity in the gruesome smile twisting this thing’s lips. The body is your twin brother, but the mind, oh the mind is so far from being him that it’s almost repulsive.

The Not-Stiles leers at you from where he stands amongst the trees, taking a few steps towards you as if relishing your horror. “Ah. I see my sister has come to visit me.” You shake your head. “I’m not your sister. You’re not him.” The Nogitsune shrugs. “Well, I see I can’t fool you like the others. Unfortunate.” Scott and the others have reached you by now, and your old friend hands you a scanned copy of the spells. You take it wordlessly, although you notice that the Nogitsune’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the transferral of the document.

Seconds later, its voice rings out across the forest again, and you swear you can detect an almost nonexistentant strand of nervousness in the spirit’s voice. It’s as if it’s woven trepidation in with the usual array of emotions as it toys with Stiles’ vocal chords. “What’s that about?” You ignore it, beginning to read the spell. You can only hope that it will work, that it will clear the Nogitsune from Stiles’ mind long enough to speak with him.

You finish reading out the spell and stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. At first, it looks as if the spell hasn’t done anything at all, and then the boy in front of you that was previously not your brother spasms slightly, bending over at the waist. When he straightens, you know at once that Stiles is back. You run to him, unable to keep a slight sob from tearing its way out of your throat. “Stiles!”

He catches you in his arms. Stiles feels the same way he always has- your brother is well and truly back. He stammers at first, hand rising to his temples as if he can’t believe that he’s back in control once more. “Y/N- it’s me. I’m me.” You muffle another sob. “How are you? Are you okay?” A dark look crosses Stiles’ face now, so mute in its agony that you almost think the Nogitsune has come back to possess him once more.

“It’s bad, Y/N. It’s really bad. I keep trying to fight, but it’s like I’m going insane. Even now, I can feel it circling around me like a vulture.” He grabs at your hands now. “I need you to save me, Y/N. I’m becoming it.” You try to speak, but you can’t find the strength. Already, the power necessary to cast the spell is wearing at you; you’ll only be able to keep it up for so long.

Stiles seems able to sense this, and his voice takes on an additional note of urgency. “I need you to make everything okay again, Y/N. I can’t fight this forever.” You shake your head slightly, afraid to let him down yet knowing that you can’t do much more. “I’m not all-powerful, Stiles. I wish I was.” Something like a broken half-smile flits onto his face. “You’ve always been able to take my pain away, Y/N. Not like Scott, but because of you. We are one and the same, are we not? We’re twins. I know you can do this.”

The spell is clawing at you now, practically tearing you into pieces. You manage to fight it back. You can’t let him go yet- you just got Stiles back. “What can we do? How do I get you back?” Stiles looks panicked, as if he can physically feel the Nogitsune forcing its way back into his head once more. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I just need you, Y/N. Save me if I become this demon.”

Then you’re stumbling, lost in an intense thicket of pain. The spell is overwhelming you now, and through tears you release it, letting your thin veneer of control go once more. Scott and the others catch you before you fall, but you’re not paying attention to yourself anymore. No, you’re looking back at your brother, or the body of a boy that was once your brother. The Nogitsune is back, and all traces of Stiles can only be seen in his physical form once more. You feel like sobbing, like breaking down entirely, but you remember what Stiles asked you to do. You have to save him, and that is exactly what you intend on doing.

In the end, you do save him, along with Scott and the others. You barely have time to mourn Allison’s death before you’re plunged into yet another peril, this time to take the Nogitsune down for good. You end up separating from the pack as they go into battle, choosing instead to maintain protective spells around the area that will keep the Oni and other aspects of the Nogitsune from killing your friends. The cost of maintaining all of that magic is wearing on you, but you stand firm. When Scott calls out to you, asking you to give him one last ounce of strength or courage or anything, you do it. Anything to save your brother.

They come out of the school in the end. Walking with them is a dark-haired boy who’s been your friend since birth, someone who was there to take his first steps with you and make you laugh when no one else could. For a second, you draw back, terrified that after all of this the Nogitsune might still be lurking under some crevice of Stiles’ mind, ready to draw him back under again, but when your brother looks at you, you breathe a deep sigh of relief. It’s him. It really and truly is.

Before you can run to him, though, Scott is offering you a small container. “We trapped the Nogitsune inside it, but it could escape at any moment. Can you secure it?” You nod, the spell to contain the evil spirit already running through your head. A second earlier, you would swear that you didn’t have enough energy to levitate a feather, let alone trap a thousand-year-old spirit, but you’re not about to let any chance of harm come to your twin again.

When you finish the spell, you see Stiles straighten up beside you, as if one last chain binding him to the earth has been released, one final shackle broken. You carefully hand the now-bound contained to Scott, and wrap your arms around Stiles. He holds you tight for a second, then steps away, holding you at arm’s length as if he’s almost forgotten what you look like. “Thank you for helping me. Scott told me that you’ve been using your magic to save us.”

Scott nods fervently. “I don’t know that we could have done it without her. Her spells saved our asses several times over.” You can’t help but grin shakily at that. “I needed to get you back. Anything else didn’t really matter.” Stiles hugs you one last time. “Thank you, anyway.” You smile back at him. “Of course, we’re family. You’re my twin, I would do anything for you. Besides, you asked me to save you and so I did. We don’t have to be our demons anymore.”

teen wolf tag list: my savior @underc0vercryptid

[timeguardiansarchive]

Courting Danger

@sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins​ continued from X ​

        Careless words amble free of Rose’s far too spirited tongue. Immediately in their wake, her mother’s voice clouds her thoughts. She ought to be ashamed and thoroughly admonished for her haphazard ventures. Crimson lashes flitter downwards attempting to partially conceal the sheer terror housed in cerulean orbs. Her errant confession did not come without turbulent trepidation which, directly transfers into porcelain hands. Hands that had nowhere to hide the penting up nervous energy.

The socialite doesn’t even realize that her suffocated apology, along with her next inhale, had snared somewhere in the corridors of her throat. That is, until her lungs began to scorch. His calm voice dispells the plague of restlessness, bringing a foreign stillness to the turbulence inside of Rose. Her eyes snap upwards.

“Rose,” she whispers, praying that he’d see fit to use it. “Please.” Dewitt-Bukater belongs to her overbearing mother and deceased father. It is little more than a shadow; a stone anchor tethered about her throat dragging her towards death. A destination she no longer reaches for with the same desperation, thanks to his eternal kindness. So she opts to bridge familiarity with the Major who had rescued her.  “To... To court me?” She parrots, almost numbly before the meaning sinks in. No one had ever dared to seek her permission nor her opinion. Cal had always been assertive, taking command of every choice in her life. Major Hewlett was giving her a choice. The surprising commentary nearly causes a laugh to tumble through her parted lips. Just as she is about to reply, his words once more cause a hush to fall over her.  

A gentle hand? Astonishment warps Rose’s features and her eyes begin to flood. It was impressive how very different he was to Hockley who believed only in ironed-willed leadership with a forceful hand. He left her in control of nothing. It was bend to his will or be made to bend to his will. Words twist, sticking untactfully to the roof of her mouth. She has always been told that she needed a man who will order her every step, no matter how suffocating the promise of that was.

With her cerulean orbs still fixated upon him, she ventures a step closer. Freedom is now in her grasp, if only she will reach out and clutch it. Shattered, Rose’s breath dispels over the plump curve of her lip. It is hedged with the anxiety of making her own choices intermingled with a new-found confidence. That’s what the major did for her. He restored her faith in humanity, in herself. He didn’t make her feel like a burdensome imbecile or hapless child. She was intelligent and whole. Smiling, she offers her reply with a bashfully dipped head. “I had, until this very moment, been wishing for something I knew I could never have.” Lifting her head slightly, she continued, “that is you.” This moment felt far too blissfully wonderful to be true. “I don’t remember what it is like to court anyone. So, if you will find it in yourself to be patient with me, I should love to give it a shot.” With her words, Rose realizes just how oppressive Hockley’s reign had been. That she hardly knows who she is apart from the cruel man’s shadow. What if she’d be found unworthy of the Major? What if she only deserved a wealthy tyrant? She shakes her head of crimson coils softly. Her mother’s voice could not be the only one taking up space in her mind. Rose had no need for abundant wealth, nor for polite society; both money and the company of the upper echelon were overrated. She couldn’t be subjected to more brainless parties and cotillions or she’d just about jump into the frozen Sound.

A trembling hand reaches for his arm. “I can offer you nothing.” Rose mournfully reveals. Oh, how her mother would be mortified if such knowledge was gifted a suitor. The Dewitt-Bukater name was little more than a hollow, penniless legacy though they still gave off airs of prosperity. The charade was more to preserve her mother’s standing than bolster her own. “I come to you destitute and with sullied reputation. I can’t even cook or clean very well---” If he was taking a leap of faith being honest with her, she felt she must do the same for him. But she did have one thing working in her favor. Or well, she hoped she had one good thing in her favor. A thing known as loyalty. At least, towards those who treat her with respect. All of society would talk. Yet, Rose knew the gossip would abound anyways. She abandoned Hockley at the alter in York City and ran. Rose ran so far that the grasp society held on her could be shaken. 

[lisinfleur]

Shelter

The request:

Author’s Notes | I took the chance for Day Felice’s new album and wrote it while listening to their song Shelter, if you guys want to listen to it while reading as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! (And the song too haha). Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon. Words | 1878 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions to child abuse and abandonment. Wounds, blood, and some angst.

His chariot noise was always something that would help his mind to ease after any kind of arguing. And with his wife, it wasn't different. This morning he’d left after a huge discussion with her.

Why was Y/N so worried about a slave child?

Ivar insisted several times she should just forget the thing and let it go. It wasn't their responsibility! And more: by taking leftovers and water for that child every night, she was only making the little thing's suffering longer!

"It would be dead already if it wasn't for you, feeding it every night!" he remembered trying to insist.

But Y/N's was stone-headed! Every single night, there was his queen, dressing her cloak and leaving his castle - once a former church - to visit the thing that now wasn't moving places, of course.

Someone was feeding it, helping it, all the time! Why would it be stupid and leave it behind?

Ivar was getting used to passing by that child every day as if the girl was some kind of door or local decoration. But not for his wife. Not his Y/N and her heart blessed by Frigg.

She was a natural mother. He knew that! It was one of the reasons he chose her the love Y/N would show for any child she could have around.

But when she came with that stupid idea, it went too far for him.

"I'm going to take her home."

A thing.

A useless thing that wouldn't serve not even as a slave, so thin it was.

They've discussed it for hours. Ivar screamed at Y/N she was insane, perhaps touched by some local spirit. Y/N yelled he was an insensitive motherfucker who could fuck himself out of her room if he thought she would let a child starve to death on her door.

As always, their love was intense but also was their anger. And whenever they would yell at each other, one of them would end up hurt.

This time, it was her.

"I don't fucking care about what you think! It's cattle, Y/N! Cattle die! And that's it! I won't spend my supplies with a thing that can barely give anything back to us!"

Or maybe not.

Perhaps... It was him.

"Fine then. Let us guide her to the woods and leave her to the wolves, Ivar. Isn't it what we do with useless things? Oh, wait... Wasn't it what your father did to you?"

Their words would always hurt each other deeper than they wanted to hurt. Their hearts would regret the words said at the moment they’d left their mouths.

But this time, her words forced his eyes to look out of his chariot. And Ivar stopped it by the street near where that thing was sitting, observing. Trying to understand why his wife was trying so hard to save that starving child.

Why was she comparing them as if there was anything in common between him and a Saxon abandoned child?

It was early in the morning. He watched as the little girl unwrapped the leftovers his wife had given to her the last night. At first, Ivar thought the little hungry thing would, of course, eat everything without care. But he watched with surprise as she fractioned the little portion, eating a quarter of it and saving the rest for later.

It was an intelligent move... She wasn’t a wild animal, after all.

That would be a cold day. Ivar observed as the little one looked up to the sky. The sun was born behind some heavy clouds - probably some rain would be coming at night.

He watched as the little thing looked around, smartly stealing a barrel from the trash of a nearby store, checking on its wooden pieces to place it properly as a shelter. She was young and thin enough to fit into it. It would serve for the night and maybe keep her warm.

The owner of the store, so as some people who were passing by, pushed her here or there, complaining about her attempts to move between them. And Ivar watched as the little girl looked up from the ground to the bigger people around her, fearlessly.

She wasn't such a defenseless little thing as he thought she was.

In fact, she was pretty smarter than he thought a Saxon child could be, hiding her barrel between the mead barrels of the same store, covering its problems with some mud, so the owner wouldn't see it wasn't one of his barrels.

She wouldn't have her shelter for the night thrown away or broken before she could use it.

Ivar lost track of the time he spent there, watching the girl moving here and there, gathering stones and mud to imitate the shop owner's way of stocking his barrels and preserving hers.

But the important matters of the town had to be more important than his arguing with his wife, and with this, Ivar moved away from that place.

His mind wondered if that was the reason why his wife was so sure he and that child had something in common.

The little girl was a fighter like he was someday, indeed. She was fighting her way to keep herself alive and, perhaps, his precious Y/N was right, and death wasn't exactly the fate that child had in this world.

Ivar tried to get himself occupied during the day. But the truth was that his mind never stopped lingering over Y/N's words, passing over and over the things he had seen that morning.

When the night was threatening to come, the sky broke in water as he thought it would. But curiosity dragged him away from the path to his home.

Ivar wanted to see if the little girl's plan had gone right and what was his surprise when he found the little one sitting away from the store under the heavy rain, with nothing but a rag to cover herself and wounds everywhere.

The barrel she'd tried so hard to protect was shattered near the store's trash, and a fence was placed by the owner around his barrels with some spikes near the place she was sitting before. It was preventing her from having coverage under his roof, even from the outside.

That angered Ivar a little. He'd seen her hard work! And, in the end, her plan had failed. She was clearly beaten and wet from her head to her toes anyway.

However, his eyes caught something he wasn't expecting.

After eating the last piece of what his wife had given to her, the little girl extended the leather over a hole he watched her carve with her bare hands on the ground. Treated, the leather started to catch water and fill itself, becoming a bag into the hole. The little girl caught the bag before it could lose its content, tied the leather with a strand of her ragged trousers, and created a canteen from where she started drinking the rainwater, relieving her thirst.

She was beaten down, defeated. Yet, she didn't give up. She didn't lay her pride down. And found herself a way to turn that rain into a chance for her to survive one more day.

There was determination in her eyes.

That little thing wasn't being sustained by his wife's crumbs. No. She was fighting to the limit of her strength to survive.

Like he'd done someday...

Ivar's eyes filled with surprise when he could see himself in that little girl's wounds, dragging himself through the mud when everyone thought he would never move.

Standing, when everyone was expecting his legs to break and let him fall.

She was a fighter. And, maybe, Y/N was right. Perhaps it wasn't about a Saxon child or a useless slave. Perhaps the gods were showing him they've chosen that little thing, to give her a chance, to reward her for the fight she was putting on for her life.

"Get in," Ivar's voice sounded.

The little thin thing lifted her eyes to see the mighty Viking looking at her from the chariot everyone from her people was taught to fear. Her wounded little body could barely reach the top of its wheels when she got up to look at Ivar.

Her eyes into his, instigating even more the curiosity he was starting to have about that little Saxon thing.

How fierce would she be if raised under his roof?

But the little thing didn't get up on his chariot at once. Instead, she lowered herself, gathering more stones with her muddy and wounded hands.

"I said get in! Don't you see you'll end up dying under this rain?" Ivar complained, annoyed he was standing under such heavy and cold waters for a thing that dared to turn her back on him, carving the floor and placing the stones in a way the rain wouldn't destroy her little monument. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I must do it, sir," she mumbled.

Ivar could recognize a small stone monument in that little girl's construction. His people were used to rising those little towers to pray for the gods or place small sacrifices and offers.

Was Y/N teaching her about the gods?

"Why?" he asked as she tried to climb up on his chariot, struggling a little with the height and her wounded knees.

"It is for the lady who comes here every day," she mumbled. "I promised if I ever was to leave, I would leave one of these for her, so she would know I'm not dead."

For his wife.

She was leaving a stone monument for Y/N, so she wouldn't be worried...

"I don't know where you're taking me, king Ivar," she said, showing she knew who he was. "But I don't want her to be sad."

Ivar's heart ached. There was indeed something in common between him and that child. But not only the fact that both of them were survivors.

She didn't want his wife to be hurt.

And so didn't he.

"Cover yourself," he said, throwing his warm cloak around her.

It covered her like a blanket in which she rolled herself, nestling with a grateful smile.

"She was right," the little girl mumbled as Ivar started to ride his horses.

"What?" he asked, and she repeated, smiling at him.

"The lady was right." She said. "The gods were watching me. Maybe I passed their test."

Y/N was definitely teaching that girl. And Ivar sighed, looking at the road.

Perhaps it was a test for himself as well. Or Skuld just had decided to use him as a feather to write that little girl's fate differently.

"Skuld," he said, catching her eyes. "We shall name you Skuld. To honor the god that wrote your fate like this."

"Skuld," she tried.

Pronouncing it perfectly.

"Sounds strong... I like it!"

What a petulant little thing, Ivar thought. As if she had any choice on how things would be from now on. A giggle filled Ivar's mouth.

Y/N was right and he would remember apologising after coming home that night.

The little girl wasn’t a useless thing. And he had to admit.

She was like him, after all.

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[gallyl]

Alluka’s artificial world [HxH meta 3]

Personal notes about Killua & Alluka reunion in the Election arc.

WARNING: LONG POST

The Zoldyck family’s attitude to their children has always been clear and reaches its climax in Volume 31. The cover portrays Killua and Alluka as plushy toys. Dehumanization and objectification are what Killua is going to fight against. By protecting his sister, Killua protects their human dignity and right to independence. To show the difficulty of this fight, Togashi rewrites the “creepy girl” trope for Alluka like he rewrote “a killer kid” trope for Killua.

Alluka’s pre-introduction on the photo is vague. She looks creepy… but not quite. Later it becomes evident that during that moment she was already excluded from the family. She’s not allowed to stand with Killua. Killua doesn’t object, at this point he must have been “tamed” - he is unnaturally docile in his mother’s arms and has a blank stare. Later Alluka’s introduction is done by Illumi, who shares the Zoldyck’s mentality. As an unreliable narrator, Illumi is blind to Alluka’s humanity and the pain she and Killua experienced due to their family’s actions.

In the Election arc Killua returns home as a changed person. This is manifested by a harsh dialogue with his father, where Killua is one step away from threatening him. He is the opposite of the shy, humble son he used to be in this same room. The paradox is that he refused to be the heir but now he behaves like one. He takes full control of the family, tricks them and forces them to do what he wants. Killua tames the dog - a symbol of the Zoldyck’s heartless, bloodthirsty spirit.

However, Killua goes completely still, when he sees another rescue mission ahead. A curious detail: isn’t it weird that Alluka was kept alive? She is “too dangerous”, not considered a family ( = can be killed), and she risks the Zoldycks’s safety and reputation. Why keep her and to bother so much with security locks and doors? My only guess is that Killua asked not to kill her. Maybe he defended her right to life with ultimate despair; it became clear that if the family got rid of Alluka, their heir would undoubtedly join her in death (shinjuu includes family too).

This would explain, why Killua tolerated her imprisonment for so long in the back of his head. He had accepted the cruel compromise as long as she was alive, not forced to kill, and left in peace. It would also explain why Illumi ended up training Killua in self-preservation and even used a needle to stay on the safe side. And why Silva personally sent his son into exile to the Heaven’s arena for 2 years. Fancy locks and doors keep Alluka away from unwanted strangers, but first of all, from, well, Killua.

I’ll use both manga and anime images further, because they complement each other.

Alluka’s prison cell was converted into a girl’s room, but in a special way. The walls are painted in light blue with clouds and stars (“sky”), sunflowers and palm trees (“sun”, “summer”, “warmth”). The lights are bright. It’s an attempt to recreate outdoors, an open, warm and friendly space. Abundance of toys is a “creepy girl” feature, but not quite. It’s also an imitation of life - plushy animals and dolls keep lonely Alluka company. To fill the void, she asked for toys, just like she asked for a dress, a princess bed with curtains and a girl’s dressing table (without her/Killua’s asking she would have a boy’s room).

But all her asks were met out of fear, not out of love. In the manga (NOT anime), the ceiling and cheerful wall drawings are spoiled with moist. Small toys are scattered under Killua’s feet. These bunnies and glass balls had probably been lying around, untouched, for a long time. It is hard for a child to clean up alone all the time and an unclean room is a sign of depression. Also, she’s quite a grown-up to have the same interest in toys or treat them as substitutes for real people. Nobody dares to help Alluka clean the room, and nobody renovates the room to make it proper again. This place is a worn-out, outdated, fake decoration. The hypocrisy of family care is what truly makes this place horrible.

It is an artistic choice in both manga and anime, that Alluka is sitting still. She was dehumanized by her family and became invisible among other discarded and abandoned toys.

She looks like she’s drowsy, but she’s really not, it’s a subtle portrayal of tiredness and sadness. The animators make her sit head down with eyes closed. When she looks up, her bright blue eyes are darkened. Because Alluka did her best to stay strong all these years, she holds back her emotions. She is strong and persistent.

Unlike Killua, she never had the comfortable amnesia. The audience is afraid that she might kill her brother, but in reality the happy shock she is feeling is unimaginable. She had waited for Killua in prison, for years, with undying hope, with Nanika as her only real companion.

A sinister black background suddenly turns into a cheerful white one, and she looks as innocent as she can possibly be. Surprise! From now on Togashi is deconstructing Alluka’s negative image even more effectively by using Killua as her defender. Killua is alone against the world, including us, the audience. We know nothing good about her and stand more or less on the same side as the Zoldyck family, biting our nails.

“Onii-chan, die” - good one, Togashi! What an amazing way to troll the audience and release a bit of tension from the start!

Alluka doesn’t ask for things like new toys or furniture. She doesn’t even ask for a liver or a spine like we expected. She needs only time with her brother. To show feelings of love, Togashi uses the imagery of flowers (“natural beauty”, “love”, “sincerity”, “innocence”), which opposes the materialistic mentality of the Zoldycks. White frames are sandwiched between darker frames: two children within the grim family doman.

Alluka doesn’t ask to free her. Either she accepted her fate, or maybe she hopes he’ll free her anyway. From his side, Killua has no doubt. No more compromises. Now he knows what life and love is, and this existence is neither. He doesn’t stop the “last hug” and stands up, still holding Alluka in his embrace. Now he must save TWO dearest people, but instead of feeling stressed, he is serene like never before. He found his missing piece. The big smiling cat to the right resembles him at this moment (although this might be a sweet coincidence).

He’s taking her out from this untidy, moisty, lonely place. On the wall there is a painting of the Kukuroo mountain: it turns out, that the walls depict idealistic surroundings of the Zoldyck mansion.

Last time, in the best traditions of the Greek lore, Killua was asked by his father to keep an “impossible” condition to never betray his friends. This time he’s the one who makes conditions that ensure a return to “the world of the living”. When they escape, his sweet “Eurydice” gives him a kiss.

Killua didn’t forget Alluka. If that was the case, he would experience a huge surprise upon remembering his sister. Killua’s forgetfullness is similar to how Meleoron described his ability “God’s Accomplice”. Killua didn’t forget but rather overlooked Alluka’s existence. But he never stopped loving her.

Those who consider her confinement humane because she had basic needs served like food and bed: no, she didn’t. She didn’t have the right to go out, communicate with the family, travel, buy things, work, create, fall in love, get married, have children, own home, pets and a garden. Human needs are useless without human rights. She was not living but kept alive. It’s not the same at all.

Gon invaded the Zoldyck mansion to rescue Killua. Killua followed his light, grew strong and rescued his sister in the same manner. His journey was a circle, and he rediscovered himself as a changed person, furious at his younger self: “How could I have left my sister here to get treated this way?!” Following Gon’s example once more, Killua took his sister on a journey to show her the world, heal together and make up for the lost time. Just like Gon was the light for Killua, Killua learned to be the light for Alluka (and others, too). Killua thanked Gon for this in the end: “She was able to come out of this because of you. Now I am ready to protect her for the rest of my life. We are the ones who should be thankful”.

PART 2: Alluka’s character portrait (so far)

Alluka is Killua’s first friend. Together with Nanika they gave Killua unconditional love, family love, friendship and kindness. They showed that one can not only kill, but do the reverse - heal - and it’s a wonderful thing to do! They made Killua human and secretly changed his future. He left home to find freedom and prove his worth, but above all he searched for happiness that he lost.

Alluka is wise. She understands her heavy influence within the Zoldycks. But, unlike Killua, she holds no grudge against her family, even considering herself a burden: “Do you think I shouldn’t be here? Would the family be better off without me? Would you all get along better?” She knows only Killua loves her in the whole world. She smiles broadly when he tells her so, because it’s no news, she’s just happy.

Alluka and Killua are similar in their natural kindness and utmost devotion. Alluka always believed in her brother’s return and calmly entrusted her life to him during the whole dangerous adventure. She’s brave and persistent - she goes all out to defend her brother and her sister. Even if it means to defend the sister from the brother. Alluka can knock sense into him. She’s Killua’s saving grace.

Alluka is unselfish. She sees through Gon. In addition to both being sweet and brave cinnamon rolls, they have one more thing in common: Killua. She likes Gon for liking her brother, and she understands Gon’s sadness and insecurity. There is no jealousy from her side - she promises “to return Killua back”. Alluka supports Killua’s friendship with Gon because she sees that it’s genuine.

Alluka’s story is not over. She and Nanika coexist in harmony. But Togashi’s skepticism about codependence suggests that at some point “siamese twins” might have to be separated. Nanika will leave Alluka’s body (under happy or tragic circumstances), or they will find a way to become two detached physical persons who can finally touch, play and live together.

INTERLUDE: Alluka behind the scenes

Five Zoldyck kids were named by using a shiritori game (IlluMilluKilluAlluKalluto). That’s why a mysterious missing child named “Alluka” was identified by Japanese fans as early as in 1999, before her first manga appearance in 2005 (photo). Some people doubt if Alluka was initially designed the way she is today. That said, a slightly similar story about a brother saving a sister from prison was in Togashi’s earlier work Yu Yu Hakusho (Hiei and Yukina).

The old HxH anime took many liberties with the original, but there is one scene that stands out for me like an eyesore. Because Togashi was involved in the production (to an unknown extent), I’d like to guess that Alluka could be foreshadowed as early as in 2001 (Episode 59). This doll with familiar thick locks appears in Killua’s PTSD flashback:

In this scene, Killua and Gon are detained by Nobunaga (the Yorkshin arc). Frustrated by his inability to protect Gon, he experiences a PTSD memory with Illumi’s notorious mantra about his worthlessness. Interestingly, the mantra is now spoken in Killua’s voice, because he mistakes Illumi’s hypnosis for his own opinion of himself. This memory consists of 6 frames (the 7th frame with Illumi’s face is detached from the flashback and may not be a part of it, so i omitted it).

I’ll try to recreate the story. The ominous figure on Frame 1 is Illumi, who watches Killua from afar, by the graveyard. Mountains imply that they are still close to the Zoldyck estate. Killua is clinging to a pile under the ruins that cannot hide him. One shoe is missing (“running away”, “prey”, “vulnerability”). Then we see a black raven eating a worm in front of the fishing net (“predator”, “ill omen”). The graveyard, empty terrain, ruins, a pole forming a cross, a ragged rope, a raven - all symbolize death. Next… this doll, destroyed (“victim”, “violence”). This doll is important to Killua, because, as the hypnotic mantra continues, her image is replaced by Gon, blackened by a shadow and disappearing out of sight (“same fate as the doll”, “death”). After this Killua loses one’s nerve and braces himself for the attack. He no longer wants to run away and be weak. He doesn’t want to lose Gon. It’s an attempt to break the cycle.

So, the flashback is about experiencing a loss: Killua ran away to protect a doll, but Illumi caught him and destroyed it. The value of Gon is not compared with the value of the toy, no! On the contrary, the doll is treated as a precious, vulnerable human. This is what makes this memory traumatic. But one question remains: why not a toy soldier, or a plushy animal, or a live stray puppy / kitten? This doll with similar thick black locks, big button eyes a kind smile sort of resembles Alluka. If it’s true, Killua kept the doll as a memento of Alluka. This explains why Illumi had to chase after the kid for miles and do what he did.

This flashback is one of the earliest moments when toys and people intertwine in Togashi’s work. The flashback is most likely an original anime idea, but the imagery of death and objectification truly reflect the Zoldyck family dynamics. This flashback matches Killua’s struggle for human dignity, and Togashi’s use of toy symbolism for Alluka. It’s also consistent with Illumi’s repeated predatory behaviour, and his role as a puppeteer. Illumi is himself designed from a voodoo doll.

All in all, history doesn’t really matter. But I like to think that Alluka always existed behind the scenes the way we know her today - a beautiful, important, wise and strong sister, and a future proof of Killua’s character growth.

PART 3: Alluka’s self-identity

Alluka’s outfit is based on Miko’s dress. Miko is a Japanese shrine maiden. But in the past she also served as a shaman maiden. Miko performed spirit possession and served as a medium to communicate the divine will or message of that kami or spirit. Alluka wears this dress because she identifies herself AS the girl and AS a shaman, who communicates Nanika’s will. Kanji is also interesting. Wikipedia article says:

The Japanese words miko and fujo (“female shaman” and “shrine maiden” respectively) are usually written 巫女 as a compound of the kanji 巫 (“shaman”), and 女 (“woman”). Miko was archaically written 神子 (literally “kami” or “god” + “child”) and 巫子 (“shaman child”). 

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Thank you for reading and endless attention span, and feel free to share your own thoughts and ideas! I’d like to thank @telehxhtrash​ for inspiring me to write this months ago, and to @buzzykrueger​ for priceless observations. In case you’d like more:

 A nuclear proof article on Alluka’s transgender identity

 Love as a whole - Alluka, Nanika and unconditional love

 The cost of Nanika’s nen - She probably pays for Killua’s wishes herself

 How Killua lost Alluka - about Killua’s “memory loss”

 Reconciliation meta - the middle section is about Nanika’s healing power and reconciliation with Killua