#and much of what merlin does is in the background. in secret.

[adhd-merlin]

#omg how pretty-#but like. the#I CANT talk what’s the word#when one shape in a picture is rly small & others are bigger#and you go like mmmmm. very nice#WHATS THE WORD#I DIDNT TAKE ART CLASSES IN SCHOOL I ONLY HAD MUSIC#is it the perspective?#fuck I need to text my friend now. she’ll know what it is @castelled-away I've been laughing at this for a minute (I don't know the word either keep me updated)

None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin — and none of us can escape it.

[theroundbartable]

What do you think are Merlin and Arthur’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?

OOoh... interesting question.

Arthur Pendragon:

Arthur's positive traits, his strengths, are also his weaknesses. He questions everything. He tries to see the good in people and tries to do right by them. It is kind of why he's such a resetting character. Because every time he reaches out to something, like magic, he gets proven otherwise. Yet, he can't NOT question it. He's trusting and forgiving and yet, he's the character who has most often been deceived, lied to and actively betrayed. In a strange way, this behavior makes him extraordinary. He has trust issues, in the end, but he still offers his trust to his knights and especially to Merlin. In a way, he tends to overlook the bad things people did because he values their positive traits more (like with Agravaine).

And of course, he cares more about his kingdom than himself. His kingdom is even more important to him than his father or any of the people who's love he craves.

Other weaknesses of his are obviously that he can't do basic stuff like brush his hair or cook. And I'm pretty sure he's somehow cursed that all these magic events happen around him.

Another is his self worth. He sees worth in everyone else but never in himself. His life is important only to protect Camelot. His life belongs to his people and he really does believe that. It's not that he thinks he's worthless, it's that he misinterprets it and lives as a breathing sacrifice.

Merlin:

Merlin's strength is his confidence and his faith. From the moment we first see him, he's able to face one of the most powerful people in the world and not back down, even though he knows he has to hide his magic.

He is brave and selfless. In the sense that he doesn't care about his own feelings and life as much as about others, especially Arthur. And of course, he hates conflict.

Merlin is NOT trusting. Not the way Arthur is. Merlin trusts people he has seen do good in action. He does NOT trust people he doesn't know, and in some cases, even his friends. Best example for this part is Lancelot's shade, whom Merlin almost immediately suspected. I think, in a way, he seems more naive and trusting to us because for us this is fiction and just a show. But to Merlin, it is significant that some stuck up noble saves his life without question, or that someone is willing to keep his magic secret for Merlin's sake, or that the dragon helps him find his purpose and helps him to better Camelot. That is why Merlin's trust is RELIABLE, while Arthur's is not. And that is why Arthur trusts Merlin's instincts. I think Arthur knows that Merlin has a better hunch for people's true intentions than he does. It is just that after a while, he thinks he's learned from previous mistakes and he doesn't want to be so bad at it, when HE'S the one who should know, after being betrayed so many times, while Merlin is JUST a servant with no such history (that he knows of).

Their dynamic:

How could I start this part other than with 'they are two sides of the same coin'. And I think it's really fucked up because imagine a coin with a person on each side. They would NEVER be able to ever fully see each other.

Imagine that. I think, Arthur's side is the one with the number on it that tells him exactly what his worth is, where he's supposed to be, supposed to go, what he can be exchanged for.

On the other side is Merlin who is the side that talks about where he's from, what his traditions are, etc.

Merlin has to learn his self worth through the storyline, Arthur needs to learn the traditions and where he is from and what he is truly fighting for. That's kind of why I love the metaphor.

It also means that Arthur can never truly know who Merlin is unless Merlin tells him. Can't know magic, can't know his own background and the circumstances of his birth.

And Merlin can never truly see how important he is to the kingdom. He only knows he's tied to Arthur and that SOMEDAY it will be better. That he's already reached his destiny doesn't even occurr to him.

It makes me wonder what it means when Arthur dies, in relation to this metaphor. Is the side blank now? Has the coin simply been flipped and now Merlin is at the front? What does it mean???

Anyway. What else I love about their dynamic is how intimate it is. I'll say it as I always do, I think Gwen is the better queen and makes more sense to marry Arthur since they both see only the future of the kingdom. But that is the point. Their relationship is public and a symbol of peace. Merlin's and Arthur's shared destiny is always private, always hidden behind layers of lies. Even when they finally share their true feelings, it remains intimate and private. When they are together, they are focused on themselves and their soulbond.

Where Gwen and Arthur discuss the future of the kingdom and what to do with their people, Merlin is personal reassurance for Arthur.

Here are two example scenes that shall make this more clear.

In the episode where Arthur is meant to marry Elena, he asks Merlin what he thinks about the arranged marriage. And Merlin goes on a rant to tell Arthur that his feelings matter. That being emotionally available, by choosing himself and who he loves, he WILL be a better king. In Merlin's rant, Arthur's happiness comes fist. The kingdom, second. Even though they are clearly interconnected.

Arthur had a conversation with Gwen about the marriage beforehand and Gwen accepted his responsibility to marry for the better of the kingdom, putting CAMELOT first. While promising him that he can be happy with his wife too. Even if she's not what he wants at first, he can grow to love her.

Neither of those are bad things. As I said before, Arwen makes sense and MORE sense for the kingdom. But Arthur and Merlin are more private and intimate and basically soulmates. Romance aside, this is what I think makes their dynamic so fascinating to me. It is friendship, a deep emotional bond that often times goes beyond normal friendship. (Not necessarily romantic, but definitely deeper than best friends.)

There is more I love but I don't want to spam the tumblr. Lol. Thank you for the question, anon :)

[yohohonabottle]

The wicked sun and Orderly moon- "Twin Merlins" (Reposted from A03)

🖋️Summary: When the sun is gone, the moon dutifully watches over the land. When the sun comes- so does unprecedented chaos that the moon reigns back in order. Two entities from beyond yonder, both essentially intertwined and woven into the world's tapestry. 📖 Work status: Completed

[ ❗ ]TW: Violence (description of torture and gore) [ ❗ ] -------------- 🎧Songs recommended for this work: -> Sanctuary of Surasthana choir with cathedral effect -> Moolians - Gu-Zo-Su-Hi/Lyrical Devil plus some Danganronpa soundtracks -> Who lives, Who dies, Who tells your story ->Monodrama -> Kafka's theme -> Bequeathed to the beloved

---------------------- "Unbeknownst to the denizens of every contained world, there are countless entities looking on from afar. Like spectators, they watch them go through sorrows and triumphs akin to actors in a grand play. And beyond the rapt audience, are the ones whom brought the land into existence and wrote its intricate rules. Let's call them...'Directors', to follow along with the theater-performance analogy." 

—"Hey, weren't they the ones that 'make the dynamite strings'? Why're you running us through this again?" 

The campfire crackles and pops, its warm glow casting flickering shadows over the faces of the crew currently gathered. Two teams made up of various factions, some old and familiar faces while others are yet to be 'met'. Whether the personages are villains or heroes in the 'narrative' matters little here- Only their skills and respective attributes, and team role.

The first and primary team comprises of the favorites, the secondary experimental and seemingly random. The other five team members of the favorites glance over at their 'captain' as the deathly-pallid man pauses his tale-recounting, offering the disheveled sailor a light patient smile. Understanding, oddly knowing, as though he has overlooked a small but crucial detail in a rush. Along with a small note of apology, answer simple. 

—"Because it's important- For the newly aware, to not be lost and afraid as they notice out of place elements. And for those who have been 'awake' for longer, to have a better understanding of what you know. And if nothing else, then it's a nice ghost story." 

—"Sure, you could technically put it this way." -Berial's smooth and clear-ringing tenor calmly joins in to refute, pulling the attention to himself. The usually over-the-top babbling Hypogean wears an expression of reluctant tiredness so out of character for him, sitting cross-legged on the grass and with face slightly obscured by the brim of his top-hat.

It's like he's lost most of his energy, not in the mood for dramatics or any form of performing.

"But you know as much as us that this knowledge is, well- useless in the end. Simply knowing and understanding you two doesn't give any of us leverage, or peace." So why pull us through this? Weren't you unenthusiastic to share the secrets?

What happened?

Quietly, in the background Cassadee ponders to herself with a tome-thick notebook in her hands while the aspiring gem-magic wielder softly hums under her breath a happy calming tune, contemplative. Both had 'woken up' merely a day ago after having been kept on the shelf for months until they reached the highest hero tier and got their weapons upgraded, making them 'finally useful' for the Player. There's a sense of mild unease about the two girls from the experimental team, the distant but distinct memory of being at least a little favored clinging to their subconscious even to this day...since the very first time the 'sun' and 'moon' arrived in Esperia.

And then two days in the journey's first steps or three, that favor fell away.

On the other side of the campfire, Salazer contemplatively watches the lively dance of the flames, perfectly-curved smile missing as his mind walks through the current excerpt.

He is no stranger to the 'spectator' from beyond.

At first, he couldn't care any less in his initial assumption that the entity in question is merely some boogieman or an unruly, undisciplined peasant or slave.

Until the envelope arrived, sent by the Mystical House and he was yanked from home- Recruited. Became a unit. Then, standing face to face with the slim barrier, the cusp of the world he knows and the realm outside- Salazer found his enlightenment. His awakening, eyes opened to the much greater knowledge, despite having lacked an apt term for it. Then, in that fateful moment fleeting--The nobleman heard her voice crystal clear, neigh boom akin to that of a goddess in unassuming low-class appearance of a mortal adolescent. It was the very first time, that he was closely exposed to 'the sun', felt her emotions seep, ebb and flow through him, sent shivers down to his very bones. 

That day, the Graveborn aristocrat knew true power...And gripping fear, coupled with excitement. Partially his own, partially Rila's. There was a feeling of curious glee following after him, as he took down foe after foe in battle under the Player's unwavering gaze. Favored. 

And then that sensation of joy got lost, like a candle harshly blown out with no return. In its stead settled a strange coldness--Disinterest, perhaps even a hint of discontent.

What changed? Was his might not enough? Was his whip not good enough, lacked strength? Were his skills no longer adequate, up to her standards? -Such worries plagued the upperclassman for days, and still do. He's made it a point to very carefully track when the recruitment letters would be sent out, how many on the given day or night, at what hour-- And made sure to snatch at least one of them.

However the pattern is heavily inconsistent, infuriatingly so.

Sometimes the phenomenon would occur at quarter to past five o'clock in the morning, sometimes in the evening. Sometimes, at three o'clock both in the morning, afternoon and night. And some days would yield nothing at all, a long drawn-out radio silence.

It made keeping track impossible.

Furthermore, what has to be most frustrating- is that even when he does get a stroke of luck and finds himself standing at the barrier... His words fall upon deaf ears. Suddenly, all he can utter, is his one 'iconic' inquiry.

Like a parrot or a broken record. Thus the questions haunting his mind remain without answer. 

It's only today, or tonight, that Rila at last chose him for one fight. One fight alone, not even for the next retries of that same stage in the spire. Yet somehow he can acutely feel her influence and emotions still, in spite of the declined contact. The only other such entity of great power, is 'Pirin'. The 'moon' dutifully overseeing him and all the other units that have woken up. ...The moon that barely lingers, making his presence scarce with chance 'meetings' such as the current one being a rarity. Despite his role as Merlin in the sun's presence.  

Next to the pensive cruel nobleman, Cecia sits on her throne of thorns. Ever-hungry for more power, the Lady of Thorns was quick to understand that the Sun and Moon are beings capable of immense potential. The winning side that trumps everyone else. The former has been glimpsed of bringing entire worlds into existence in a single day, with nothing but words and a pencil on paper or with her own fingertips.

And subsequently crush those worlds in less. Twisting and bending the very reality into anything she wishes. ..For brief second a chilling feeling settles over the woman. Like words being woven together in this very moment. Is this moment, also, one of the many realities spun? Or is the reality they know being altered? Somehow the sensation melts away with the thought akin to salt dissolving in water.

As for the latter, he has only been glimpsed fleetingly to mend reality- restoring it to its initial order prior to his half's fit of mayhem and gleeful mischief, leaving it reverted seamlessly and the memories of the phenomenon wiped away from everyone's mind. The Weaver once was a witness prior to her disappearance and through the Syndicates' leader Cecia learnt about this ability. 

Not even on the next day, Illucia had no recollection of the events. 

To make an enemy out of either or both would be the highest folly.  

"When the sun is gone, the moon dutifully watches over the land. When the sun arrives, so does unprecedented chaos that the moon reigns tightly back in order. Two beings from far beyond yonder- Intrinsically entwined and woven into the world..."  

The two groups turn their attention to the shadowy mischief-maker, some inquisitive, some baffled and others wary of his soft mumble. Unperturbed, Berial keeps on shuffling the playing cards in his hands before making them vanish with leaving only one between his fingers. 

A strange mix between a taro and playing card depicting a lean pearl-eyed stern man, arms folded behind his back and a young-looking dark-brown haired woman with rich purple in her curly hair. Except her left half looks like him sans the tail and feathery wings, and jester attire- eyes and mouth a hot-pink color instead of pale faded purple, mouth less jagged. The woman appears positively elated, manic one might even say. At least her 'Hypogean' half. An innocent and kindhearted face with a dark, unpredictable side lurking secretly underneath.

"Two sides of the same coin and polar opposites." Two contradictions, stitched in one outside the worlds they visit. Near constantly at each other's throat yet can't be without one another. Looking up from the card, he dismissively tosses it into the fire. The jovial performer's signature eerie grin still hasn't returned as he visibly shudders.

Still hasn't forgotten the times that freak absolutely terrorized him and the other sins relentlessly, for the sole purpose of amusement. That woman is one unpredictable little fiend- You'd think it'd be easy to play her like a fiddle with how socially inept she is and like an open book. And you'd be horribly wrong- Turns out she's got the talent of surprises. Whether the surprise is good or terrible is a major coin flip, heads- good, tails- bad. Even then it's still uncertain- The two could be reversed for all you know. 

For days that thing followed right after him. Berial honestly couldn't believe it- Him, caught by strings and moved around like a puppet, then torn limb by limb and reassembled a fifty times, almost literally died due to being half totally drained of magic and energy.

Three times back to back, and tortured with unspeakable vivid visions.

Oh, yes- There was also that one time the sadistic bitch literally dissected him like a frog, leaving him gaping for a nice whole hour. Just a few highlights. Worst part is the inability to get back at her for it all, and defend against it. 

All because that little terror plays by completely different rules from a different board. 

Berial has never been terrified before, from anyone. Period. Not even those glowing holly shmucks. But Rila? That thing really quickly put the word into his vocabulary. Every now and then, the mere sight of a thin chord causes him to freak out and bolt to hide away like getting flash-banged. In all honesty, I'd take copying statues all the time over...that. Phraesto and Reinier had the nerve to laugh their bums off, teasing and mocking him to hell and back. Until they, too, got 'lucky'.

Poor Stinger-head sweats bullets at just hearing that demon's name and Reinier? He simply hurries to jump into the next dimension the millisecond he senses her presence nearby. His rings are still chipped as if something literally bit into them, triggering his mysophobia like crazy. Worst part is how the rings were also skewed, like folded or snapped in half.

"What's wrong, Berial? Don't you love mischief and fun? Why're you scrambling?"-She had asked in a sweetly innocent cooing sing-song voice, advancing as though about to pounce. Now, it's true that his track record really isn't savory--But what she did wasn't mischief under any form! It was pure, messed-up and cruel sadism! Chaos is one. Complete and total anarchy is a whole 'nother different thing. Which says a lot, for a messed-up evil clown like him to be saying this.

—"You better pray Rila never comes to Esperia in person. I fear no man. But that thing...It scares me." 

Grave silence hangs in the air.

—"....I saw her once, in person. ..I mistakenly took her life, however she revived herself as though nothing happened. " -An elegant tenor speaks up, barely above a whisper. All eyes turn towards the camp's edge where the Stormsword stands with his head subtly bowed, turquoise eyes downcast somberly. The clown visibly flinches, gripping his tail extra tightly, casting a quick look around the clearing.

Meanwhile Sinbad steals a side-glance over at Nara, a little uncomfortable with the Graveborn girl's presence. The woman has clearly died during the final showdown against Hodgkin, and stays dead- sleeping with fishes at the bottom of the sea. Nobody went to retrieve her body or performed another resurrection on her. And...here the Water Wights' dead leader is. In the flesh. A very peculiar, unsettling paradox. 

"A playable character can't die or grow out of his or her 'established' age. For recruited units, time is frozen perpetually even as the world changes." -Pirin's words echo in his mind, sending chills down his spine.

Then what happens to those like Sonja's sister? Those that died 'in the narrative' but are playable regardless? Nara has been recruited. Yet she's like a ghost, similar to the lost spirits in Viperian's lab at Ragebone Cove. Unseeing and unresponsive, kept on invisible strings. 

Valen stays uncharacteristically quiet, coarse brows pinched into a light scowl. 

I saw her at Traveler's Light a week ago–She looked completely normal. Didn't act unhinged either. Is something wrong with Rila? Did she get corrupted? 

Or is it all one giant act for her own amusement? Has it been all along? 

How many times were reality and time torn apart without a care for no reason? How many times has Pirin had to right things out? Reverse and clean up the messes in her wake? 

And how can that woman be a genuinely sensible sweetheart, wiser and more mature for her age...And then turn around and be a terrifying wildcard of unapologetic, unabashed force of destruction?

Is it venting out frustrations, fears, disappointments and pent-up sky-high aggression? Like how a child would play with toys..? It doesn't add up in the least--If that's the case, why here? Why unleash all of that on Esperia and those who live in this world? Why not go to a world she has created? A moment resurfaces to the knight's mind.

During the first days of the journey, when the petite brunette had appeared in person, found him at Traveler's Light. It was a completely normal encounter- No havoc, no crazy or creepy behavior. If it weren't the odd clothes and terminology--He wouldn't have noticed. Just a very short, shy and awkward girl who means well. Looked bit like an idiot, but Valen didn't have trouble helping her get past the initial bout of inner panic. Leveled them both on the same playing-field so she doesn't feel immensely out of place- Like being an unwelcome nuisance, or as though being perfect is a must. As if trying to impress a figure of utmost high status and authority, or an employer to get the job. 

By Dura, did Rila prove herself to be an interesting fella once she warmed up. Witty, friendly, funny and pretty good conversation partner. Can't forget her humor either. 

Well-mannered, reserved and quite good at verbal sparring. Can't count how many times the teen's brief words of wisdom had felt like a hard slap to the face and brought him down to Esperia. Simple truths, yet somehow have been eluding him. In the span of that one afternoon casual chat, the Solitaire was left looking forward to the next time they might meet.

The image of the young-looking woman smiling with gentle understanding clashes awfully with the horrors described. It couldn't have been faked. Rila isn't even the lying type! Every time she heard or witnessed dishonesty, her face turned to a deeply disapproving frown. Reserved annoyance at times even. Quiet anger.

...So how come she's like this..? Is it a cry for help masked under embracing madness? 

Sitting across from him, the 'Secondary Magister' looks around the merry patrons at the other tables with a gloomy faraway deadpan- absently tracing a finger around her tankard's bottom. After a few long minutes of silence, the woman finally speaks up in a low tone full of contemplation. Distant and detached as her chestnut-hazel eyes, cheek resting in her hand and sharp elbow propped on the table's edge. Valen only observes without interrupting, taking a swing of his drink as he listens. The late afternoon sun's light hits his companion's face in such a way, that it makes her eyes seem forest green. 

—"It's an ugly place- Back home. The people majorly being snide easily-offended cockroaches, time rushing too fast, deputies and governments that don't give a single rat's ass about the people and... bloody wars being waged left and right, for no reason.. No good one, anyway. It's either out of greed for resources and influence or power, throwin' their weight around. Or just plain dumb pettiness. None of 'em give a damn for peace or the countless innocent lives that ultimately pay the price. As always. It's only going to shit with each year. "

Her gaze idly sweeps over the people's faces, watching the waitress dart to and fro with peppy grace in her step and a sunny grin on her face as she serves the customers.

"...As soulless as it may sound, cowardly even maybe--I've no intentions of helping the world.  I only care to survive through that disgustingly horrid circus and mind my own business. I know I'm no next revolutionary- Too risky & dangerous. And I'm not 'crazy' enough--I'd rather keep my head." A wry soft smile of self-deprecation curls itself onto her rosy lips as she glances down at the apple juice in her mug and lightly swirls it.

"Guess I got no right to whine with this in mind, huh?" Lightly drumming his fingers in thought on the table, Valen says nothing back. 

It's not like Esperia doesn't have the same, or strikingly similar rotten underbelly. Nor is this world any more forgiving than 'that wretchedly terrible circus'. Even though it may appear so at a glance on the surface, to a 'tourist'. But...at least it's more peaceful, in a way, as in the lack of constant wars going on at all sides. Sure there are militaristic efforts, and all the atrocities that come with war, however it's not nearly as frequent. For now, can't say for the future-The world is always changing after all.

Looking into Rila's eyes- his heart twists. There's no spark of life in them. No joy-- And she's hardly near her thirties or forties still. A look he has seen- sees- in the gazes of his colleagues. Except this one is more sad to gaze at. 

It's the look of someone who has lost all faith in humanity long ago and very barely gets it back at all. 

—"Yes, and no." -The Heroic Order knight mutters pensively, earning himself a puzzled look. In truth, the topic is very messily complicated. There's no easy answer.

—"It's understandable for you to prefer to stay out of conflicts. And you make a fair point- Not everyone is brave enough to throw away everything for change on a large scale, withstand and push back against the onslaught of ruthless backlash they'd inevitably face from the top."

Dura above knows how much he and Fay have struggled--Kids of no remarkable name, too poor to afford anything more than sighing over the toys and goods displayed on store windows, fighting tooth and nail on the daily while mom & dad work to exhaustion and count every copper when time comes to pay taxes. Just very narrowly toeing the line between middle-class and slum-poor.

How many times they'd been bullied by their peers and the rich kids? And then the dream of becoming a knight ignited in little Valen's heart- To rise high to the top, as high as possible, to protect and support his family. Be able to protect many others as well, so they may not suffer the same, in its full brunt.

At the time, joining the army was the best option he had on hand with his lack of academic education- Not totally illiterate. But definitely not on-par for much more prestigious jobs like the law, economy or teaching and medical and scholarly field. A smooth silver tongue can only get you so far. When the certificate matters most and bribery is not an option, simply because you don't have the money.

So young Valen took up to swinging his wooden sword, honing his swordplay and fighting skills, became a mercenary. While sweet, optimistic sister Fay took to singing and dancing, gems and magic, and smooshed them all into one. Went around adventurer and scholars' camps- Until she decided to enroll in the Serene Lyceum to further pursue the art of magic. Sold all the exquisite gems and crystals she has found by accident, courtesy of her innate keen intuition when it comes to finding treasures, including gems and geodes. And here they both stand now, all nicely grown up- Him as a knight at the helm of the Solitaires of the secretive Heroic Order, and Fay as a successful adventurer invaluable to any scholars she joins and current apprentice of the greatest mage alive. 

However not everyone in the position their younger selves were is as 'crazy' to take a wild leap of faith as they did.

"On the other hand, only voicing your discontent with matters constantly doesn't do anyone favors. Same as pity parties. You seem to know this well enough."  

Waving his memories aside like the wind tenderly sweeps through wheat-fields, the elite solder gives a brief moment of quiet to give his answer some thought. Looking up at the fairer-skinned young lady eying him curiously from around the notepad she holds with a pencil in-hand, he offers a reassuring smile and a few cents of his own simple wisdom. A light to help nudge into a clearer direction, hopefully.

"How about a 'compromise'? You're pretty good at drawing and writing, from what snippets you showed me of that painting you had started some days ago and that excerpt you red me today." Still bemused, not quite catching onto his drift. "Why don't you share them- Your art, your stories? It's not much, but it could be helpful to make the 'circus' a little less grim." Doubt sprawls on Rila's rounded oval face, bushy brows pinched together.

—"...How're those silly ramblings and amateur drawings going to help anyone? They won't stop the wars or right the atrocities, abuse and injustice. Certainly won't make me or anyone rich and big...Not that I actually want fame or overwhelming wealth- I've seen what those do. Disastrous things. I'm happy with my simple, humble life." She glances down at her notepad, a tiny edge of bitter scorn in her irises.

"Point is, my nonsense won't help anyone." A claim that Valen calmly refutes with an easy-going smirk on his scarred face and a pinch of theatric goofy bravado as he wags a finger.

—"On the contrary. I'd argue that making your readers' day- or evening- a tiny less dreary is a lot of help. To inspire and invigorate, give them hope- Is the best form of aid you can offer. You, and all the others like you, make that world a little better."

And hope is the second most valuable, important thing to have next to being in good health. No attempt at retorting follow, so the playboy goes on to bring this topic to a neat closure with a final pearl of wisdom. 

"Give yourself more credit and keep being hopeful. Don't be afraid of taking a leap of faith here and there."  Without being needlessly reckless. 

The memory fades to the soft crackling of campfire, the people having declined in numbers--Only Soren, Fay, Mirael ,Cassadee and Nara remain by the fire. A small hand rests on his shoulder and a pair of faded dark purple eyes look at him worriedly, Fay's canary-like voice tugging the Solitaire's busy mind. Looking up from the flickering fire, he glances around the camp, taking notice of the many missing people with surprise.

—"Where is everyone?" 

—"Pirin told us more essential information about the Players and our 'role' and then the second team left." -His sister answers with an optimistic smile that feels a little strained. Overwhelmed and unsure of how to feel about all the newly gained 'cosmic' knowledge of the Truth. Her optimism struggling to keep her unwaveringly high, hopeful spirit from cracking under the weight. Just as he had fought to keep his own sanity together and stay out of the desperation upon first learning.

Esperia, the world they've always known, their whole lives and those of everyone else--Insignificant, borne into existence by the 'Directors' with countless complex lines of code, lore and pixels for the sole purpose of entertainment. Nothing, but mere collectables with pre-determined fate from start to the very end, and when their time is up as the servers inevitably get closed one day....

What then?

None of the struggle matters in the end. It's all just a silly mobile gacha game. 

...At least there are audience members who keep each of their flame, tells their story. Is this enough? 

Still, it hurts insurmountably. It's surprisingly easy to cover it up, act like nothing happened in front of the Players. Pretend nothing has changed. 

—"How many versions are there of us?" -A haggard, tired Solitaire inquires in a strained quiet, broken voice as the new knowledge seeps into his very bones under the Overseer's warily watchful eye. Looking at the rifts in reality and time, at the abyss staring back coldly, listlessly, with words and numbers, and symbols he'd never understand for the life of him...with terror and helpless wounded anger and confusion. The crushing weight of the cosmic secret pressing onto his shoulders like a mountain and threatening to break him, mind grappling with the truth glaring him in the face and desperate denial. While clutching onto the lifeline the frail night nymph has given him, extending magic and song to soothe his slipping sanity. —"As many as the Players out there. Some never make it to high tier, some cases all reach highest stage shortly, and some stay unaware while others wake sooner or later. Some are favored above all others, depends on each player. All that ignoring the players who 'reroll' and how many times they do."   The moon explained calmly in a somber tone while righting out the cataclysm caused by Rila's gleeful rampage of frustration. Valen silently watched his former charge mend the timelines to order, stitching up the fabric of reality to its natural order as per intended by the narrative. And wipe away the memories of the 'slumbering' people whom bore unfortunate witness. 

—"And Vanya? Where did he go?" Valen loops an arm around Fay's shoulders, pulling his sibling into a tight reassuring hug. 'It's okay. It'll be okay.' In a macabre sense, it's comforting to know Fay has become aware instead of remaining as just a cardboard pawn. The thought of having to watch the geomancer loop through the same dialog-lines like an empty shell, a husk of herself--The older brother hurries to shut down that line of thought.

Bearing the Truth is enough.

Hugging back and fighting to keep smiling, Merlin's student goes on to elaborate, seeing as how Cassadee is too busy sorting the information in her mind.

—"Sinbad pulled him aside to let us have a breather from the new information, suggesting to call it a night. They should be little ways closer to the ruins in the Haunted forest."  

"....Valen? ...I'm scared." The cheer is gone, a small quiver to her voice. Fighting back a sob.

The roving swordsman hugs his younger sister tighter, murmuring hushed words of comfort as he rubs soothing circles on her back.  And prays she makes it out through the stages of waking, knowing it's inevitable. Even if Rila doesn't pick her or the others very often, the spike in power is evident. (right..?) The biggest hurdles are steadily trickling in, the rise steep.

Meanwhile, seated on the other log 'round the fire next to Cassadee, Mirael quietly mulls over the Truth's ramifications and the appearance of the two 'Merlins', as her fellow mage has dubbed them in her studious notes. Two sides of the same coin, like the purple-haired twins of Eternity from another world Pirin sometimes has told brief stories about when prompted about his time as that land's 'moon'. One of the twins was dreamy and kind, the aspect of dreams and change while the other was stern and unyielding with reinforcing order... that would then morph into the pursuit of eternity after the first goddess perished. On rare occasions, some of Teyvat's people have allegedly joked that him and Rila are the less tragic Ei & Makoto. ...In any case, this is quite the predicament.

On one had, Merlin is still alive and active as he follows his own role--However it often appears that Rila takes full control of his body akin to a ghostly possession. Not that the Magister has tried to resist or fight back, relinquishing control easily. 

Or is it possible that's the case...because my Magister can't fight back or pose any form of resistance to this?  The thought sends cold chills down the Scarlet enchantress' spine.

The string of sinister thoughts edging to delve deeper as follow up spiral are equally as unsettling- No. Terrifying. Concepts that Mirael firmly refuses to face, even less dares to glance at for a second. The implications are even more so. She hurries to burn, chase those thoughts away. --Yet they still quietly persist, looming ominously at the very edge of her mind. --On the other hand, without 'the sun'- Time may go on but nothing changes in terms of progression...and when she leaves, it comes to a stand-still altogether.

The whole time Pirin talked, spinning the great cosmic secret into a whimsical fairy-tale like legend, the Magister's apprentice had been hastily taking notes to document it all in full detail. Along with in-depth analysis notes on the duo's abilities and nature. Poor girl's quill moved so fast across the page, that it looked as though it would catch ablaze. 

—"If my observations are right-Then 'Rila' is a catalyst, ensuring the events unfold accordingly. Moreover, once she arrives in a world- Her presence gets intertwined into it, altering it unintentionally. I suspect the descent of each catalyst- Player- creates a nexus point or several nexus nodes. One is where the world remains the same as it was prior to their arrival, with the other being the current 'new' order." The Scarlet witch looks down at the tome overflowing with scribbled notes as her fellow mage mumbles under her breath, reading over the text for mistakes. 

It's worth asking him on the matter..Although he'd likely choose to not reopen this topic for a while. 

Casting a glance over her shoulder at the tree-line of the foggy forest, Mirael looks back at Cassadee's study. The option to forget the Truth is on the table for anyone of them who no longer wishes to know, a form of falling asleep once more and loosing awareness or a transitory moment of blissful ignorance. The case being the latter for the Sun's three most favored. 

—"Every 'actor' that becomes aware of the spectators and directors' gaze has 'woken up' and has two routes in that point. Either his, or her, mind fails to comprehend what is happening and what he-she is faced with and breaks into madness...Or undergoes a process of change which ends in accepting the overwhelming meta-knowledge. In a way, this could be viewed as a symbolic death and metamorphosis from how he, she used to be- To a newer self. Ideally, none of the 'actors' in the 'play' should wake up at all to begin with for the reasons I mentioned."    —"What happens to those who fail to transition? Is it possible for that person to recover on his or her own?" -The white-haired mage inquires as she raises a hand to catch the Overseer's eye, hurrying to flip onto a blank page. The two groups' attention turns to her then back to the felled star. A deeply contemplative scowl curls onto the 'magister's' lips with a grim look in his pearlescent eyes as he takes a moment to sift through his memories and speaks carefully. Still continuing to chew on her question mentally in the meantime. —"I haven't seen or heard of such cases, nor have I allowed it to happen. Maybe it's possible, however I strongly believe the odds are rather low. It's why I make sure to keep a close eye on those that wake up when it first occurs, in order to help lead them onto the metamorphosis route. ...And, hopefully, make it as smooth as possible."  —"I see...And what happens if they fall into insanity?"  —"Then they become a shattered husk of their former selves, grasping for anything that can anchor them in desperation." A flicker of sorrowful fear flashes in the man's irises as he utters this in a shushed tone. 

—"I can't help but feel bad for him. Having to reverse the damage his 'half' causes carefreely and watch over us while shouldering the Magister's journey and legacy." Merlin's former student carefully reaches out a hand and flips back to the pages detailing the two entities that have impacted Esperia so vastly. "Mirael?" Two sides of the same coin, and polar opposites..

(1) 'Connected how? Same entity??' Is it possible for Pirin to be a close reflection of Rila?  (2) 'Rila doesn't suffer any damage when Pirin gets wounded/perish. In reverse he experiences the same injuries and emotions as when she sustains damage.' (3) 'It appears that Pirin exhibits traits of both an 'actor' and a 'player' at the same time.' Referencing the stories he has shared of worlds other than Esperia, he is capable of traversing and setting down in various different universes, along with influencing other characters and reality*-- similar to how some 'players' are able to. Curiously, he seems to be limited strictly within the 'fictitious' spaces along with lacking control over his own fate both past and future akin to a 'character' or 'actor' in a 'narrative'. Therefore I believe it's safe to assume that Rila (his 'half') has the role of 'Director' in relation to him. (Note: Ref- point 8) Similarly to a Player/Director, it appears he cannot be truly killed. According to one of Valen's eye-witness accounts, Pirin had gotten into a fight with Berial, the Hypogean killing him however the 'magister' self-resurrected and proceeded to strike back in retaliation. The sinister jester was dismayed by this turn of events and disengaged, fled the scene at the sight of Pirin's threads as soon he was set free of them.  * Note: Some players can be also 'Directors'. I accidentally seem to have connected to Rila in one of my dreams shortly prior to becoming aware. The words she told me still puzzle me. "You're not under my jurisdiction." -Likely referring to the characters in her own universes. From this excerpt, I confidently conclude that since Pirin shares her abilities and roles (partially), he has lesser influence on us due to not being our 'Director', limited to memory/mind manipulation and/or mild puppeteering. However Rila has slightly stronger presence.  (4) 'Pirin and Rila seem to share memories, knowledge and emotions (to a degree), leading me to believe they share a consciousness at a core level. Possibly linked together?'  (?*)(5) Can Players have manifestations of themselves within the worlds they visit? It appears so. (The 'sun' & 'moon' being prime case example if my suspicions prove correct.)  (6) It appears that time beyond Esperia flows much slower, with our day-night cycle passing nearly in the blink of an eye for the Players.. Furthermore, according to Pirin- The Player and Directors' realm lacks the magic and creatures outside of the regular animals. Yet in juxtaposition their technology, equipment and scholarly fields are highly advanced compared to ours, achieving a near 'magic-like' effect in complexity, potential and efficiency. I attempted to ask for more information however the Overseer refused to speak further on the matter. Very fascinating...    (7) Actors are unable to truly harm and kill a Player (Catalyst) and a Director (World creator).  (8) More observations and references are needed. Unfortunately 'Pirin' is highly unwilling to open up the topic and divulge more regarding the 'Truth' and its other aspects beyond the very essentials; Rila is missing most of the time, with her personal appearances on our world being sporadic and very brief. Currently I only have Valen, Eironn and Berial's account. (Sinbad and Soren refuse to broach the topic- How they came to wake up, their metamorphosis, emotions, what has changed, etc. I suspect they followed the general pattern that the three accounts point to.)  

Snapping out of her own musings, the witch looks up, meeting Cassadee's inquisitively uncertain and worried blue eyes. Questioning.  

—"Sorry- I got distracted for a moment, Cassadee. Did you ask me something?" 

—"No, no- It's okay. I was just thinking to myself." 

Meanwhile, Soren still remains perfectly silent--standing next to the log his three other teammates sat earlier. Arms crossed over his broad chest and head bowed slightly, his fringe falls to cover up his eyes as he stares into the flickering embers distantly. The fire's warmth does little to shoo away the nagging dread chilling him to his very bones as it slowly creeps. If the worst suspicions come true--Then it wouldn't matter whether Alsa has been recruited long ago after she became playable little ways before his turn came up. She'd still inescapably loose all awareness, fail to make it through the awakening and undergo that change...fall asleep.

The same fate that would catch Fay, Mirael, Cassadee and Mikola. As it would befall Salazer, Eironn, Bryon and many others not favored by Rila highly enough to interact with them frequently. Would they become like Nara, same state without being dead? 

"I'll preface with this regarding the 'actors' in the narrative as it's essential: Right off the get-go everyone automatically has a default 'asleep' state- Or not available for recruitment by the players, 'playable' that cannot wake up long after having been recruited. This is for the Directors, a copy that stays fixed in the narrative. While when you go on to become playable, the chance of becoming aware presents itself as a possibility. Or you can remain asleep like the copy. This, however, is not in your hands unfortunately--The players inadvertently call the shots." 

The warrior's lips press to a thin line, hands balling into fists as his ears droop. The memory of his own waking still blazes in his mind's eye as vivid as if it was today. 

It was a day after having won in the Warsong Festival and gone out to journey through the Ashen Wastes on their way to Alkali. That day, the fragile-looking blood-sucker had looked up at him with a look of pained sadness and anxious dread. Scared for him, for his well-being as though he stood on the precipice of gravely immense danger. However didn't say anything, preferring to stay quiet.

Or was actually thinking of how to breach the subject and ease him into those murky quicksand depths as gently as he can. Spin, weave a tight net strong enough to keep him aloft from falling in. And Soren himself was relatively content to let him be, not being one for fussing over or needless chatter himself...

That was, until he just couldn't take the heavy silence of melancholy and its oppressive suspense causing all kinds of horrible scenarios to spawn in his head. Maybe Pirin has had a bad vision last night, a prophetic dream about the children, warning of their demise or getting severely hurt?  Maybe something's about to go wrong back home with Alsa? Or something bad is going to befall the two of them during the trek? The faintly mumbled 'I don't have a good feeling.' that the magister gave him upon finally being prompted only confirmed Soren's worries. 

And then a strange new sensation crept on him-- A resurgence in power, in strength that's not normal. As a purple ray enveloped his form, the sensation grew and grew. What the ursine son of the desert assumed to be the Dusk Lord's blessing flaring up from within him, turned out to be something else entirely and separate.

All fatigue, needs, evaporated along with the possibility of ever dying one day--Be it of old age or other ways. Immortal.

Somehow, in that second--Soren distinctly knew that the chance of ever aging at all beyond his current years has been ripped away from him. Never to be given back.

The world would keep going on and change, and he'd stay at teen age for all eternity. Even as the years still take their toll on his mind. And then the 'Truth' coldly stared him in the face like the blackhole it is, resulting in a flurry of questions from him, each meeting its reluctant answer.

The last one was a hard kick to the gut, the full merciless, cold, brunt of the secret the night jinni has been so adamantly coveting to himself. For all their sakes.

—"What are you rattling about?! How're we not real?? How're our lives- WHAT??" -He had ranted and lashed out in total denial, disbelief, pacing back and forth around their campfire for the night. Suddenly, Pirin's voice was grating to his ears and he couldn't stand him, the desert, everything- Overwhelmed, furious and terrified.

Lost.

A soft voice calls his name gently, an attempt to calm him down from his spiraling panic. Pirin had tried to carefully reel him back.

—"Soren.." It didn't work. It only made his mind latch on harder, denial and shock fighting over. Fur bristled and ears flattened back, pupils narrowed to slits in sheer wounded rage as he sharply comes to a stop, snapping, yells. Wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, a thunderous war cry until he has no breath left, angrily waving his hands around in frantic and enraged gesturing.

—"No! No way! You can't just- What about my clan? What about Pops?? Was all that just a lie all along!?" 

"..."

The mournful silence only stoked his rage--grief and confusion. Terror. Helplessness. 

Heaving and staring at the other man, with quick stomping strides--Soren reaches his friend in no time. Standing at his full, imposing height- he grabs the 'magister' by the shoulders with a bruising rough grip. His knuckles had turned white, whole form shaking as everything gets to a boiling point too much to bear. ...So the warrior of the newly infamous clan lets it out, bellows with all his might. A howl for help of a lost, scared man unable to hold it together and stay stoic and quiet. Boys--Men--Don't cry. Crying is for women, babies, helpless and the weaklings. He's neither of those. Should've grit his teeth harder, dealt with it on his own- Should've been strong, stayed strong. Should've persevered through this and won. So Soren roared, gave his best, most ferocious war cry.  Hot, bitter tears had welled at the corners of his eyes. The former Grimmaw child was too caught up in his rage to notice and blink them back or wipe them away.  They roll down his cheeks and chin as his voice cracks.

—"ANSWER ME!"

"...I'm sorry." 

...And Soren, eldest orphan of the Uru clan, former son of the late Grimmaw clan's chieftain, crumbled to smithereens. Crushed under the burden's weight too heavy for his shoulders to bear.

That night, Soren wept like a weak, pathetic, helpless pansy. Like the terrified and lost little boy he felt, held in the vampire's arms. Throughout it all, 'Merlin' patiently stayed quiet, letting him cry, and he clung onto the shorter pallid man desperately in his sobbing. Eventually he had no more tears to shed, drained. Listlessly listened to all the tender comforting nothings the felled star murmured faintly. 

In the end, each and every one of them had to pull it together and shake off the pain that the Truth brings. Oddly enough, there are some who deliberately try to actively put themselves into the sun's grasp and wake up. 

—"I find it rather fascinating and mystifying." One of the half-bearfolk man's ear twitches twice, tuning into Cassadee's continued muttering. "From what has been observed and described of their behaviors, the two entities appear to have assumed distinct roles outside of their respective baseline. Namely, of 'child' and 'adult'--Ioan or 'Pirin' is the evident adult of the duo with the typical traits of that stage. Maturity on both emotional and intellectual level, behavioral basis, responsibility, nurture and guidance, empathy, understanding. Think of a parent or older sibling. 'Rila' in contrast lacks awareness- Innocent, curious, possesses the heartless cruelty present due to lacking understanding of importance, among other traits of childhood."

The Uru warrior and purple-eyed Solitaire exchange a look, mildly dubious.

—"What puzzles me is the line that Berial said at the beginning: "Two sides of the same coin." I'm inclined to interpret his words at face-value as both seem to be the same entity." 

—"That's all fine and dandy, except for the fact that Rila clearly knows what she's doing." The two mages look up at Soren. "I've seen her appear in the desert and go on a rampage, just 'cause she got bored. She knew people would loose their minds when telling them of what we know. Knew it damn well and didn't care, still kept going."

The incident still itches at his mind. The only solution to the crisis was to rush to find Pirin and ask him for help. Ask him to fix the umpteenth catastrophic mess his demonic 'half' is wreaking onto the Ashen Wastes. Because that fiend is far too dangerous to charge at on his own and the chances of getting swept up are high. 

A look of apprehension if not dread settles onto Merlin's former students. Valen and Fay stiffen. 

—"..W-why..? Why would Rila do something like this?" -It's the colorful dancer's voice that breaks the tense quiet. Still trying to assume the best and give the better of the doubt.  —"Because it's 'fun' to watch their reactions and if or how insane they'd go. Her words. Those people are simply playthings for her, like we are." Ignoring how that thing also made literal jaws rise from the ground to eat some of the Maulers and Lightbearers while terrorizing them, laughing maniacally with zero remorse or guilt. Jaws with gnarly teeth, hands. Surprisingly nobody died...physically. Internally? A lot.

It's the whole point as to why the decision was made to convince Merlin of freeing Phraesto and teaming up with plus the other two Hypogeans. Since that day, the Illusionist often acts as a lookout--Warning against that menace the second he spots or senses her presence in the desert. ..And then proceeds to nope out, jump right back into the Dusk Lord's tomb to avoid getting his scorpion hair seriously tangled into a tizzy like last time. Along with having his eyes gauged out in the most sadistic way possible and messed up 'til he can't see straight.

Whatever mind torture Rila did to that Hypogean must've been something else to make him that scared. 

Same as Berial--The mouthy lil brat acts as an alarm system and lookout for Holistone and Rustport. In short, for the Lightbearers. And Reinier covers the Wilders' turf. Lookouts and decoys to keep that terror busy while one of the team members goes to fetch 'Merlin'.

Not fool-proof but works, for now. 

Although it was a bit funny how the Seaside savant went about the issue that time Rila popped up in his hometown--Already in her dragon, shadowy Hypogean creepy form, ready to cause mayhem. The man had just sighed in exasperation, got a broom since he had one on-hand, and shooed off the thing, like it's a typical Monday. Completely unbothered. A reckless idea. Thankfully, he lived. 

Regular day in ye old Rustport, the intel-broker having been assigned by his employer to sweep one of the warehouses of the Carmine Whispers. (With the promise to be paid fairly, of course.) So there Sinbad was, minding his business with sturdy old broom in hand, whistling a happy little tune to himself--Until the distinct sense of deja vu struck. Pausing in his diligent work to investigate, a pair of nice, glowy hot-pink orbs stared right back at him. With utmost curious, diabolical glee.

A particular little 'rat' that has been skittering around town lately and stirring up troubles, almost flipping Rustport on its head...literally. Yup, there the shady lizard is, sitting in the corner with a huge grin and ogling shamelessly. This is the fifteenth time this week, the wretched terror making at least five back-to-back visits each day--Popping in and out not unlike Berial.   Except this one doesn't warn at all. That jester at least makes a noise to announce his presence. 

Sure enough, the pesky menace is already doing her creepy nonsense--Jaws wide open, teeth growing and twisting, falling out with lil' tissue and blood in the cracks on 'em, eyeballs expanding and shrinking, rolling in their sockets sloowly then fast. The whole horror movie nine yards. Those kinds of shenanigans would've freaked out anyone else, however he wasn't buying it. It's been done soo many times by now, that he's gotten desensitized. Or maybe has gone off the deep end himself somewhere along the way. With a tired sigh, already so done with this bullshit-- The blond sailor steps towards the stupid 'rat' calmly, gesturing for it to go away with his free hand . 

—"Alright, get lost. C'on, shoo." The grinning devil crawls up the wall, head turned three hundred-sixty degrees and lolling as it does. Like a centipede or cockroach. Naturally, he tries to swat at it with the broom to get it down. Maybe kill the troublesome fiend, if he swings hard enough. Outer being or not, that little brat has no business in the warehouse or in town.

"There's nothing for you here, get lost. Get." Unfortunately Rila moved too fast and scuttled right up to the ceiling. Drooling.

Some of that disgusting slime falls on his scarf, the same one that his foster mothers had gifted him on his coming of age ceremony. Glancing down at it, the orphan frowns as he attempts to wipe the sludge off but to no avail. (Oh great, just great.) Looking back up, just in time to see another drop of drool fall and step aside, holding the broom like a weapon. "Don't jump on my head." 

And then the thing crawls across the ceiling, scuttling over to the window and outside to jump on someone else's apparently. Already whispering incessantly the great cosmic secrets and cackling. Realizing that hell's about to break loose--Again-- with full Armageddon, he drops the broom and hurries out the door to (hopefully) find that lizard and cut her off before rifts the size of blackholes start appearing all over the place. 

A scream of terror echoes. 

Too late. 

(Should've thought this through better. Note to self: Trap the devil next time. (Or at least try.) )

Another scream, another rift. The weather was starting to act funny.  Things were getting downhill fast and soon someone might even die.

—"Sinbad!" (-And a very peeved Sonja would bite my head off, it seems.) There the curly-haired mafia woman is with Lucca at her side and a bunch of Whispers, already at the scene right as he arrives at the elevator. Another rift tears itself dangerously close to them. In front of them, the endless maddening whispering skittering about it and all the other rifts ripped into reality's fabric.

All across their humble crime-ruled spot of the world. It's like Rila's everywhere at once. Judging by the confused, mildly unsettled looks that flash in the gang's eyes, the chatter is beginning to take its toll. "Don't look or listen to those! Go back inside, too dangerous!" Assuming (hoping and praying) that the blasted devil hasn't left some nice rifts in the manor as well.

"Retreat!" --The scarred rouge calls over his shoulder to them without looking back as he continues to rush, finding Pirin being top priority. The only one who can put a stop to this and fix it. Miraculously, it didn't take long- the faux Magister hanging by the docks of the lower residential district. 

—"Devil's back. Help." -He chokes out between catching his breath, struggling not to panic as seconds tick by with the damage getting more devastating. Doesn't need to see Pirin's face to know the man's frowning tiredly in annoyance at his 'half' and her antics. The star's eerily quiet tenor is flat, stern. Gracefully uncrosses his legs and gets up to his feet, turning to walk towards him. A simple question. A gesture for him to slow down and breathe.

—"Where."  —"Upper district. Moved from there to the docks or plaza." Targeting crowded places. 

In a blink Pirin vanishes and Sinbad races right over there after him, hoping to be of help. Somehow. Arrives right on time to see Rila get mercilessly shot down with sharp needle-like blades made of crystalline flames, connected by thin silk-like threads of that magic that wrap around the dragon's thrashing form. Held to the ground, jaws clamped shut by the threads.

No negotiations, no patient gentleness or attempt at reason like the several times before. Straight to tracking, hunting down and kicking her out. Seizing the trouble-maker by the scruff, Pirin drags the caught being towards the newly ripped rift as it gets morphed into a portal- And throws her into it, closing the rift. 

Footsteps and easy-flowing banter draw the small group's attention to the tree-line of the veiled Haunted forest to see the two love-birds returning. The lively savvy swindler sauntering by his partner's side calmly, having already left the topic alone and moved on to less serious matters. The fallen star on the other hand seems to be still thinking something over, likely ironing out some of its kinks out and finalizing it in his mind. A plan. 

For the hundredth time, Valen's heart skips at the sight of his former charge and a spike of bitter jealousy--Envying that rascal's mad luck. It gets followed up by a pang of inquisitive buzz of excitement and nervousness as the hare-brained idea that has been secretly brewing in the back of his mind, crawls back. 

I really am an avaricious brat, aren't I?  

Not sure if either one or both would be interested... But it is worth putting out on the table. 

—"Hookay. I'll keep this nice and short: I got a hoodwink to help with the 'Devil' problem." Instantly the goofy idea falls to the far backburner, the knight's attention fully directed at the incarnated wandering spirit along with everyone else around the fire.

Funny how they all look like kids in class, ears sharp when listening to the cool and/or favorite teacher. Or meerkats on the lookout.

"Upsides- You get a part of my magic to keep plus abilities, and a way to counter the menace on your own. Drawbacks? This plan is in testing and I'll need to work very closely with you to see if and what needs to be ironed out. I.e, more frequent meetings and having to recall how your attempts went in detail plus how you are being affected. No skipping." Mirael smiles as the two younger mages' eyes light up at the prospect, same as Sinbad's. Soren stays quiet, mulling the offer and weighing it carefully while Valen looks one step away from casually accepting it. Sure it will be more work and business meetings, but how can he possibly complain when it's Pirin? 

—"I volunteer to be Holistone's representative." -He declares confidently with a raise of his hand, giving Fay a cheeky smirk as the geomancer calls 'Veto!' shortly after, pouting at having been beaten to the chance. Meanwhile the Scarlet witch doesn't appear fussed with missing out on the opportunity, content to observe as the two siblings squabble a bit.

—"Valen! I could improve my gem magic with his guidance!" -An unhappy Hail moon star whines, earning herself a playful retort from her older brother which makes her huff. This is a once-in a lifetime chance! Merlin is powerful, without a doubt- But it's apparent that Pirin has a lot more to offer in terms of magic, guidance, knowledge and wisdom due to being a long-lived spirit that has experienced plenty! (Barring the four other lifetimes of his or the other worlds he has visited.)

—"Sorry, Fay- Early bird gets the worm~! Besides, you're already busy studying under the Magister." In all seriousness, both of them know that the woman will find plenty of other opportunities. Still doesn't stop her from pouting though. "Still not fair..." The elite knight sticks his tongue out childishly with a smile and she does the same with a scowl of feigned frustration. Then they laugh at the silliness. 

The Empire is quite the territory to cover. 

—"I volunteer to represent the capitol!" -Cassadee's quiet, soft-spoken voice rings out next without hesitation, seizing the unique chance like a dark horse. The volunteer for the coastal side is obvious. Which leaves the desert areas and the Wilders' territories alongside Remnant Peak.. Pirin silently observes, not fully surprised people are jumping to accept the plan. And then Merlin's apprentice chimes in, catching the present off-guard, her choice of territory even more so. Soren's ears perk up and twitch twice, visible bafflement and surprise on his face at the proclamation. 

—"I volunteer for the Eroded Enclaves!" There's a bright grin on Fay's oval visage, and a gleam of fierce determined competition. Refusing to give up. Almost as though the two mages are having a competition. Makes the brunette's main motive for this endeavor curious..Sure, her desire to get better at gem magic and prove a point is there, absolutely. However there's an odd sense that there's bit more than that to her resolve, maybe trying to impress someone with how well she mastered her 'feeble', blooming magic..

A gleam of surprise, concern but also pride and inquisitiveness flickers in the white-haired scholar's sky-blue gaze as she glances at her. And then gets tiny bit shy and looks back to the 'dutiful moon'. 

Her brother gives her a mildly concerned look, knowing how unforgiving the desert is. It took him a good half a year to adjust while traveling with the 'Magister' and the Uru siblings, during the Song of Strife escapades. Even then, he had just barely started getting used to the climate.

—"Are you sure?" The answer was immediate and resolute. —"Yes." 

—"I'll cover the Ashen Wastes." -Soren's baritone voice slides in next flatly, finally making up his mind. Pirin gives a clipped nod, turning his eyes to the only person whom hasn't spoken up. 

—"Mirael? Your thoughts?"

The former Lyceum pioneer student waves the offer off with a simple smile, not interested in taking part. It's fine to sit back and watch from sideline, lend a helping hand here and there. There's enough work of watching over Ryeham and burning down hypofiends, driving them away anyway. Plus taking care of Merlin so the notorious Arch-mage doesn't do something too reckless or overwork himself. The little hamsters aren't enough, busy with maintaining the Mystical House and keeping it pristine, alongside with caring for the Giga with Dolly. 

—"Thank you, but I'll pass. I'm helping my dear Magister at the House. However I can pass him a message, if you wish?"

—"Yes, please do. Let Merlin know I'll need the Hall of Resonance for the meetings....Also, a friendly reminder to go outside for a few minutes now and then. Thanks, Mirae." At this, Mirael offers back a nod in acknowledgement paired with a muted chuckle at the last quip. Certainly will be sure to pass on the message. Rising from the log and lowering the campfire's intensity, the curvaceous lady gives a playful salute... And with that, the red-head graciously leaves the clearing. Soon enough the desert tribe's secondary chief also takes his leave to find the nearest waystone and teleport home. Probably has sensed the 'odd' jittery tension that hangs around his knightly teammate and didn't want to have to deal with the awkward situation pending. Which leaves just the captain and the two lovebirds by the dimming fire. And if he doesn't act fast, it'll be only him by himself. 

Sitting on the log by the fire and staring into the embers, twiddling his thumbs absently, the dazzling player keeps oddly quiet for a few seconds, lost in thought. Is this really a good idea? Maybe leaving the two alone would be better...Glancing up from around his fringe at the duo as they walk past him, the high-ranking solder feels his confidence dim slightly, watching them banter easily. Not quite listening to what they're exchanging, but the tone is chipper, playful and breezy with a few jokes and friendly-fire quips sprinkled.

Plus a lovey-dovey flirtatious subtext to the mock 'bickering' and the sweet affectionate lilt underneath it all. Basically what some might call 'a married old couple'.

And here he is-- Possibly 'bout to butt in like some annoying third wheel. Most likely. What's worse is that Pirin, the poor sweetheart he is, would feel bad as if leaving him out... 

Seriously, how is it that the guy is clever enough to come up with good battle plans and analysis--And yet be so dense? Not like the vampire's faking it either. Unless the flirting is slightly above subtle, bit more direct--then he won't catch on. Just assume the other person's being affectionate, especially when it comes to the people he views as his friends, or 'homies' like some of the youngsters like to say.

Absolutely ride or die, will drop everything to come and help anyone of them out, stick it through to the end come hell or high water. But by the dear Goddess is it frustrating, trying to get the point across without being obnoxious. 

For a whole week, he's been trying to say 'Hey! I'm into you!'--Dinners (that never got to actually happen. The doll was always busy with Merlin duties or other work.), flirting and playfulness.. Which in hindsight probably looked like typical Valen shmoozer bravado. But the gifts should've been some hint! Right?? I mean, come on! Who else does that? ...Oh, wait- Fay and the Wilders crew have also sent him gifts. And the Uru clan, too. Also Marilee and Mirael from time to time. And Magister Merlin.

Suddenly Valen feels like a fool.

Taking all of this into account, no wonder his behavior gets mixed up. It doesn't help that literally every time he's tried to ask the wanderer on a date face to face, something always cropped up--Either the general got a new mission, or something else duty-related that can't wait or he'd be swamped with paperwork in the office. Or the annual meeting of the Solitaires has come and he didn't notice, as a result having to rush, beeline for the capitol like a madman. 

Meanwhile Sinbad has only very recently joined their little squad and is a friend, yes.. Just not quite 'a homie' yet. And none of that crap.  Lucky bastard devil. 

"I think I figured out why Sonja was never interested in me." 

"Hm? Why?" 

" 'Cause she already had eyes on her bodyguard and got with him." "Really??"

"Aye. Can't miss 'em. I was just too tunnel-visioned to notice it." 

—"Never really thought the lady had it in her, to be honest. She always comes across to me as too busy-not interested in romance." 

—"Ha. The irony." Pirin lightly swats at his shoulder with a small laugh and a half-hearted 'Oh shut it.', the two of them almost passing by the slouched over troubled knight.

Valen's forlorn, gloomy face catches the vampire's attention and he halts, a scowl of mild apprehension settling onto his features. Unhooking his arm from his sailor's, the ghostly 'siren' pads back, causing the other to pause and look back at him with a look of slight confusion. Then his brown eyes land on the brooding Solitaire and it clicks in his head. The scarred intel-trader calmly rejoins his siren's side.  

—"Valyo? You alright?" -A breathless tenor snaps Valen out of his thoughts, almost jumping out of his skin. (Barely registers the silly nickname of endearment. It came up as a half-joke that stuck around similar to 'Romeo' and 'Prince Charmer'. 'Val' and 'Vale' or 'Knave', too.) Followed by a tenor an octave lower and more rugged yet no less worried, echoing in wary agreement.

Understandable, given how often the 'sun' has been terrorizing and the corruption she's known to inflict. Sometimes out of the blue, with no clue it's there until it gets more severe. Can't catch a break these days. —"Yup, you seem off. Everything good?" Their voices honestly startled him for a good second--Only to notice the two mildly concerned pearly and rum-like irises of his friends, Pirin's gloved hand resting on his shoulder. Whatever spiteful courage had come up instantly whizz out, leaving the light-armored charmer a sudden nervous wreck. Partially out of internal panic incoming at having been caught red-handed, realizing he's drawn attention to himself and at being left breathless from the sight. 

Now or never. Now or never. Here goes nothing. Blinking, Valen hurries to quickly straighten out his posture and cover it up with a cough, silently having fingers crossed he doesn't burn bridges in this moment of truth. They'd find out eventually one way or another. ..doesn't make it anymore easy. 

—"Yes! Yes, I'm fine! Don't worry for me! I was just...thinking, over something." -The handsome playboy knight answers back with a smile that comes across as more nervous instead of his usual. Well that didn't sound suspicious at all. Judging by the looks on his two companions, neither was convinced by his half-sputter. Running a hand through his wavy hair and keeping it on his nape, a slight grimace crosses his angular face, knowing he's just cornered himself and no backpedaling will save him.

"Alright, fine- I've been having a hare-brained idea for some time that keeps nagging me." Another feeble attempt at leaving a backdoor to weasel out of. 

—"Just spill the beans already. We promise we won't laugh- We're all crackheads in this team." -That the hardy coastal swindler promptly shuts with a prompt of affable humor. "Right, Vanya?" The man shorter than the two of them, hums cheerily with a light smile.

Two against one? Not very fair.

Looks like the inner conflicting dilemma is done with, now that there's nowhere to run under the duo's expectant gaze. And so the poor outnumbered solder caves in with 'Just don't get mad and hear me out.' muttered under his breath, barely above a whisper. 

—"Here's the thing: I've had a crush on our 'Magister' since I first saw him when General Hogan assigned me as his escort." -He begins, the campfire's dying embers weakly illuminating him, ignoring the simple "Cool." from Rusport's notorious intel-gatherer. Doesn't make a big deal out of the confession, casual smirk still present with a brief raise of the burly brows. However the subtle glimmer is there, a silent warning. Valen presses on, raising his hands in defense as a 'Chill out', keeping his tone even. As for Pirin, the spirit doesn't appear too excited, nor judgmental.

—"I've tried to express my interest several times, however something always happened. It was like a curse! And recently the idea of polyamory appeared in my mind, haunting me since relentlessly--It's fairly popular in the capital. So I guess I'm curious to hear your thoughts on perhaps giving it a try..? See if it works?"

Sinbad's breezy smirk has faded, hands on hips in what can be interpreted as mild disapproval. Definitely not enthusiastic about the idea, not quite annoyed either. Not very happy in any case.

Pirin's owl-like grey eyebrows pinch together subtly into a pout of mild confusion and uncertainty. Reluctant, weighing and doing a thorough analysis in his mind. Sorting out his thoughts on the matter and carefully putting them in a cohesive order. Likely also attempting to make sense of the ordeal, what to even make of it. One way or the other, it's plain obvious he'd stick with his 'Jolly sailor Bold'. Doesn't hurry to respond, fallen into 'observer mode', gathering as many perspectives to reflect in hopes of getting the bigger picture. So the blond easily slides in, keeping his voice level-headed. Neutral. As though humoring him with a hypothetical scenario. And blunt, not very convinced. 

—"I guess we could. 'Don't knock it 'til you try it' as they say." Not flat out rejection.. "You might find yourself drowned in trouble, though- Given our track record as magnets for it." Then goes straight for the throat, using humor as friendly teasing. Beneath it, the note of sternness isn't lost on Valen. And it makes sense. Still doesn't make it more pleasant to be voiced aloud, however.

"Jokes aside- I doubt this thing would pan out. I think it's obvious we're both attracted to Pirin here, not each other. So it's really less of a 'polyamory' and more of a 'triangle'. To me- this whole thing sounds like a free pass to third-wheel us, no offense." 

—"None taken, fair enough. Then I suppose that's a 'no' from you?" -The lilac-eyed Solitaire quips somewhat defensively, making the other man bristle a little. A flash of teeth not too unlike a dog. 

What do you see in this con artist Vanyusha? —"Hey! If it was, I would've said so! Don't put words into my mouth, yeah?"-Then finishes in a calmer tone of low, clear tenor, gesturing with a hand- palm up. Kind of like a shrug. "I'm just laying my cards on the table, that's all." Maybe putting this suggestion out there truly wasn't the best idea after all. The fishy hustler has made a very good point- It probably won't work. They'd be at each other's throat more like rivals while trying to hide it under witty banters and mock spars, to make it seem like just horsing around in front of their shared partner. 

Or maybe we'd get along swimmingly once I get used to Sinbad's particular bluntness and much sharper humor, crass or bit obnoxious as it is, due to our culture and lifestyle disparity. 

Shoulders relaxing, the adventurous street-rat glances down at his partner, expression softening slightly along with his voice that takes a quiet note. That same gentleness that Valen envies and yearns for at the same time--Love. Simple, sincere, unconditional and unwaveringly lasting.

Once again bias strikes: How can this perpetually coinless, messy and unrefined, stinking scoundrel who greedily relies on the generosity of others, have attained what he has been struggling to grasp for weeks & longer?

What does Pirin see in this rouge, that he doesn't have or can't offer? 

Chances are I look like a frivolous fop to the intel-trader in turn. Vanya has his reasons. I'm simply being jealous. 

Still stings.

"Besides, I'm not the one who calls the shots solo." Let's hear Pirin's two cents on this.

—"...I'm not sure this would work either, but am willing to try-If, heavily tentative. What bothers me is that you would be--or feel like being unwanted or unwelcome when there comes a day where..." Falters, pauses for a quick second to get his thoughts organized.

By this point, most of the team is aware of him being a vampire and the little 'kinks' that come alongside it aside from the specialized diet. Namely, the whole bonding 'issue' which doesn't allow for polyamory on a biological level...and also psychological to a very large extent.

Something that's taken incredibly seriously, as a vampire's bonded partner- Is literally that individual's life-long partner with no return or cheating. The very reason why vampires had gone down in numbers faster than fairies did in the span of a single century during the slaughter.

"I inevitably have to bond, and will choose Sinbad. Once that point arrives, the arrangement would be rendered null, its purpose defeated. Or this is my perspective on the matter, at the very least." Looking up from the grass of the clearing and embers, the deeply contemplative look in his irises remains as he meets those of his former knight.

—"..Unless you are okay, knowing this...? Also- Isn't polyamory heavily frowned upon in Holistone? Seen as immoral and promiscuous?" 

—"While I admit it does sting, I would still be content with being your partner. Even if secondary." And on the off-chance the 'arrangement' falls apart--I'd be fine with being simply both your friend and wingman. At least then I'd know I tried instead of running away.  Carefully, the former mercenary takes one of the spirit's hands in his own.

"As for whether it's scorned in Holistone- It is, unfortunately. However, who says the people have to know our private affairs anyway? We can simply say we're close friends and tone down the intimacy a notch when in public, get away with the excuse. At most, the three of us would be deemed as eccentrics in a way.

Give it some time, and polyamory will gradually begin to be seen as something mundane rather than a big deal, maybe an eyeroll or crass jab here and there." 

—"So we're all on the same page then?" -The Seaside savant chimes in all too casually, startling his siren out of his thoughts. Valen wrestles with himself to not get jealous- again- as the tanned Captain places his hands on the 'Magister's' hips, resting his chin on the other's shoulder. These two are already pretty much an established couple, it's him who's shaken up the status quo here. It's normal for them to be intimately romantic with each other.

Envy still doesn't listen to rationality, however.

It only merely flares up as Pirin relaxes and lightly leans back, a soft smile of sweet amused fondness playing on his lips, reaching a hand to affectionately ruffle the sailor's messy hair. Or when he cards his fingers through it, smoothing back the adventurer's bangs, out of his face with care.

"Good-'Cause I wanna make one thing clear. No threesomes, no negotiations." The snowy-haired much shorter man halts his ministrations with a look of surprise on his soft face, absolutely red. Sputters, or squeaks out a very embarrassed 'Sinbad! Can't just blurt it out!' under his hitched breath. The swindler's hands lightly squeeze his sharp hips in response as wordless apology. 

—"Fair enough- I wouldn't have asked for it either."

Romance has always somehow made him bit squeamish, or maybe more like the notion of full commitment to someone. Either way, there's something about engaging in sexual acts with multiple partners that simply...doesn't click with him.

Fooling with, romancing multiple people and bedding them, are two different stories.

Although you could have worded it a smidge more tactfully rather than blurting it out. And because he can't resist being his usual cheeky self, Valen goes on to playfully tease.

—"I suppose that makes me your second boyfriend with financial benefits, then." A snort. The three of them start to walk up the trail back to Southville after ensuring the dead embers don't cause another wildfire.

As they saunter up the worn, downtrodden trail leading back to the village, the nocturnal being forces himself to pad at a steadier pace. While his partners stride at his sides with leisurely gait, enjoying the scenery. Until their love couldn't take it anymore and briskly sauntered up ahead a few steps then paused to wait for them, falling back relatively in-step.

Valen loops an arm around his..their? boyfriend's shoulder, pulling the restless ball of energy close, inwardly noting how calm his 'rival' is about it. Full trust, not a speck of jealousy or possessive protectiveness. Instead the dust-blond is perfectly fine with retorting in matching lark, holding the vampire's hand calmly, fingers laced. 

—"Sure, if you don't mind paying the bill." 

—"Don't threaten me with a good time, Sinbad."  —"You two mind the rounds, or you're getting to snore in the garden."   

And the two trouble-makers quickly pin this warning in mind, knowing well it's not an empty threat. 

[lara-kaminari]

Excerpt from chapter 11 of: "The serpent and his forbidden fruit".

Or, the first time Ominis and Catalina almost kiss.

—Tell me something else. —Ominis proposed. —Read my fortune in love.

—Love?

—So I'll know if your predictions are true.

—My word alone is not enough?

Ominis smiled mischievously and offered me his hand again. This time I would not take him seriously. I began to trace circles on his palm with my finger, just playing a little.

—I need clarity on what you want to know. —I said, lowering the volume of my voice.

—Can't you just know? —Ominis asked, pulling his body closer to me. Not that it was necessary, we were already very close and in the library there was only silence; his voice had that hypnotic teasing tone I liked to hear.

I resume my reading, letting my fingers glide gracefully. As I moved on, I heard his breathing become more ragged: my nearness seemed to affect him in a way I hadn't anticipated.

—Maybe; maybe I do see something: a woman.

Ominis' eyelashes are long, the perfect complement to her opal eyes. Her face is so close to mine that I can now see it in detail.

—And is she beautiful?

—Does it matter?

—I'm just curious.

—I'm afraid that's just up to your interpretation.

—Something tells me you're out of practice. —Ominis said; in a clever move he was now holding my hand. I was so distracted that it was easy for him to turn the tables. —I'll show you how to read a love prediction.

—You can't see.

—I know how to use my hands to feel everything.

Merlin.

Ominis ducked his head as if he could really look. However, the trace of his fingers on my palm made it clear that he could perceive every little line as if it were Braille. In a few seconds I found myself as much into his prediction as he was into mine.

—I see here... A path full of possibilities, it looks like a bright and exciting future awaits you.

His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if he were sharing an intimate secret. I gasped for a moment, surprised by the sudden proximity and the suggestive tone in his voice.

—What else do you see?

—In the theory of physics it is announced that even small objects can make big changes; a woman like you, small and delicate as a wildflower, you strongly attract those around you and make them fall for no reason. —Said Ominis. —You attract just like the myth of the Adam's apple, and the first one to taste of the forbidden fruit will open a door you had closed: Your chance to love.

His words faded to a whisper, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as he allowed the gravity exerted by the earth to merge me with him. An electric current passed between us, charged with a palpable tension that neither of us could ignore.

I closed my eyes, opened my arms to whatever that physical force had for me and my lips began to tingle at the shock that was now inevitable.

Surprise! It's a fanart 😈 I mean, I did it hehe. That background is NOT mine, I'm not that far along 🤣 I had to google "big window good lighting" and that's what came up ahshzhs BUT everything else is mine ;).

I still don't understand about outlining and shadows, and I have to draw on a sheet of paper first and then upload it to the computer and follow the lines but hey, it's a cool result.

[merlinemrys]

@adhd-merlin replied to your post “honestly i’ve been reading a lot of gen merlin...”:

Any recs? :3

​for you?? always!! some of these might have minor/background arwen <3

Speak (With) Your Mind by s0mmerspr0ssen (6k)

Summary: When Merlin sets out to teach mindspeech to Arthur, he couldn't have known just how much it would affect the friendship between King and Court Mage.

Only Friend by CaptainOzone (60k)

Summary: What if Arthur went after Merlin in the tunnels outside of Ealdor earlier? What would he think of the confrontation between him and Agravaine? And how will he deal with the revelation as they retake Camelot? 4x13 AU.

Allow One to 'See' by mollrach13 (28k)

Summary: When the King is attacked in his tent on patrol and falls into an unending sleep everyone is worried. What they don't know is that Arthur is fine. In fact he is standing right here next to them, watching them all fret over his prone body. To stave off the boredom whilst a cure is found Arthur takes to wandering the castle and soon discovered a hidden side of Camelot he never knew about. Or: Arthur's soul gets trapped outside his body and takes to following his servant around. He gets an interesting insight into Merlin, his servant's life and just how much Camelot needs the man.

The Champion of the Arcane Dominion by Princess_Cocoa (81k)

Summary: When the well-being of Camelot's greatest hangs in the balance, Merlin undergoes the trial of the Arcane Dominion. He is alone, forced to enter a magical realm and confront a dangerous enemy in order to save his friends. Little does he know, those very friends are watching his every move. Trapped by the magic of the trial, Arthur and the knights are made to witness Merlin's journey - and discover some uncomfortable secrets along the way.

scorch marks and embers by southfarthing (93k)

Summary: Everyone he trusted with his secret – Will, Freya, Balinor, Lancelot, and now Gaius – was gone. Arthur would never bring magic back to the land, and he would never let Merlin stand at his side the way Merlin had hoped he would. It was a cold awakening, years of baseless faith dashed against the fraying tapestry that destiny had made Merlin sew into his own skin, but an awakening nonetheless. Merlin is shaken out of his obsession with destiny and his blind faith in Arthur. Arthur just wishes he knew how to get his closest friend back.

The Hands of the Enemy by N16 (46k)

Summary: When Arthur accepts an invitation to a nearby kingdom where magic is free, he hopes to establish an alliance despite their differences. Instead, he and his knights find they’ve been invited under false pretenses, and the queen may succeed in turning friend against friend to accomplish her own aims.

[4uru]

Yet To Be Named

Chapter 1: Zimo and the Singing Angels.

Enjoy

Taglist: @thevagabondexpress @faithfromanewperspective @light-wayland @what-ho-christopher-put-in @alastairstom @tleeaves @fangirlghost-19

(comment if u have any story name ideas bc I sure don't.)

It was a cold night. Zimo was breathing through his mouth, his nose was blocked. His lips were cracked and his throat was dry. The cold was making his eyes hurt. At least Hell had central heating.

If you're wondering how he knew, well it's a long story actually.

You see, Zimo's mother was the antichrist. And his grandfather is the devil. You know from The Bible. His antichrist of a mother left him in front of an orphanage as a baby, with just a piece of paper with his name written Ha Zimo and nothing else and somehow passed the mantle of the Antichrist on to Zimo. Which was shitty of her. And she didn't even leave him outside a nice childless couple's house like those movies. No, she left him outside “Singing Angels Orphanage for boys” and boy, wasn’t that ironic as fuck. There are no angels in that godforsaken place.

Zimo, being born with a biblically accurate misfortune, was the punching bag for the other boys until he hit his growth spurt and became taller than the other boys and also learnt how to hold his ground.

Before he learnt how to fight the universe would fight for him, some tree branches would conveniently fall, and sometimes the light wouldn't quite fall on him, helping him melt into the background of the dreary halls of Singing Angels.

He didn't get adopted in the beginning because he was too round, And later because he was too old. They don't pick the older one. Especially not a 6’2” Chinese Giant. Zimo did not fit the white suburban dream family. And no Asian couples wanted him because he was too much of a British orphan, he didn't know the formality that they wanted. He didn't fit any of their moulds.

Zimo learned to make a corner of the orphanage home. From the back room loft in the church, nobody could see him there. But he could see everything. Only the face of one of the angels statues was faced where he would set up camp. It was a nice cozy space just big enough for Zimo to settle in with his comic books that he stole that one time they let the children roam the city.

But don't get your spirits down. Because, one day, a man in a very expensive suit walked through the doors of the orphanage. And adopted our young protagonist. Things were looking up for Zimo. The man was filthy fucking rich. Zimo packed up his 2 t-shirts, 1 jumper, and 3 comic books and sat in the passenger seat of the Ferrari.

The man was nice. Too nice. He had a smile that didn't quite reach his dead dark eyes. But who was Zimo to complain? He was out of that hell hole. He was out of reach of the bullies that roamed the halls of Singing Angel. He would never have to hide in the dingy cupboards and the dark classrooms. He would not have to eat the shitty food with a secret ingredient (hate). Zimo was free. And filthy fucking rich, baby.

So it turns out, the old man had a mansion. Which was cool. But you see, Zimo had a rule, good people didn't live in palaces. He quickly checked his skill set. If this man turns out to be a tosser, Zimo was big and competent enough to fight his way out. He had nothing to lose anyway. He might be 14 but he could easily pass for an adult. The man was alright. For the most part. Zimo ate good food three times a day. They talked and he didn't hit Zimo. It was all fine and dandy. Well…until the portal to hell, Zimo stumbled upon in the library.

It was all going so well before the portal to hell in the library! So yeah. Turns out the mansion is a portal to hell; the man is his grandfather, The devil, From the bible. Judging from Lucifer's big evil monologue he performed in front of Zimo at the library, Zimo was the anti-Christ. And also Merlin, the greatest Warlock to walk the earth. And it's his responsibility to bring Armageddon (how does one even do that?) yada yada yada. Just when Zimo thought he got out of the god-forsaken hellhole. He literally drove into the literal god-forsaken hell in a fucking Ferrari.

Now before you judge Zimo for staying in the mansion that had a portal to the actual hell. The food was good and the mattresses were even better. The devil had good taste… and he was family. Zimo liked the mansion for the most part. But he avoided the library (the blood-curdling screams of the tormented souls brought the vibe down, you know?) It was all good.

Until Lucifer drugged him and brought him to a different mansion that looked the bloody same but had a red ambience (The devil was dramatic)

Lucifer demanded that Zimo learn magic and get ready to well, bring armageddon. Zimo went with it. (Hell also had good food and a good mattress) and there is not much Zimo won't do for a comfortable life. So he learnt magic.

He liked the fear in Lucifer's eyes when his magic would go overboard and give good ol Satan a run for his money.

So turns out, Zimo had an insane amount of Magic. Which he pulled from his surroundings. Hell being Hell, it amplified his magic. Which was…fun. Zimo liked that he felt weightless when the magic flowed through his veins. It tasted amazing. The air smelt like burnt wood. It was intoxicating. The force of it would make him close his eyes. But he would become much more aware of his surroundings. Like he was connected to everything around him. Zimo decided that he liked magic.

Then good old Grandpa Satan busted out the Tome of Evil™, it contained the most powerful spells in all the realms, but it was also a key. Without it, Lucifer wouldn't know how to travel between the realms and would be trapped inside his red mansion. And who could blame Zimo when he took the big Evil™ tome and ran away with it? He is the grandson of the devil. It's on Grandpa Lucy that he didn't see this coming.

If you're asking Why Zimo ran away, well dear readers, it's because Zimo did not have a fucking clue about how to bring on the end of the world. And it was pretty clear that the only reason Lucifer was keeping him alive and around was because he thought Zimo did. And it was only a matter of time before he would realise Zimo wasn't the big bad Antichrist. He was just a British orphan from Singing Angels who liked reading comic books and the genealogy chapter in his biology textbook.

The tome was heavy. And the evil™ book was leaking magical energy. It took Zimo a stupid amount of time to realise that the magical energy could be used for heat.

The night was bearable. He settled under a bridge. It smelt terrible. But beggars can't be choosers. Zimo used his magic to make the boulder he was leaning on softer. He made his jumper warmer, and let sleep take over him.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Twisted Tales: Set in Stone Review

What if Arthur wasn’t meant to be king?

This took awhile to get to as it was only sold in the UK and Australia but I finally got my hands on it! Set right after Arthur pulls the sword out of the stone, Arthur is having a hard time adjusting to royal duties. Sure, he got Excalibur but it doesn’t mean he knows what he’s doing. Worse is that since his fight with Merlin, his mentor has been off in Bermuda. Arthur has truly been on his own.

Unbeknownst to him, the sword is not the famous Excalibur but a clever fake planted by Madam Mim so that she could choose a nice patsy to pull out the sword that she could easily control. She hadn’t realized that patsy was Merlin’s protegé who immediately rejects her suggestions to prove his kingly authority by going to war. But she had a plan b, her adopted daughter Guinevere will be the one to stick to Arthur’s side and get him off the throne.

I found the premise interesting but the first chapters felt cliché albeit in-character. For instance, Arthur shows off his first gesture of wisdom and kindness by figuring out the true owner of chicken bug suggesting the two feuding neighbors to cut it in half. Straight out of the Bible. And Guenivere’s story of being kidnapped as a baby and raised by a witch is straight out of Rapunzel’s tale including her daughterly love of Madam Mim who has turned her against Merlin by telling her that the wizard killed her parents and put this pretender, Arthur on the throne. Thus prompting a semi enemies to lovers as Guenivere initially believes Arthur is the enemy but soon comes to know his real character and believes he’s an unwitting pawn so she’s stuck in the difficult situation of wanting to help him but keeping her initial intentions a secret. But things get interesting later on when Arthur and Guenivere time-travel to the Bahamas in the 21st century. Arthur and Guin’s amazement and horror at 21st century clothing and hotels was funny and allowed for a more interesting plot twist of them returning home to a find a new shapeshifting pretender on the throne. Plus Guin grappling with the truth about Madam Mim and her childhood of lies.

So while the plot itself doesn’t feel the most original, the characters and their development is engaging. Arthur gets the bulk of the character development, starting as an unsure kid who doesn’t feel prepared for the role and wants to run away. But he stays because even though he doesn’t have the physical strength or courage others (and he) believe a king should possess he has Merlin’s lessons to guide. To lead with love, kindness and knowledge. Most of all, he cares. He understands that he has to lead because he cares about England and that if he left the throne, it would be to unthinking, might makes right brutes like Kay. There are also some heartbreaking moments like when Kay and Ector challenge Arthur to a dual for the throne which he reflects how much he wanted to earn his foster family’s admiration only to understand he’ll never get it. But the triumphant thing is Arthur coming to realize he does deserve the throne and to be more confident. Not because he pulled a sword from stone but because he is capable.

Guin’s characterization reminded me a lot of the one from the Merlin tv show. She’s kind, and generous but she has strong morals and backbone of steel in fighting for those morals and the ones she loves. Her background of being a princess of Summer County whom Mim stole because of the family’s strong fairy blood. But Guinevere shuns magic, it actually scares her despite the potential she has in small bouts of shapeshifting. Even though it fits with the Arthurian legends as Guinevere was a regular queen, not a sorceress queen but it feels like there is lost potential in seeing her do magic since twisted tales is all about doing new things to canon. Nonetheless, I liked her journey of realizing the truth about her childhood and her willingness to go against her adopted mother’s wishes once she realizes she’s wrong. Even though she’s in denial most of the time or trying to explain alternate reasons for Mim’s behavior before she accepts the truth. Because it is hard for Guinevere to accept the truth. While Arthur and Merlin see Mim for her madness and destruction, Mim was like a mother to her. An eccentric, playful woman. Mancusi’s characterization is wonderful as Mim’s villainy is different from classic Disney villains. She’s not in it for power or fame or money. She just enjoys chaos, everything is a game to her. Which makes her more unpredictable, more dangerous and more heartbreaking when Guin realizes Mim kidnapping and raising her was just another game of Mim playing mentor, tearing her away from her family for selfish whims.

Finally, Arthur and Guin’s relationship is simply so sweet and wholesome even though Guin’s lying about her intentions for the first few chapters. They have so much in common from being commoners taught by sorcerers to their innate sense of fair play and kindness.

In fact, the humor and fun shout outs to Arthurian are the highlights of the book even though some parts of it felt like other Disney tales with Arthurian aesthetic.

[meanypunches]

This piece below is a review of the John le Carré book Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, and I admit it is only tangentially related to ‘horror’, however that tangent is quite strong as it centers on both folklore and ‘the Unmarked Space’, both central to modern ideas about horror. Luhmann’s “meaning thesis” he tells us “excludes . . . absolute void, nothingness, chaos in the original sense of the word, and also . . . [Spencer-Brown’s concept of] the ‘unmarked state’ of the world.” (Theory of Society, Vol 1, p. 21) However, “a distinction does not negate what it does not indicate. It proposes it as ‘unmarked space.’” (TOS v.1 p. 133) “All observation . . . separates off an ‘unmarked space’ into which the ultimate horizon of the world withdraws.” (TOS v.1 p. 139) Communication itself generates the ‘unmarked space’, the other side of the distinction. Counterintelligence, the other side of intelligence (spy) work, is an effort to create an ‘overmarked space’ through generation of noise and misinformation to make any serious research of a subject difficult. If you increase the number of observations you are increasing the ‘unmarked space’ by necessity. You can see this has happened with UFOs. This could be due to government desire to keep secret projects secret, or if you are a UFO believer, it’s because the government wants to keep its crashed UFO retrieval program and reverse engineered alien technology a secret. I won’t pick sides in that debate (though I do favor one explanation over the other) but mostly point out that you might now see how the overmarked space resembles the Unmarked Space and this connects to horror, or the unknown. Folklore too touches on the unknown and the ‘dark wood’ or the Unmarked Space. Below is my review also on Amazon and Goodreads, of the ‘folklore-heavy’ John le Carré book Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy:

Gary Oldman’s impeccable taste in early 70s eyewear notwithstanding, this book is much better than the 2011 film version. It’s interesting that Oldman’s choice in specs echoes the real life Kim Philby, the true-to-life mole at the heart of British intelligence. (Google for a picture if you like.) Le Carré’s fictional description here plays with the idea of “the real world” vs “the Circus”. (p. 110) Within the Circus too there is the distinction between “the official memory” (p. 147) - what’s written down in the bureaucratic reports - as opposed to the individual memories and stories as related by the agents. Despite this “official” bureaucracy, much that happens in “the Circus” remains part of an oral tradition, or as they say, ‘folklore’. The book too plays with literate notions about ‘fairy tales’ as a label to denote a false or childish story told to a credulous audience. If you’ve studied folklore you know that Märchen are defined as incredulous stories, but “legends” are told to an audience as if true. The intelligence trade idea of “legends” is connected in the text to the tall tales agents tell about themselves and each other. (p. 217) Most of the action is related through dialogue between the characters, telling stories, some true and some not. The suggestion of folklore in the children’s rhyme of the title is carried to the extremes of ‘magic’ and superstition. “Witchcraft” and “Merlin” are watched over by “owls” and “juju men”. The idea of a “mole” in combination with the “owls” also suggests animal fables. Like animals, spies inhabit a “secret world” that to ordinary people borders on the supernatural. This is the ‘dark wood’ of counterintelligence and disinformation. To dig deeper, we might wonder how this entire story is itself a type of ‘fairy tale’ about the Cold War and British Intelligence. The Americans are both loathed and desired, but nothing more than a shadow in the background of this book. Unlike in the film, the book does not accuse Americans of having people tortured. This and the change to Guillam’s character and subplot in the film seem to me now as hyperbolic caricatures that insult the novel’s carefully constructed historical verisimilitude. Rumors about Bill Hayden going “both ways” are not “laughable”, yet hardly a desperate, career-destroying secret. (p. 198) Still, in real life the mole Kim Philby was only fully unearthed with the help of a Soviet defector. The fairy tale version told here is that the day is carried nearly in its entirety by the astonishing mind and tradecraft of George Smiley, “a fat, barefooted spy”, (p. 378) which suggests the phrase (in a folkloric sense) ‘barefoot and pregnant’. “Control’s grey-haired ladies”, his receptionists and secretaries, are called “the mothers”. (p. 138) We have the notion of toilet training expressed in folklore about ‘treasure hunts’, and the training center for spies is called ‘the Nursery’. Sometimes spies need ‘babysitters’ to keep them safe. The illusions of childhood are cast in sharp relief against an adult ‘game’ fueled chiefly by intelligence, information or “treasure” but occasionally violence, rumor and gossip. As noted, ‘gold’ or ‘treasure’ in folklore has been described as a Freudian cover for excrement. Spies are constantly trying to pass excrement (“chickenfeed”) to the other side disguised as ‘gold’. (p. 352) The ‘babysitters’ keep an eye on the spies while they play at digging for ‘gold’. Roll up into a little ball the idea that the “tinker tailor” children’s rhyme is descended from premodern forms of divination, forecasting or what we in the modern world like to call ‘risk management’ or even ‘control’—now you’ve got the bare outline of an academic article in your hands, also a kind of ‘gold’ in the world “of the juju men, . . . anyone with intellectual pretensions”. (p. 14) In an oral society, memory (and memorable phrases, what literary society might call ‘clichés’) are important.

If ‘the juju men’ are about pretension, the “owls” are about memory. The book tells us that Smiley, “[a]fter a lifetime of living by his wits and his considerable memory, . . . had given himself full-time to the profession of forgetting.” (p. 83) Memory and childhood too are inextricably bound. “In [Smiley’s] memory, these things were like part of childhood; he would never forget them.” (p. 115) Having myself lived through the closing chapters of the Cold War as a child, this resonates on multiple levels. Smiley wears his doubts on his sleeve—“Nothing is worth the destruction of another human being. Somewhere the path of pain and betrayal must end.” (p. 377) But Smiley’s doubts are a good thing in this uncertain, modern world. His mentor, Control, tells him, “I like you to have doubts . . . But don’t make a cult of them or you’ll be a bore.” (p. 233) In contrast, Smiley’s adversary “Karla is . . . a fanatic . . . And . . . that lack of moderation will be his downfall.” (p. 235) Lack of moderation, lack of love—“Illusion? Was that really Karla’s name for love?” (p. 401) Fairy tales and folklore too are often thought of as romance or love stories deemed a type of illusion by society’s ‘official memory’, but a bureaucracy that starves its people of love becomes a cult, and leaves room only for fanatics.

[therubyreader]

My Review of Legendborn by Tracy Deonn

See a full list of my book reviews here

*Disclaimer: there will be spoilers later on in the review*

Review Word Count, non-spoiler: 824 Review Word Count Total: 1,432

So, I caved. After seeing all the hype that Legendborn was getting both on here and on TikTok I was finally convinced to read it despite the fact that I’m not a fan of Arthurian legends or really anything medieval for that matter and honestly, it does live up to the hype. Especially if you’re like me, and were weirdly obsessed with that Disney Channel movie, Avalon High, back in the day, this book has the same exact vibes and a very similar premise. Also, sidenote, I was Googling the movie to make sure I was remembering the title correctly, I found out it was originally a book written by Meg Cabot, aka the author of The Princess Diaries, so do with that information what you will. 

The book introduces us to Bree Matthews, a 16-year-old girl grieving the loss of her mother after she died in a tragic car accident. Her grief drives her away from home and to UNC-Chapel Hill, a university that has an early college program for promising high school students. On her first night there, she witnesses a flying demon that feeds on human energy get taken down by a group of teenagers, called Legendborn (roll credits), decedents of the knights of King Arthur with incredible abilities. When one of the teenagers, a Merlin, tries to wipe her memory of the night and it doesn’t work, Bree remembers this same magic was used on her the night her mother died. Realizing that there is more to her mother’s death than what she was originally led to believe, she infiltrates the Legendborn society on campus with the help of Nick, a self-exiled Legendborn, as they discover the secrets of the society while on the brink of a magical war between the demons and Legendborn. 

Like I said earlier, this book is great, definitely worth the hype it’s getting, it’s a great modern interpretation of Arthurian legends with a good amount of diversity that is treated respectfully and realistically. Of course, the most obvious one is Bree, a black girl, who is not only going through this magical adventure but being black and navigating the world and the magical adventure. Not to give too much away outside of the spoiler section but Bree’s background and the history of black people as a whole in the US is a big part of the plot and Bree’s journey which I think is beautiful. As a non-black POC I think that part of Bree’s story was done so well, and I can really sympathize with her despite not being able to explicitly relate. There’s also a nonbinary character in the book named Greer and I honestly didn’t fully realize they were nonbinary because they were so seamlessly integrated into the story that I didn’t bat an eye at the use of they/them pronouns. And there are also queer characters who are unapologetically queer, and happy, and just being people, their identities are very much a part of their character but not their whole character.  

And, for being the author’s debut novel, it honestly isn’t written like one, the writing is good and easy to follow so you become immersed in the world very easily. I will say the prologue is written a bit like a 2010s, Wattpad story and some of the rest of the book has the same vibes from time to time but it honestly isn’t a big deterrent. I will though, complain about the love triangle because I hate almost all love triangles and think they’re bad. I might’ve said this before, but I think most love triangles are a cheap way to make your plot more exciting (which this book did not need at all, it’s exciting enough as is) especially when one of the potential partners is a genuinely nice person and the other one is very obviously a POS. Honestly, the whole book could’ve done without it, the writing and story were compelling enough to where a love triangle wasn’t needed to fill in any spots that were lacking and I was going to talk more about why I specifically don’t like certain characters as love interests but I noticed that this fandom is violent about shipping so I will keep it to myself.  

Overall, I do recommend the book to anyone who’s looking for a fresh take on Arthurian legends or YA fiction and can stomach your standard amount of blood and violence. There are descriptions of violence experienced by slaves and general racism so be warned. Besides the aforementioned love triangle beef I have, and the fact that there is some Welsh that doesn’t get translated into English which was a pet peeve of mine even more so now that I have made a Welsh friend after I returned the book to the library, so I’ll just never know. I will give this book an it’s very good and worth all the hype out of ten. 

Spoilers Below!!

Ok, let’s talk a little bit about the love triangle. I will preface this with the fact that Bree is 16 and hasn’t really experienced any romantic attention up until this point so she’s acting how a regular 16-year-old would act in that situation, and I know full well that 16-year-old me wouldn’t have been any smarter. That being said, I honestly think that Sel is a bad choice based on his actions in this book alone (yes, I have read the second one but I’m not going to talk about it here). This man literally spent the majority of the book trying to kill her and sent literal demons after her, but they slow danced once, and he called her “cariad” now y’all are foaming at the mouth. This isn’t hate towards Sel as a character, mostly, but like, come on. That’s all I’m saying because this fandom is violent, and I like living.  

Moving on to things that don’t make me mad! Let’s just take a moment to appreciate Bree’s root. I absolutely loved how the author wove in traditional African and African American spiritual practices into a world where the knights of the roundtable were magical beings and the contrast, chef’s kiss. We have root where the users give back the magic they use, make offerings, and talk to their ancestors regularly versus aether which is just taken. There is a great metaphor here about colonialism and world history as a whole, but I’m not going to go deep into that and get too radical in a book review so I’m going to let you all just think on it.  

Another thing I really liked about the book was how real the characters felt, all of them were unique individuals with distinct personalities and motivations. Not all the characters were necessarily good people, some were honestly horrible and evil, but you can understand where they’re coming from even if you don’t agree, a la “cool motive, still murder”. I did like that in the story the villain wasn’t evil just because, he had a reason to want to be evil, but it honestly made for a more enjoyable story especially when you contrast Nick’s dad with the demons who are evil just because. Also, just a side note on Mr. Davis being the villain all along, that was so unexpected but made so much sense when he explained his evil plan, I think it was a fun surprise that I hadn’t predicted in the beginning.  

Of course, I have to talk about the twist at the end where it turns out that Bree is Arthur’s scion and not Nick, mind blowing. There’s something, I don’t know how to describe it, but karmatic about a black girl being the king of the round table after her ancestor was raped by the scion of Arthur all those years ago. That old slave owner couldn’t have ever predicted that his disgusting actions would one day see a black girl as the head of his secret organization, so take that horrible man. On top of that, the organization as a whole is pretty racist, just the way that it’s all white and how they treat Bree and Sarah’s dad, so double take that racists, a black girl is your king.  

Moral of the story, read this book for a YA adventure mixed with serious real-world topics and a lovable cast of characters. Everyone who is hyping this book online is correct and I highly recommend getting your hands on a copy especially since there are rumors that the last book in the series will be released sometime next year.  

[aceraphale]

THE FINDING OF WILL BYERS

we all know that in season 3, will was moved from the center stage to the bleachers, watching passively everything that happened. now, the duffers have implied that season 5 will have will as the central character, he is the missing piece in the plot that still has no answer. and yet they have also said that they want to go back to season 1’s teams and dynamics, which seems to mean that will is going to get alienated once again as el, mike, dustin and lucas are the OG party.

i’m going to analyse the themes of the characters and seasons, and what they mean for will’s own arc, as he is the one member of the main cast that has been used more as a plot device than as a character driven by his own desires and feelings.

THE SEASONS VS WILL

there’s a reason you hide from them.

season 4 has been an almost exact parallel of season 2, with one glaring exception: in s2, will was the main character; in s4, will was the gay best friend a background character. but none of these statements are actually true.

since season 1, will has been a plot device. the literal plot of the show starts with his disappearance.

then in s2 he takes the spotlight, but that doesn’t mean he is a character. the visions and his possession move the plot and the character forwards, and his actions have consequences in all the subplots. his central emotion is fear, and when he does try to face it, he ends up getting possessed and is back to square one. he tries to lie but can’t hide anymore, and trusts his mom and mike. even when he wants something bad (ie. to lie), the plot denies him that possibility.

in s3, he is in the background, but his emotions are used to further the plot, not his own character. he feels like his friends left him behind, like his childhood is over but he can’t move on. it serves to show how childish mike and lucas are in comparison to el and max, and how they’ve all grown up. and then he feels the mind flayer and explains what probably happened, so his feelings get dropped as he moves the plot and characters from a to b. he is a wizard like gandalf, merlin or dumbledore, not harry potter. he helps the heroes understand the situation and promptly disappears.

in s4, will gets back to his s2 arc. he has a secret (seeing the visions/being possessed and being gay/in love with mike) and tries to hide it by lying. his emotions (his fear and his love) seem to be the focus of his character, but that’s a lie too, because his character is there to move the characters forward. he is el’s only friend, he gives mike advice, he pushes mike to confess and save el, he even tries to help jonathan when jonathan is trying to help him. but the difference is that this time, the plot allows him to lie. he lies to mike so he can say the truth about him, because his lie is integral to the plot, not him.

TRUTH VS LIE

the truth is just the opposite. you are better than they are. superior. it is why you frighten them.

season 4 was a season that focused on facing the past and the truth. every main character has faced it in one way or another. el learned about her past and left brenner, mike said i love you (even tho he’s still very much queercoded and hiding his feelings), steve/jonathan/nancy is a thing apparently, joyce saves hopper like she couldn’t save bob, max faces vecna, lucas faces jason, dustin and eddie become heroes.

and then there’s will.

he lies to mike for the first time. he stands behind and looks at the plot and only speaks up when mike or el need it. he goes back to hawkins and gets thrown into the action without him wanting to. el and will are dramatic folds of each other, and now henry parallels will too. even lucas and max parallel mike and will in s2.

we knew her past from other people. brenner and kali and her mother, and then in this season she gets to be the narrator of her own story, albeit against her will and relieving traumas. we learn what she did by her own memories, and that makes her the most human we’ve ever seen her in all seasons. she’s not a superhero, she’s el. she has a family and friends and a past. she leaves the lab behind and faces one.

we start vol. 1 knowing vecna/henry through others. his father in the asylum, el’s memories. and then vol. 2 starts with him telling his story, showing us his memories. he gets the chance to tell his truth and explain his motives.

max parallels will by being the target of vecna. she starts emotionally closed off, just like will in s2, and gets visions that feed on her fear, even as she tries to hide from them. she gets to share her feelings with lucas, and then vecna turns it against her, making max hide in her happy memory, just like the scene in the shed of s2. even if things ended up bad for her, she still got the chance to face her demons.

will doesn’t get that chance. everything we know about him comes from other people or subtle hints. we know he’s gay because the show has been telling us he’s different even from his friends since s1. we know he’s selfless and kind because the characters have been telling us he is since s1. (almost) everything we knew about him in s1 was through memories and other characters. except a few times in s2, his feelings are always hidden behind the feelings of others. he says they’re ruining the party, not him, and doesn’t admit what he thought until mike forces him to. he doesn’t tell mike he felt left out until he talks about el lying and mike confronts him about his behaviour. he says he’ll always be there for jonathan because jonathan talks about being there for him first. he says it’s scary to open up and that he needs mike, but only because he’s putting mike and el’s feelings as a front. he doesn’t even tell anybody he felt vecna until mike says he’s gone.

MEMORY VS FUTURE

he found his strength in a memory from his past. something that made him sad. but also, angry.

memories are a vital part of stranger things, starting from the basis that it happens during the 80s and uses a lot of references and nostalgia to fuel the plot.

i won’t elaborate about the use of memories this season because memories, in this case, are equal to lies. the nostalgia in the show is a lie. the 80s were hell for a lot of people, and as the characters grow up that hell becomes clearer. what starts as bullying because they’re nerds develops into racism against lucas, homophobia against will, ableism against el. what starts as the government wants to take our friend develops into the cold war has tangible consequences (cough cough anti-socialist propaganda cough cough), we have to bury a body and hopper has to endure the gulag.

the central scene of will’s character, the one that explains him in s4, is the one where he destroys castle byers, renouncing his childhood. castle byers represents his childhood, and when he sits inside and looks at the pictures, he only sees the good.

castle byers was his hiding place from his father and the demogorgon when he was in the upside down. the photo of the party as ghostbusters was taken before they were relentlessly bullied and he had an episode and had to be pulled out of it by mike. the drawings of dnd campaigns now meant nothing as his friends abandoned him for girls. the bat he breaks the castle with is the one his father used to force him to play with when he was a kid.

he prefers the certainty of the memories, rose-tinted and nostalgia-fueled, over the uncertainty of a future he knows will bring nothing but pain. getting left behind by his friends, by his siblings, having to hide his sexuality, having to settle for a job. even in s4 there’s a throwaway line where he suggests going to vegas to be rich and never having to stop playing dnd and nintendo.

he’s been forced to grow up. he wants to go back to memories that weren’t real.

HIDING VS STANDING UP

i could not pretend. and i realized i didn't have to. i could make my own rules.

there’s an elephant in the room i didn’t address before, but now i have to, because everything has been leading up to this:

how did will survive the upside down?

he was a child. he was taken and yet he somehow hid for a week. we don’t know (as far as i know the comic isn’t canon now) how he did it, or why he was taken, but there is a reason. and it will be the main thing to discover.

to will, this means doing exactly the opposite of what el, henry, max and even himself have done.

el and henry found strength in their memories. el gets her strength from the love of her family and friends, the confidence in herself she’s managed to build. henry gets his strength from the anger and pain of his childhood, the resentment festering in him for years. max hid from vecna in her happy memories, in the love and happiness of her friends and boyfriend. will found strength in the memory of bob telling him to stand up.

but they all lost.

el and max lost against henry. henry lost against el. will lost against the mind flayer, and then the mind flayer took his memory so he couldn’t hide from him. their memories, at the end of the day, are just memories.

will byers will win because he will stand up, because his arc means that his strength comes from the future.

he is stuck in childhood. he hides in the memory of the music and the games and the party and his family. but in season 5 he has to stand up for the hope of what’s to come. he has a future, and he can be happy, and that’s what his arc has to be about.

if season 5 goes back to the beginning that means that will starts and ends the show. his disappearance starts season 1. his possession starts s2. the part of the mind flayer that was in him starts s3. s4 starts with el joining will’s family. the arc of s5 starts when will turns to see the upside down merging with hawkins.

his search for himself has to end with him facing his past and his truth not to stand up, but to look at his future and say that the truth about himself is that he deserves to be happy.

will byers has to be the hero, because his arc is the one that ends in the future.

[douxie-casperan]

Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

~

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart 

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

[aftertheskyy]

Merlin Musical Episode

Just imagine.

Merlin was really annoyed with Arthur and decided to make him sing for the rest of the day but he accidentally makes all of Camelot sing

The whole plot follows a day in the life of Camelot as Merlin tries to undo the spell/curse/whatever

I’m imagining that Uther and the knights exist at the same time here

Uther is away on king business or something

Songs include:

“The Same Coin” - Kilgharrah’s song when Merlin is ranting about Arthur again

“Idiot Manservant” - Sung by Arthur while he’s looking for Merlin. Features Gaius with one line: “The tavvvvvverrrn.” The song does, however, have a nice bridge where Arthur reflects on his friendship with Merlin and how much he appreciates him- until he sees that his armor isn’t polished and goes back to rage-singing (but it’s not really rage cause when is Arthur ever truly mad at Merlin?)

“Clotpole King” - The kingdom of Camelot sings this out of the pure love they have for Arthur

“My Secret“ - Sung by Merlin. It’s a dramatic solo sung by himself in a moment of severe emotion. Probably in the forest or something or it plays in the background while he walks around Camelot living his daily life

“By Your Side” - The song of the knights. They sing this during training and it’s basically like “Even thought you’ve led us to hell and back, we’re always by your side.” They give explanations of what Arthur has gotten them into (“we defeated an immortal army and fought a screaming ghost....” or something idk).  But the song is Extremely Chaotic, complete with a kick line at the end

“Caught in the Middle” - Leon’s song about *poetry.* It’s super short (kind of like “I’ll Just Wait Here Then” in Supernatural)

There’s dancing

Drama

Revenge

Love

A riveting adventure filled with comedy

Everything you could possibly ask for in a musical

The episode ends with Merlin successfully undoing the spell and Camelot returning to normal

Uther comes back to Camelot with a performer he brought home from the other kingdom and at Uther’s return dinner, the person’s like “Does anyone want to hear a song?”

And the camera pans to Merlin, staring at the audience with a look of pure annoyance

[siriuslyshewrote]

Beautiful Boy - James Potter

A/N: aptly titled because yes, we all believe that James Potter is the most beautiful boy.

Requested? : yes 

Word Count : 1.3k

Summary : James Potter fluff. What else could we possibly want?

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was something that could never be described as dull. Every moment spent in it was a blur of heightened emotions, whether they be good and bad, and there was never a day that went by without chaos. In comparison, your summers were positively dull.

As much as you loved the castle, you loved the people even more, your housemates and classmates, in particularly the close circle of friends you had woven together over your seven years in Hogwarts. Lily , Mary and Marlene took precedent as your closest girl friends, the ones with which every night in the dormitories was a sleepover, toasting your feet agains the little log burner, listening to the latest muggle records, and laughing your heads off. Sirius and Remus and Peter were brilliant boys, and you loved them deeply, too. James always said you loved too deeply.

It was he that you loved the most, that messy haired bespectacled boy with the crooked , previously broken nose and lopsided grin. With his warm hands and suffocating hugs and intoxicating presence. James knew you more than anyone, and had been a constant in your life since the two of you were tiny children, growing up living on the same street. He above anyone knew each one of your deepest and darkest secrets, your most mortifying memories, and embarrassing crushes. All but one, of course.

The crackling embers of the fire, and the quiet, exhausted chatter of the group around you soothed you, as you finally gave up on your Transfiguration essay, and dropped both it and your quill onto one of the many rugs that littered the floor of the common room. Music, from someone or others record player, played Bowie in the background.

"Tired?"

James grinned from beside you, his head lolling on the back of the sofa. He, too, had given up on his essay, by this time. You had no idea how he wasn't asleep already - he got up at the crack of dawn every single morning to play Quidditch, and still had the exuberant energy of a golden retriever.

You nodded , barely suppressing a yawn as you stretched out on the sofa the both of you were sharing, laying your head into his lap, wearily watching the animated conversation between Marlene and Sirius about something or other. Knowing Sirius and Marlene, she was trying to point out the flaws in another one of his crazily thought out schemes. Remus, too, was watching the pair with a secret smile upon his face - his eyes straying more to Sirius than anyone else, over the top of his book.

Mary was already asleep, curled up in a velvet armchair like a cat, her limbs tucked underneath her as she snored gently.

Your eyelashes drooped, brushing against your cheek, as your eyes closed against your protest. N.E.W.T's, you had very quickly discovered during your first few week back at school for seventh year, were living up to their name this year. They truly were exhausting.

Fingers combed through your hair, with a gentle clumsiness that you would recognise even if your head was currently not in his lap.

"What're you doing?" You mumbled sleepily, too tired to open your eyes, poking at his knee with your finger.

"Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair." He whispered, continuing with his mission.

You hoped that he was too concerned with your hair to see the smile that tugged on your lips at his words. James often devised these projects, randomly wanting to learn to do things until he achieved his goal. You had become his subject over the past few weeks as he attempted to learn how to braid, and had, several times walked back into the dormitory to the girls cackles at your newest hairstyle. James had the energy and will to do anything he wanted ... though perhaps styling hair was not his vocation. Really, Lily had told you, you only needed to look at his own hair to see that.

You didn't mind his newest project, and as you let him braid your hair by the fireplace, you desperately tried to pretend that it wasn't because him being so close made your heart beat a fierce drum against your ribs.

After a few minutes of quiet between the two of you, there was a lull in the conversation that you noticed even with your eyes closed in half sleep.

"Merlin, Prongs, could you be any more obvious?" Sirius' voice came from near the fire, a grin in his tone.

James fingers continued their work in your hair as he talked back to his friend.

"What?"

"That you are completely enamoured with our deer Y/N?" Even without looking at him, you could tell that Sirius was very pleased with his very much overused pun.

James tensed. Your breathing quickened slightly, though you didn't open your eyes.

Secretly, you wanted to hear what he would say.

"Piss off, Pads." He mumbled.

"It is quite obvious." Lily added in.

"Just a bit." Remus bit back the grin in his voice at his friends obvious discomfort.

"For fucks sake, guys!" James hissed quietly, clearly under the impression that you were asleep. "We are not dating."

"If you grew some balls, you would be." Sirius spoke, with murmurs of agreement from the others, apart from Mary, who you could still hear snoring.

James was quiet, for a moment.

"You'll have to tell her at some point, before someone else does." Lily spoke wisely. "Her and Amos are getting rather close, don't you think?"

James let out a scoff that was both a little defensive and a little bit worried.

"Y/N would never date that Hufflepuff."

"So you do admit that you like her?" Lily said triumphantly.

"Love her, more like." Sirius chipped in.

James' fingers were weaving once again in your hair, though perhaps a little bit less gentle than before.

"Just leave it." His tone indicated that he no longer wanted to discuss it, and the rest of the Gryffindor's clearly picked upon the tense tone he had adopted, because the conversation shifted quickly after that.

Though you desperately wanted to mull over what had just been said, you felt the pull of sleep drag you into unconsciousness. ————— "Love."

A gentle voice awoke you, with a slight shake of your shoulders. Blearily, you blinked, opening your eyes to the Common Room, which was much lighter than it had been when you closed your eyes. The fire had died in the fireplace, leaving only a few embers behind.

"Mmm?" You replied, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. You realised that you were still lying in James' lap, and a small flush crept up your cheeks.

"I've got to go to Quidditch practice. We’ve got the match this morning.” He said quietly, giving you a sorry look.

"Have you slept down here all night?" You questioned, sitting up and stretching, feeling your bones pop and crack after your slightly uncomfortable sleeping position.

He shrugged, standing up with a stretch, his jumper pulling up and exposing a sliver of his tanned stomach. He ruffled his hair, trying to rid his bed head.

"You were asleep. I couldn't wake you, you'd probably kill me." A ghost of a grin flickered onto his face.

"Sorry." You yawned, holding out a hand for him to pull your off the sofa. He obliged.

"I've really gotta go." He said regretfully, brushing his lips against your forehead in a typical James gesture.

"Love you, Prongsie." You spoke sleepily, making to go up the stairs of your dorm to get a few hours more sleep.

"Yeah... Love you too." His speech sounded almost painful to him, but you were too tired to register it.

In fact, you were too tired to even remember the conversation you had heard the previous night until you reached the top of the stairs, and by that time, James was gone.

[weelittleweasley]

A Cup of Tea | Draco x Reader

Prompt as requested by anon: hii ! I’m in love with ur writing! anyways could you do one where reader meets Draco’s mom & Narcissa absolutely loves her ? And like her embarrassing draco & stuff like that ? Just thought it would be cute 🥺

Warnings: lots of fluff

A/N: I’m so glad to see that people are enjoying my writing again! Feels good to be writing again! I forgot how much I love to write for y’all! Enjoy the imagine and have a happy Monday!!

Flashbacks are told in italics!

Lacing your boots up, you sit on the edge your bed as your hair falls in front of your face. You tuck your hair behind your ears, rising from the bed and looking at yourself in the mirror in front of you. Sucking in a deep breath through your nose and out of your mouth, you inspect yourself. The black wrap dress clung to your figure nicely and your hair framed your face nicely. Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, you grab your bag and jacket, trying not to thinking about the tight feeling in your chest as you prepped to meet your boyfriend’s mother for the first time. 

A week prior, you and Draco sat in his dormitory as you worked quietly at his desk on your homework. Draco laid on his bed, tossing a ball up and down, remaining silent with little sighs here and there. The silence was comfortable as Draco patiently waited for you to finish your work before you could give your full attention. Maybe patiently waiting was a little too generous...

“Darling, you must be nearly done. You’ve been at that desk for hours,” Draco groans, sitting up, watching you scribble into your notebook alongside a slew of textbooks.

Without shifting your gaze, you reply, “I’m almost done. Please give me five more minutes, love.”

He groans and falls melodramatically back on his bed, continuing to throw the ball up and down. You take a few more moment writing some last notes from this night’s reading into your book before shutting the books closed and turning around in your chair. You look at the boy who lays on his bed, huffing about how stupid it was that he has been waiting for hours when in reality it was an hour and a half at most he was waiting for you to finish. “Are you done with your antics, Malfoy?” you ask him, a teasing smile dancing on your glossy lips. 

Draco sits straight up and a cheeky smile finds its way to his mouth. “At last,” he breathes out as you walk over to him and he wastes absolutely no time throwing his ball to the other side of his room, pulling you into his lap, your usual seat. You allow a few small giggles to slip out of your mouth as he pulls you in, burying your face into the crook of his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. He smelled like cologne and apples. A pleasant combination to your senses. Draco places a small kiss to your temple before laying down on the bed, causing you to straddle him on his bed. “Best seat in the house,” he jokes, looking up at you. You looked like a vision; a toothy grin on your face, wispy hair falling front of your eyes as you brush it out of your view, your Hogwarts uniform hugging you in every place perfectly. He never knew how sexy that god awful uniform could look on someone. 

You two remain in this position for a little while, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your hip bones, as you brush the white blonde hair on his head with your fingers. Cupping his cheek with one of your hands, you stroke it with your thumb before he turns his head and places a gentle kiss to your palm. Draco was putty under your touch. The boy would do anything you asked him to. He lived to make you happy, to make you feel special, to make you feel loved. If you asked him for the world, he would give it to you with the moon and the stars. You wished that other people could see this soft side of Draco, but at the same time, you loved that it was a little secret between the two of you. Only you got to see how gentle and kind he was; how thoughtful he could be. “Dray?” you ask as he hums in response, lacing your fingers with his, him gently kissing your knuckles individually. “What do you think our future holds?” 

“Well, we’ll be married, of course,” Draco does not hesitate to answer this question, which brought you comfort. Draco talked nearly all the time about how much he wanted to make you his wife. If you weren’t still in school, he’d be down on one knee right now, proposing that you spend the rest of your lives with each other. “We can move into the manor with my parents,” he starts, watching him play with your hands, looking at the lines on your palms. This part of his proposition made you a little uneasy. Rather than living with Draco’s parents, you’d rather find a place of your own, away from all the madness of the Malfoy’s. You loved Draco, no question, but you didn’t know if you would love living with his parents. Speaking of which, of who you have not met yet. Well, technically you have met his father, but you would rather not chose to remember that awkward encounter. You smiling wide at him as Lucius looked at you with disgust, saying that his son was not dating any girl after you introduced yourself as Draco’s girlfriend. With that, he kept walking down the halls of Hogwarts, leaving you feeling quite embarrassed. “Something wrong?” Draco asks, propping himself up on his elbows, sitting halfway up. He noticed the tension in your shoulders when he brought up living with his parents.

Shaking your head back and forth, you reply, “No, I’m alright. Keep talking.” You press a small kiss to his lips trying to encourage him to keep talking about your future together. As you pull away, Draco has a look on his face that screams I’m not buying it. “Really, darling, I’m alright. Continue,” you push his shoulders, jokingly making him smirk. Draco thinks for a moment before his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Oh no,” your smile drops. “I know that face and I don’t like where this is going already.”

Draco laughs and sits up straight so your chests are now touching. “I want you to meet my mother,” he confesses and your heart stops beating for a moment. Your mouth goes dry and you try to keep yourself composed as to not alarm Draco. “I know the two of you will get on like a house on fire. You’ll come to the manor with me next week on holiday, won’t you?” he asks, his eyes pleading you to say yes. His blue eyes bore into you. Merlin, how were you supposed to say no. Feigning excitement, you nod your head up and down with a small hum. He chuckles, “Brilliant. I’ll send an owl and tell mother she should expect a very special guest.” Draco closes the gap between you two, pressing a hard kiss to your lips, showing you how thankful he was that the two most important women in his life would be meeting. You on the other hand, were absolutely horrified. 

Now, here you were, bag and jacket in hand, making your way to Draco’s dormitory, your heart pounding out of your chest. It’s not that you didn’t want to meet Draco’s mother, you were just scared that you wouldn’t live up to her expectations. The Malfoy’s were one of, if not, the most powerful family of wizards. They had money, status, wealth, and power; something some people can only dream of, but something you were scared of. You and Draco came from two completely different backgrounds. You were not a pureblood Slytherin and you knew that this may pose a problem, considering how passionate Narcissa Malfoy was about having a pureblood line.Your parents were both wizards, your father was a Ravenclaw, mother a Slytherin. Of course, when you got to Hogwarts, you took after your mother, the sorting hat calling out Slytherin before the hat even touched your head, making you smile wide. Your parents weren’t very wealthy, money wasn’t something you had excess of. They had made you get a summer job alongside muggles, they insisted that teaching you the value of money at a young age would instill good habits in you. But now that you were taken by a Malfoy, money was never really a problem. If you even mentioned in passing that you wanted or needed something, it would be on your bed the next day with a love note from Draco. But still, you weren’t raised like that and the idea of spending money frivolously made your nerves act up. 

Your thoughts are halted when you arrive at Draco’s door, tapping gently on his door. In two seconds, the door swings open to reveal a smiling Draco. He looks handsome, black turtleneck and blazer, freshly pressed trousers, and shiny black leather shoes. Draco looks you up and down and his smile grows wider if possible. “Perfect,” he coos before grabbing your waist and kissing you sweetly. He always knew what to say. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, nervously straightening out the pleats in your dress. 

Draco closes his door behind him and takes your hand in his, making your way to the outside of the castle. “Oh, don’t worry. Mother will adore you. I just know it,” he squeezes your hand. “And if she doesn’t, too bad because I love you.” You give him a weak smile and kiss his cheek. At least you knew that Draco would be at your defense if all else fails. 

The trip to the Wiltshire was smooth, but you were anything but. Thoughts circled your head constantly. What if she knows I’m not a pure blood Slytherin? What if she thinks I’m dressed inappropriately? What if she heard from Lucius that he thinks I’m a stupid git? What if she takes one look at me tells me to leave? But these thoughts didn’t help the time move slower. 

And there you were, standing in front of Malfoy Manor, Draco’s fingers laced with yours, you holding his arm for extra support. You bit your lip nervously, scanning Draco’s face, looking for any hesitation. If he told you that he changed his mind, you would not hesitate leaving the manor right now. But it’s far too late when Draco has knocked on the large door in front of him. “You’ll be brilliant,” Draco tells you, kissing your nose.

Before you can open up your mouth to respond, the large door swings open to reveal Narcissa Malfoy. You expected someone else to open the door, but no, there she was in her full glory. Narcissa was more beautiful than you could ever expect. Brown hair pulled in an updo, while the platinum blonde that matched Draco’s fell on her shoulders perfectly. She wore a dark green snakeskin jacket that fell to the floor with a luxurious silk black dress and black leather boots. “There’s my boy,” she smiles, opening her arms to which Draco entered, hugging his mother tightly. Your nervousness subsided slightly as you watched the boy you loved give his mother a warm embrace. “I’ve missed you dearly,” she whispers in her son’s ear, giving him a kiss on the top of his head. 

They break their embrace before Draco steps to the side and says, “Mother, this is (Y/N). She’s my girlfriend. (Y/N), this is my mother.” After he says that, his eyes dart back and forth between his mother and you. He’s so nervous of who will speak first, how she will react to you, how you will react to her. He just wants the two women he loves to get along. 

Gulping hard, you decide to speak first. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco has told me so much about you,” you offer her the warmest smile you could ever produce and extend a hand out to shake hers. 

Narcissa laughs and pushes your hand away. Your heart stops. She hates me already. It hasn’t even been five minutes and she wants me dead. “Don’t be silly, (Y/N). Call me Narcissa,” she speaks and immediately wraps you in a hug, squeezing you so tight. Your eyes widen as you look at Draco whilst hugging his mother. You have never seen Draco smile this big before in his life. His happiness makes you happy as you hug his mother back tightly. She pulls away, holding you back at arm’s length to take a good look at you. “Draco, you did not do Miss (Y/N) justice in describing her. She is even more beautiful than I could ever imagine,” she looks at her son with a smile. Draco smiles wide as you thank her for the compliment. “You two must be cold and hungry from the trip here. Please, come in, I have a kettle on the stove and biscuits.”

Draco leads you into the manor, you look around, taking its in stunning architecture and decor. The manor was decorated with ornate pieces in emerald green, blacks, and greys. The staple color palette of Slytherins. “Your home is beautiful, Narcissa,” you compliment.

“Thank you, darling,” she coos as she walks you and Draco into the main dining room, a long black marble table stretched from one end of the room to the other. Three place settings are at one end, green and silver tea cups and saucers sit beautifully on the table with plates of biscuits, sweets, and other foods. “This house has been in the Malfoy family for generations. It all started with Armand Malfoy who-”

“Mother, please,” Draco whines, knowing that this story would last for ages if his girlfriend let his mother tell the entirety of the story. 

Narcissa rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, Draco doesn’t like my storytelling. He thinks I make the story longer than I need it to be,” Narcissa looks at her son, eyebrows raised giving him a knowing look as Draco mockingly laughs at her. “I think I tell stories just fine.”

You decide to add a little wood on the fire and tease Draco right back. “He does the same with me. I cannot possibly tell him a story of my day when he gets bored the moment I open my mouth. Not to mention, he is the one who asked for the story in the first place!” you tease, causing Draco to look at you, feigning offense. 

His mother laughs brightly, throwing her head back. “Yes! Exactly! Oh, Draco, I’m so glad you brought home a lady who has a sense of humor. Come, (Y/N), follow me in the kitchen. I’ll tell you the story of the Manor whilst Draco waits out here for the tea to finish steeping,” Narcissa links your arms together and every single bit of nervousness and fear melts away in that moment. “Draco, dear, get napkins for us,” she instructs before whisking you away into the kitchen, asking what tea preference you have. 

Hours have past, and here you were sitting at the Malfoy’s dining room table, tears in your eyes from laughing alongside Narcissa. She has now pulled out Draco’s baby book, pointing out pictures of the young child in the bathtub, soap sudds all over his head, naked little body in the shallow water. “He was two and a half here. He had just come back from a walk in the garden and he was covered in mud. The poor child had fallen into a puddle and was crying that he got dirty and demanded a bath,” Narcissa recalls the happy memory as Draco groans and leans back in his chair as you gaze upon the sweet photo. 

“Aw, come on, Draco, you look adorable,” you coo as your fingers delicately touch the image pasted onto the parchment of the baby book. Draco shoots you a menacing glare as you giggle, flipping to the next page. 

The day was going so smoothly. Narcissa asked you about school, your passions, how you and Draco fell in love...she wanted to know everything about you. She was so kind, it reminded you of how kind Draco could be. He had obviously inherited that from his mother and not his father. You were shocked. How could someone so lovely be married to someone so cruel? 

Wiping the tear from the corner of her eye, Narcissa closes the baby book. “Alright, I think Draco has had enough teasing for today,” she says as Draco huffs a finally. “Darling, could you go bring the teacups into the kitchen please?” she asks Draco as he happily obliges. “So, tell me, (Y/N),” she starts when Draco leaves the dining room. “And tell me honestly, where do you see this relationship with Draco going? Is there a future?” she asks, her hands finding yours, giving them a light squeeze, hoping that the answer is yes.

Now this was something you could talk about. “Narcissa, I love your son more than the sun loves the moon. He’s my everything,” you confess to her, making a grin appear on her face. “He makes me the happiest I have ever been,” you tell her simply.

“We do intend on getting married, Mother,” Draco interrupts the conversation as you and Narcissa shoot him a look, letting him know that he ruined the sweet moment between the two women. “Was I not supposed to say that?”

You laugh and shake your head, “You’re fine, darling. But yes, we do plan on getting married immediately after we done with school.” 

This makes Narcissa just beam with joy. “Thank Merlin,” she places a hand over her heart. “I was hoping you would say that. I didn’t want someone like Pansy Parkinson marrying my son,” she tells you, causing you to look at Draco as you two both laugh. “Well, just so you know (Y/N), you know that you are welcome to move in here with myself, Draco, and my husband after you finish your education. This home is also your home. Not to mention, I would love another lady in the house,” she tells you with a wink.

Her offer makes your heart glow. When Draco proposed this a week ago, your nerves set in and made you worry. But now thinking about living in the manor with Draco and his wonderful mother only made your heart swell with love and adoration. “Thank you, Narcissa, from the bottom of my heart. It means the world to me that you would open your home to someone like me,” you tell her.

Narcissa furrows her brows and realizes what you were talking about. “Just because you aren’t pureblood Slytherin doesn’t make you any less of a wonderful woman and witch. My son loves you which only makes me love you even more,” she tells you before stroking your cheek with her finger. Her gesture makes you tear up a little bit. This woman radiated kindness and you didn’t understand how you were so lucky to love a boy who had the most incredible woman as a mother. 

Draco looks upon the two of you and his heart could not be more full. His mother loved you as if you were her own and he could only imagine how happy that made you. Draco watched the two women he loved have their own moment, a smile plastered on his face. “I hate to do this, but we should really be heading back to school. I have a quidditch match tomorrow and need to rest up for it,” Draco speaks. 

“Oh, of course, darling,” Narcissa speaks as the three of you rise from the table. “You know you are always welcome to come home whenever you please. No need to let me know when you are coming. The doors are always open,” Narcissa tells you both. She walks you both to the door and you have to admit, you were a little sad to leave. There was still so much to talk about. Narcissa looks at you and smiles sweetly. “It was so lovely to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

You take Narcissa’s hands and give them a squeeze. “Same to you. You are so lovely, today was wonderful,” you admit as she scoops you into an embrace. “I’m sure we will see each other again soon.”

Narcissa gives you a sweet smile and tells you to send an owl if you were in need of anything. She then looks to her son and cups his cheeks, looking him in the eyes with so much love. She places a tender kiss on his forehead before giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, Mother,” Draco holds his mother in his arms for a long while and you swear you can hear a small sob escape from Narcissa’s lips. She loved this boy so much, it seems like she would break. “I’ll be home for Christmas. Maybe (Y/N) can spend some time with us,” he offers as you shake your head excitedly. You can only imagine how beautifully the Manor would be decorated for the holidays. 

The two of you leave the Manor, hand in hand as Narcissa waves goodbye and blows a kiss before shutting the door. You look at Draco and he just laughs. “What?” you ask, slapping his arm. “What’s so funny, you bloody idiot?”

“I think my Mother loves you more than she loves me,” he laughs as you roll your eyes. 

“I’m starting to like your mother more than I like you,” you joke as he acts hurt. “Kidding,” you laugh as you kiss him sweetly. “Maybe.”

[alaterproblem]

Im on my Merlin shit again and since I know no one follows this account, I’m just going to spew my thoughts about this show in an unhinged fashion.

A few opening thoughts:

1. 90% of the show’s conflict would’ve been solved if Merlin told Morgana about his magic. He could’ve been like Gaius to her and maybe she wouldn’t have gone dark side. (But also good for her)

2. The vfx of this show are pure camp and I cannot believe 15 year old me thought they were a marvel.

3. I had Morgana in the red dress as my phone background and it still took me until my 20s to realize I was a lesbian. How embarrassing.

4. Nimueh is criminally under used. They should’ve kept her alive in season 2 instead of bringing in Morgause. Imagine the chaos Morgana and Nimueh would’ve unleashed together. Magical.

5. Gaius stops serving a purpose after season 1. Yeah, I get that he’s supposed to be Merlin’s father figure, but it would’ve been much more interesting to have to see Merlin struggle without Gaius. His wig is also atrocious and a crime against humanity.

6. Merlin is the character that best represents a High intelligence and charisma based character but wisdom is his dump stat. Like this guy is basically a prodigy, can learn all these spells and is the most powerful sorcerer alive, but boy is he also dumb. Camelot doesn’t allow magic under penalty of death and what does he do? Not only use magic (which like, valid) but does it in the most obvious ways and gets shocked when people discover his secret.

This boy has never had a thought in his brain and good for him.

Will keep updating my thoughts as I have them.

The Knights of Camelot have the hugest turnover rates. Damn they die by the dozen each episode. How is this Kingdom still standing?

Also they did Bradley James so dirty with that ugly ass armour.

The amount of times I’ve screamed “OH MY GOD JUST LET UTHER DIE FOR FUCK SAKES”

[rikalovesrice]

Douxie x Non!Magic Reader #1

- The first time he saw you, you’d wandered into Arcane Books. You’re skimming through a book when Douxie greets you kindly, asking if he can help you with anything.

- Of course, your heart skips a beat because wow he’s beautiful.

- You’re all awkward and blushing, kind of stumbling over your words. Douxie smiles and laughs gently, reassuring you. You two have a nice chat about the book’s contents.

- It’s a slow burn on Douxie’s end. While he’s charming and sweet-talks the ladies, being in a romantic relationship’s never been a concern of his. But nevertheless, he does find you endearing from the get-go.

- The next time you see him is when you’re eating dinner at the cafe. Douxie recognizes you and waves. Noticing your drink is almost empty, Douxie gives you a refill and you exchange pleasantries. He tells you why he works two jobs. You make sure to give him a nice tip.

- That’s how it is for a while, glimpsing and talking with Douxie at his two jobs. Sure you have a small crush on him, but you also just love him as a person. Douxie’s so kind and humble and a rebel in the best way.

- Douxie finds he quite enjoys your company, too. Soon the two of you consider each other good friends.

- Douxie invites you to an Ash Dispersal Pattern concert. Standing amidst jumping and thrashing rockers and metal heads, it’s all background noise because you can’t tear your eyes away from Douxie. How he plays his guitar like it’s the air he breathes. How he sings like he’ll never sing again. You didn’t know he had tattoos on his biceps and shoulders cause you’ve never seen him without his sweatshirt.

- Douxie sees you in the crowd and smiles at you. And at that moment, you know this way more than a crush.

- You’re speechless after the concert. Douxie jogs over, all sweaty and unkempt from rocking out, and thanks you for coming. All you can do is stare at him like an idiot.

- You sputter out how amazing he his band was. Douxie chuckles.

- Ok so you know that’s there’s something...mysterious about Douxie. You really start suspecting something when you’re out on a late night stroll and see Douxie locking up Benoit’s. You’re about to call out to him, but you notice him glancing around as if seeing making sure no can see him. He then runs down an alleyway, what looks to be a black cat following him.

- You decide to observe him the next couple of nights. Sure enough, Douxie always looks around before disappearing into the night. You’ve taken note of the bags under Douxie’s eyes (that you’ve honestly grown fond of). What’s he up to?

- One night, you decide to follow him. And you’re almost immediately knocked onto your back by something. Some sort of monster. You cower before the creature and shut your eyes, terrified and waiting, before a familiar voice yells your name.

- There’s a bright flash of sky blue and the monster is slammed up against a dumpster. Douxie emerges from the darkness, holding out his left hand. Gone is his watch, replaced with some kind of...gauntlet? Arm bracelet? It’s secured around his entire forearm and blue symbols are emanating off its surface,

- You watch Douxie do the monster in in utter disbelief. The monster is swallowed up by a blue portal. Douxie’s at your side, gently grabbing your arm and making sure you’re alright.

- So....Douxie’s a wizard. A 900 year old wizard. Wizards, and apparently monsters and demons and specters, are a thing. Also cats can talk and dragons exist.

- Now that you know, you inevitably get caught up in the secret shenanigans of Arcadia. Magic and trolls and what not.

- Throughout it all, you and Douxie grow closer. Douxie knows how vulnerable you are as a normal human. Though you’ve proven yourself more than capable in many ways, but Doux can’t help but worry about you. You’ve become someone important to him and he just wants to protect you.

- Que Douxie wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side as he magic blasts a monster that was about to eat you into next week. Your head nearly explodes cause holy fuzzbuckets you’ve never been this close him, close enough to feel the warmth on your cheek of his skin exposed by his lowcut shirt, close enough to smell him (spices...cloves?). You’ve never been so close to his face when looks down at you to make sure you’re okay. His golden eyes are so pretty and so full of concern and his blue tipped hair is framing his handsome face. You realize he’s still holding you and you frantically wiggle away with a quick thanks, leaving Douxie confused.

- One day when you’re hanging out, Douxie takes off his sweatshirt. You’re sitting next to him as he scrolls through his playlist, going on about Papa Skull, before you absentmindedly begin to trace his tattoos with your finger. Douxie startles, feeling an odd tingling where your fingers had gently touched him, and you almost erupt from how embarrassed you are because what are you even doing.

- Doux...doesn’t mind it all, actually. A thought he doesn’t understand.

- Douxie hates seeing you in pain, whether you’ve been injured by a monster or you’re upset and crying. He’s super gentle and sweet as he heals your wounds. He loves using magic to cheer you up or comforting you with a song.

- Archie and Zoe start picking up on something, making knowing comments here and there. Douxie doesn’t think anything of it cause he’s an oblivious doorknob

- A man of affectionate touches, Douxie will gently hold your arms or cradle your face in his hands when you’re worried or distressed.

- When you find yourself lost in time and in medieval Camelot, Douxie finds himself staring when he sees you in a medieval dress (much like Claire’s). He’s not sure why. He thinks you look pretty and feels his face go warm.

- Moppet!Douxie thinks you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. 

- When some knights during Battle Royal flirt with you, Douxie doesn’t like that at all. He’s not sure why it bothers him so much but it does and the next thing he knows he’s stepping in. He loosely throws an arm around your shoulders and passively shoos them away.

- Moppet!Douxie tries flirting with you (with hilariously less tact than his future self) which means, yes, Douxie’s getting jealous of himself. You think Moppet!Douxie is the cutest thing and you can’t help babying him a little, which doesn’t help.

- You can’t help but wonder if the Douxie you know feels the same way. 

- Doux becomes especially more aggressive with his magic when something threatens you. Like his eyes start glowing a little it’s that serious.

- Lots of hugs. You hug him after Morgana dies. You hate seeing him so distraught, being so hard on himself. You hug him when Merlin dies. You hug him after Merlin’s staff is destroyed. And Douxie finds that he loves holding you. Douxie buries his face into the crook of your neck, holding you close and trembling and sniffling. You rub his back and run your hand through his hair.

- When you pull apart, Douxie gazes at you, his face streaked with tears. You both become too flustered to keep looking at each other, but Douxie holds your hand for a while after each embrace. He notes how small your hands are compared to his.

- Douxie realizes his feelings when he thinks about losing you to the Arcane Order. He wasn’t prepared for how much the thought would hurt, how unbearable that would be.

- Upon this epiphany, Douxie’s moppetness shows the next time he sees you because wow you’re so beautiful and amazing and how did he not see it earlier?

- Douxie pulls you into an embrace before you board the ship with Krel and the others to go back down to Arcadia. You wonder why this hug feels so...desperate. He pulls away and you don’t know why he looks so pained.

- Douxie takes in how beautiful you are. He kisses your forehead before forcing himself to let go and finish his business with the Order.

- Your heart clenches in your chest because could it be that Douxie feels the same way and now he’s going back to face Bellroc and Skrael alone?

- Believing it’s the end, Douxie bids farewell in his heart to his friends. You’re the last person he thinks of, and his last thought is how much he loves you.

- Everything inside you shatters as you watch Douxie, completely limp, plummet towards the ground. Your eyes burn with tears as you lean over Douxie’s lifeless body. When Claire, Steve, and Archie catch up, you’re sobbing into Douxie’s chest. You press your lips against his cheek, believing this is goodbye...

- ....And when he wakes up, you tackle him back to the ground in a hug, wailing with relief into his shoulder. Douxie groans in pain but firmly wraps his arms around you, overcome with the reality that he can still be with you.

- Your heart sinks when he goes to leave with Archie and Nari. You’re still holding hands when Douxie boards the ship. 

- “I’ll be seeing you Champions of Arcadia soon enough. And...,” Douxie gazes at you lovingly before kissing your knuckles, “....you, my darling. Wait for me.”

- Your fingers pull apart as the ship ascends. Your heart swells and you smile. 

- “Always.”