#and stars above. they don't all need middle names and trauma.

[crymeariveronceagain]

hey i don't know what writer needs to hear this today but you can have characters in your work who exist only to move the plot forward. you can create an oc for a fanfic who exists to ask a question at the right time and is never seen again. you can create a novel and have random characters that exist to move the story. characters are elements of narrative. not every single one has to have a whole backstory and a life fleshed out. sometimes they can just be there for a scene and then never be involved again. isn't that how life works? don't we meet people and then they vanish? aren't our lives simply moments spent to drive forward the plots of others? your character can be pointless. you character can exist in a moment. your character can take up space. your character can exist, even if you don't know their birthday and their mother's favorite song.

characters are not people. you do not have to make them into people unless you want to. you owe them nothing. use characters however you want in your story. develop them as is relevant. otherwise, it literally does not matter.

[yunalinwrites]

saved by the bell (chapter 2) | fushiguro toji x reader

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available on wattpad

summary: fushiguro toji never makes first moves--until he happens to meet the teacher of the son he hasn't seen in years.

strangers -> fwb -> lovers

takes place in 2006 around the star plasma vessel/hidden inventory/premature death arc; megumi is a first grader

about reader: female, around 30 or older, teacher, has a soft spot for megumi, speaks kind of formally, has daddy issues + abandonment issues

warnings: eventual smut, cursing, alcohol, smoking, daddy issues, abandonment issues, mention of child abuse/trauma, toji is initially kind of an ass, spoilers for the season 2 arc mentioned above

"Don't get how a puny thing like him can burn through a gallon in a week," he'd complained, watching the infant chug his bottle eagerly in his lap. "Damn FamilyMart workers are starting to know my name."

His friend turned back to face him, looking inside from the balcony as he took a drag from his cigarette and adjusted his tie.

"If you want him to look anything like you by the time you sell him off, you better get used to it," his friend advised. "Probably the cheapest source of protein out there."

Finally, the little boy lifted his mouth from the bottle, but only to let out sharp wails. At this, the man's friend put down his cigarette and came back inside.

"Not like they'll give me any extra money for it," the man grumbled, handing his son awkwardly to his friend. "He'll be strong enough. And fuck if I help the Zenin clan more than I need to."

Patting the baby's back gently, his friend made a suggestion: "You could always keep him. Learn how to raise him yourself. Spite 'em that way."

The man didn't appear to be listening, already having shifted his attention to the glitchy TV he'd gotten off the street and sinking into his cracked leather couch. Sighing, his friend laid down the now quiet baby beside him and headed towards the balcony to continue where he left off, his suggestion met only with the sound of footsteps as he was followed out.

"They'll make sure he's strong," the man guaranteed, taking a cigarette from his friend's pack. Once he'd successfully flicked the lighter at the end, he continued: "Probably gonna breastfeed him till age fuckin' eight."

And though he was met with no contest from his friend, he went on, with a breath of nicotine concluding, "'Just not something I'm made to provide."

***

Tossing the cap behind himself, he took a long swig straight from the jug.

He slammed the refrigerator door shut and leaned back against the counter, but--thanks to the lack of distance between everything in his cramped unit--this move forced him to meet the reflection of himself in the glass of the balcony door.

His friend seemed to have been right all those years ago. The incorporation of milk into his diet gave the man a body that he was, for the most part, proud of--mountainous biceps, chiseled abs, bulging pecs; the works. The only thing that irked him about his appearance, though, was his face--that scar, that fucking scar.

He vaguely remembered hearing somewhere else that protein was good for building tissue, which was a claim sufficiently evidenced by his body--from the neck down, that is. So it was both confusing and disappointing when he'd wake up in the middle of the night to take a piss and that nasty mark of his past would be the first thing he saw in his dirty mirror. Still, not really knowing what else to do about it, he took another sip and tried focusing his attention through the glass door rather than on it. In doing this, his eyes found refuge on the polka-dot umbrella he'd left out to dry.

It had been a little over a week since that night at the bar. It was still quite rainy here and there, so he found himself still using the item almost every night. It's not nearly as romantic as it sounds, though--at least not for you. He had mostly been using it to escort other women home.

To be fair, he had some self awareness. He felt worse every time he saw your name and number whenever he opened it for someone other than himself. But what was he supposed to do, return it? You hadn't been back at that bar since. Not that he was really checking he just figured if he was going to go out to do his nightly ritual, he might as well do it at that same joint. You know, in case you wanted your umbrella back.

And before you ask, no, he couldn't call you. He almost never, ever called first; it went against his morals, if you can even refer to them as that.

Again, he had some self-awareness. He knew he was kind of a piece of shit, so much so that even through the gray clouds and even among the 8-billion-some-odd people on His earth, he supposed God recognized him as such. So, just like how God decided whether or not the boats he bet on would get him out of this apartment, he assumed God also decided which women ended up in his web, and which would come back for a second night. By this logic, so long as he didn't make too many overt first moves, all broken hearts could simply be attributed to and excused by fate. It was a sort of heavenly restriction, if you will; he would sacrifice his initiative for the ability to keep being an absolute fucking asshole.

His sacrifices also included curiosity, he tried reminding himself; if he was meant to know something, then he would just know it already--so there was no point in wondering about you or, by association, his... that little boy.

Yes, there was no point in wondering how he managed to look that much like him, or where he got the balls to just follow curses around whenever he pleased, or why his name was Fushiguro, and not Zenin

Or, for that matter... fuck, what was his first name?

He headed towards the couch and took a seat, jug still in hand.

Shit. I don't even remember what it started with...

Forcing out a low laugh at this realization, he fished for the TV remote in between the cracked cushions.

Whatever.

He flicked through the channels with occasional sips from his drink, letting clips of people talking, singing, and laughing play no longer than a second before he cut them off with the press of a button. He kept spamming it, tapping and tapping, faster and faster, sounds merging together until:

Wasn't it an M...?

Placing the milk jug down on the dusty coffee table, he stared at the characters on the remote's number pad, his attention focused on a singular key in particular.

Fuck.

Putting the remote down beside him, he rubbed his eyes in distress, trying to massage the thought out of his head.

Goddammit...

He cursed His name, but as he used his arms to push himself up off his imprinted spot on the couch, hoped that God would forgive him just this once.

Hastily, he headed towards the balcony door and shoved the stubborn thing open. Snatching the umbrella with one hand, he punched in your number with the other, a firmness in his thumb. As soon as the phone rang with his outgoing call, though, whatever resolution that was just occupying his body had completely vanished. By the second ring, he was tapping impatiently on the rusty railing. By the third, he was trying to steady himself against it, which only resulted in a concerning creak. By the fourth, he'd headed back inside out of fear that he'd drop his outdated device, something that he couldn't afford. The fifth ring had his thumb just millimeters shy of the red button on his keypad, getting dangerously close due to his trembling, but then:

"Hello, this is Miss L/N speaking."

He exhaled after what felt like an eternity of holding his breath. As his lungs regained their rhythm, he felt his shoulders melt back down into relaxation, and soon, a smirk found itself creeping onto his lips. "Jesus--you really do talk like a princess."

"Um... I'm sorry, could I ask who this is?"

Still smirking, he took another deep breath and spoke up: "Think you left your glass slipper with me at the bar the other night," he started, absentmindedly studying the item. "But you made my job a lot easier by putting your number on it, Miss L/N Y/N."

There was a short pause, but then she realized: "O-oh! It's you--Oh my God, um... Hello..."

He chuckled lightly at her stuttered response. "It's me."

"So," he began again, "What are you doing tonight?"

For a while, nothing came through the speaker. He bit his cheek.

When she finally did speak, her tone was lowered: "I can't stay out late. It's a school night."

He placed the umbrella on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch, putting his free arm over the back.

"Won't take that long to return an umbrella," he pointed out. "Didn't realize you had something else in mind."

"N-no, that's fine, you can just--"

"I'm just pulling your leg," he interrupted. "How about now--what're you up to right now?"

That came out a little more eager than he meant for it to be. In an attempt to fill the awkward silence, he grabbed the milk jug from the coffee table and resumed his drink, gulping as he held the microphone away from his mouth.

"I'm out running errands."

"Where?"

Slamming his drink down--again, a little too eagerly--he reached for the remote and switched off the TV.

"Um..."

The hesitation was discouraging at first, but as her microphone betrayed her, it would seem that the aforementioned God was on his side today. In the background, he heard the familiar chime that indicated someone had come through the automatic door.

"Which FamilyMart is that?"

This time, there was surprisingly little hesitation: "...the one by the station."

And with that, he finished off the last few ounces left in the container and tossed the empty jug on the table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Don't move," he instructed, grabbing the umbrella with one hand and pulling the phone from his ear with the other. Bringing his thumb back to that red button, this time with returned unwavering confidence, he finished, "See you there, princess."

***

The door chimed welcomingly as it automatically slid open, causing you to whip your head around in anticipation. To both your disappointment and relief, it was just a gaggle of teens looking for some after school snacks.

As you turned your head back to your shopping, your eyes caught on to something right next to the entrance: a bin of umbrellas, for only a couple hundred yen each. You sighed as you took your eyes off the salt in your wound. Your mother had taught you well enough to know how bad this was: a stranger knowing your name, number, and current location. So, really, the too-late sight of an alternative was just unnecessary on God's part.

But then again, as much as you didn't love the pattern she'd chosen, it would've been cruel to replace a gift from your mother. She also always said herself to pick public spaces for first dates and, given that the local high school usually wrapped up clubs around this time, more than enough people were coming in by the second. Just now, for example, a young couple walked in holding hands in their uniforms.

And this wasn't even anywhere near a first date anyway; he was just coming to give you your umbrella, that's all. But, also... Even if he were to stick around for, say, a cordial conversation about the weather, and, hypothetically, he did so long enough that it would only be polite to ask for his name... Well, you always did preach both manners and curiosity to your students.

Deciding that you'd overthought enough, you tried to direct that curiosity to the crackers, chips, and cookies in front of you. You scanned over the rainbow of packaging, searching for something that looked both appealing and healthy. Nothing in particular jumped out at you until you looked to the top shelf, focused on a specific bag. At first, you couldn't tell why you recognized it, especially considering you couldn't see all of it due to its height, but then you realized: Megumi's brought that one to lunch before...

The shelf was well over your head, but it seemed like the only employee around--the cashier--had gone to the bathroom, so you reached your arm up as best as you could. The bag brushed your fingers, which only pushed it farther back, so you had to employ the help of your tippy toes. You could feel it just within reach of your fingertips, as the crease in your flats dug into your feet.

C'mon, just a little closer...

"Need a hand?"

Suddenly, a muscular arm emerged from behind you, reaching over you and grabbing the bag with ease.

Planting your heels back down on the floor, you spun around and smoothed out your pencil skirt, only to look up and find him--him and his scarred face--startlingly close to you.

"Thanks..." you obliged, trying to look away as you gently took the bag of sweet potato chips from his hand.

Even after you had placed the product in your basket, he didn't back up, so it was almost hard to see his entire body. But, you were still able to recognize he was wearing the same thing as when you saw him for the very first time: a black short-sleeve shirt and gray sweatpants.

As you had learned to make note of in your students, wearing repeated outfits that didn't fit the season or didn't fit the wearer was typically an indicator of a low-income background. In this case, it wasn't so much that the clothes were ill-fitting... it was just that the waistband of his pants were hanging loosely, dangerously low on hips, and his shirt was.... Tight. Very tight. And thin, which was interesting considering the chilly breeze that came through the door with every customer. Along with that, you were feeling the air from the heavy exhales of his nose.

"My eyes are up here, Miss."

You didn't realize how long you'd been watching his chest rise and fall rather quickly.

"Sorry," you corrected shyly. "You didn't rush to come here, did you?"

He shrugged. "Said you couldn't stay out late. Wouldn't wanna keep you from your royal duties."

"Oh, I see... Well, I didn't mean to hurry you. You could've at least put on a coat."

He looked down to where his compression shirt hugged the grooves of his abs. "Didn't realize there was a dress code, Miss," he teased. "Am I being indecent?'

"I-It's not that," you stuttered. "It's still cold out, you know."

"Cold? It's spring."

"Yes, but you could still get sick. Especially if it rains. You know the saying, 'In like a lion, out like a lamb'?"

"With all due respect, Miss, I'm not fucking stupid."

As soon as the profanity left his mouth, he winced at his own words. He was hoping to keep up his gentleman facade a little longer, but he supposed couldn't hide his true nature forever. Taking off the wrist strap of your umbrella, he began preparing to never see you again.

But then you spoke, surprisingly calmly: "I never said you were. But you never know. People aren't born knowing everything, are they?"

He froze in his place, thinking about your words--about how they didn't hold even a hint of anger or hurt in them. He couldn't tell if that made him feel more or less guilty.

Hearing his silence and seeing the solemn expression on his face, you felt the need to apologize for your preaching: "Sorry... I guess I'm still in teacher-mode. I swear, it's what being in this uniform does to me."

Suddenly, he smiled, and his eyes were almost soft as they looked down at you and your dainty button-up. "It's alright," he rasped. His pupils definitely darkened, though, as they drifted lower, down to your form-fitting pencil skirt and your pantyhose-clad thighs. "Yeah, no, it's... it's fine."

Feeling you remove the umbrella from his hands, he snapped out of his gaze on your body as you spoke again: "Thank you for coming all this way to return it. I wasn't really expecting you to."

Cockily, he put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, well, I just happened to run out of milk, so you can thank God for that. I mean, I'm a busy man, you know? Part of why I rushed here."

You laughed. "Physical therapy, was it?"

He paused for a second, almost as if he forgot what he did for work, but resumed the banter soon enough. "Right, yeah. Got appointments left and right. Seriously, I mean, you should consider yourself lucky."

"Well, I appreciate you squeezing me in."

"I'll let it slide just this once, princess, but you'll have to pay a fee next time."

Your stomach fluttered at the prospect of seeing him again, but you still tried to hold your guard up around the near-stranger. "Next time...?" you questioned.

"Yeah. Next time you need physical therapy."

You laughed nervously. "I don't think I... understand..."

"C'mon, Miss. You're smarter than that."

You blushed, putting together that he probably wasn't talking about yoga balls.

"I'm flattered, but... we've only just met, haven't we?" you argued, though unsure if it was to him or yourself.

He shrugged again. "Don't usually meet my clients before I meet with 'em."

You were given an opportunity to turn away when you heard the door chime again. A young man and woman had come in to shamelessly ask for where the condoms were, though they weren't holding hands. And despite it being only around 5 p.m., they were obviously somewhat inebriated, which brought up a good point--you two had met before, and you'd done so at a bar, where it was common for such shallow appointments to be made. In context, it was a little less weird when you thought of it as him picking up where he left off, underneath that bar awning.

Still, you looked down instead of back at him, imagining how he probably did this often. "I don't see why you can't just find another one, then."

He sighed through his nose and shoved his hands in his pockets. For a second, you thought you'd said something wrong--he looked uneasy, dreadful almost. But just as quick, he combed his hair back and painted a charming smile across his face.

"Yeah, I guess so," he pretended to consider. "But I noticed something about you." He crossed his arms, showing off his veiny forearms.

"When you were walkin' away from me that night, you had this... sway in your hips." He looked you up and down, squinting his hooded gray eyes.

"Could sense an underlying condition, beneath that little dress of yours." His tongue peeked out of his pale lips, teasing the scar at the corner.

"Just sayin', in my professional opinion, something oughta be done about that."

You let out a shaky breath, staring up at him, eyes wide and cheeks pink. He certainly did have some expert words to say. Meanwhile, your teeth had a deathly grip on your bottom lip, so you couldn't come up with even a single consonant to respond with. Figuring that you weren't going to respond any time soon, he began to back off.

"I should probably get going," he told you, "but don't be a stranger, yeah? Ain't got a business card or anything but my number should be in your Recents."

Even as he walked away, you couldn't say anything, and the only movement made by you came from your lip managing to escape your painful bite. All you could find in yourself to do was watch, mouth agape, as he made his way to the fridges at the end of the aisle, not even realizing you didn't yet have a name for his contact.

As he grabbed the cold handle of the refrigerator door, he could see his now frowning reflection in the glass.

He was probably going to beat himself up later over all the creepy and corny things he'd let himself utter to you, but right now, he didn't think about that; he was just glad the conversation was over. Making a number of first moves and doing so in a FamilyMart snack aisle before it was even dark out--he couldn't even focus on why he'd come here in the first place. Whatever he was trying to do-which he himself wasn't even exactly sure of-it was stupid. He felt like a fish out of water, and all he wanted to do was jump out of his skin and drown himself in the current, never daring to swim against divine intervention again.

But as if he didn't regret coming here enough, he recognized another familiar face as he moved toward the registers.

"Ah, Fushiguro!" the elderly woman would always greet. "Just milk again, Fushiguro? That's good. Lots of protein. Helps build tissue. Huh? What's that, Fushiguro? You want a pack of Marlboros? Oh, you're just like my son, Fushiguro..."

He tsked. He always hated how that old hag managed to fit his name in at the end of every other sentence, loud enough for her half-deaf ears--along with the entire store--to hear. And of course, just his luck, she lived another day to work this specific shift.

He put the milk jug back as quickly as he could and searched for the most inconspicuous route to the exit. Of course, that just happened to be through the aisle you were still in. With little time to think, he swallowed his pride. Making his way over and brushing past you, he mumbled something about having forgotten his wallet as he briskly made his way to the door.

"Wait!" you called. Head darting between the milk fridge and the back of his figure, you moved quickly after him.

Frantically tossing bills at the cashier on your way out, you bolted out of the store, this time darting your head left and right as you searched desperately among the sea of other dark-haired pedestrians. You were considering giving up as you began to get dizzy, but then you saw him--the only tall, muscular figure outfitted in a T-shirt in this weather. You continued to run after him and, thankfully--since you opted for flats over heels today--you were able to catch up with him before the pedestrian light turned red again. He was already halfway through the crossing, but he stopped in the middle of the road, eyes widened in shock as you were bent over, leaning on your knee as you panted and held the jug of milk up towards him.

Realizing that you'd bought it for him, he took it from your hand and awkwardly obliged: "...Thanks."

You were able to stand up straight now, but your breathing was still somewhat labored as you spoke: "At least... let me know... your name..."

He hesitated for a moment, as if he didn't even know what his own name was.

"You know mine," you reminded him, impatiently putting a hand on your hip. "It's only fair."

His face was grave, but his eyes were narrow as they jumped everywhere around you: at the passing taxis and vans, at the salarymen flocking from their building, at the park fenced in. It seemed he found his name somewhere, but it wasn't as comically artificial as you might think: "It's Zenin. Zenin Toji."

"Zenin?" you confirmed.

"Yeah," he replied, swallowing away the dryness in his throat. "But what do you say we skip the formalities? Just call me Toji."

"Oh, um. Okay, then. Toji," you repeated, testing it out on your tongue.

A loud honk brought the two of you back to the reality of where you were, prompting you to finish crossing the street. Now back on the curb, you turned to him again.

"Um, Toji," you spoke, still getting used to the syllables.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"I, um... I want to make it clear I'm not looking to do anything tonight," you enforced, projecting as much as you could muster. "But I have one more thing to take care of, if you'd like to come along."

You had your eyes focused on the tips of your flats, so if he was in disapproval-which you assumed from his silence-he didn't need to do much with his expression to hide it. But eventually, you heard his voice, relenting with an exhale that could've been interpreted as both disappointed and relieved: "Sure."

And so, silently, he followed behind you as you traversed the city, inferring it was a path you traveled often as you didn't stop your pace once to look at a map or even the street signs.

It wasn't far from where you'd started; a few corners later, the two of you were in a residential area that he didn't recognize, although the shady alleys between dingy apartment buildings weren't much different from where he lived. He knew teaching didn't pay much, but he was still surprised that you brought him here.

"Just wait here a moment," you told him, and he did as you knocked on the nearby door with the small bag of groceries in your other hand. He waited patiently and, watching you do the same in front of the grimy door, he considered the possibility that you two weren't so different after all.

But then the door opened, and you said something, and you were only a couple feet away so he heard, but it was as if all of a sudden there were miles between you two.

"Hi!" you'd chirped. "Is Megumi home?"

Everything else faded into muffles. He watched, paralyzed, as you handed over your groceries to a young brown-haired girl who looked vaguely--uncomfortably--familiar, but he didn't process a single thing either of you said. All he could hear was that M-word ringing throughout his head.

Meanwhile, you continued to converse in front of the drab doorway, telling the girl that you had to get going because you had some business to attend to, unconsciously pointing your thumb in the direction of where you had left Toji. You bid farewell to her with a smile and turned to where you were just pointing but, immediately, your smile dropped, as did your eyes to the corner on the pavement where he'd just stood-as if you'd find him there, hidden among the weeds sprouting from the cracks in the sidewalk. But, no-it would seem that the man named Toji was already long gone.

***

previous | series masterlist | next - should b available by next week :')

[lonelynpc]

what’re some Anesthesiologist Quirks™️ that you wish showed up more in media?

i wish they included us more in media at all to be honest, the entire anaesthetics team seems to be replaced by a solo anaesthetist who doesn't do anything the whole time or just seems to be absent

as for quirks that we have, there are quite a few! the biggest is that we are generally extreme perfectionists but i'll let you be the judge!

here's some of the quirks i've noticed that i think would be cool to see in media more:

the placement of leads, cuffs, etc is really important to us and we have to think about how it impacts the entire procedure. i don't know why but a lot of people put V5 right in the middle of the xiphoid process or people will put every lead in a place where they will have to be relocated after the patient is positioned or the surgery starts. i have also seen people put BP cuffs on too loose, too tight, wrong size, wrong direction, wrong arm, wrong leg, etc.

i wrap the gas sample line around the breathing circuit to avoid tangling.

any syringe with a vasoactive drug in it has to be positioned upside down next to the rest, muscle relaxants are horizontal and above the other syringes.

my syringe labels go parallel to CCs so i can read the drug's name and the dose at the same time. this way i can also see how much i am giving someone as i do it as well. i will relabel my syringes if someone did it wrong. (a lot of people do it horizontally, it's a bit of a debate)

i double tape all ETTs. don't bring fixomull near my ETT, i only want durapore tape.

i use fixomull for IVs though and cut fun shapes out (hearts, stars, etc), if it's just a circle or square i'll probably redo it.

i hate when people remove the monitor leads and just dump the leads on the floor, especially when they get tangled up with the IV pole wheels.

always put your machine on standby between cases because leaving it just blasting oxygen with all the alarms going off is like leaving a hotel room completely trashed.

i like having prime numbers everywhere. RR of 11, 13, 17, 19, propofol gtt rate prime number, etc.*

i like having two labels on lines. for example, if a patient has an art line, i like having an art line sticker close to the bag and one at the port closest to the patient.

if there's a throat pack, i put the "THROAT PACK IN SITU" sticker on the patient's forehead and the breathing circuit. i used to work with someone who would put one on the patient's forehead and on every member of the anaesthetic team's scrub cap.

honestly, i just love stickers and labels. some people don't use them much but i use them a lot and use more than needed for Safety™.

i use more stickers on night shifts.

i put an extra bag of CSL under the bair hugger to keep it warm for when i need it.

i will tell everyone in the room to shut up during induction and emergence. nothing annoys me more than having a patient going under and having people slamming metal trays open, talking loudly or playing loud music. do it intraop or once the patient leaves. i might sound like the fun police but we need to be able to hear our patient because we need to know what's happening with them.

i'm very picky about the patient's position when going out to recovery.

i judge people who use the default vent settings (unless there was more going on with the patient like a major trauma).

we also have a lot of slang, text talk (kind of?), sayings, etc! that's a whole other thing though!

*a lot of us are weird about numbers. for some people like me, it's prime numbers. for some it's even numbers or multiples of five. for some it's just avoiding unlucky numbers.

[signofwolf]

Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas – book review

Series: Throne of Glass #7 Genre: YA, Fantasy Theme: Fae, magic users, war Warnings: mentions of torture, imprisonment Star rating: 0,5/10

Why did I pick this up?: I wanted to end this horrible series once and for all.

[Heavy spoilers ahead]

To make myself clear, before this book I quite liked this series. It wouldn’t place in my top 100 books, not even close, but it was a pleasant pageturner to listen to in audiobooks when working.

Language

Let’s start slow. I lack the words to express how much I hate the words ‘male’, ‘female’ and ‘mate’ after this series. Not even gonna try to express my trauma. But these 3 gems aside, Sarah J. Maas needs a dictionary. Or compress her work to a manageable size. Everything sang, Everyone melted, Every man roared, Every woman trembled, Everyone was unleashing themselves at least once a chapter (number of chapters: 122) ). And now I know definitely too much about Yrene’s ‘womb’. I know so much…

Dynamism

I thought that was a book about a war with heavy action content. Oh boy, I was wrong. This 984-pages monstrosity has maybe 5 pages of action. If you squint.

Every sequence, where by design action should take place was followed by one of two scripts:

Few sentences of action and then a few pages long internal monologue. Often repeated with the same character after the next few sentences of action, or with the next character and then the next (sometimes the first character made a second appearance and then everything would go all over again). And the word ‘character’ used in these sentences is not because I’m rambling. This book is written that way!

Few sentences of action and then action stops, and we are graced by a few pages long conversation. In the middle of a battle. Or spying. Or in Erawan’s chambers, when his castle is going down, and he is running up the stairs...

Time

Leaving alone the fact that apparently all series took less than a year (till this book I estimated the plot for about 3 years, Wiki told me it was 2, but Maas knows best), because that is a can of worms in itself. Time in this one? I honestly have no idea. There were many ‘few weeks of travel’ parts with two main groups of POVs. Personally my only time indicator was ‘Orynth won’t fall till Aelin gets here’. But nothing just fit. And I saw Lost Song when in the last episode we as the audience realized that our two POVs parallel storylines are in reality millennia apart. Lost Song made sense.

Emotional loading

… there wasn’t any. Really, it was like reading a milk label. Every time the scene was potentially emotionally impactful, Maas went ahead to overexplaining EVERY. GOD. DAMMED. THING. And it was abso-fucking-lutely everything. ‘Emotional dilemma? Let’s current POV explain it! 2 pages should be enough… Damn maybe it wasn’t enough. I know! I’ll switch POVs and explain it through the other character!’ <= My impression of Maas’ thought process. I’m fairly sure that the record was 7 POVs explaining the same thing in the row, but I was blacking out a little, so I cannot be sure.

And if that wasn’t enough, this book had a second way to defuse tension: random-plastic-repetitive-badly_written-smut. Really badly written and really repetitive. How could you not feel the spicy bits, when Manon (cruel, self assured 100+years old witch-queen) reacts the same in bed as Elide (20years old, virgin, ex-slave). And the rest of them were the same, there weren’t ANY distinctions.Just copy-paste.

The next point in current case: Someone died, it was impactful, I really liked the character, so I got sad. But then 2 of our characters came out of the room with a body, and after a paragraph of grieving they started making out, and then I was regaled with 2-pages-long description of melting cores. That was the place then this book stopped being badly written, and started being distasteful.

Characters

Remember when I was writing about switching POVs (which is 15(!!!) In the whole book. Oh and an omniscient narrator in places when our current POV was grieving too much to overthink something, but Maas still wanted to inform us about something)? They were all savagely murdered in the worst way: character mutilation. Somewhere between books our maybe-not-that-original but colorful and interesting characters became carbon copies of each other. I have no idea how many times I didn’t realise there was a POV switch. The only indicator was a change of pronoun, or when Maas was telling us the name of a current narrator. These were the only ways. And if you can't distinguish if you are in Dorian’s head or in Manon’s, that is the sign of a really BAD writing.

Romance

…there wasn't any. In all this book there wasn't any naturally progressing romantic scene. There were Maas’ endgame pairings which were sexing or pinning. As the author Maas loves to write about soulmates. And it’s not a bad thing itself. When I want some fluffy story I often tag ‘soulmates’ in AO3 and voila, +10 to good mood. But God above, it is not cute when every pair you write about are ‘true mates’ just BECAUSE. It is the only way Maas sees a relationship, as a fated pairing, written in the wake of the universe by the God himself. There is no choice, nor the work to put in it. They are the author's OTP and that means that they are perfect and they should have children right now. Point in case:

Guy was treating a girl like a shit on his sole, including throwing her naked out of tent, on a snow, with their friends present, all the while abusing her verbally in a worst way. But it’s okay, because when she almost died he realised his mistakes and apologised. Two scenes later, he was forgiven, because... fated mates?

The pathos

I know that many people don't like this type of scenes, but it's not my case. I’m reading by picturing images and not repeating words. I like sequences that I can imagine to be grand and glorious, even if they are a little corny. That said, the pathos scenes were the most disappointing ones for me. Maas likes to write parts that are more picturesquely exalted than logically possible [point in case: meeting of 5 armies/forces in the random patch of sand in Empire of Storms, and it being painted as ‘an Aelin’s great plan’. I laughed myself silly at that. But not taking logic and all the plot holes into consideration that was a nicely looking scene. In Kingdom of Ash that wasn’t the case. I would say that the author wanted to paint us a renaissance painting every 20 pages or so. In my opinion, every time she failed miserably. Each and every of those scenes was or to farfetched to be even remotely realistic, and evidently written only for a sake of the picture, or just plainly stupid.

Example, and it’s so priceless a scene, that I just need to share it: Battle of Orynth, 25th day or so (time in this book doesn’t exist), the 13. sacrificed themselves (like thousands before them but hush). And then, time stops: grieving Manon is going through the city, they open the gates for her (yes, the siege is still on), she goes to the place where they died, after her come out all of our main heroes, and half the city itself with ‘flowers, rocks and precious possessions’ and they lay it there in a tribute to these brave (evil till 2 months ago) witches. I honestly can’t remember when was the last time I saw such an abstract scene. It’s a material for an essay in itself. No, I could not take it seriously.

Additionally, it's hard to make an impact as every damn sentence is grand and lofty. In the end it became truly pathetic, Aelin vs Maeve was unreadable.

Character deaths:

Let's make a quick count: main characters in a series at the start of KoA: 12 secondary characters in a series at the start of KoA: 20ish minor and total background: a lot more

Death count: main: 0 secondary: 3 minor: 2 (11 if we try very hard)

Resurrections: 1 (possibly 3, but not gonna analyze it)

Did you feel emotions of this impossible war against this all-encompassing, all-powerful, invincible, immortal, cunning Evil with armies from 3 continents and 2 worlds? No? Me neither.

Oh well, but there were a lot of deaths of ordinary soldiers. I’m quite certain that all of Terrasen’s army was at least twice brought back to life for them to die in these numbers.

Logic or lack thereof

Oh, and let’s not forget about the Deus ex machina army of unbeatable, magical elves on wolves, from legends, living for the past thousands of years in the unreachable lands of the north, because they managed to run from the surprise attack 10 years earlier. Did I mention that they came from portals, which the whole book was telling us were impossible to make in this scenario? After the previous saviour army was already fighting there for a day? And that Aelin didn’t know they would come for sure (how did she contact them again?)? Even though they were waiting in the full armours for these portals? Ah, and also: that army didn’t do anything. They just came and fought for maybe 4 minutes. And there were just so many things like that!

And if we’re on the topic of armies I present you: ‘My favourite absurd-list in the series: allied armies’.

(As a comparison, in A Song of Ice and Fire by J.R.R Martin, in 7 kingdoms of Westeros, at the peak of war there were 7 forces present, but not all were even engaged in a war.)

First the ones that made sense:

Armies of Terrasen’s Lords (counted as one, not gonna nitpick)

The Khaganate army (also counted as one)

Galan Ashryver’s armada

Whitethorn fraction

Rebel Ironteeth witches

…should Dorian be counted as an ‘army’?

And there were some that did not:

Ansel of Briarcliff’s army

The Silent Assassins

Mycenians

Wild Men of the Fangs

Army of magical elves on wolves

And the ‘I don’t even know’ category:

Crochan witches

Overpowering and overreaching

Section title tells it all. The stakes were too high. I was honestly waiting for Aelin to become Super Saiyan and start to throw planets at Maeve and Erawan. I won’t spoil if this happened.

In my opinion it could be a really great series, if our list of villains ended with Arobynn and King of Adarlan, and the list of Aelin titles with an assassin and a princess. We could have had two main fight plots: one emotional with Arobynn, when Aelin would have to face a damage he had done to her, and overcome it. And the second one, with freeing Terrasen from Adarlan’s rule. That’s it. There was an asshole, power hungry king, who feared magic and wanted to rule the East part of a continent. A lot of plot, but not so much that we stopped to care, or didn’t have time to cover everything. We could really get to know what Terrasen and his people were like and not JUST GET TOLD that it was ‘the greatest place in the world’ every damn 20 pages.

Plus…should Dorian be counted as an ‘army’? It's a REALLY valid question.

Climaxes

IIf I have to write a list of things that disappointed me in this book, this review would be thrice its current size, but one of the worst grievances I have is the complete lack of acknowledging the plotlines that had been started. This book series has overall 4 372 pages (not counting novellas) and 12 main characters (still not gonna address this). All of them had their storylines and arcs but if they weren't tied up in the previous instalments they wouldn’t be in this one. I get it, Maeve and Erawan got beaten (in an extremely unsatisfactory way) but they were only a background in this series' plots.

Aelin Well, Aelin was one of 3 people (+2 paragraf-long insertion from Nesryn and Chaol) who got their own POV’s after the battle (second was technically Rowan, who was ‘Aelin’s POV outside of Aelin’.The third Dorian, who got almost a full two pages). And from this we got that: she got crowned, Aedion got his bond and that Maas have no idea how the city looks after weeks of siege. In her case what angered me the most was ‘Terrasen is my home’ subplot. Only in this tome we read at least 3 times that Aelin will be okay with dying, if only she gets to see Terrasen one last time, or if she get to die on Terrassen soil. But you know what? Maas forgot to write the scene where Aelin actually ‘comes in’.

Mannon Didn't get her own POV after the battle, but here’s what we’ve got: She is going to the Wastes with Croachans and Ironteeth. Whait. What? Yes, that was the ending of this 500+ years of feud. They fought together and they decided to unite their two species, completely forgetting more than half a millenia of slaughter. I can only hope that there were at least some talks behind the scenes… NO! F*** NO! This isn’t how it works!

Rowan, Dorian, Chaol, Yrene, Lysandra, Aedion, Lorcan, Elide, Nesryn, Sartaq Lived happily ever after

Secondary minor and total background characters Survived (I acknowledge that they would be ignored in most books’ epilogues, but this abomination is almost 1000 pages of nothing!!).

Good Scenes

That saying, this book actually had 4 good scenes:

Crochan witches go to war - gathering-forces-to-fight trope, which is my *love-always trope* so I’m not even sure if it was relatively good, or if I’m just a slut for this trope. It was still only a paragraph long though.

[recurring] The children’s tale Aelin repeated to herself to remember who she is.

‘Lorcan Lochan’ - the only marginally funny scene in the whole book

I actually found Darrel making Evangeline his heir charming. Even if circumstances were far-fetched at least.

But the words crime of this book? It was agonisingly, mind-numbingly boring. If the overexplaining and repetitions were to be taken out I highly doubt that there would be 300 pages left.

For these 33 hours of audiobook I suffered through I give it half a star. Because Abraxos exist.

Please see my garishly accurate cover on my instagram! You can also like it there :D

instagram | goodreads

[heli0s-writes]

Drabble Prompt #161: “Tell me a lie.” - “I love you.” JUST BREAK MY FUCKING HEART, WHY DON'T YOU? (Oh man, Heli, PLEASE make it hurt. I need a big, big oof 😭)

THIS ONE WAS HARD. I TRIED. Angst! Lots!Request a prompt!

brooklyn born masterlist

What year is it? Where are you? What’s my name?

It’s dark the first time he asks you these questions. The two of you smothered by the filth of a collapsed building, blood dripping from a split on his forehead into your mouth.

2023. In … where the fuck are we, Buck?

He wipes the blood from your nose-bridge and it smears it further up into your hairline. You’re fine, you assure him, but a large welt is forming from where your skull cracked under the falling ceiling. And then suddenly, in the soot grey silence of dust, stars blossom over Bucky’s face and he spins into a million fractures.

The room returns in a rocking motion of planetary misalignment— a roar of primordial birth. Grey, still, but rushing in like a storm.

Your head turns to the side to find Bucky and Steve peering down at you. Their voices are fading away as you waggle a finger. You guys okay?

Bucky chokes on a desperate laugh and catches himself against the jet’s wall. Steve kneels and brushes a tear from your cheek. His fists are clenched tight and before you go you hear him spit a long and vengeful string of curses.

-

The trauma lingers and your brain is sending out Morse codes of electrical activity, disrupting its natural frequency. You seize intermittently— at least three times on the hospital bed.

The nurses are slower than he is, so when Bucky gets there first, he follows their protocol and checks you with that annoyingly mundane prodding.

What year is it? Where are we?

You gurgle and flip him off. 2023. Med bay, goddamn it— anymore dumb questions?

He laughs. Why are you such a pain?

You have a question for him in reply. Where’s Steve?

It’s immediate, the way Bucky frowns a miserable crescent moon that hangs low on his face. He’s back in the field, finding the fucker who blew the room out.

Your cracked lips seal themselves shut, the grimace speaking louder than words ever could.

You and he know better than most how Steve changed after the Accords, tuning himself out to every feeling except for the one that keeps him fighting. Bucky knows that when you gaze into some unknown distance, you’re thinking about how your Hercules has transformed into Ares. Gold tarnished into red, blooming blood.

The stars above the compound snuff themselves out by sunrise and Bucky jerks awake with Friday alerting him to your bedroom. It’s midnight again and his bare feet slap against the floor all the way in. Time is a circle now, being asleep and awake feel one and the same, saturated with worry.

His hands are shaking when you lurch back to life.

What’s m—

You shudder, sh-shut the fuck up with that.

A sharp breath escapes his trembling mouth. I was going to ask, what’s my favorite color.

The same noise falls out of yours. Trick question, dumbass. Black isn’t a color; it’s a shade.

He stays on the floor for the rest of the night, and after the sun climbs across and makes its way back to the other side of the sky, he comes back and does it again.

In the dark, your sighs become ocean waves. Your hands gripping the sheets of the empty bedside sound like footprints in the sand. Bucky listens, half-asleep, to your whimpering like a slow siren call pulling him into the deep.

The interrogations come more frequently, because the doctor told him you might be experiencing other side effects from the injury. Someone needs to be there, to watch you, just in case. So, he asks you throughout the day all sorts of idiotic things. Mostly because of fear, sometimes because he’s secretly eager to see you smile.

He hasn’t seen a lot of that after the Accords. After Ares, he supposes.

What’s my birthday?

March tenth.

His brows raise in surprise— I wasn’t expecting that.

Where’s Steve?

You catch him off guard. He’s supposed to do the asking. The tile floor of the kitchen holds your tears on a Wednesday morning while your fingers scratch at the smooth surface, securing yourself in the moment.

I don’t know… haven’t heard since last Tuesday.

Your nostrils flare and Bucky wipes the corner of your eye. He tries to lighten the mood, tugging out a memory of an older day when you were the life of the party. Tell me a joke.

You stare into the fluorescent light hanging over his dark head. The shadow obscures his cheeks as he looks on. Your mouth is detached even as the silly question slips out. What is Beethoven’s favorite fruit?

Then, the end of Friday pitches you over in the middle of a shower. The caddy of shampoo and conditioner flies off its perch and scatters with a bang the same time your knees hit porcelain. Water rushes into your mouth and nose but you can’t feel it.

Bucky rips down the door, yanks the entire curtain off furiously and you, slippery with suds, into his lap. His one hand clears away the broken soap dish, the other turning your head to the side.

Come on! Come on, come on. Come back. Come back.

Three minutes feels like an eternity.

Your gasps finally wane, and you look up at him from your place on his thigh, leaned back on his palms, breathing hard as if he’s the one who fell. He reaches over for a towel, drapes it on top of your body and pretends like he hadn’t seen anything.

Who won the game last night? Bucky grunts. You blink spots from your vision, hand reaching up to find his face, to make sure he’s there.

S-sportball? C’mon, Buck. Like I fucking kn—

A long-suffering sigh. His heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest, and here you are, being a complete pain in his lap. He tries a different approach.

Who makes the best lasagna? Never mind– I know it’s me. His brain is discharging rapid-fire questions, trying to forget the shape of your body beneath the cotton sheet. What’s your third favorite animal? Who sings that song you like? Tell me about your ma. Tell me a story. Tell me a lie.

You laugh then. The one he’s been waiting for. The first one all week— all month, since your head cracked open. Since Steve left you for vengeance. It’s a clipped sound, not really a laugh, but he takes it eagerly with a fluttering in his chest.

I love you.

Bucky’s thundering heart stills as your head moves from its sideways position on his leg. Instead of his thigh cradling your cheek, his lap cradles the back of your skull. Beneath him, you peer, lips parted at the beginning of a sentence. He beats you there.

What? Why would you—

A lie, right?

Bucky nods stiffly. Misses the way you stare at the point of his chin when he tilts back. You’re a pain, you know that? Guess that’s how I know your brain isn’t knocked loose yet.

Friday dings tepidly, alerting the both of you to an arrival and soon enough, heavy and determined steps are echoing down the hallway. Stiff footfalls, commanding gait.

Steve. Ares.

You should head back to your room. He always wants to see you first.

A little hum sizzles from your throat as you pick yourself up, letting Bucky steady you with his arm. Not always.

It gives Bucky pause as he gathers the jagged ceramic bits and soap bottles scattered on the floor. Your voice is small and reluctant when you call his name. Bucky?

Yeah…?

The look you give him from the doorway half splits your mouth open, showing your teeth. When was the last time you gave him a real smile? Bucky’s brow furrows at the restrained moment pulling itself apart, lasting an eternity.

Your turn, Buck. Tell me a good one. Tell me a lie.

Infinity lingers. Steve’s steps are frozen in time, endless like the three minutes you seized in his lap tonight as he searches your eyes for an answer to the unasked question. It hovers and breathes down his back. It’s a secret. A fib. An admission wrapped neatly inside the pretense of a shared game.

He smirks and hopes the splintering in his heart doesn’t show on his face.

I love you.

-

perm tags: @whothehellisbucky @serpentbaby @badassbaker @alagalaska @cake-writes @crist1216 @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @infinity-saga @jamesbarnesthighs @pinknerdpanda @xoxabs88xox @imsoft-barnes @momc95 @typicalangel @wretchedgoddess @readeity

[jamiebluewind]

Character/Location Descriptions for Fantasy High 2.10!

***

As always, let me know if I need to edit or add anything and tag/ask/PM me about art and stories so I can check them out!

Warning: emprisonment, multiple injuries, canon typical violence, multiple blood mentions, gross descriptions, poison mention, broken bone mention, vomit mention, torture mentions, trauma, abandonment,

***

Brennan

"Free dad slap."

"You 'Ally'ed out of the box of doom!"

***

New Character/s

Fire Elemental #3

Genderless

Was summoned and bound by the elves of old to protect the elemental pylon that powers the permanent magical effects of Ka'lethriel Tower, which transformed them into a monstrous fire thing along with 2 other fire elementals bound there

Was embrased by Fabian in a deep dip as he cradled their head and his sheet wrapped around them both and roiled above them

The power of Fabian's dance partially stunned them and took them out of active combat

The thing binding them to protect the pylon went when the fire pit helix was put out, causing them to change back to a creature with an elvan face of wreathing flame

They cry fire

They kissed Fabian softly on the lips (for 8 points of damage) and whispered in his ear (softly like flame) "Thank you. For my freedom. For my life." before disappearing

Established Characters

Arthur Aguefort

Slows localized time at Ka'lethriel Tower, opening a rift from his desk at the academy to talk to Adaine

Crawled through the rift after Adaine confirmed that her captors chose the way of pain

The way of pain involved Aguefort using new and experimental magic resulting him growing 450 feet tall (massive thudding steps), reaching up to grab the Sun (causing his veins to light up with golden fire and his mouth to fill with a fire that releases and races across the sky), calling thousands of terracotta Agueforts to burst out of the ground and sprint north, moving the Sun itself (leaving a burning scar across the sky), and shooting lasers the width of highways that have enough power to cap a mountain in one hit with lasers that shot out of his eye (which took on a golden bright glow)

He appeared to Kristen later (via a spell that appeared as a scroll glowing with illusionary magic with his name on it that allowed him video chat with her from back in Elmville) badly injured, wrapped up in bandages, bleeding a lot, and in pain.

The new magic tore up his guts so bad that by the time he got about 50 miles north of the tower, he "shit about an ocean of blood" and almost passed out (we can't get that big, 450 feet tall is too big)

Was also hit with a lot of powerful elven counter magic before he teleported back to Solace

His terracotta army fell apart when he left

Admitted that he had been going ham for a while since after Kristen snuck him into heaven, that being dead for a couple months really messed him up, and that attempting to destroy the government of Fallinel was "just too much"

Got in a lot of trouble with the government of Solace, will probably have to go to court, and he has to move the Sun back ("gotta figure out how to do that")

Dragged the Sun "a little bit north of where it should be" (causing the far south of the Earth to be colder and far north to be hotter), but said the Sun was "going in the right direction" and "still going around the Earth", resulting in clarifying that Spyre normally goes around the Sun, but he's not sure of what he did when he dragged it across the sky and that there was more of a poetic understanding of how things really work, but he still "really fucked up"

Kear/Keer

Was horrified by Augefort's actions

"I'm getting very confused and upset with everything that these children do."

Was poisoned and vomiting when Kristen banished her with a kiss on her face, came back when Kristen broke her ankle, and was banished again by Ayda who loudly pronounces "mwah!" while kissing her face like Kristen

Oak Warriors

8 foot tall

Look like green men (not automaton) made of magic with elven faces

Vulnerable to fire

Controled by Kear

Anguin

Was blinded by Kristen

Went invisible and ran

Was knocked unconscious by Fig and left in the vault (with some of his teeth knocked out) when Ka'lethriel Tower collapsed

Aelwyn

Kept awake for 5 months

Was rescued from the tower and fell unconscious/comatose immediately

Was carried out by Ayda

Even outside the orb, her body shook with the strain and effort

As she and Adaine tranced, a tiny piece of her abjurative magic (an innate cantrip, abjurer's ward) came back and she started building a shield around Adaine in her "sleep"

Was taken to a hot spring with elven healers by Adaine

Was unsure if they actually escaped or just died before trying to cast a feeble shield around Adaine again

Her mind was damaged and the torture had a profound and corrosive effect on her well being and memory

The inside of her mind looked like a city razed to the ground with crumbled walls, battlements, towers, and arcane defenses. Only a weird, vulnerable labyrinth of images remained

Has a deep self loathing (especially for not saying anything on Adaine's behalf against their parents) and a powerful fear of her parents. Her cowardice fed into her self loathing which fed into her cowardice in an endless loop.

Had an intense magical charm in the center of the labyrinth of her abjurations and a little faint enchantment with "Despite all of the torment and tribulation, let this be proof. I always knew there was only one person clever enough to find this." written on the outside. The charm was a custom modify memory spell (which The Court Of Stars had been searching for) and contained a saved unbroken version of her from before she was capture which overrode her current broken state once it was dispelled

Adaine

Found a sword in the vault while looking for a weapon to fight with

Later gave the sword Fan-dran-goorh to Fabian (was made by his grandpapa Tel'amine)

Held Aelwyn as they sleep

Detects magic on Aelwyn and find a faint whisper of enchant magic before using detect thoughts on her

Found and dispelled the magical charm within Aelwyn which returns her sister's mind to a version before she was captured by The Court of Stars

Gilear

Fluid in his feet, especially his right (due to rolling his ankle months ago) which now has a band of purple around it (possibly a bone issue) and causes him an ambiant throbbing pain and heat from all the extra blood (GO TO A DOCTOR!!!)

Tel'amine

Tried very hard to say "Gorgug" one last time, but just said "Chedge" and then cried and became really embarrassed when Gorgug responded "It sounds like literally no sound was correct in that."

Dances with Fabian at one point in the night to the sound of Fig's bass.

He and the other adults of Kylo Me'newra give teens grapes because they believe it will make them less horny (doesn't actually work)

Riz

Shot a fire elemental over Gorgug's thumbs up

"Stay positive."

Said "It's beautiful" about Fabian dancing with the fire elemental and shed a tear before saying "It's beautiful Gorgug" and lowering his gun, aiming at the last pitcher

Poked his head in when Adaine was about to go to sleep to ask if her sister was still trying to kill them (since she was just kind of there now), listens to her answer (doesn't think so, especially with her trauma), and then slowly (and awkwardly) backs out of the room as the sisters doze off together (after Ayda dropped her off)

Gorgug

Soot on his face and singed hair after being set on fire

Had his thumb knicked slightly when Riz shot over it

Fabian

Slashed the first fire elemental on his first two turns before hiding behind Gorgug

Had an elven sheet on hand which has the ability to put out fires, so he used to put out his friends

Danced and jumped with his sheet during the battle and did a bit of contact juggling with the fire

(On being kissed) "I take it. I take every point of that damage and I take it slowly. I can feel it. In my whole body."

Was left with red hot lips after kissing the fire elemental and (with a gulp) felt a glowing moat of fire travel down his throat and rest hot and warm in his chest

Had the sheet tied around him like a cape while traveling back to meet with the others

At Kylo Me'newra, danced (badly due to rolling a 1 and a 2) all night outside with his sheet (like nobody is watching) as the ground lit up behind him with a dull glow with each step. It helped him get in touch with his feelings and his body

Enjoys the taste of the flower his grandpapa gives him

Gorgug, Riz, and Fabian

Ran to and from their pylon with their arms back like anime characters

"I believe in you/us."

"Spring break!!!"

All three were burned from their fight

After getting back to Kylo Me'newra, Fabian danced all night while Riz and Gorgug watched (cradled in the boughs of treents that hummed a song as the trees rocked them)

Riz: You know? This place isn't so bad.

Gorgug: How did this part start happening?

Riz: I thought I was just gonna sit in a tree and it started singing to me.

Gorgug: Hey. Really not horrible.

Riz: Yeah.

Tel'amine: Yes. Really not horrible at all. *catches a blossom and shoves it into Gorgug's mouth* Eat it.

Gorgug: *chews*

Tel'amine: Yes.

Riz: Is it good or is it just a flower?

Gorgug: *shakes head*

Riz: It was beautiful.

Tel'amine: *glides off into the night*

Gorgug: *coughs and sticks his tongue out*

Riz: Did that dude just feed you a flower?

Gorgug: Yeah. *hacking sound*

Riz: That was insane.

Gorgug: It's a complex flavor, I don't like it.

Riz: That was insane.

Kristen

Unmade a oak warrior due to the annoyance of her spirit guardians

*appears behind Kear and puts her hand on her back* "You're on the wrong side, but you could join us if you want. Just something to think about." *casts banishment to give Kear time to think and kisses her on the side of the head before she goes*

Tried to ribbon dance fly down 10 stories in the middle of the tower and ended up just slamming into the floor at the bottom instead, breaking her ankle

Her spirit guardians attacked Anguin while he was invisible and trying to sneak into the vault, ending his invisibility

Used sending to get in contact with Jawbone (Jawbone. Hey. Having some trouble with Tracker. She's pretty upset at me. I keep saying the wrong thing. I kept something from her. Oops? -> Tough break kiddo. Happy to help if I can. Should I find a way to contact you other than this spell? -> Fuck yes. -> Hell yeah.)

Had a long distance talk with Jawbone (using Aguefort's video chat spell) where she got advice on not treating her partner as a means to an end and about transparency.

Fig

Gave Wicklaw's sword back to Leviathan

Disguised herself as a Arthur Aguefort (but with a bass guitar) and accidentally really upsets Ayda

Played a really sick guitar riff that would make all the gems dance (to persuade them somehow and find out more about gems) and ends up causing a large gem built into the base of the tower to crack and the tower to collapse (but not before grabbing a book on gems lore)

Tried to set Adaine's dad on fire with a pack of cloves as they left

Had a sleepover with Ayda (text link below)

Ayda

Brennan stated outside stream that an incarnation of Ayda has been living on Leviathan for a very long time, building the Compass Points. When she dies and is reborn, it is a true rebirth and her new incarnation has none of the memories of her previous forms, only knowing her previous selves from the written instructions they leave behind. Her current incarnation is the same age as Tracker (17).

Can fly with two other medium sized people (and later the two plus an underweight Aelwyn)

Immune to fire

Her dad is very triggering for her

Had a sleepover with Fig

(to Fig) "Have you said something so kind on purpose?"

When Fig attacked her as her dad (due to spell fail), she got very upset and said "Dad. Dad. I'm sorry. I'm done. I'm sorry. Dad. Dad." as Fig tried to calm her

When she counter spelled Angwin and Fig told her thank you, she answered "Whatever. I would help you, Fi-du-du-Dad. You're not my dad. You're Fig! Right? It's an illusion. Yes. You're Fig. I know. Why would I have carried my dad here? He never carried muh... me."

Told Fig that she might need to work through some of her stuff in battle as she "elected to have a disguise that was very upsetting."

After dispelling a spell on Fig that was gonna make her run away "Dad don't leave! I mean Fig! Fig don't leave."

Was very happy to see Adaine.

Said "My friend Kristen did this" before giving Kear a loudly pronounced "Mwah" kiss to the side of her head and banishing her again

Fig: How dare you do that the Arthur Augefort!

Ayda: PLEASE STOP THAT!

Fig: I know, but see, it's intimidating for them-

Ayda: It can't possibly be helping us more than it's hurting us!

***

Location Descriptions

Ka'lethriel Tower (new details)

The tower itself is 10 stories tall and sits near a wall (with a gate) that surrounds the tower and the garden

Each floor has one room (save the top which has at least two)

The first floor holds a vault (which is normally protected by permanent magical effects) with a big locked door

There's a large gem built into the side of the tower within the vault

The vault is filled with a lot of things, including Adaine and Aelwyn's property (spellbooks, arcane focuses, and The Jacket of Useful Things), Fan-dran-goorh (Fandrangor): Sword of The North Star (long, whip thin elven sword that shines a gleaming green golden light, can talk with the voices of elvan ancestors, and once belonged to elven kings long past), a massive religious tome, a quarenteened series of top secret elven scrolls that is the research of Adaine mom, a series of notes by mom looking for the location of a temple in Sylvar (Kristen knows due to a book at the Compass Points Library), and a book on gem lore

Fire Pit Pylon

Large elvan smithy (only in looks as it's an arcane power station and not an actual forge) and worst of the two pylons

Stone, mossy covered building with a floor covered in traps and an entire infrastructure filled with a high elven adoration for magic

In the center of the building, there is a hexagonal 6 pointed room with a fire pit in the center that's so hot that it's hard to look at. The fire is golden green helix at the start (changes to purple gold with the first pitcher of water spilled into it, ruby red with the second, and out with the third. It also flickers with other energy at ruby red from the other pylon being attacked).

Surrounding the fire pit in altering positions around the 6 sided room are 3 braziers and 3 statures (each statue directly across from a brazier)

The elven statues have ornimental stone weapons on them and are holding huge alabaster pitchers of clear water which bend towards the fire pit and require a cantrip (or enough damage to break them) to dump their water

The large firy silver elven braziers are piled high with burning coal (responsible for the smoke) and are traps that conjure a monsterous fire elemental when the water from its corresponding stature spills into the fire pit or when a floor trap is triggered

***

<- PREVIOUS

[savetheblackpaladin]

Can I get an emergency ask of the paladins saving S/O from an abusive relationship and them falling for each other? Don't worry about doing this if you don't have time, I'm just looking for some paladin love to get through a tough spot. Thank you

Shit hon, I hope you’re doing ok! I’ll be sending good vibes and mental hugs your way, since I can’t do petty revenge over the net. I hope your situation works out with as little trauma as possible

Shiro

now he’s not a man to go after somone else’s S/O, but he’s still drawn to your side

he’s very content to be besties, or at least very close friends

even if his heart is telling him he wants more

but when he finds out your current relationship is abusive? He’s fucking pissed and filled with a self-righteous fury and it’s only the thought of you getting caught in the middle that stops him from stomping over to beat the ever living shit outta them

so he makes it a point to hang out with you as much as he can, being your human shield

if he witnesses any sort of abuse he quickly shuts that shit down. nuh-uh, not in front of him. no fucking way

and if your current s/o starts trying to hide it, Shiro will call them out the moment he finds out

ends up finally confessing to you not longer after becoming your impromptu knight in shining armor

he’s sobbing but it’s mostly because he knows you absolutely deserve better. And he may be biased but he honestly thinks you deserve the world and even if it’s not with him, he just wants you to be happy

and he’s ecstatic when you tell him you like him back because now? Now he can do something rather than just be a buffer

offers for you to stay with him if you need to. as a safe place.

if you don’t want that then he’s still gonna be like a guard dog, staying around as long as he can. just in case.

absolutely is present when you tell your ex it’s over. he’s not gonna argue for you, but he’s gonna be your threatening support. 

you know you’re safe as long as Shiro is around

afterwords he just takes you back to his place and rolls you up in a comfy blanket, holding you and murmuring words of encouragement about how strong you are, and how much you deserve to be happy

he rubs your back and his hands through your hair until you can fall asleep

your peaceful face fills him with sorrow and happiness; he’s so mad and upset that you’ve had to survive an abusive relationship, but he’s here now to show you how a proper relationship works. you call the shots here.

your ex is a fight-on-sight for Shiro. but only if you’re not around. he doesn’t ever want you to see him be violent. in case he triggers some form of PTSD for you.

the most supportive and sweet man

your sweet vengeful angel, really

Hunk

he knows you’re in an abusive relationship and he hates it, he hates it so much 

wants to burst in and punch your s/o and then pick you up over the shoulder and walk out like a bamf. 

like he puts on shades and there’s an explosion behind him

and then there’s confetti and a parade with victorious music

he’s daydreamed about this a lot

he can’t do anything you don’t want him to, so he settles for being your best friend. the number one supportive mom friend who’s always available for you

he’s so easy to talk to. and he never makes you feel guilty about anything.

he’s clearly very angry when you talk about the abuse, but he always thinks about you, what you need from him.

doesn’t mince words though. turns out Hunk curses when he’s angry.

“Yeah, that’s gaslighting and it’s abusive as fuck.”

“They did what? Ok, not cool. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry they’re shitty and insecure and take everything out on you.”

“You want to know what I think? I think you need to fucking leave. That’s what I think. I’ve thought about it at length, Y/n.”

“You’re your own person, Y/n. They aren’t allowed to control everything you do.”

One day he realizes that he’s taking everything extremely personally because he loves you

“...I would never treat Y/n like that. They deserve homemade breakfast, flowers, teddy bears with chocolates, and gentle kisses. I would make them feel cherised, and loved and...Oh my quiznack...I love Y/n.”

he might be worried that his feelings might scare you off, but he’s always going on and on about honesty so he can’t be a hypocrite now

tells you his feelings after picking you up after a particularly hard fight. 

after you’ve calmed down and realize you’re in a safe place, of course

he didn’t mean to tell you, it just kind of burst out when he was hugging you that he loves you. no tact this man.

there’s a panic moment before you tell him you love him too and then he’s ecstatic because he’s gonna be your Disney Prince, of sorts...

like with the Balmera, Hunk has no time to waste. he needs you safe and sound, and he needs it now. everything gets put on hold.

he’s calling everyone else for support and before you know it you’ve got all of team Voltron supporting you as you prepare to break it off with your abusive s/o

you feel undefeatable with Hunk at your side (and it helps that everyone else is around too.) 

as you’re leaving Hunk decides to have a few words with your ex. In private. He doesn’t tell you what he said, but you never see them again and Hunk is pretty smug

isn’t above petty revenge. he in canon killed someone for tailgating, man

might have put sand in their gas tank. when you have an alibi of course. in case ‘McDouche’ tries to press charges. Hunk puts you first, even in his revenge

they got plants outside? well now they’re dead. salt bitch.

loudly talking shit about them when he sees them in public

probably routinely leaves flaming dog poop around

might have seriously contemplated giving them a serious punch to the face. but decided they weren’t worth potential jail time. or possibly making you feel uncomfortable.

Keith

ok, probably handles things the worst

no fucking joke the moment he finds out you’re in an abusive relationship he’s all action

straight up just bursts into your s/o’s home and proceeds to beat them up. now you know why Keith got expelled from the garrison.

unless they’re female, then he’ll at least restrain his fists and just yell at them. getting in her face and just going off

he tells them to never go near you again, they aren’t worthy. You deserve better than them and they should count their lucky stars that he cares about you enough to not put them in the hospital.

and of course you’re floored and kind of scared because Keith was terrifying

he realizes that he may have made things worse just a little too late

but he’s in for it now so he just, “Get your things y/n. You’re done with this asshat.”

he lets you collect things on your own. he’s content to watch over your ex. they don’t get to speak. they lost that right the moment they thought they could hurt you.

Keith apologizes to you vehemently the moment he’s got you in his car. 

“I’m so sorry Y/n. That was probably really wrong of me and I know that but I couldn’t just let you suffer for a moment longer with that-that thing. You’re too precious to me and I....I know this is inappropriate, b-but I think I love you? B-but I totally understand if you never want to see me again after this because I ju--”

You shut him up with a tight hug

he doesn’t even know that you daydreamed about him saving you for a while now. 

you didn’t let yourself entertain the idea that he felt the same way

Keith is a good nugget though

he doesn’t rush you. at all. he’s determined to let you have some time as a single person before rushing straight into another relationship

but his feelings for you never waiver and he’s content to let you call the shots. He’s just feels lucky to be able to be in your presence.

oh no, he’s got it bad

Lance

this boy, this boy falls fast and he falls hard but he respects that you’re in a relationship 

but he’s still flirty, not like over the line though. more like, he’s absolutely down if you ever become single

and he ends up becoming like, a best friend. the ride or die friend.

and somewhere between the late night text comfort sessions and wiping away your years, he fell in love

realizes that he has to tell you. you deserve to know.

wasn’t expecting you to like him back

“Wait--what? But, you’re with whatstheirface? I-I don’t understand?”

then you have to tell him more about your current relationship, and about how abusive it is

and oh, HELL NO. 

Lance is pissed, so pissed. because his momma and poppa raised him to respect his partners and you don’t deserve that--that monster!

he’s offended for both of you

“Ok listen, I’m gonna get you out of this. But we need some help.”

His plan? He’s gonna show up on a white horse, use it to kick your s/o in the face. pull you up onto the horse one handed. make the horse rear while the sun sets spectacularly behind you, and ride off into the night.

but he doesn’t have a horse.

so new plan. You and Lance sneak over to their place, get any stuff you might have. Switch the locks for giggles while Shiro and Keith stand guard.

Hunk finds their car and slashes 3 tires while Pidge makes sure no video feeds have proof it was him. 3 tires bc then the insurance won’t pay for it.

Lance then uses your phone to call your current s/o to let them know that under no uncertain terms where they ever to contact you again, the abusive bastard. then there’s some more ranting in spanish where Lance continues to call them out until he runs out of creative names

and don’t worry about your ex trying to get back at you. Lance spends every moment he can with you, he’s a Paladin for Voltron’s sake, he’s gonna protect you

also he has everyone on speed dial in case he needs help

brings you flowers weekly, takes you out on dates all the time

he’s determined to make you feel like his princess

because as far as Lance is concerned, every moment spent with you is a gift

Pidge

a simple girl. but doesn’t fall in love right away. she’s just a friend for a while, someone you can chill with every once in a while

until she happens to randomly notice your s/o being abusive then they think no one is around

“Hey Chucklefuck! What the hell was that?!”

She’s furious, she’s yelling at them and not letting them defend themselves. No turning this around on you, because she saw the whole thing.

then she turns to you and asks if you’re gonna be ok. because she is there for you. absolutely, 100%. 

from then on Pidge is your go-to. She’s always making you feel better and helping you realize that you don’t deserve any of the bad shit that’s happening to you

she’s tiny and angry but vehemently supportive

at some point you both realize you like each other more than friends, but what do you do?

Pidge takes off her glasses, “Well it’s simple really,” she puts them back on, “We kill them.”

What?

“Nah, I’m kidding. Well, half kidding.”

Her ideal plan? A snap of the two of you with the caption “I stole ur bae, bitch bye”

buuuut, that’s probably not good for closure. so she opts to be your support for confronting your s/o

she stands there angrily, glaring daggers as they try to defend themselves

she can only hold her tongue for so long and when they start shifting the blame to you she snaps

she’s up in their face, not caring about how tiny she is because “there is no way on God’s green Earth that I am letting your abusive ass hurt Y/n. You. Fucking. Monster!”

continues to defend you and yell at your now official ex, not letting them get a single word in edgewise because they don’t deserve to

she’s absolutely livid until you both leave, happy to have the whole ordeal done and over with.

then she kisses you on the cheek, offers you her arm, and is now determined to be a proper girlfriend

might routinely dox your ex and write letters to their employers about what a piece of shit they are. for giggles.