#aoife's edits

[holyjareau]

can't remember how to say your name let alone count all the freckles on your face

[eurekq]

presenting the lady inquisitor, aoife lavellan

[kennethbrangh]

Ciarán Hinds and his daughter Aoife in Cottontail (2024)

[your-mommy-ems]

joey + aoife

i love them so much. joey and aoife deserve the world my babies 🥺

@midiosaamor @arqbella, @xo-zozo, @sweetreveriee, @xoxotifia (i know most of u dont know the series but i love the edit sm that you're seeing it-)

[forgottenroisin]

Malconaire Samain Traditions

AUTHOR'S NOTES

ok so!!! before i get into this too much, some author's notes, starting w fun facts abt irl samhain (which i wrote samain above bc that's the old irish spelling and we're mostly going w old irish spellings here -- caoimhe rather than keeva, etc) that im running w here are as follows: ancient celtic tradition holds w largely two types of major celebration on their quartered calendar: Beltaine and Samhain which occurred on opposite times of the year, and Imbolc and Lughnasa which also straddled the year. The latter set marked important crop rotations: sowing and harvesting the fields.

The former, however, are said to have been dedicated to the movements of cattle herds and their shephards. At Beltaine, the shephards and their flocks would wrap up their half year of having held their beasts at home amongst the village in the valleys where they were safe from winter snows. at samhain, the shephards would do the opposite: begin driving their herds home across the treacherous montain passes from where they had been grazing in upland pastures for six months, and heading home to the valleys. Both Samhain and Beltane were seen as liminal or threshold holidays. Yet, they were also seen as inverse of one another, with Beltane being a festival for the living and Samhain for the dead.

Many Irish and British Neolithic tombs are aligned such that they are illuminated by the light of the sun as it over Samhain and Imbolc.

In Celtic belief, all spirits appear to be interlinked, w ghosts alternately appearing as faries or gods and vice versa, so I've used guardians, gods, and ghosts here where I thought most appropriate as stand ins but yeah this is just my interpretation??? Anyway, fairy mounds are often literally burial mounds so make of that what you will! I did ultimately choose to include ghosts but I strongly considered restricting it to purely guardians and gods, but yeah! Lmk if you think I should go back and restrict it to just those two!

Samhain in Ireland and Scotland are pr similar, so there'll def bc riffs from both cultures but, bc Rosie's name means little rose, and the very related ancient Welsh tradition of Calan Gaeaf ties in both roses AND ivy v strongly, I'm gonna be pulling a lot from that, as well.

I'm also gonna steal some Venetian St. Mark's Day beliefs and practices and English St. Mark's Eve ones. I have zero excuse except that it dovetails really nicely, and that its frankly sooo fitting for our Miss Rosie.

all the 'tales' here are inspired and even drawn directly from ancient lore!

Cleansing fire and light, cleaning, divination, guising (dressing up and trick or treat-esque shenanigans), dancing, mummery, saining (blessings), feasting, belief that spirits (good and evil, human and fae and godly and demoic, etc) walk amongst us that night, and veneration of the dead are common themes, and it is believed that it is this time when the veil is thinnest between the various otherworlds and our own.

Samhain is a last deep breath before the plunge. It is a time of preparing for the death of winter to come. Interestingly, Samain, the Old Irish root word for Samhain, is thought to come from an ancient word for 'summer,' though it was celebrated in November. No one knows why, but imma lean into it as a rebirth kind of symbolism -- yknow that 'spring in winter' sort of concept. Another explanation is that Samain comes from yet another ancient word that means 'reuninion, assembly,' and imma lean into that, too.

There was initially a fortnight of celebrations for Samain, which overtime got cut down to our modern night of Halloween, so idk how long this celebration should last hahaha and i deliberately left the timeline vague bc of that

Conveniently, I'd already hc'ed that Rosie actually views autumn as more a time of rebirth than spring (weirdly enough, it was actually one of my v first hc's for her!), and all this will allow me to tie it in nicely with her character theme of wonder <3

(Also disclaimer that you might notice some similarities between this and my TFW not!halloween traditions in which case...no you didn't ;DDDDD its just that i was inspired by the same sources hahaha except here i pulled in welsh and venetian things as my secondary instead of ancient roman and greek things aklsjdflkjdfdf)

SAMAIN TRADITIONS

like her sisters, rosie was born around the time of an ancient astairan holiday, causing the celebrations to overlap in malconaire

hers falling near samhain, an autumnal festival celebrating the midpoint between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice, and is held to mark the beginning of winter

it is said that it is at this time that the veil between this world and the other is said to be at its thinnest and, thus, the guardians are feted in an effort to strengthen them during this most dangerous period, w seers and all the ppl of astaira gathering to do whatever they can to help

it is a time of unity and mutual faith, generosity and thanksgiving, of finding strength and hope and cheer in ourselves and in one another even as things grow their darkest

as twilight gleams its last, all the fires in the region are put out and a great bonfire lit by a seer at the local shrine. from this protective blaze, every fire in the region is relit so that cleansing, protective fire burns for the guardians against the gods in every home, every shrine, and every gathering place across all malconaire

it is said that on this night, sometimes even non-seers can hear the whisperings of the guardians -- and that, at times -- the howls of the gods echo across the world, but beware to any who hears ought, for gods can appear and speak as any being they wish and, it is said, one must never trust a stranger who arrives upon samhain who will not go into the light

according to ancient tradition, anyone who believes w a true heart may wield some of the powers of a true seer because the veil is so thin, and in addition to being able to hear the voices of gods and guardians, can also sometimes hear the voices of their deceased loved ones

sometimes this is said to be a trick of the evil gods, but many believe that deceased loved ones do in fact arise

in addition to the fires, many gifts of food and drink and harvest and flowers etc are offered to the guardians, in addition to gifts of delights and entertainments such as dances and plays

as it is said that ghosts rise from their graves at this time, whether crossing over from an otherworld or revived by the power of the wicked gods, welcoming feasts are held in every home and, during the feasts, in addition to offerings made to the guardians, places are set for dead members of the family who may be visiting their loved ones while they are able

hoping to thwart any wicked spirits or gods who might be walking the earth, many wear a guise each night when the protective power of the sun is snuffed out

bc it is said that everyone may have use of a seers powers, it is also tradition to go from house to house and give offerings and blessings back and forth there, and this is often when fires from the great shrine bonefire are brought to each home, as well

following feasting in homes, there is also a tradition of gathering around the great bonfire in the evening and sharing sweets

while there, dancing and plays go on with gift-giving continuing well into the night

traditionally, one carves their name into a stone and then tosses it into the fire. those stones that had had the name burned clean off of it will receive good fortune. those whose names are still writ upon the stones will do well to take care over the course of the winter, with death or misfortune said to hunt them

Myths, legends, and ghost stories are all frequently told around the bonfire, with some tales being considered specific to Samain, and others simply tall tales or simply invented stories, but whatever their origin, stories play a highly important role on Samain, both as offerings and as entertainment. i'll include one or two as a sample somewhere in here

traditionally, all across astaira, peace was delcared during samain and it was a great time of unification, of treaties, of mending fences great and small, neighbor to neighbor and nation to nation, alike, w any conflict or even grudge, save that against the gods, being seen as borderline blasphemous, and an insult to the guardians for all efforts must be communally poured into that conflict at this time

in this same vein, it is a time for housekeeping, both great and small -- houses are cleaned, spick and span, and great councils are called by the rulers to undergo yearly reforms

anyone who broke laws during this time would, therefore, be banished for the rest of the year for the grievous offence of having wounded the goodwill of the guardians

traditionally, astairans avoid crossroads during samain, said to be haunted by nefarious deadmen and gods

on the morning samain, young and unmarried people traditionally go out into the fields and collect ivy and autumn roses. traditionally, girls collect ivy while boys pick roses, after which they come together again, with the girls presenting the boys they admire with ivy and the boys presenting roses to the girls they fancy. if a couple's presentations are mutual, they then wind them together and create crowns of roses-and-ivy to wear. at the end of the day, each girls collects all the roses she has been given, and each boy all his ivy and mingle them till they do not know who gave which. then they toss one into the bonfire for the guardians are return home, placing the remaining plants under their pillow. it is said that they will then dream of their future and, if they remember any of the dream, some of it will come true in the coming year. it is also sometimes said that if they dream of a particular other person, they will likely wed that person.

unmarried women are instructed to darken their rooms in the evening, and then a married woman can look into the mirror to see the face of the future groom. If a skull appears in the mirror, the unmarried woman is meant to die within the year. If a future groom cannot be seen, unmarried women are instructed to peel an apple and throw the skin over their shoulders. The shape the apple skin makes is said to show the first initial of her future husband

just before midnight, any remaining children are bundled off to bed and, then, it is tradition for those who wish to see to gather on the holy ground of the shrine, for surrounded by the guardians is the only way one may safely witness what is to come. those who do not wish to see must return quickly home and close all their windows and close their eyes and try to sleep, for any not protected by the guarian who looks upon it shall die on the spot. those who stay at the shrine may see, but they must maintain absolute silence or it is said they shall never see again. at midnight, the dead walk. a whole squadron of them troop by, but if one should spot oneself or any known to one trooping with them, that person is doomed to die within the year. some say the cause of death may even be observed, drowned victims soaked to the bone or hanged men marching with nooses around their necks, and such the like.

games and friendly competitions around the bonfire are common, such as dares and apple bobbing

two hazelnuts roast near a fire; one named for the person roasting them and the other for the person the desire. If the nuts jump away from the heat, it is a bad sign, but if the nuts roast quietly, it foretells an excellent match. 

Items were hidden in food—usually a cakes and breads — and portions of it served out at random. A person's future is foretold by the item they happened to find; for example, a ring means marriage, and a coin means wealth

A salty oatmeal bannock was baked; the person ate it in three bites and then went to bed in silence without anything to drink. This was said to result in a dream in which their future spouse offers them a drink to quench their thirst

Egg whites are dropped in water, and the shapes foretell the number of future children

SAMPLE OF SAMAIN TALES

story of a seer who rushed up to the door to the otherworld in the repulsion of gods, but closed the door as the gods were sealed off on his thumb. he then sucked on his wounded thumb and, from that moment, was said to have gained otherworldly wisdom but the cost was that he was, too, a link that the gods had to this world so he ultimately sealed himself, too, away inside a tree using their own magic to bind himself so that he could harm no one, but it is said that the gods have no mercy and that they force his ghost to walk the world on the night of Samain and sow the seeds of their ill-will for the year to come.

the monstrous gods used to demand two-thirds of the ppl's crops and livestock and even children during samain before they were sealed away, causing many to starve

a certain god, it is said, would command three men to go to a certain goddess every Samain to seduce her. when they inevitably failed, he would take their lives and force them to walk the world as his undead vessels for the rest of the year, wreaking untold havoc upon the world till at least one did succeed and the goddess gave him her magical garter. before the god killed his two companions, the goddess' lover, said sometimes to be from the snail house and alternately from the frog house, warned the vile god that it would spell his own doom if he struck those men down. laughing, the evil god did so, and so the lover used the magic girdle to fight and defeat him and help the guardians seal him away ((fun fact, this is drawn from a story said to have been the origin of the bog men...hence the frog or snail house being involved!))

one samain night, before the veil was raised against the gods, the king offered a prize to any who could tie a band around a hanged man's ankle. each challenger after the other fled in terror to the king's hall but one. when the band was tied, the dead man asked for a drink so, feeling pity for the hanged man, the challenger carried him on his back, stopping at three houses. when they entered the third, the dead man drank and spat it on the householders, killing them. returning to the gallows to bind him again, the challenger spotted an army of the gods burning the king's hall and slaughtering those inside. the challenger pursued the host through a portal into an otherworld where he learned that what he had seen since touching the hanged man was only a vision of what would happen the next samain unless something was done. he returned to the hall and warned the king, and astaira began to arm themselves against the gods who plotted against them.

another tale tells of a man who fell deeply in love w a goddess before the veil was raised against them. so in love was he that he followed her to an otherworld, despite her warnings that if he followed her, he could never return home. they lived happily together for two years before he began to long for home. watching him pine away, the goddess agreed to allow him to visit the mortal realm on her own horse, but only if he solemnly swore never to dismount the horse which would take him there and then back to her. he hastily agreed and started on his way. yet, when he arrived, he found that in the mortal realm two hundred years, and not two, had passed and that everyone he loved had died. distressed to see their graves, he fell from the horse to kiss them, but as soon as he stepped upon the ground, mortality found him and he grew old and died on the spot, collapsing as no more than bones and dust upon the earth of the graves of those he loved.

according to legend, the tradition of presenting roses and ivy to a lover originated when a man of low social standing is said to have fallen in love with a lady of house malconaire known for wearing ivy in her hair. in order to win her father's approval -- who said he might only wed his daughter if he could prove his love for her was true -- he became involved in a distant war. he was mortally wounded in battle, but managed to pluck a rose from a nearby rosebush for his loved one. a companion was entrusted with returning the blood-stained rose to his lover, who cast the ivy from her hair and wore the rose until the day she died. from their graves, buried beside each other, ivy and roses still grow.

CHARACTER HC'S

it was during samain, many years ago, that domhnall and later his heir, eilionora, offered roderick a treaty but both efforts he rebuffed. to the first effort to achieve peace he did not reply. yet when eilia tried again, he did, sending her only a piece of paper that bore simply a list of the countries he'd already conquered, with astaira's name listed at the bottom. eilia did not try again.

on the samain before bran and sorcha began courting, he decided that he would woo her with the traditional roses. sadly, however, he wasn't able to get out into the fields until late and, when he finally did, all that were left were very, very small roses, indeed. fortunately, she had the same idea and presented him with ivy as well. when she saw the wee rosebuds, which he presented with some embarrassment, saying he ought to have given her something far greater, she laughed and declared that someday he would -- if they ever had a daughter born in autumn, her name should be roisin, for the first gift he had ever given to her.

last samain, rosie presented edmund with ivy, forgetting he problably knew nothing of the tradition (and would likely consider it heresy, if he did!) realizing too late that he probably didn't know what she was telling him, she laughed and made a joke of it, weaving him a ivy crown, anyway, saying that if he meant to rule over astaira, someday, he best pay attention as he would have to know how to make a flower crown. she never mentioned it again.

bran threw eggs into water with sorcha the year they were married. when her egg predicted four children and his six, he was terrified it might mean he would outlive her and she laughed and told him that was a ridiculous thing to suppose, for he'd come to their marriage with two children already: his raven, and malconaire.

the year of sorcha's death, she stayed out to watch the ghosts walk, hoping for a last glimpse of a loved one whom she had just lost, while bran took the children home to sleep. she was drawn and white when bran awoke the next morning and, though she made jokes of it when he mentioned it and proceeded about her day, she seemed distracted, but would say nothing of what she had seen. at the time, bran only assumed that she was distressed about her loss, but after she died, he always wondered if perhaps she had seen her own spirit on the march that night.

though usually done privately for their parents, rosie always enjoyed mumming with her sisters at samain, telling tall tales and dramatic ones alike amongst themselves

while she hasn't done any mummery since childhood, as she imagines its likely not dignified for a lady of her age and position, she does still enjoy guising and generally dresses as favorite heroines from fairy tales and other stories. she is convinced cassandra would enjoy this as well and wants to bring her to such an event one of these years. no o ne can seem to convince her this is terrible idea.

cillian stays out late every year to watch the souls pass and, every year, he informs saoirse that he has seen her go by, but she says she'll have her revenge one of these days, because someday he ~will see her, and then he'll be sorry when he has to tell her so and she laughs in his face.

[acrosstobear]

there's lessons in love sometimes the heart is but a winding road so the story goes.

SOMETHING TO SOMEONE x SCHULOTT ↳ merry christmas aoife @guanyu-ilott

[fideidefenswhore]

i would love tmatl and firebrand to both release into the ‘mainstream’ … soon, and not even bcus i have much inclination to watch either; but to please, please, please god, halt the incessant wank that is occurring in this lacuna of tudor content.

[dunbonnets]

✧. ┊ LABOUR OF LOVE　　　　　　　　Chapter 3: Castle Leoch

Claire Randall. She couldn't believe it. It was her mysterious disappearance and then reappearance at the supposed hands of fairies that had brought Aoife to Craigh na Dun in the first place. Everything suddenly made sense. She had fallen through the stones just as Aoife had, only she'd done it almost eighty years earlier. No wonder she had vanished as thoroughly as she did. What evidence was left behind when you were magically transported back in time?

available only on wattpad and ao3

[morefictionlesslife]

Till death brings us together

It is a continuation of my last story, but I guess you can read it as a stand-alone. Enjoy :)

Aoife/Niten

Niten was standing in front of a mirror wearing a black outer robe with white inner layers. His family crest was embroidered on both sides of his kimono – it was a discreet white crest with two arrows flying beside each other.

It reminded him of her.

Of his fiancée. They, too, had been flying beside one another for so long that he forgot to even hope to have his feelings returned. Until he died and was brought back to life by Tsagaglalal and Prometheus’ aura.

He remembered her strong small body embracing him, calling out to him, getting angry at him. The last one wasn’t surprising. It happened from time to time. But then he had taken the leap he had feared for so long. He had told her how he felt, because then at least, she would know the truth, if nothing else. She teased him, breaking his heart in the process, then she had accepted and kissed him.

Aoife had kissed him.

Niten smiled to himself when he thought about that moment. It was engraved in his mind forever.

He was so in thoughts that he completely missed the dressing room door being opened. Although, he would never admit to such a heinous accusation. He had a reputation to uphold.

“How fares the groom? Having cold feet?” teased Prometheus from the corridor leaning heavily onto the doorpost. When Niten turned around to look at the man, he couldn’t help but smile along. The Elder looked good for his age and the events that had occurred. His reddish hair was somewhat recovered, only a small portion of grey hair peeked through the red. His suit was…acceptable, not Niten’s personal choice, but clothes did not matter to the man. It was already than enough to have the elder man there, even though his orange suit made the groom’s eyes water.

“Never,” promised the swordsman, smiling even wider. How could he ever, when this was everything, he had ever wanted?

Prometheus huffed and straightened himself up. “Alright, alright. The first one out of the two of you, who would break this up, would probably be my niece.” Niten’s eyes betrayed his shock, and his hands trembled. Did Aoife say something? Do something? Was that why the older man was there? Had she changed her mind? Did she not want him anymore?

“Ah, you misunderstood me, my friend, I was merely being hypothetical.” The younger man gave the Elder a warning look. His shoulders slumped as his breathing became regular again. The swordsman had really lost a considerable number of years just from the teasing of this family. The number of times, he had had a heart attack, because one of the redheads or their uncle decided to be playful and lead him astray with their words, was astronomical. He could have grey hair just from those three. Not counting their grandmother, who said would show up for the wedding, making the Japanese swordsman sweat even more.

She had made her threat come true, because Niten had already gotten a glimpse of her when he had checked the garden if everything had gone according to plan. He had contemplated whether to approach the Witch of Endor and risk losing his head for asking Aoife’s hand or just pretend he didn’t see her and bolt. His immaculate upbringing hadn’t allowed him not to greet his fiancée’s family member. But the Witch had decided for him when she turned her back to him and went to greet her brother. Somehow the Japanese had known that she had known he was there. When he turned back to get dressed, he felt a big mirror to his left watching him.

The Elder moved closer to his soon to be son-in-law. He considered the twins to be his daughters so… “She is getting ready for the ceremony just as you are.” Prometheus bowed down to whisper into smaller man’s ear. “And, honestly, being even more nervous than you.” He pulled back. “She is fidgeting around the room like some ancient god is about to attack her. But then again, she would probably be even calmer if that were the case. Aoife can fight with everything…hold a decent conversation and talk about her feelings…not so much. The fact that she is doing both with you, means you are the perfect one for her.” Aoife talked with him about her feelings to a degree, would have the Japanese added, but kept it to himself.

Niten smiled for the hundredth time this day as he thought about his future wife. It was too good to be true, but over time the Japanese had learned to take everything given to him. It would only take a second to be lost, so he intended to make every moment count.

“And your purpose here is to make me even more nervous?” asked the Japanese with a grin as he straightened his kimono and pushed away dust particles, that had found a way to his robe.

Prometheus grabbed an apple form the wood cabinet standing near the door and took a huge chunk from it. “Exactly,” crunched the older, making both laugh. “No, actually I am here for the free food and alcohol, messing with you is just a bonus.” Niten heard him laugh in the corridor as he left the Japanese alone again.

The ceremony was about to start in 30 minutes. Niten couldn’t be happier and more rigid at the same time. In an hour he would be Aoife’s husband to take care of her, to be there for her and fight beside her. And she in return, would be there for him.

So why couldn’t he stay calm? His heart was beating like crazy; his hands were all over the place and his controlled breathing, he had worked for so long and maintained throughout his immortal life, was nowhere to be found. What a swordsman he was when he couldn’t handle his own wedding?

Perhaps, it was his biggest challenge yet. And the most rewarding one. Being Aoife’s husband was both terrifying and everything he could ever want. What if he disappointed her?

“Knock, knock,” said an angel or a demon, depended on who to ask, from the doorway. Though, the man was almost a hundred per cent sure, that he was the only one, who would call Aoife of the Shadows an angel. Even her uncle considered the twins to be little rascals.

Niten stood with his back to the door, but he could see the smiling redhead, when he looked at his fiancée from the mirror he was standing in front of. When their eyes met, the man gave her his biggest smile, which reached almost to his ears, and his dimples framed his already happy face.

“You know, in some cultures the groom should not see the bride before the ceremony,” said Niten to his wife-to-be, who had begun to sneak towards him with inaudible steps. His beloved wore a long black cape that covered most of her dress. Some of the green material still peeked through the opening in the front, leaving Niten no doubt that she will look gorgeous in it. The colour matched the green of her eyes perfectly.

Aoife smirked at him: “And there are cultures, where the bride will feast on her husband’s heart after the wedding.”

He chuckled and turned around just in time to catch Aoife securely in his arms, when she jumped at the man without much thought. The redhead put her hands in Niten’s combed hair, making a mess of it within seconds, and wrapped her legs around his body, taking him into her strong embrace. The cape and the dress underneath it, did restrict some of her movements, but both paid it no heed, while smiling to each other.

The Japanese proposed, while supporting his future wife with his hands around her back: “How about we disregard both of these traditions?” He caressed his beloved’s spine with his right hand, making the woman lean in even closer.

“Mm, and I so looked forward to the second one,” said Aoife slily, while sliding her fingers across his husband-to-be’s face making the swordsman’s face flustered, before finding Niten’s lips with her own.

Showing intimacy in public or even in their own home hadn’t come easily for the warriors. Niten could tell that most of the time, she was worried that she had crossed some lines, even if he had stated many times that she had a permission to kiss and hug him whenever she felt like it. Even the man was not sure, how much he could allow himself to do, what she was comfortable with. That required talking and while Niten had no problem talking to others, it seemed that every time he looked at Aoife, his breath caught, and his face started burning. She made him nervous. So, both held back in fear of hurting or insulting the other.

Some days felt like the old days, like nothing had changed, like they hadn’t gotten engaged or expressed their affections. Niten would wake up alone for Aoife needed very little sleep, Niten would make breakfast, they would go hunt demons or other creatures or the couple would practice or watch TV. The night would roll, and the man would go to bed.

Niten didn’t know how to break the cycle until one rainy day, he took a leap, because the last time he allowed himself to chicken out, he became to regret it a little too late.

The Japanese had sat on a couch and read a fairly good book, when he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted Aoife to know the depth of his adoration for her. After that morning at the bay, when he had poured out his heart, and occasional words, he hadn’t really had a chance or rather given himself a chance to convey his devotion to her.

“Aoife,” started Niten carefully and stared at the woman training with her nunchaku inside their apartment near the pier, where his boat was. He sat in his reading corner as Aoife had once called it, while she destroyed yet another training doll in the living room. She wore black training clothing, not even a strand of hair out of place, when he drew her attention to himself.

She looked back at him with curiosity in her beautiful eyes. “What is it?”

“Would it be agreeable if I expressed my love for you?” asked the swordsman. He wasn’t satisfied with how the question came out, it left out so much, but it would have to do.

As expected, it brought more confusion than clarity. The redhead blushed, brought her weapon to a standstill, and stammered abashed: “Like right now or…?”

Niten stood up and placed the book on the counter. The Japanese offered the warrior a little smile while explaining: “I meant…always.” The woman put the nunchaku silently on the table and came closer her eyes searching for his. Have they always been that green? That beguiling? “Maybe not always, but more often. You accepted my hand in marriage and yet, sometimes I don’t see any difference, while I loved what we had before my death,” Aoife flinched, her lips grimaced at the horrible memory, “now that you know my feelings and aren’t repulsed by them, I don’t want to keep them silent, I would like to say, you mean the world to me, many worlds, I would like to hug you once in a while and…”

Niten stopped abruptly to shake his head. In his enthusiasm, he had completely forgotten that the redhead could decline any time and decide she didn’t want his affections to be expressed every day. To mend his mistake, he switched the theme and offered quickly: “If you don’t want, I, of course, will…”

Aoife wrapped her hands around his neck to put her head against his shoulder. Niten, while freezing for one second, recovered fast and pressed the woman as close as possible with his hands around her slim frame. He lowered his face into her soft spiky hair to breath his love in. While not having spores, Niten could swear she did have unique smell to her that he could recognize anywhere. To him, she smelled like home.

“Niten,” whispered Aoife, her warm breath against his neck making Niten shiver.

“Yes,” he wasn’t sure, he should add that little endearment, but couldn’t hold himself back, when his heart was overflown with love for his fierce warrior, who clutched him so firmly to her, “my love?” The swordsman had called her that also on that fateful day, when he felt, he could do anything.

The redhead blushed furiously against him, but the man didn’t miss the small smile that had crept up her face and refused to go away.

“What is it?” repeated Niten overjoyed with happiness of being that close to the one he loved.

Suddenly, Aoife looked up at him and removed her hands from around him, letting the cold air hit against his neck once more. She stepped a few steps back and began waving with her hands in no direction: “It’s just, I don’t know how to…to do all of this. I’ve never been engaged before; I’ve never had someone I…someone I…someone I love. Romantically at least, that much. You will have to tell me, what I must do and when I do something wrong.” Niten’s face lit up seeing her saying the words once more. He never doubted the sincerity of her feelings, but it was nice to hearing them out loud.

She remembered an error in her earlier words and added: “Well, there was Cuchulain.”

Niten didn’t think there existed anyone he hated more than Cuchulain. The human had lived hundreds, if not thousands, of years before he was even born, but that did nothing to quell his rage for him. Partly because he was the core reason for so much of Aoife’s sadness; this man had separated her from her beloved sister. While not entirely his fault; the twins should have communicated better or, from Niten’s understanding and few pieces of information from Aoife, at all; the Japanese found himself hating the human.

The second reason was a little bit silly and a lot more personal. Cuchulain had been in love with Aoife, the woman he loved. While Niten was busy pining over Aoife, the unattainable warrior, she had confessed that there were some romantical feelings involved from her part with this Irish warrior. Although Scathach seemed to have been the one that had been falling harder for the man, it had come as a shock to Niten when the object of his affections had said that she had feelings for this ancient fighter.

The night after this discovery was one of the very few nights immortal Niten, the fierce Miyamoto Musashi got absolutely wasted. He didn’t remember half the things he did the next morning, only the ugly emotion of jealousy that had clouded his mind and heart. Aoife made a few comments about his unusual behaviour but didn’t pry further. The man wished she had, maybe then he would have had the courage to state his feelings, but no, he sulked in the shadows and trained harder than ever, so his dreams would not revolve around the happy couple, making him sick and broken-hearted.

Niten really hated the man, this Cuchulain.

It was a few years back, when they heard about the Las Vegas incident with Scathach and Billy the Kid of all people. Cuchulain or Setanta, like he had called himself, had, in fact, survived and tried to kill Scathach, blaming her for his fate. Niten had to physically restrain Aoife from going to Las Vegas and destroying the entire city. The swordsman hadn’t the faintest clue, what that would accomplish, but he felt the urge to do the same. The man he had hated had somehow survived and going after the twins.

Not on his watch.

Their fury was unnecessary, because Scathach had already killed him. Niten didn’t want to know, what Aoife would have done, if the immortal had harmed or, even worse, killed the twin, Aoife’s baby sister.

So now, he took a deep breath and reminded himself, that Aoife loved him and not the dead warrior.

At the same time, he had contemplating bringing back Cuchulain so he would kill him himself, Aoife muttered quietly to herself: “Aoife, you coward, you can fight anyone, but can’t say Niten you love him?” She kicked a cardboard box lying on the ground towards a small ocean view window.

The man watched her adoringly. Niten told Aoife as she finally made an eye contact with him: “I love you, too, very much. I, too, have no previous experience in marriage or that kind of companionship. But…Every romance I have read or heard about is different, unique. I don’t think there is one right way to do things.” The Japanese began to cross the room with steady steps. “It is just us. Do what feels right because our relationship isn’t defined by someone else’s. It’s ours. So, kiss me when you feel like it, hug me when you like it or don’t, and I promise to do the same. If we don’t cross each other’s boundaries and talk about those things, it will be whatever we make of it.” He came to stand in front of red-faced Aoife and held his hand out for her. “So, would you like to learn and explore together?”

Aoife hesitated only for a second before taking his hand and pulling him down to kiss her.

After that, things got easier. Niten allowed himself to hug her from behind when he found her irresistible. Only when she knew it was him because he didn’t wish to end up dead. She kissed him sweetly when he made her a warm drink on a cold winter night.

It was good. Very good.

This was how things got to this point that these two ended up choosing January the 3rd as their wedding date.

“We are not having sex before our marriage ceremony,” told Niten breathlessly as he slowly and regretfully pulled back from Aoife’s relentless kissing, his lips swollen and his black hair like a bird’s nest.

Niten had stumbled, after the first few kisses, Aoife clinging to his shoulders and feet like vices around his midsection, backwards into an armchair, while losing his common sense and deciding that 30 minutes before the wedding would be the perfect time to have a make-out session.

But how could he deny her anything, when she looked at him like he was her world?

Aoife smirked happily and not flustered at all for she didn’t need to breath: “You want to wait until marriage?”

The man smiled slyly: “A little late for that, I think.” Aoife lowered her lips to his neck to bite there, being careful with her vampire teeth, and Niten would have let her; even when a horrible image of him standing in front of the altar with a visible hickey on his neck, came to his mind; when a shriek filled the room, making the woman hop to her feet in less than a second to fight whatever was coming their way. Niten was not far behind.

“MY EYES! I never want to see this ever again!” came an upset voice from the doorway. It was a pitch higher than Aoife’s. “You have 20 minutes to get ready and you two decide to…Never mind, you will have to come. And soon.” Scathach had covered her face and was grimacing while backing away from the dreadful scene that had unfolded before her very eyes.

“Well, you will have to because I am going to kiss my husband in front of everybody,” declared Aoife victoriously. The groom shook his head at the twins. She laughed at the sulking twin: “Nice dress, by the way.”

Scatty looked at the verge of killing the bride before the wedding in her pink bridesmaid’s dress. Niten didn’t think the dress was that bad, but clearly the Shadow thought something else, if her expression was anything to go by.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” muttered Scatty to herself and crossed her arms. Then, still upset from walking in on them, she directed her next saying at the man. “Niten, and I thought you had some sense of property. Clearly, I was wrong! I hate both of you.”

With that she walked away but was back half a second later: “You have 20 minutes, well, 19 now. Hurry up! Or you are not getting married!”

Then she was gone.

“Don’t worry,” murmured Aoife catching her fiancé’s arm, rising to her tiptoes, and whispering into his left ear, “I quite like this adventurous part of you.” She let her lips linger on the swordsman ear.

“Was I not adventurous before?” asked Niten with a sly smile. After all those wonderful trips to various Shadowrealms; fights, encounters with strange species and narrow escapes; he still wasn’t adventurous enough for his darling wife?

Aoife smirked close to his face. He felt her breath on his lips; that reminded him of the sweetness of her kisses. Unknowingly, the swordsman licked his bottom lip and Aoife’s gaze was taken over by lust.

She leaned closer so she could touch his lips with her own: her hand found a way to his hair. Niten drew the warrior closer by putting both his arms around her to flush her against himself. Had she always been this soft?

Aoife whispered: “Scandalous.”

Niten snapped. Their lips finally moved against each other, and their tongues danced together. The Japanese lifted the woman up and curling her into himself, while she threw her both arms around his neck and held onto Niten like she never intended to let go of him. The swordsman reciprocated the action. After all, she was his future, how could he ever let go?

A faraway gong brought the couple back to reality, only to realize that they had exactly ten minutes before the ceremony. And they, in fact, were still very interested in getting married; they had to control themselves. To some, it was easier (not easier per se, but they had more control over their desires), to some, it took a bit of persuasion and promises of making it up to them, to get them finally to let go.

The swordsman suggested quietly, while still holding her between his arms: “We should tidy up lest we make it very clear to everyone out there, what we did in here.”

“And how is that their problem? You are to be my husband, I can do what I want with you behind closed doors,” answered in her usual challenging way.

“The door was not closed, my love, as your sister demonstrated,” brushed Niten her unkept hair out of her eyes, “also, I believe I saw your grandmother. Do you want…”

“Tidying up is an excellent suggestion, husband mine,” said the woman quickly and letting the man slip from her grasp to take up a comb. Niten laughed.

Aoife hesitated for a moment in the doorway with a strange expression. The Japanese looked at her in worry.

“I’ll be the one in green,” stated Aoife a little bit wobbly. It was finally here! Their wedding. It was not happening in his dreams. This was reality.

He smiled blindingly at his one and only, at his love, at the reason he still felt alive after 400 years, at his Aoife. He knew that she was nervous. It was his honour to reassure her.

The swordsman placed the comb on the table to cross the room and take Aoife’s hands in his own. “It’s just me out there. Like I said, it’s for us. This wedding is a way of telling everyone what we already have. Do you plan on running away?”

“No,” came an instant reply.

“Do you think I will abandon you at the altar?”

“No,” came a strong answer, but Niten detected a look of fear behind those gorgeous eyes.

He smiled at his wife and didn’t bother on correcting himself because that’s ultimately what she was – his other half. “Alright then, we have nothing to worry about. The only essential people in the wedding are the bride and the groom. And the last time I checked; they are here.”

“Well, there is the one who conducts the ceremony…”

The swordsman sighed. “You have a way of turning my every romantic declaration into…something else.” He was loss for correct words.

“It’s just my charm,” smiled Aoife, but turned serious quickly. “Also, thank you.” She kissed his cheek sweetly.

The Japanese caught a glimpse of her forest green dress underneath of the black cloak. That reminded him. “Beloved, I don’t need anything to recognize you from the others. Never fear that.”

“You can’t just say things like that!” declared Aoife with reddening face. She pulled her hands free at his scandalous behaviour. Ah, so the make-out sessions are fine, but his darling drew a line at romantic nothings. Too bad.

“It’s my wedding day, I can say whatever I want to my bride,” said grinning Niten turning her earlier words to work in his favour.

Blushing woman grinded her teeth. Aoife said an ultimatum: “I still have a chance to not show up!” Both knew that to be a playful bluff.

Niten couldn’t help but take advantage of this. He sighed with a mournful expression: “Well, then I have to preserve them for someone el…” Before he could finish, he had an armful of furious warrior, who would make sure that every single one of his romantic sayings would be directed at her. She would just have to put up with those, because the thought of not having his love was too much, a reality she didn’t want to live in. As if he would ever have anyone else.

She was his forever.

“Don’t you dare! You are mine, Miyamoto Musashi!”

“I have been yours since the moment I met you, Aoife of the Shadows,” assured Niten to Aoife with all his heart.

[aoifereal]

This is one of my favourite images I've ever made. Do you get it guys. It's a channel island

[zindoesart]

pixel art edit of a 22/7 magazine scan! featuring my OCs delphine, anemone, and aoife ❤️💚🧡

[holyjareau]

i'm back !!! i'm trying to update here slowly so i can get more graphics out to you <3

[rabbithaver]

wolfquest is a good game

[disabled-dragoon]

The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz 

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

---

With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

---

Submit a Book:

[calendae-creations]

Since these seem to be The Thing To Do at the moment,

Edit: that should read "large tub of acrylic yarn," not "lare." Sorry.

[fourthwingfanclub]

Violets Second Signet **Spoiler Warning**

Ok, after a long time thinking about this, and reading Iron Flame 4 times I think I am ready to theorize my idea for Violets second signet.

Let's start by summarizing what we know.

I have seen that some people have speculated that her signet is Distance wielder because she asked Xaden if that was his. While I don't think that was just brought up without a purpose, I don't think that would be her signet. (I think Aaric might end up being that).

I also think Violet's signet is going to be something that either we have never seen before, or very rare. This power comes from Andarna, she's a special breed of Dragon that has been basically extinct for 650 years.

Signets are based on the rider, and what they need most at their core. Violet needs information, Facts.

It is also mentioned many times that Violet has a mind of a scribe and the heart of a rider. I think this is important, more important than we know yet.

I think Violet can process events and information in slow motion. I think she can see everything around her happening, giving her time to process and record the events within her mind. While this doesn't seem significant, to Violet its everything. There are a few events that's stood out to me that made me think this.

First, when she reviews what Aiofe wrote and admits she missed some things. Also, Jesinia mentions that stories can change depending on who is transcribing them. Violet is mad about the amount of information that has been forgotten or changed due to scribes hiding the Venin from Navarre. She would want to recount everything correctly.

“Absolutely.” I nod, then take the notebook and skim Aoife’s neat handwriting. It’s amazingly accurate, with little details I’d missed, like the two infantry cadets who’d offered to be the healers’ aides because that’s their job for the squad. They have designated roles for each mission. I set it down on top of the book I’m returning to sign. “This is incredible.” “Glad to hear it’s accurate.” She glances over her shoulder, as if checking to see if we’re alone, which we are. “The tricky thing is to capture the truth and not just an interpretation. Stories can change depending on who tells them.”

Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 224). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

Second, the way some of the events and wording were portrayed made me suspicious that these were written a specific way. They were very detailed catching events that were happening in seconds or described as happening in slow motion. I think we see some clues to this being her signet once we get to Part 2 of the book and Andarna is awake and Channeling. We know Violets first signet showed up right after she started channeling with Tairn (that first kiss with Xaden), so it would make sense that she could have been showing signs of her second signet without realizing it. I don't think she was fully able to wield until the final battle though. My reasoning for this is if she was, even if she was unaware, Tairn would have sensed her pulling power from another source and wielding. If he did during the battle, we won't know that until the 3rd book since we don't get much info on events once battle has ended.

Examples of her signet showing up prior to final battle as follows...

Time slows to sluggish heartbeats as I watch him reach for the ground.

Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 567). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

Everything somehow slows and yet happens at once.

Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 597). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

Time slows to heartbeats, my breath freezing in my heated chest. Then the wyvern crosses the invisible barrier, and my heart stops beating altogether as its wings flap once. Twice.

Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 745). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

During the battle, two events really stood out - when Violet was waiting for the Venin to come upon them and worried about her friends. She says they have 10 seconds maybe. It is then described in detail all the events taking place a second at a time. Shes following this dagger being repaired while simultaneously aware of everything and everyone around her. She is able to gather copious amounts of information in a short, small amount of time.

One. Ridoc waves his hands at my right, holding a dagger that’s been snapped in two. Shit, if his only remaining blade is broken—I blink when the pieces disappear. He wasn’t waving at me. Two. Snapping my head to the left, I find the pieces already in Rhiannon’s hands as Feirge dives to where Sliseag hovers beneath. Three. Feirge flies alongside Sliseag, and Rhiannon tosses the pieces. Four. To Sawyer’s credit, he catches them. Five. Sgaeyl rises to take Feirge’s place, and I lock eyes with Xaden only long enough to see that he’s unharmed. Blood both drips from Sgaeyl’s mouth and runs in rain-driven rivulets down the side of Xaden’s face, but I instinctively know it’s not his and focus on the imminent threat. Six. Breathe. I have to breathe through the firestorm in my chest or I’ll burn out. It’s not that I don’t recognize the signs: the trembling, the heat, the fatigue. It’s just that they don’t matter. Everyone I love is on this field. Seven. They’re almost on us, and I look down at the ward chamber, where Marbh stands watch with a Blue Clubtail I don’t recognize and a vague shape I hope is Andarna, and when a flash of sunlight reflects on the dagger in Sawyer’s hand, it disappears again, Feirge already on the move. Eight. “Dajalair is frustrated by the unflyable conditions,” Tairn relays as Feirge rises alongside Aotrom. Nine. “Tell them they’re more efficient guarding the courtyard and incoming wounded than struggling with waterlogged wings,” I note. “They’d be a liability up here right now, not an asset.” The dagger changes hands, and Ridoc is once again armed. I grin at how seamlessly we work as a team, then face the coming tidal wave. Ten. “You’re beginning to think—” Tairn starts. “Like Brennan?” I suggest as the wyvern enter our airspace. “Like Tairn,” Sgaeyl answers,

Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (pp. 827-828). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

The last scene that made me think this was when Sawyer and Aotrom was being attacked by multiple wyverns. Violet is able to assess the situation, gather the information, which gave her the opportunity to save her friends. I think this speaks directly to the battle at Resson, her world had been so turned upside down with the realization that everything she knew was false she was unable to fully piece together the information she did know about how wyvern is made from Venin, she feels responsible for Liam.

We’re almost there, but everything happens so fucking fast that it’s as if the rest of the world slows down. In one heartbeat, the closest wyvern opens its jaws. In the second, it blasts green fire across Sliseag and Sawyer dives backward out of the seat, narrowly avoiding being burned to death and rolling down Sliseag’s spine with a smoking boot. In the third, it completes its assault, snapping at Sliseag’s exposed side. Sawyer kicks at the gaping jaws to save his dragon from the bite, but in the next, he takes it himself, his leg disappearing between the wyvern’s massive teeth.

Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 833). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

With that I leave you with this blurb from Xaden

“You have to find your center again, Violet. I can’t do it for you.” He holds my gaze, letting his words sink in, before adding, “You are a creature of logic and facts, and everything you know got turned upside down and shaken. You’ll never know how truly sorry I am for that. But you can’t just sit there and hope. You want it to change, then you have to figure it out, just like Gauntlet. You’re the only one who can.”

Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 663). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.