#but I cannot get over how utterly random the sun and moon and stars and glass mountain are

[theriu]

This is really pretty art and the ravens look like such friends! Ya'll, I had never read The Seven Ravens before, so I looked it up and lemme tell you WOW. Like really WOW. THIS is my new standard for Randomest Fairy Tale Plots. Here’s the story in case you want to read it, but I’m gonna break it down here (really long so putting it under the cut):

Dad has seven sons, statistically great for dads back in Ye Olden Times, but he SUPER wanted a daughter. Aw! How sweet! Good dad, right? WELL GIVE IT A MINUTE

Daughter is sickly and might die, so dad sends sons to get water for emergency baptism. Sons have usual son competitiveness, each wanna be first to get the water, drop the bucket in the well and stand around like, “Oh crap what do we do now.” Normal dumb kid behavior honestly.

Dad, fearing his daughter will die without being baptized, assumes they forgot about their sister and ran off to play. Gets mad and WISHES THEY WOULD BE TURNED INTO RAVENS. Why?! Why this specific thing?! This does not sound like something you say expecting it to actually happen.

But SURPRISE! Boys get turned into ravens. Parents are all “Oops oh crap” and can’t take back the curse, all seven sons leave (understandable, really). First moral lesson: DO NOT WHIP OUT CURSES OR YOU WILL FACE THE CONSEQUENCES

Daughter does not die, so LITERALLY EVERYTHING WOULDA BEEN FINE IF YOU HADN’T FREAKED OUT, DAD

Parents keep daughter from knowing she has brothers. She finds out when villagers make snarky remarks that it’s the daughter’s fault her brothers got turned into ravens. DUDES SHE WAS A BABY HOW DARE YOU

Parents explain situation by claiming, “It had been heaven's fate, and that her birth had been only the innocent cause.” Good on them comforting her on the second point, but exCUSE YOU Dad, by all accounts this was 100% YOUR FAULT, don’t blame heaven for your temper and bad decisions.

Here’s where things start derailing into Super Weird Territory.

Daughter goes on a Quest to find and save her brothers. Just takes a ring to remember her parents, a little bread and water, and a little chair. None of these items are magical, but boy does that bread and water last a while, because she then:

Walks TO THE END OF THE WORLD and meets the Sun, who eats kids. Switches to visiting the Moon, who also eats people. Nothing is gained from these interactions. THIS IS NEVER EXPLAINED

Visits the Stars, who are super nice and all sit in little chairs with her. This is also not explained, but it is very sweet.

One Star tells her to find her bros at the Glass Mountain. Gives her a chicken bone. The chicken bone is the key. Why??? Why a glass mountain? Why is the key a chicken bone? Please explain to me the lost symbolism I assume must be here???

Gets to Glass Mountain, but lost the chicken bone. CUTS OFF HER LITTLE FINGER and uses that instead, and “fortunately, the door opened.” Can’t help but wonder if this worked because of her self-sacrifice or because any bone would have worked. Probably the first because fairy tale tropes, but I feel like it might have been prudent to try a few other options first.

Once in the mountain, meets a dwarf. Dwarf is the servant of the “lord ravens.” So there is a whole backstory we are missing here of how these seven boys, arbitrarily turned into talking ravens, became lords of a cool magical glass mountain and got a dwarf butler.

Dwarf Butler invites her to wait for them and sets out their dinner. Daughter eats a little from each plate and drinks a little from each cup, then leaves the ring from her parents in the last cup. Why??? Why didn’t you just ask for your own plate? Dwarf butler seems really nice, he probably woulda got you something. Also it’s unclear if she left the ring in the last cup on purpose or dropped it in by accident. Girl needs to work on not dropping things if it’s the second option.

Hides herself behind the door when the ravens come home. Again, why??? Was this not why you came? At least give us something like “she was nervous they would hate her for ‘causing their misfortune.’“

Raven Bros come home, notice someone has been snacking. First of all, how exact are your portions that you can tell a little bit of drink is gone from your cups? And HOW DO YOU KNOW IT WAS BY “A HUMAN MOUTH”? Do dwarves have different mouths???

Seventh bro sees the ring, says, “God grant that our sister might be here; then we would be set free.” If that was the cure then why have you been here the whole time??? Did you not know where your house is? Did you think your sister was dead? Actually, that would make sense since the last time they saw her, their dad was convinced she was gonna die and they failed to bring the water for the baptism. I can see them running off out of guilt and thinking she was dead this whole time. (Does not explain the glass mountain or dwarf butler, though.)

When the sister hears this, she comes out, and the boys are INSTANTLY transformed back to humans. So did the sister SPECIFICALLY have to go on a Quest to find the brothers while they were hiding away? That wouldn’t surprise me either, honestly, curses have weird guidelines like that, but NO ONE mentioned this anywhere; there was no evil witch leaving hints or some such thing. This girl literally left to find them based purely on her own conscience and a vague hope she could help them. So the moral here is yay for having really good siblings, I guess? I do appreciate a curse that for once doesn’t have any extra guidelines; she just had to get to them (and there was the chicken bone key thing, I suppose).

“They hugged and kissed one another, and went home happily.” Yay happy family reunions! <3 Although I do wonder if the Glass Mountain where they were literal lords wouldn’t have been a cooler place to stay after all they went through. Do they get kicked out for being humans now? Magic Animal Lords Only?

If that dad wasn’t on his KNEES SOBBING AND ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS when all his kids came back through the door, I will punt him into a freezing puddle. Dude has done NOTHING right aside from wanting a daughter and reassuring her she wasn’t to blame for this mess. Cursed his boys (and for something they didn’t even do), blamed the boys and heaven for their curse, DID NOT SEARCH FOR THEM, HID THEIR EXISTENCE FROM THEIR SISTER, DID NOT HELP SISTER SEARCH FOR BOYS. Either he didn’t know what would save the boys but could have been out searching for them and a cure, or he knew their sister could save them but didn’t tell her about them. The mom is also complicit in the not-telling part, but most of this is on the dad. You better be extra nice to these kids.

So, the overall Morals Of The Story (to my understanding) are as follows:

Don’t have dumb contests about who gets to go first when you’re doing an important task (that really was dumb, come on boys, your sister is possibly dying).

Don’t say rash things in your anger, and do NOT curse people, especially based on your bad assumptions of why they deserve it rather than on actual fact.

Don’t flippin’ hide the existence of your lost children from their sibling, that’s just messed up. Also, don’t blame others for your mistakes.

Don’t ask the Sun or the Moon for help, because they eat people.

Human fingers are adequate substitutes for magical mountain-unlocking chicken bone keys. (More helpfully: Self-sacrifice and ingenuity can overcome obstacles.)

Being an awesome sibling really can save the day!

Also, on a tangentially related note, I finally understand where some of the core elements from the webcomic Raven Saga come from now. :D THANK GOODNESS THE MOON IN THIS COMIC IS A CLASSY GUY AND NOT A PERSON-EATER

"The Seven Ravens" by the Brothers Grimm

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Cycles

Ezra x reader

A/N: So. This is a thing that happened. Title and lyrics are from Cycles by Tove Lo. Apparently I’m making a habit out of writing Pedro Pascal’s characters one-shots with Tove Lo songs as some of the inspiration.

Warnings: This is something that happens to me, usually at night when I have a harder time distracting my mind. I get overwhelmed by my own thoughts and I can’t break out of the cycle of thoughts and it’s terrifying. Not like a panic attack but the only things I can do are squeeze something soft, sway in a rhythm, and hum horribly until it passes.

I'm in a cycle / yeah, I admit it / how can I change it when I don't know when I'm in it? / i'm in a cycle

You aren’t sure if it was the humming, the rhythmic rocking sway of your bare feet on the metal floor, or the lack of your body next to his that woke Ezra. Maybe all three.

But you only have a brief moment to notice the confused look on his face, half in shadow, as he searches for you in the low light of the pod. And then it pulls you back under.

That wave of endless fear, dulled only by the coursing of random thoughts that leave your muscles taught and shaking as you squeeze the fabric of the softest blanket Ezra could find you.

It's balled up against your chest, curled and twisted in on itself, the drag of it's plush texture soothes it's way across your arms, your chest, and pushes itself through the thin tank top. You've been rubbing a corner of it between your fingertips for as long as you have been standing here.

It could have been hours and you wouldn't have noticed.

The ends of your hair drag back and forth like a painters brush on your bare upper arms. The only sensations that matter are the ones that keep you from choking on the void of repetitive and disastrous thoughts.

The moment Ezra finds your form, hunched over and drifting side to side with some unknown, intense purpose he scrambles from the cot and over to you as swiftly as he can in the darkness. And once he is close enough, hand outstretched to grasp you, he sees your eyes, they way they reach past anything he can see, tilted up to look out one of the glass panels of the pod.

But you aren't really seeing, you haven't even acknowledged his presence a mere step in front of yourself. Sleepwalking, he considers. But no, this hasn't happened before, and surely you would have mentioned such a thing. Especially being out in the Green.

Oh no, this is something hauntingly different than the you Ezra sees during the waking hours. Your eyes are now fixed, on what he won't dare imagine, when they normally cannot seem to stay in one place. Always searching out something new to see, eventually coming back to land on him.

You are his Hummingbird, quick and skittish, but tenacious. Hungry for new opportunities, new things to learn, to consume and love and protect.

Oh you are a lethal protector, even in your kindness, a fray even he would hesitate to throw himself into.

Your swaying creaks the flooring of the pod in an offbeat tune and he wonders if it isn't helping to keep you locked in whatever state this is, the lines of your body tight with strained muscles.

He puts his hand on your arm but nothing. Not a flinch, no reaction, just the brush of his palm to your skin and you continue in your eerie dance. It sends a slow crawling fear down his gut, cold and precise.

"Hummingbird" he speaks quietly at first, putting his hand on your arm with purpose, not to stop you, just to make contact.

You let out a small hum and it's a weight lifted off of his shoulders.

"Birdie, can you look at me?" he asks, hand grasping more tightly, feeling the muscle beneath your skin coil and relax in turns.

Another hum vibrates the air and he can't decipher its meaning. If Ezra is a man of words, and indeed he is, you are a language he isn't always able to understand, even before now.

It scares him, that he can't always reach you with words, and now he is adequately terrified. He is more than confident that you are aware of this, you speak in looks and silent motions, subconscious expressions are your prose.

So he attempts a line out of your book. Putting his only arm around you, not pulling your body to him but the other way around. He secures himself to you like moss clinging to a tree and sways with you.

The blanket you have clutched against your chest is now a cushion for his as well, your arms caught in-between. Both barefoot on the grating of the floor, the metal is sure to leave imprints as a reminder.

Your head is tilted back, eyes on that far off point he'll never see, so Ezra watches the movement of your neck, the lift and fall of your chest, fingers gripping the cloth of your top where his hand finds purchase on your back.

He doesn't know how long you both stay like this, only that he tries to keep his own body relaxed, hoping it will leech into yours. And he keeps his words from tumbling out, trying to translate them instead to the movements of his fingers, the pressure and placement of his hand on your back.

He would stay here, silent as the coldness of space, for as long as you needed him.

The small tears that roll down your face feel like heaven. Because it's a feeling. Anything other than the blind dread that had woken you, locked you inside with racing thoughts too big, too scary, to have in the dark.

You can finally focus in on the view outside the pod, the foliage hanging above you and the stars beyond it. There is something different about seeing them from a planet or moon, wholly different than being out among them on a ship.

A subtle shift in angle, but not of sight. A shift in being. Being so fucking small.

"Hummingbird, can you look at me?" Ezra sounds worried, teetering on the edge of something akin to panic.

His hand slides up from your back to the stiffness of your neck, cradling the base of your skull and stroking away the tenseness he finds there.

The hum you make sounds broken, mixed with a sob hidden deep somewhere inside your lungs, and you pray to kevva he understands you.

Help. Help me, I can't crawl out of my own head. Please help.

Slowly, he manages to bring your gaze down to his, his grasp on your neck pulling you out of the ether and back into your body. You've stopped swaying. The ache in your muscles is deep, like you've swam against a strong tide.

"There you are" Ezra whispers, the quietest you think you've ever heard him, as he leans his forehead against yours.

His eyes are as deep as the space that you traveled to get to this place, where it is you can't honestly recall right now. But they aren't empty, not an abyss of fear that plagues you in moments of weakness, when you feel your mortality like a monster stalking you.

Ezra's eyes are rich with worry as you simply stare back at him, finding purchase in them, ground you can cling to. You know he finds his place in words and that he's just spent kevva knows how long wrapped up in silence, utterly shut out from you.

"I understand that look, Hummingbird, and I will not for one moment have you entertaining the absurd idea that I need an apology" he says, nose nudging yours and settling you with a look that brokers no counter offer.

"Okay" the word slips out, your voice watery and shaking.

"As for an explanation, I would at some point hope to be privy to one, but only when you feel willing and able to share. Is that alright?"

"Yeah, I just-" a few more tears escape you and you try to blink them away "I feel so small, weak, sometimes and it swallows me and I can't climb out. I get stuck."

You can feel Ezra nod, foreheads still pressed together, as he offers you a small smile, dark brown eyes warm as sun drenched soil,  freshly turned.

"I know you are not inclined to believe things like this so easily Hummingbird but you are the furthest thing from weak and please, understand when I impart to you that I will always be here to pull you from wherever you find yourself trapped, I mean it wholeheartedly."

Nodding, you give a smile that wavers only faintly, eyes closing when Ezra pulls away only to bring his lips to your forehead, pressing a kiss there before ducking down to place another on your lips.

It makes you feel as tall as some of the giant trees you've stumbled upon in the Green, reaching up to the sky, growing against the press of the universe, climbing up and reaching out to the dark. Unafraid.

Your hands have long since gone slack in their hold of the blanket, so you pull your arms free to let it fall at your feet. Slow and shaky, your hands reach up and cradle his face when you break the kiss.

"Thank you Ezra, for listening" you lean into him, thumb stroking the thin silvery scar on his cheek.

"With you, my Hummingbird, I am always listening“ he leans into your touch, pulling you closer, intent on never letting you fall again.