#considered drawing them fighting... but instead I choose peace.

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

The Husty Brothers ( Gira and Racules ) plz :3

"The cloak suits him."

[wordsofwilderness]

In light of recent events I thought it would be a good idea to make a post with a list of specific things you can do to make a difference, some for your own personal peace of mind and safety, some to fight on. Even if you are not from the US, please read on, many of these are applicable for everyone, the rise of the far right is not a unique problem to the US, and may of these precautions can end up helping in a lot of other situations too.

I've choose to ordered these roughly with the easiest first:

Personal archive

Download your favourite political literature, fics, books ect. You can get a thumb drive for pretty cheap at any tech store and most bigger supermarkets too if you don't already have one. For the tech savvy you can also download the entirely of Wikipedia (guide here).

Emergency money in cash

If you don't already have any emergency savings it's time to get some. Keep some of it in cash in a safe but accessible place. This can also be extremely useful in case of blackouts or natural disasters were the electricity network is likely to breakdown and cards therefor won't work.

Stop using period tracking apps

Switch it out with pan and paper, or a list of dates in your notes app, literally anything else. Even if the owners swear to protect your data and you are essentially blindly trusting your safety in not only their morals but also their security being better than anyone's hacking abilities (including the US government). Even if you for whatever reason isn't personally in a situation where a pregnancy has any chance of happening or would be any kind of problem, know that your data will be used to compare against those not as fortunate.

Keep a few days of food and other essentials on hand

This one might sound a lot more daunting than it is. Keep an extra bag of pasta or rice and a few cans of bean. I can also recommend a big bag of nuts if your not allergic, or an extra bag of flour and a few packs of dry yeast if you bake. Get into the habit of buying new stable items when you open something instead of when you run out. The important thing here is that these are all stable foods that you still occasionally use in day to day life so you can slowly cycle through and replace them so it never goes bad.

Get a passport

If you are from the US, please consider prioritising this one. Currently you can chose which gender marker you want yourself and it doesn't need to match any other ID you have (source), and who knows if you'll be able to under the next administration.

Join a union

Voting is to democracy what washing your hands is to personal hygiene. If you only wash your hands, all your teeth will fall out.

But jokes aside, lately I've encountered a lot of talk about the inherent conflict of interest between the democratic parties' donors and the working class needs. People seem to generally draw the conclusion that this mean there will never be a true left wing party in the US since money is needed to put forth any significant campaign. I live in Northern Europe and here it pretty common for any left leaning parties to get a decent part of their donations from unions.

If you need any proof for the potential for this can be, then look no further than the amount of small donation during the start of Kamala Harris' campaign, or even any of the two campaigns Bernie Sanders ran in 2016 and 2020.

There are of course also many other benefits of joining a union that very much makes it worth it on it's own such as: higher pay, job security, more vacation time and so much more.

Please feel free to reblog and add more, expand on anything, or add any resource!!

[couldntbedamned]

Couldntbedamned's Master List

This is my Master List of fics I’ve written.  I’m linking them to my AO3 account.

Please be sure to carefully read all the tags and warnings posted for a fic – YOU are responsible for the content you choose you consume.

Updated as of 25 April 2024

Reader Fics

Right Now, Take Me Down (I Let You In) Tony Stark/Female Reader – Mature, Complete

Tony snoops through your phone and discovers some uh, fantasies and desires you’ve been keeping hidden. He takes it upon himself to make those fantasies and desires a reality, thanks to his amazing nanotechnology and trusted AI.  (A/B/O Roleplay)

Til the Veins Start to Shiver Bruce Banner/Female Reader – Mature, Complete

You decide to tease Bruce with some provocative photos while he's working. Bruce decides to tease you right back, and then some.  (Light Dom/Sub)

A Little Evening Break Stephen Strange/Female Reader – Mature, Complete

The Reader isn’t quick to comply with Stephen’s instructions and he gives her a hard time.

There’s Only Butterflies (Take Me Away) Stephen Strange/Reader, Strange Supreme/Reader, Defender Strange/Reader, Supreme Strange/Reader, Sinister Strange/Reader – Mature, Complete

It’s a pocket-dimension full of sunshine, with love that’s all theirs.

A Sweet Escape (To Better Days) Stephen Strange/Reader, Strange Supreme/Reader, Defender Strange/Reader, Supreme Strange/Reader, Sinister Strange/Reader – Mature, Complete

While it at first it weighed heavily on her, the knowledge that five of the most powerful beings in the multiverse were with her instead of protecting all of reality, she couldn’t deny the thrill that also came with that. The universe truly revolved around her. Her loves revolved around her and everything she was, she had, she did was for them in return.

Sometimes It Hurts Instead

Stephen/Reader (unrequited), Stephen/Clea, Reader/Reader's Husband - Teen, Complete

You see that the man you'd once had feelings for has moved on. You're not sure how to feel.

Waiting for the sun to be rising

Stephen/Chronically Ill!Reader - Mature, Complete

After a wild romp, you relax with Stephen and contemplate your relationship, reassuring him that regardless of what he does (or doesn’t) say you know exactly how he feels about you.

With a little peace and some harmony

Stephen/Chronically Ill!Reader - Teen, Complete

You’re sick and thanks to a weakened immune system, having a hard time resting and fighting it off. It’s absolutely miserable but lucky for you, Stephen is more than willing to step into the role of caretaker and help you feel better.

 Starker Fics (Tony Stark/Peter Parker)

Please note that Peter is an adult in all of these.

This is What You Came For Mature, Complete

Mr. Stark has had enough of what he considers to be Peter's not-so-subtle hints that he wants to get f*cked. He decides to teach Peter a lesson.

An Absolutely Peerless Cure Dark!Tony – Mature, Complete

When Peter gets the hiccups while on patrol, Tony takes it upon himself to help rid him of the pesky problem. Sure, that Wikipedia article could be absolute horseshit, and sure, Dr. Strange had been tipsy when he agreed with it, but it's a risk Tony's willing to take in his quest to draw Peter closer to him.

…And Many More Mature, Complete

Tony has a surprise for Peter's birthday, putting a true Tony Stark spin on a long-standing wish that Peter's had. Because whether he's giving or receiving, Tony is always in charge. Not that Peter's complaining.

(Just to See How It Feels) Mature, Complete

It's late. Peter's tired and wants to sleep because he has a big exam in the morning. Tony's horny. So maybe he can convince Peter to let him put in just the tip. (It's never just the tip.)

Getting the Best Mature, Complete

Peter Benjamin Parker is a genius. A once-in-a-lifetime type of genius.

And the little prick has the nerve to be undecided, even with the promise of a full-ride to MIT.

Even Saints Into Savages Mature, Complete

The mission was supposed to be a cake walk. Get in, get the stupid mystic alien amulet, get home. So, they figured it was safe enough to bring Peter along. Only Rocket assumes something, and that assumption leads to an awkward situation for everyone involved. Tony'll do whatever it takes to save Peter. If only he didn't know that he'd enjoy it so damn much. (Aliens Made Them Do It)

Back to Where You’ve Never Been Mature, Work in Progress

In an alternate reality, Peter Parker is living out his dream of being Spider-Man and working as an intern for Stark Industries (and the Avengers!) under his hero, Tony Stark, before heading off to college.  For the most part, it's incredible.  Okay, the Avengers treat him like he's still a child, and Mr. Stark's not exactly the friendliest mentor. But still, it's good.

Except that recently, Mr. Stark's been in the worst mood and Peter finds himself the unwitting focus of the man's ire.  He tries to keep his spirits up and tell himself that it's not personal, that anyone in the lab would be a target, but when Mr. Stark kicks him out, Peter knows he's done.

Then he finds himself falling for what feels like an eternity before returning to New York.  Only it's not his New York City and the Iron Man he ends up fighting alongside is definitely not his Iron Man.  Anthony Stark is kind of perfect.  The Other Avengers are kind of perfect.  Everyone here seems to love him.  And when he and Anthony are tapped by Dr. Strange to help seal the rift between realities, Peter finds himself wondering if he was supposed to be in the reality with Anthony all along.  (AU of an AU)

Updated with Chapter 14 on 02 January 2024

SpiderStrange Fics (Peter Parker/Stephen Strange)

Please note that Peter is an adult in all of these.

One in Fourteen Million, Six Hundred and Five Dark-ish!Stephen – Mature, Complete

Stephen doesn't have time to admire Peter as much as he'd like, given that they're trying to stop total Armageddon. This is the fate of the universe at stake; his attraction doesn't really have a place here. But even still...

("Oh, we're using our made-up names? Ok, I'm Spider-Man.")

Something about this stupidly brave and chatty guy intrigues him.

Now That I’ve Found You (I Won’t Let You Go) Dark!Stephen – Mature, Complete

All Stephen wants is for Peter Parker to be happy and safe... with him. When Peter rejects Stephen? Stephen doesn't take it very well. He'll just have to ensure that Peter realizes that Stephen is his future.

Only Of What’s Mine Mature, Complete

Peter wasn't expecting to find an Alpha so soon after turning 18. After all, many Omegas don't bond with an Alpha at all until they're in their mid-20s at least. But after everything on Titan and the Snap and then the Blip and Mr. Stark nearly killing himself to destroy Thanos once and for all, Stephen had taken an interest in Peter. And Peter, god help him, was just as taken with the Alpha. (A/B/O AU)

The (It’s Not Sex Pollen!) Powder of Prana Mature, Complete

Stephen warns Peter to be careful while exploring the Sanctum. Peter, naturally, doesn't listen. The Powder of Prana goes flying. And now Stephen finds himself the only person Peter trusts to keep him from dying. With sex. (Sex Pollen AU)

Private Practice Mature, Complete

Peter Parker's appointment with Dr. Strange doesn't go as he'd planned when the good doctor prescribes a certain medical procedure. (Medical Kink/Medical Play)

Yours to Break (But Always Mend) Mature, Complete

Peter’s tears had long since stopped, replaced by weak, hitched sobs sometime after what might have been the sixth or seventh blow. He couldn’t remember why snapping back at Stephen like a brat had seemed like a good idea. He couldn’t remember why breaking the rules in the first place - starting all of this - had seemed like a good idea. (Dom/Sub)

I Know the Storms Will Always Come (But I Still Love to Have You Around) Mature, WIP

After Endgame, Stephen returns from another dimension to find Peter's life threatened by Quentin Beck's schemes. He undoes the damage and takes a struggling Peter into his care.

Peter needs time and a safe place to rebuild himself; Stephen's happy to provide that, even as he works to push aside the feelings he has. It's a tricky line to walk, setting boundaries and structure for Peter while imagining those same things in a very different context.

As Peter begins to come back to his usual self, personalities and wills clash, occasionally helped along by a certain Witch and a perpetually amused and exasperated Librarian. And Stephen finds that he can't plan for everything.

These Inconvenient Fireworks Mature, WIP

After a battle, Mr. Stark crosses a line with Peter. Peter, tired of being on the receiving end of Mr. Stark's anger, asks Stephen - who's witnessed everything - to take him away. In doing so, Stephen starts down a path with Peter he didn't see coming.

Alternatively: Peter's heart gets broken and Stephen helps put it back together.

Updated 23 Sep 2023

It’s All Routine Mature, Complete

Peter Parker is back at Dr. Strange's office for a physical required by his upcoming internship. He's hoping it will be quick and easy, but when Dr. Strange finds out that he hasn't had a physical since he was a young child, his hopes are dashed. Dr. Strange intends to be very thorough. (Medical Kink/Medical Play)

You Kiss Your Sorcerer With That Mouth? Mature, Complete

During a mission, Spider-Man lets some choice words for Dr. Doom slip. Stephen's less than pleased at Peter's disregard for how he's supposed to conduct himself as Spider-Man when he's in the public eye. He gives Peter some time to think about what he's done, and has a creative way to ensure Peter thinks twice before doing it again. (Domestic Discipline)

Help Me Up, Let’s Keep On Running Mature, Complete

Peter and Stephen have several rules set up in their dynamic. The two biggest? That Peter will look after his health and well-being, and that they will always be honest with each other.  

Peter manages to break both of them in one fell swoop, and Stephen is none too pleased.

Discussions are had, actions lead to consequences, and Peter emerges from the experience secure in the knowledge that Stephen will do whatever it takes to make sure he's cared for and loved. (Domestic Discipline)

I Can See The Man That I Fell For Fighting Mature, Complete

It was supposed to be a quick in and out job. Just into the study to grab his book he’d left in there by accident the night before, and then out before Stephen even knew he was up and about. Harmless.

It wasn’t his fault that Cloak decided it needed to follow him around like some overly nosy puppy. Or that Cloak decided it needed to join him in the study as he looked for his book. Or that Cloak had decided to apparently “guard” something in the study in way that just screamed suspicious and naturally piqued Peter’s curiosity.

In and out, no harm done.

But when it became clear that Peter was overstaying his welcome in the space, Cloak had also felt the need to snitch.

He’d really, really fucked up. (Domestic Discipline)

This Back's Not Going to Break So Easily - Part 1 of 2, This Back’s Not Going to Break So Easily - Part 2 of 2

Mature, Complete

When Peter comes to Stephen upset and insisting he needs to be punished, Stephen knows something's wrong. Given a chance to calm down and feel safe, Peter explains what happened while he was at the Tower working in the labs and interrupted by Harley. Stephen reassures Peter that he did nothing wrong and does his best to comfort him.

Also featured: Stephen confronting Tony and Harley like a boss, Peter and Stephen's love, trust, and mutual respect for each other, lots of fluffy/dirty teasing, and pizza. (Domestic Discipline)

And I Let the Knots of Time Come Undone Mature, Complete

After breaking one of their established rules, Stephen finds himself at Peter's service for the day. Tasked with his least favorite chores, Stephen tries to maintain his sanity and make it through, all while reluctantly admitting to himself that all things considered, he's getting off easy.

If only he could get rid of that damn bell... (Domestic Discipline)

Our Road Gets Better With Every Bend Mature, Complete

Peter's getting ready for his junior year at Columbia. But before he goes back to school, there's the matter of his 21st birthday to deal with. Which is inevitably going to affect The Rules he and Stephen have. And what should be a nice night out for Peter's birthday takes a bit of a detour when a former acquaintance from Peter's freshman year unexpectedly runs into the happy couple.

Stephen's not jealous. No, not one bit. (Domestic Discipline)

Maybe If I Hold You Close, Baby We Could Just Let Go Teen, Complete

While the idea of accompanying Stephen to the high-brow fundraisers and charity galas seemed glamorous at first, Peter found the reality turned out to be much more disappointing. Everyone looks down their nose at him; people are forever swarming Stephen and flirting with him; and Peter usually finds himself alone, bored, counting the time until they can leave. However, he keeps attending in the hopes that he'll finally get a chance to dance with Stephen like he'd imagined.

One night he gets to dance with a surprising friend, which may finally lead to a bit of happiness at the damned events going forward.

Or Stephen might take issue, if another friend doesn’t take it upon herself to give him a clue. (Domestic Discipline)

I'm Counting On A New Beginning, A Reason For Living Mature, Complete

Peter's been in a bad mood and his recent stretch of bad luck isn't helping matters. Stephen hasn't been able to get through to him, and even when Peter takes his punishments for acting out, something's off. Worried about his partner, Stephen tries to think of what it is he might have done wrong. Upset, Peter pulls away.

It takes a bad set of prototype arrows, saving someone's life, a friend snitching, a stern Dr. Palmer taking control of a situation, a very un-teamlike spying session, and an uncomfortable discussion or two before Stephen and Peter are back on the same page. (Domestic Discipline)

Man, What Are You Doing Here? Mature, Complete

He only had one final left to take... and then he was done with everything until the fall semester of his final year as an undergraduate. Since his final wasn’t until Thursday afternoon, he didn’t see the harm in going out with some friends to celebrate and cute loose on Tuesday evening.

Would he have chosen a bar? No. He wasn’t supposed to drink on school nights and honestly, he preferred going to the movies or a show. But he was in college and honestly, it wasn’t like it needed to be a big deal.

And it wasn’t like Stephen needed to know. (Domestic Discipline)

Cold Comes From the East Side (Ch. 1)(Ch. 2)(Ch. 3) Mature, WIP

Peter breaks one of the rules in a spectacular way and suffers the consequences. It's rare for Stephen to actually be angry with him, but given the circumstances, Peter supposes the anger is more than earned. It's a hell of a situation for the pair of them and Peter wonders if they'll actually make it through. (Domestic Discipline)

Published Chapter 3 on 14 August 2023

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue Mature, WIP

In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, Peter Parker has few options left after he's swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he's running out of time before he's out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a "lack of personal fulfillment and settling down," he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man's profile suggests intelligence and compatibility. It's not ideal, but if after a year it's not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It's a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It's either going to be forever or it's going to go down in flames. (Domestic Discipline, 1950s-Modern Fusion AU)

Updated with Chapter 34 on 25 April 2024

Nevertheless, Recover Mature, Complete

Peter finds himself once again in Dr. Strange's office, hoping to find a reason and a cure for his latest ailment.  He's come to the right place, since Dr. Strange will do everything it takes to diagnose and treat Peter. Hopefully, Peter will survive the embarrassment. (Medical Kink/Medical Play)

Doctor 13 Fics (Christine Palmer/Sharon Carter)

Baby, You Don't Gotta Fight Mature, WIP

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7

Dr. Christine Palmer is just living her life, content in her job as a trauma surgeon and happily moonlighting as Peter Parker's general physician at her old friend Stephen's request.

One evening as she finishes up examining Peter, she encounters the force of nature that's Sharon Carter, who seems to have a reckless streak a mile wide.

She's not sure what to make of the spy-turned-Avenger, but she can tell Sharon's hurting, and Christine's healing nature won't be ignored.

Iron 13 Fics (Tony Stark/Sharon Carter)

Feels So Right, Can’t be Wrong Teen, WIP

Prologue | Yellow Tulip | Blue Salvia | Yellow Narcissus | Red Morning Glory

The setting: Sanctum General Hospital in Sanctum Heights, New Amsterdam

Starring: Sharon Carter - former Central Security Bureau operative, Selecting Spouse in a horrifically failed Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections marriage, patient AND Anthony Edward "Tony" Stark - owner and CEO of Stark Industries, Futurist determined to rebuild a world his father built weapons to destroy, love interest

With Appearances by:  Nurse Wong, Orderly Rintrah, and Billy the Admin

And Featuring Doctor Stephen Strange as "the Surgeon"

Or, "Five Dates Tony and Sharon Had in Her Hospital Room and One They Had After She Was Discharged"

Updated 23 November 2023

The Phoenix Protocol Mature, WIP

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

No one else but Tony thought anything was off about Sharon. Investigating on his own, he discovered and brought down her Skrull impersonator and when he found the real Sharon near death, he made a choice that would change both of their lives.

MISC

This is What I Brought You, This You Can Keep

Stephen Strange/Clea Strange/Peter Parker - Mature, Complete

...who is he to deny the woman he loves - the woman who has seen into his soul with all its trials, agony, and dreams and loves him because of it! - who is he to deny her anything she desires?

If you feel so moved, feel free to buy me a cup of coffee! Couldntbedamned's Ko-Fi

[micechicken]

Hii! I have some OC asks. Let me know if this is too many. Have a nice day/night! :]

Seven Candles: What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Mary Ary: What memory would your OC rather just forget?

Bea Berg: How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Flick: What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Seven is a Pathfinder OC so naturally she has an arsenal. She's a Rouge with the Mind Smith archetype which means she can summon a weapon with her mind through concentration. She earned this ability during her study at the Magaambya and almost always uses it. I have yet to draw it but it's a knife of a purple hue with a watery texture to is. It also has the ability to add salt to a wound as she enchanted it with ruins that took the ability of her old weapon, a cutlass she stole from a pirate. This ability is more for flair as it doesn't' really cause damage. She also carries a short bow (with arrows, some of which are poisonous), a dagger, and her claws. Also as a stealth fighter you rarely see her coming but it will HURT (thanks to the bonuses that rouges have due to her acrobatic abilities and stealth).

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

Mary is rather young so that's not a lot she's experienced. But she comes from a very large family of enchanted mice whom she's strayed from after joining the main cast. They often butted heads with her due to her adventurous nature and desire to go to the people. Her parents often reprimanded her for "seeking danger" and her siblings often find her weird or foolish. Often times she wishes to go back to them but more often is happy she found her own family who appreciates her for who she is. As the youngest of the cast (Sparky and Tiger are considered young adults as they are cats/Inkets, Mary is technically human) she struggles a lot with the difficulties that the group faces as the story goes and finds some of it rather traumatic but struggles to go to others for comfort due to her family. In other words, probably the treatment her family gave her.

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Bea is rather docile compared to the rest of the cast. He has a tendency to freeze up when encountering opposition or using his words to get out. Especially at the story of when we first meeting him he's rather directionless other than caring for Mushi. Often he chooses the most peaceful option in any situation to the point he starts to be come a peace keeper for many alien species. This is a huge contrast to Chez/Charlie who is more aggressive and a fighter, often using violence or killing to get what he wants. It's not that Bea doesn't learn how to fight when peace isn't an option but it's usually the others that handle that. Over time he learns to be more demanding with what he wants, any previous instance of this is rare or an act he puts on. Even during the story his goal is mostly peacekeeping and just doing what others want from him in order to get things over with.

What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

There's two main ones I can think of.

The first is to never come across Nick or to let him go when he escapes. In both variations she would stay home with her family and never learn of magic or the truth of her home. She'd still struggle with interactions with others and feel like an outcast due to bullying, but she'd be there for her mom as she deals with cancer. It's also questionable how wizards and faie will fair especially if Nick doesn't grow as a person because of Flick.

The second would to end up on Huxley's side, either through believing him or by coming across him before others. She'd instead learn magic through him and not Nick and would definitely still want to learn magic in order to help her mom get better. If things went Huxley's way Faie would go extinct, but if she felt guilt she would probably change sides. Nick would also almost immediately by captured by Huxley in this scenario as he'd be found with Flick.

[themainspoon]

Just saw some tankie make a post about how people shouldn't support the Uyghurs, because they sometimes use acts that could be considered "terrorism" to fight for their freedom (I will not mention who this individual was, nor include a screenshot of the post or quote it. To be blunt, picking out some randoms comment and pointing at them to say "look! This person is stupid! Therefore my arguments against the things they belive are valid!" can only result in opening somebody up to harrassment, and frankly I think doing something like that is below me). Now like, do I point out the double standard here or do I just leave it?

Many of these people have been on the front likes defending others using violence to fight for their freedom, and that is good. Unfortunately, when peaceful solutions are denied the only options are violence or subjugation. But the fact that their support stops the moment the resistance is against their ideologial interests is telling.

I understand how one could become a cheerleader for a nation-state that they have been repeatedly told is evil and trying to destroy the system in which they live, especially after realising the truth about how opressive and often genocidal the system they live within is. But the issue with being a cheerleader is that your support must be unconditional. Critique becomes libel, rebellion becomes terrorism.

Now, I am not condoning any acts of violence, but I also believe that I should not condemn them either. The ability I have to debate the morality of these violent acts is one that is in itself a result of privilege, those who are carrying out these acts are doing so for a reason. My ability to either cheerlead and celebrate this violence, or to strongly condemn it, both result from the fact that I do not have to live within the contexts that led to those acts in the first place. Resistance is almost always horrific, violent, and filled with great tragedy, but it is also often the only option those who carry it out have. We must support the movement for the freedom of the opressed, always, and with the understanding that the violence carried out by those who are opressed is a terrible result of that very same opression.

So, to return to my focus here, to support other groups who use violence but draw the line at this group specifically shows a failure to actually support liberation, instead choosing only to support that which is Ideologically convenient. Bluntly, I think this is cowardice, it shows not any structure of belief based on values, but one concerned with holding onto an idea of salvation from one's own terrible status quo, an idea of an evil force and the heroic good that must triumph over it for everything to be ok. It's a vied I can sympathise with, but not one I feel I could ever support. The prisons and police of the nation-state you require yourself to view as a utopia serve the same functions as ours do, even if their most inhumane practices are often reflected and mirrored in the practices of our own states (or even if they originate from them) that does not excuse those practices.

I do not know what the perfect future looks like, I do not know how we should or could reach it, but what I do know is that we won't get there by picking sides in battles between global superpowers. It will require standing with the opressed and marginalised, and if you can't do that because doing so in any instance would mean acknowledging that your chosen "team" isn't perfect and is in fact capeable of the very opression you claim to oppose, than I think it may be time to reconsider some of your beliefs.

[kawaiidarknessprincess]

How to escape the matrix and this advice is for myself as well. I haven't escaped the matrix yet. Note I didn't write this article

Escaping the Matrix Ways to Deprogram Yourself

BY SOFO ARCHON

now to deprogram yourself and escape the matrix you’ve been trapped in since the very day you were born:

1. Break the shackles of dogmatic religion

Dogmatic, organized religion imposes on people what to think and what not to, what is good and what is bad, what is right and what is wrong.

Thus, dogmatic religion prevents people from living spontaneously, listening to their heart, seeking the truth and drawing their own conclusions based on critical thinking and experiential understanding. In addition, it divides people into opposing ideological groups and has them fight against each other in the name of God or Truth.

The result? Tremendous emotional suppression, conflict and pain.

To reclaim your freedom, express your authenticity and walk on the path of peace, joy and wisdom, break the chains of dogmatic religion by questioning it and starting your quest for the truth from scratch.

Stop giving your power away to external authority

As children, most of us were taught to doubt ourselves and do only what external authority commands us to. Now, as adults, we don’t trust ourselves anymore, and let others take responsibility for our lives.

For example, we support corrupted politicians who do nothing but lie to us in order to satisfy their hunger for power, being under the illusion that we’re choosing a brighter future for ourselves, when in reality the options we’re given in our pseudodemocratic system are extremely limited and in essence very much alike.

If you want to create true positive change in the world, stop obeying authority figures or waiting for someone to save you, and start taking responsibility in your own hands. In addition, consider joining a community of like-minded individuals and work together to help build a better political system that serves all people, not just the 1%.

Question the dominant economic system

In our global economic system, money is created out of debt, for it’s essentially loaned into existence by banks with interest attached to it. What that means is that there’s always more debt than money in the economy, which has people competing in the market for never enough, and results in economic inequality and social conflict.

In addition, our economic system is based on consumption, since people have to always buy and sell stuff in order for money to keep on circulating in the economy, and hence for people to remain employed. This not only requires the overextraction of natural resources, but also the production of insane amounts of toxic waste that is killing the very planet we depend on and share with countless other beings.

If you agree that our economic system is obsolete and inherently destructive, and would like to help change it from its very foundations, consider doing research on the negative impacts of our global economy, as well as educating yourself on alternative, socially-just and environmentally-sustainable economic systems.

Detach yourself from consumerism

Being brought up in a consumer culture, most of us have been conditioned to believe that money can buy everything we need, including happiness. As a result, we buy products and services without end, yet we always end up feeling dissatisfied and hungry for more of them.

The truth is that shopping can only provide us with temporary, superficial substitutes of what we truly need. And what we need is neither products nor services, but heart-opening experiences such as intimacy with other people and connection with the natural world.

Once you come upon this realization, you’ll stop being concerned about which is the next best thing you can buy, and instead start investing your time and energy on things that actually matter to your well-being.

Beware of the media

Knowledge is power, yet we are drowning in an ocean of information.

Corporate media often presents us with carefully-crafted, misleading information in order to manipulate how we think and behave. Sadly, most people rarely realize that, and end up becoming a cog in the wheel of a propaganda machine that’s filling their minds with lies and half-truths.

Truth seekers don’t accept anything on faith alone. Instead, they try to find evidence to support the information they’re presented with — and if there’s none, they don’t hold that information as true or valid. In addition, they do their best to develop a spherical understanding of any topic at hand by looking into as many different sources of information as they can.

If you don’t like being deceived, mislead and controlled, and sincerely want to better understand what’s going on in the world, be sure to expose yourself to plenty of information sources, and use critical thinking in order to draw your own conclusions. Seeking the truth is an arduous path, but in the end it’s totally worth it.

Read eye-opening books

Most people have associated books with school, and because of that they have developed a distaste or even hate for reading.

But here is an important truth they tend to ignore:

There have been plenty of wise individuals who’ve written books, in which they share their thoughts on life’s problems and how to effectively deal with them. Many of them criticize the workings of society and offer profound insights on how we could help create a more beautiful world.

Therefore, books can be immensely helpful in opening our eyes and improving the quality of our lives. But the vast majority of people spend little to none of their time reading thought-provoking books — hence, they can’t reap the amazing benefits those have to offer.

To get the most out of reading, don’t just pick any book and read it. Rather, read books that are challenging your opinions and beliefs, as well as provide you with new perspectives on life that enable you to better understand yourself and the world. And, beware of “speed reading” that so many “influencers” and self-help coaches mindlessly promote, for if not practiced selectively, it can absolutely ruin your reading — and hence learning — experience. (Watch the video below for more on that.)

conditioned us to feel.

It’s important to note, however, that some people are negatively affected by practicing meditation. This often seems to be related to underlying emotional trauma. So, if you think you could be one of them, perhaps it would be better if you first addressed any serious psychological issues you might be suffering from through some form of therapy.

***

You’ve just made it to the end of this long article, which is a clear sign that you’re serious enough in your endeavor to understand the nature of the Matrix and find out how to escape it. So, from the depths of my heart, I wish you all the best in that hard yet immensely rewarding journey.

“The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. But when you’re inside, you look around, what do you see? Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system […] You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it.” ~Morpheus, The Matrixing

[aspoonofsugar]

Any meta's about Ekko? I know his role is small all things considered, but it was impactful for short, and he's my favourite character of them all.

Hello!

Sorry for the long wait! Anyway, I love Ekko as well and I hope we’ll see more of him in the future. As for now, I think that he has been set up to have two major foils in the story.

THE CROW AND THE FIREFLY

As I am sure other people have underlined in a better way than what I am about to do... Ekko and Jinx are foils. To be more specific they are two children of Zaun that grow up to embody the two sides of the city.

The Zaun that is stuck in past grudges and wants to destroy. The Zaun that wants to move on towards the future.

They are both broken cities, but their reaction to their wounds is different.

The tragic irony of all of this is that Ekko and Jinx started their stories in very similar positions. They were the baby of the bunch, looked up to Vi:

Were gifted at building things, especially survellaince mechanisms:

And they are really the two characters that without knowing start the whole plot. On one hand Ekko is the one that sets the heist in motion. On the other hand Jinx is the one that has it escalate.

As a consequence they both lose their families and are left alone to deal with their grief. And yet, their outcomes could not be more different. Why is that so? Well, it may be something as simple as this:

Ekko: If I just went with you that day, maybe none of this would have happened.

Vi: Or maybe you’d be dead. Or... changed.

If Ekko had gone with them he could have died or could have ended up “adopted” like Jinx. It is impossible to say for certain.Still, he would probably be a completely different person.

So, we have two hurt kids turning into a raven and a fireflight:

Why these two animals? Well, first of all they are two animals linked to death. Ravens are known to eat corpses and they are said to bring bad luck.

The fireflights of the series are shown drinking blood in order to shine. What is more, I think fireflights in general can be linked to wisps and ghosts.

So, they are two animals that metaphorically eat death. However, ravens only give back luck in exchange, while fireflies offer light and hope.

This fits both Jinx and Ekko whose stories are about dealing with grief in opposite ways:

Being stuck in the past.

Moving on into the future.

This difference is shown also in their respective works of art. Jinx draws frightening graffitis that become a symbol of danger and dread as the story goes on. Ekko instead makes art to heal himself and others. His drawings are used to convey hope and wonder.

It is because they are both the same and opposite that the second part of the series focuses on their rivalry.

Specifically, in the second act of the story, they keep going into each other way. If one of them has a goal or makes a decision, you can be sure the other will go in the way or will make the opposite choice.

So, we have Jinx stealing the crystal and Ekko choosing to give it back. Jinx is unable to overcome her paranoid distrusts towards Vi and Caitlyn, while Ekko overcomes his trust issues and helps them. Ekko takes Vi away from Jinx, while Jinx uses Ekko as a scapegoat for her crimes.

This escalates until the scene on the bridge where Jinx takes Piltover golden butterflies and Zaun’s fireflights and turns them into a bomb symbolically going in the way of an attempt of peace:

Ekko’s reaction is to take her on and to directly fight her. The result of their fight is that Ekko, who tries to move on so desperately finds himself still linked to the past... and that Jinx hurts herself once again and makes another step into a dark future.

So, as you can see, these two wonder children are linked in opposite ways to the future of Zaun. They are two sides of the same coins and we will probably see more of them in the future. To be more specific, I think that they are kind of counterparts to Jayce and Viktor when it comes to the theme of technology and progress. We have already seen Jinx’s talent with technology and we have been hinted Ekko is the same:

Heimerdinger: Oh, ingenious. Though these blades seem improperly pitched.

Ekko: You’re wrong. It’s designed for the fissures. The air is denser.

And we are bound to see more, especially considering the other character Ekko has been set up to foil.

GIVE IT TIME

The meeting between Heimerdinger and Ekko is interesting and clearly set up a future foiling of the two characters. In particular, it is clear that they are bound to push each other forward in their respective development.

They meet each other when they have both become outsiders. On one hand Heimerdinger has been forced to retire. On the other hand Ekko is persecuted by Silco who controls Zaun. Despite this, they are still trying to do the right thing for both cities, but so far their attempts have been overlooked.

It is in this scenario that the two meets and it is clear that Heimerdinger has just found a new promising student. The question is if he will learn from his past mistakes and will be able not to lose this one too.

At least, Ekko seems to have been born specifically to challenge Heimerdinger’s major flaw:

Heimerdinger: Astonishing. You say all this came about in yout own brief lifespan? How were you able to accomplish so much so quickly?

The reason why he estranged himself from his previous students is his inability to understand how time is precious for humans who have way shorter lives than him.

However, Ekko is a character that values time greatly and always tries to make the best he can of every instant and in this way, he shows Heimerdinger that keeping people alive is not sufficient to help. What people need is something that inspires them to live to the fullest:

Ekko: It’s not enough to give people what they need to survive, you have to give them what they need to live.

These are my major thoughts on Ekko as for now. I think that in the future we will see more of his foiling with Jinx and Heimerdinger. In a sense, it is possible that Ekko and Jinx will become when it comes to the theme of technology foils to both Viktor and Jayce. Anyway, it is really too soon to say!

Thank you for the ask!

[monocaelia]

comforting you after a nightmare headcanons

nightmares aren't fun, but luckily you have someone there to protect you.

feat. albedo, diluc, childe, kaeya, xiao, zhongli

genre : hurt/comfort, fluff

note : hbd to me!! here's a gift from me to you with one of my favorite tropes, hehe <:

❀ albedo

albedo isn't one to dream much, let alone rest. he's always caught up in his own research and experiments that sleep isn't really needed if he wanted to be more productive in his research, despite the worried comments from sucrose and your lighthearted nags that he'll stay short forever.

though, that isn't to say that he's not interested. there are many times that albedo has caught you dozing off in his laboratory while waiting for him to be done with his experiments. he would be lying to himself if he didn't wonder what could possibly be playing in your mind to make you be smiling like that while unconscious.

this time, though, is an exception.

test tubes and flasks filled with various liquids and concoctions fill albedo's workspace as he examines each and every one before filling in his notebooks with descriptions and drawings of his work. there's a shuffle from his other desk and his eyes shift up to glance at you. albedo's gaze softens at the sight of his coat draped over your shoulders as they move to the rhythm of your breathing.

he wonders why you choose to stay at his laboratory so late and wait for him to finish his research rather than head home alone and sleep in your much more comfortable bed. albedo supposes you find comfort in his presence, an odd thing to be comforted by really.

however, the gentle smile quickly falls from his face the moment he hears the quiet whimpers and pleas. as quickly as he could, albedo moves to your side and gently shakes you awake. he isn't the least surprised when your eyes snap open and a gasp leaves your lips.

"...are you alright?" the question breaks you from your daze and you seem to relax when you realize you aren't dreaming anymore. though, the way your hands and shoulders shake doesn't escape the sharp eyes observing you.

"come on, i think i'm done with my research for now. we can head home if you'd like?" albedo smiles when you nod your head, but as he turns to pack up and prepare to leave his laboratory your hand shoots out to grasp his own.

albedo is surprised at first, but the shock melts into endearment as his hand pulls yours up to his lips. he presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles, reassuring you that he'll be right there for you. that you wouldn't be alone.

"nightmares, huh? ...i wonder if i can concoct something to help eradicate the chances of them appearing. oh, don't worry, i won't leave your side for the rest of the evening. promise."

❀ diluc

diluc isn't prone to nightmares, honestly he probably gets them quite often. or maybe even dreamless dreams if he's lucky. well, considering he sleeps at all. he's busy being the darknight hero of mondstatdt in the dead of night, so sleep doesn't come by often for the red haired vigilante.

even when he does get nightmares, there's not many people he can call to or rely on to help comfort him. he doesn't trust any of the knights, and he definitely doesn't trust kaeya to help at all. so comforting someone isn't something he knows how to do well.

but he tries his best to comfort you in any way, shape, or form if you ever needed him to.

the knocking against his door is quiet, nearly nonexistent if diluc was preoccupied with anything other than trying to sleep. he would have ignored it if it weren't for the quiet whisper of his name from a voice he recognized. sighing, he rises from his bed and heads over to his door, mentally preparing himself for whatever you're planning to throw over his head.

instead, diluc is met with your cheeky smile. you're definitely up to no good, but he hasn't quite figured out what you were going to do or say. before he could even question why you're standing outside his door in the dead of night, you interrupt him.

"wow diluc! fancy seeing you here, do you come here often?" he deadpans at you and nearly closes the door to go back to sleep. but he notices the way your fingers twiddle, a sign that you're nervous about something. his eyes flicker to your face, scanning anything that would give him clues on what's on your mind.

"what happened?" diluc's brows furrow in worry seeing the way your smile falls and the way your body begins to curl in on itself. he offers a hand for you to take, an invitation for you to be comforted by the stoic man in front of you. he lets a small smile grow on his lips when he sees you brighten up a tad at his invitation.

your hand is encased in his own, scarred and rough with callouses but comforting and warm at the same time.

"go back to sleep, it's already getting really late. if you need anything, though, i'll be right here until the dawn rises."

❀ childe

although sleep is necessary to maintain perfect health, childe finds it difficult to maintain a proper sleeping schedule due to his job as a fatui harbinger. when the tsaritsa calls, he needs to be there immediately to come to her aid and carry out her orders regardless of how inconvenient it was for him.

but, having many siblings, especially younger ones, has always prepared childe to comfort and protect anyone that he holds close to his heart. nobody, not even nightmares, can get close enough to harm the people he loves, not if he's alive to knock them down a peg.

which definitely includes you, someone who holds his entire world in the palm of your hands.

childe finds you awake at the dead of night after one of his shifts at the northland bank. which is surprising considering you're always asleep before he gets back home from work, always trying to stay up to welcome the harbinger home but always succumbing to the sweet embrace of slumber.

a mischievous grin grows on his lips as he plans to spook you, but as he nears your body, the shaking of your body and quiet sniffles reach his ears. immediately, childe's hand is on your shoulder and he frowns when you yelp and whip around to see him.

"o-oh, ajax, i didn't expect to see you home so soon. i was just getting ready for bed." a white lie. childe presses his lips into a thin line, his hand reaching out to catch a tear falling from your cheek. did...did he do this to you? was he being a bad partner for not putting aside more time for you?

as if reading his mind, you vehemently shake your head and grab onto childe's wrist. "no! no... it's not what you think i just had a really bad dream and couldn't go back to sleep. don't worry, you don't need to beat yourself up over this." he relaxes immediately at your comment, but he still feels bad for leaving you alone when you needed someone to comfort you.

childe leans over, cupping your face in his hands as he showers your face in featherlight kisses. your giggles fill the room and the habinger can't help but laugh as well, especially after pressing a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips. "how about i cook you a nice stew for tonight? it always helped teucer calm down when he was scared."

and you take him up on that offer. the rest of the evening is filled with light laughter from the both of you as childe moves around the kitchen and tells you stories of his childhood. the scene is comforting, peaceful, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"how about we turn in for tonight? don't worry, nothing will harm you as long as your big, strong ajax is by your side!"

❀ kaeya

despite his title of being a "lazy" and "laid-back" captain of the calvary, kaeya isn't one to sleep too much. he has a regular sleeping schedule, though there are some nights where the memories of his past haunt him and he stays up reminiscing about how things were.

he's one to brood alone, not letting anyone see him vulnerable. but he likes to be relied on. there isn't a bone in his body that prevents him from helping anyone in need, even though the way he gets things done is quite... unconventional to everybody else's standards.

but when you call to him for help, he’s there in an instant.

the sound of rustling from beside kaeya stirs him from his slumber. he squints, his good eye focusing in the darkness of his room before landing on your curled up figure beside him. he figures you’re just shifting in your sleep and closes his eyes again, but you shift again and sigh. surely, you’re not sleeping at this point.

kaeya gently calls out your name, a warm smile on his face when he sees you startle from his voice. though, his smile melts away from his face when he sees your expression. it doesn’t help that you flinch slightly when his hand reaches over to brush against your cheek.

“sorry, i just…i’m still shaken from my dream and-“ your apologies are cut short when kaeya sends you a comforting smile and cups your jaw in his hand. he assures you that it’s fine.

“are you okay? how long have you been up?” it takes you a moment too long to come up with a lie that would put your lover at ease. when you come up with an answer, kaeya is already staring at you with his mismatched orbs, one of deep sapphire and the other a light, milky blue color. you can’t lie to him now.

so you tell the calvary captain about the dream you just had, not going too into details with what really shook you. and kaeya listens to everything you say, a hand firmly on your arm to remind him that you’re with him and not whatever occurred in your dreams.

he makes little comments here and there to lighten the mood, though he knows when to keep quiet so you can talk it through. when you finish talking the dream through, kaeya pinches your cheek, chiding you for dreaming of such things.

but he reassures you that you’re fine, and that he’s here to protect you should anything from your dreams come into reality. he jokes about letting you handle everything alone, but you know he wouldn’t despite how cheeky he is.

"don't let the bedbugs bite, [name]. haha, kidding. i'll be here to fight them off if you need me. i am a captain after all."

❀ xiao

xiao isn't unfamiliar with nightmares and dreams. don't forget, one of his duties under the reign of the yaksha's previous master was to devour the dreams of the innocent. it had gotten to the point where dreams were the only things he could stomach, despite detesting the intent behind it.

despite it all, though, xiao is still an adeptus who protects the mortals and the innocent of liyue. his sole job now, under his contract with rex lapis, is to protect even if it means throwing his life away. with a swift call of his name, he would be there to be the guardian of liyue and anyone residing in it.

and that includes you, the sole mortal that the young adeptus enjoys the company of.

a gasp tears through your throat as you sit up in your bed, sweat dripping down the side of your face. your eyes are blown wide open with the visions of your nightmare still clear in your mind. the rapid beating of your heart and panting are the only sounds heard in your otherwise quiet bedroom.

curses spill from your lips as you cradle your head in your hands, your knees pulled up to your chest to try and make yourself as small as you possibly could. but to no avail, no matter what you did to comfort yourself or make yourself forget the nightmare, the visions still flashed in your memories every time you closed your eyes.

you don't hear the rustling from your window, nor did you feel the presence of someone crouching from behind your curtains. it's only when he gently calls your name do you whip your head around, eyes coming face to face with golden eyes that gleam in the moonlight.

"xiao... sorry i didn't see you there," you stutter, quickly wiping your eyes and turning away so the young adeptus wouldn't see you crying. his eyes narrow at you, eyebrows furrowing as a frown settles on his face. "what are you-"

your hands are pulled away from your face and you're pulled closer to him. "you're crying." you try to deny xiao's observation and reassure him that you're fine, but a hand gently brushes against your cheek.

xiao doesn't say anything when the tears begin falling down your face again. he doesn't say anything when you jump into his arms and bury your face in his chest. you feel his arms firmly wrap themselves around you. he doesn't say a word, but his actions alone assure you that he would be there with you for the rest of the evening.

"sleep. should any more dreams come to haunt you during your rest, i'll be here to dispose of them."

❀ zhongli

as an archon, zhongli doesn't find much need for sleep. he's a god and no god needs sleep to be energized for the following day. it's not like it would do well for him anyways, seeing as he would much rather prefer strolling the lit up streets of liyue harbor in the late evening before returning to his home to drink tea and relax.

that's not to say he isn't familiar with dreams and how they can affect mortals. he knows full well the impact they can have, especially if they're dreams filled with horrible outcomes or stuff nobody would like to be reminded of.

so when you come to him to seek comfort after a horrible night, he's ready to welcome you into his embrace.

the gentle whisper of zhongli's name alerts him of your presence from the hallway in your shared home. the archon lifts his head to look at you, eyes made of molten gold meeting your shaking gaze. "what's wrong, dear?" you don't answer his question and instead shift your gaze to the ground.

zhongli tells you to "come here" in the gentlest voice he could muster, and you do. as soon as you sit beside your lover, his hand comfortingly holds your jaw and lifts your face so you can see him. there's nothing but endearment and love in his gaze. "you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

he hums in amusement seeing the way your body relaxes after that. there's a gentle tug on your arm, a signal for you to find comfort in zhongli's embrace, and you find yourself snug in between the archon's arms. you inhale deeply, zhongli's comforting scent filling your lungs.

his hands rake gently up and down your spine and hearing his heartbeat from where you rest on his chest calms you immensely. if it weren't for your nervous, rhythmic tapping against his arm, zhongli would have assumed you fell back asleep in his arms.

"would you like to hear about the play i've been attending to recently? the plot is quite interesting, i think you would enjoy it." he attempts to distract you for a while to calm your nerves after waking so abruptly, and it works, not to his surprise.

as he drones on and on about the plot that doesn't quite make sense to you in your dazed state, the archon notices the way your fingers have stilled and your breathing has evened out, much calmer and more regulated than before. zhongli smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"it's starting to get late. you should try to rest again. don't worry, i'll be beside you should anything happen to you once more."

[kamotoshi]

safe [chōsō x reader]

pairing: chōsō x fem sorcerer! reader

genre: fluff with (seriously faint) hints of angst

warning(s): contains manga spoilers for chapter 62!

word count: 2.3k

overview: after spending many years as a sorcerer, you’ve believed certain things to be true. but a chance meeting with a curse that’s developed into a deeper relationship changes your perspective.

notes: want some listening music? here are two songs that helped me write this: summer fling by kang + effervescent by toonorth

A quiet, but gasping breath fills your lungs with a pocket of cold air when you wake from a dead sleep with a start. Instinctively, your hand flies in front of you, directed towards the doorway to obliterate whatever intruder you automatically assume has roused you from your deep slumber. However, much to your surprise, you’re completely alone. Rubbing your eyes, you turn your head towards the alarm clock on your bedside table to check the hour.

Ah, it’s that time again.

With a gentle sigh, you slide out from beneath the warm covers, causing your skin to break out in a wave of goosebumps at the chill in your room that you throw on a sweater and pants to combat before heading to the kitchen of your small but cozy living quarters. Sleep refuses to relinquish its grip, and you ungracefully bump into a few surfaces in the process of preparing two, hot cups of tea and finding a blanket to drape around your shoulders.

The rush of crisp air that greets you when you finally make your way outside of your abode livens you up a bit, though, and you wrap your arms around yourself to retain as much warmth as you can. Following the stone path decorated with glowing lanterns brings you to the front gates of your school—a place you know to visit whenever you wake up with such a start in the dead of the night. The drinks in your hands radiate heat that staves off the bite of the cold as another gust of wind howls past you.

In the darkness of the night, only lit ever so faintly by the twinkling stars in the sky and the waning moon, your eyes search for the visitor who seems to have fallen into a habit of making their presence known around the same time on every odd evening. Sure enough, the thumping of heavy boots against the stone walkway winding near and through Jujutsu High’s campus draws your attention to a tall figure wandering around nearby. The baggy cream clothes draped over his body beneath a vest the hue of blood instantly give away his identity, along with the dark, spiked hair gathered neatly atop both halves of his head.

Before his name can leave your mouth, he turns around to face you, as if he senses your presence the same way you sense his on the nights that he chooses to visit. It’s almost as if he uses some unseen force to disturb you from your sleep so he can steal away anywhere from a few minutes to hours of your time. Of course, this possibility would seem at least the slightest bit insane to an average person, but, for you—a jujutsu sorcerer—it cannot be discounted for the sole reason of what your visitor is: a special grade curse.

Wordlessly, the man you’ve come to know as Chōsō after a twisted event that led to many more spontaneous encounters such as this approaches you. His dark gaze skims over your figure before settling on your own, making your heart thud gently in your chest. Placing his hands in his pockets, he glances at the drinks you’re holding and asks, “Will you come on a walk with me?”

As a sorcerer, it should be second nature to meet the request of a cursed spirit with a no followed by a prompt exorcism. However, in all the times that he’d come to visit, he hadn’t appeared to do so out of ill will or inclination to get some sort of revenge. He’d always sat on the outskirts of the campus or walked around the lush forest surrounding it with you, making as much or as little conversation as you’d liked. In spite of how powerful you knew he was and the nature of his being, you didn’t feel particularly put off by him. In fact, you often found yourself thinking about him and when he’d stop by next more than you probably should.

Slowly, you nod, passing him one of your mugs so the two of you can be on your way. “Thanks.”

The sky above is surprisingly clear, given the school’s location in Tokyo, aside from a few, lingering clouds that float past the moon on their way around the part of the world you call home. It’s oddly peaceful considering your company for the evening. But you’d never really felt uneasy in his presence to begin with. And you certainly don’t feel threatened now, with the way he only seems focused on trying not to spill any of the tea you’d so kindly prepared for him as the two of you traverse a dirt path near the school’s grounds.

It's also a bit ironic, you think, that the route you seem to have fallen into the habit of taking leads you near one of the many, small shrines—gems hidden amongst the forest’s depths—but he appears to have just as much of an affinity to the location since he never suggests going elsewhere.

Beneath the gentle, pale glow from above filtered through leafy branches extending over you, Chōsō’s features take on a soft, almost peaceful appearance. He seems to bask in the symphony of crickets singing as he takes a deep breath and sits down on the grassy hill directly beside you. His dark eyes dipping down to the lip of the mug in his hands before shifting over to meet yours catches you off-guard since you hadn’t realized you’d been watching him so attentively.

“Hmm?” he wonders and takes another sip of his tea. His voice and your own pounding heartbeat are the only things you can hear above the sea of noise.

Inquisitively, you ask him a question you’re sure he’s used to hearing: “Why do you keep coming here?”

He sighs and glances at the grass beneath the two of you before answering, “I get overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” you echo.

His head bobs in a slow nod as he tilts it up towards the sky once more, making his dark eyes twinkle in spite of the hint of sadness that seems to be lingering behind his gaze. “I’m always expected to do things. To pay the price of being granted my life here. And sometimes, all I wanna do is just sit and look at the sky.” There’s a small, but undeniable ache of empathy in your chest as you allow your eyes to flit over every feature of his face, searching for the words he’s not saying. But with his straightforward, unabashedly honest manner of speaking, it’s unlikely for him to leave you wondering.

After taking a drink to fight off the chilliness, another question leaves your lips. “You could go anywhere to cloud watch or stargaze, though. Why come all the way here?”

“I want to.”

Your fingers tap against the ceramic of your mug. “But being here puts you in a lot of danger. Why would you want to go somewhere like this to escape?”

Without a hint of hesitation, his dark eyes find your own once more as he states, “Because you’re here.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you filled with the ceaseless chirps of crickets during which you attempt to mask any effects of your racing heart and the heat crawling up your neck at his confession. However, the shock that strikes you like lightning must be written on your face, since his eyebrows furrow slightly with confusion at your reaction, and he adds, “I thought I made it clear I come here to spend time with you.”

For a few seconds, your lips make quivering, unsuccessful attempts at forming words your vocal cords won’t allow you to voice before you direct your attention to the mug in your hands filled with tea, instead, and try to regain your composure enough to speak. “W-Well, I knew that, but why?” is all you can inquire with a quiet murmur.

His chest rises and falls in a deep, shuddering breath as a cool gust of wind whistles through the trees. At first, you wonder, with the slight glossiness to his eyes and his sudden inability to meet your gaze, if his emotions are the source of the tremors you notice in his jaw. However, the realization that he’s cold soon reaches you at the sight of his arms folding across his chest. Wordlessly and without thinking, you close the little distance between your bodies and drape part of your blanket around his broad shoulders.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, uncrossing his arms so one of his hands can hold the side of the blanket you’ve given him while the other plants itself on the grass behind you. The unexpected warmth radiating from him that seems to engulf you in the tight space you’re now sharing makes it hard to resist the temptation of resting your head on his shoulder.

“I miss my brothers,” is the gently spoken truth that leaves his lips, “I wanted to give them a better life. My failure to fulfill my role as their older brother is something that weighs heavily on me, even though I know they’d tell me they forgave me if I had been there in their final moments.”

Following his moment of vulnerability, the two of you find enough courage to make eye contact, and you struggle not to lose yourself in the seemingly endless depths of his midnight-colored irises. With your faces mere inches away, you’re granted a closer look at him than you’ve ever had before, and it seems, from the way he’s watching you so intently, that you’re not the only one enjoying the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

The muscles in his neck tense with a thick swallow before he continues, “But when I’m here with you, I feel like it’s okay that I’m still alive even though they’ve passed. You don’t look at me with hatred in your eyes or expect anything from me in exchange for my existence. You accept me as I am.” Another gentle breeze dislodges a few strands of hair tucked behind his ear that you naturally move back into place for him before your hand warm from the drink you’d been holding comes to rest against his cheek. “Why?”

His fingertips ghosting along your own neck and cheek leave sparks of electricity on your skin in their wake. But you manage to organize the thoughts threatening to escape your mind at the tenderness of his touch enough to whisper, “When you fought with me instead of against me, I realized that maybe the way I’ve been taught to view the world we live in isn’t entirely accurate. You risked your life to save mine. You defied the rules about the world I once thought were true. And because you showed me that you cared about my life, I want to do the same for you.” A hint of a smile playing at his lips brings a warmth to you that you don’t think even the heaviest of blankets could provide. Taking a deep breath to slow your heart—which had been racing since he’d locked eyes with you—you ask, “Is that why you want to come here?”

“Hmm?”

“Because you care about me?”

He nods earnestly as his thumb skims over your cheekbones, and the adoration glimmering in his eyes like the stars in the night sky above brings your face closer to his. With a timidness you wouldn’t have expected from him, his lips meet with yours in a short, fleeting kiss, as if he’s testing the waters. The way you chase his after they separate, though, serves as a silent confirmation and has him deepening the kisses your lips return to his to share. Given his relatively blunt yet quiet personality, you’re pleasantly surprised by the slow, sensual manner with which his lips move against yours. You’re sure the two of you could remain in this secluded part of the woods forever, under the cover of the shadows masking you from the pale moonlight as you lose yourselves in the moment, but the reality of the situation marks its painful return when you pull away.

“I care about you a lot, and I want to see you more often,” he breathes, “But the last thing I want is to put you in danger. That’s why I’ve been visiting every once in a while and in the middle of the night.”

Moving your hand to his shoulder to rub it gently, you murmur, “I know; I want to see you too, Chōsō.” In an instant, his arms are around you, pulling your body flush against his, and the action fills you with a bittersweet feeling, since this is only the first time you’ve been so close to him, yet you’re unsure of when you’ll get to share more affectionate moments with him like this one. “We’ll find a way to make it work,” is the promise you whisper into his neck while he nestles his face in yours.

After a few, long moments of silence have passed during which your mind exhausts itself by tirelessly attempting to form solutions to an issue you never could’ve imagined you’d have in your lifetime, you start to relinquish your grip around Chōsō. He, however, isn’t ready to do the same, and refuses to budge.

Instead, he answers your curious hum with, “I’ll let you go back to bed soon, but is it okay if I hold you for a little longer?” Even though fatigue is starting to settle in, you consent and wrap your arms around him once more, resting your head against the side of his and nestling your face in his hair as you let your heavy eyelids close. “I’ve just never felt this way before.”

“Which is…?”

Your heart flutters against his chest in cadence with his own against yours at his answer.

“Safe.”

[a-n-conrad]

Painting (Steve Rogers x Reader)

[Summary: You decide to paint your friend, Steve Rogers, realizing that no one had ever painted him without his uniform. However, things start to get heated after you start to daydream during your painting session. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT (18+, but with emotions), Not Canon Compliant (Because fuck you, Marvel.), Swearing, unprotected vaginal sex

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/D9rsJtkERoBPaKvv8)]

You and Steve Rogers were widely considered to be an unlikely pair. There were a lot of things that you didn’t exactly agree on. Steve was a lot more social, being bold and outgoing. You were a bit quieter, preferring to avoid the company of a crowd. Steve was prone to waking up early to exercise. You stayed up into the quiet hours of the night, choosing instead to get a majority of your sleep in the morning. You weren’t exactly fond of Steve’s workout routines either, though you would join him on a short jog on occasion.

While you were technically considered an Avenger, you were really only brought out to fight for emergency circumstances. You had some incredibly powerful, incredibly volatile powers, but you really had no interest in using them unless it was completely needed. So you ended up making a few deals. You’d be treated like an Avenger, but you were basically benched unless some drastic, world-ending issue came up. So until then, you were kept on hold in Avengers Tower, spending most of your time painting in the studio that Tony had gotten set up for you.

Despite this power, and despite your title as an official Avenger, you were still a bit of an outsider among the team. You tended not to talk to them a lot, becoming a bit easily overwhelmed by the chaos that the team seemed to radiate. But surprisingly, you and Steve got along incredibly well.

You had originally bonded over your love of art. You loved Steve’s drawings. You admired the linework and shading in his drawings. He could do so much with just a pen, let alone if you gave him a few colors. He admired the amount of emotion you managed to instill into every single painting that you made. No matter what you painted, whether it was a portrait, a landscape, or something entirely different, it was always filled to the brim with the emotion that you had felt while painting it. It was like looking through a window into your soul. It was so honest and refreshing.

Eventually the two of you started to talk a bit more while you worked. It started pretty tame, just discussions of how your day was or general questions about each other like “What’s your favorite color”. But eventually you moved on to the harsher topics of your lives. Steve would talk about how exhausting it was to be the face of America, to be held on such a pedestal while also being expected to sacrifice everything at the drop of a hat. You talked about how cold and dehumanizing it felt to be seen by the American government as nothing more than a weapon, a walking nuclear bomb.

Your struggles overlapped at certain points. You both spent a lot of your time being used by the government. You were both seen as tools more than you were seen as people by a lot of the general public. You were a weapon and he was an idol, some sort of trophy. So you bonded a lot over your shared struggles as you talked to each other and worked on art side by side. And when the hard stuff got a bit too heavy, you’d sit and talk about art. About subjects that you just loved to add to all of your work. About what each shade of every color meant to you, about the emotions that you saw in every tiny color shift.

It was so nice, for both of you, to have something like that. The studio that you spent time in was so safe and peaceful for both of you, since the other Avengers tended to avoid it. And the two of you had started to see through each other’s masks enough to truly get to know each other. Steve couldn’t remember the last time someone had known him as Steve Rogers more than they had known him as Captain America. He had Bucky, but Bucky was far too busy with his own issues for Steve to even consider burdening him with anything else. But with you he could truly be himself, even if that meant getting angry, sad, or frustrated.

So the two of you had become incredibly close, despite your differences. And every day that you had some free time without any big meeting or mission, you would be in the studio helping each other with art. It was a good way for you to relieve stress, just relaxing with each other. It was one of those days that you came to a realization.

- - - - -

“Has anyone ever painted you?” You asked suddenly one day as the two of you sat side by side in the art studio. He looked a bit surprised, and then he looked confused.

“Of course. There are murals of me up all over the place, (Y/n).”

“No, there are murals of Captain America,” you responded, shaking your head, “They don’t really look that much like you. You really only look like that when you’re working as Captain America. So has anyone ever painted you? As Steve Rogers?”

He looked surprised again. And you could tell as the emotions cycled through his face that he didn’t really know how to respond. You supposed it was a bit of an odd question. And you knew that it was a bit odd to think of someone and their superhero persona as two different people, but Steve couldn’t disagree. He wasn’t Captain America all the time, and he loved that you understood that, “I suppose I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess not.”

You hummed a bit, “That’s a shame. It feels like a waste that everyone paints a costume. You should let me paint you sometime.”

You said it in a way that he wasn’t sure if you were serious. Your face was entirely serious when you said it, but you said it so casually, not even really looking at him, “Really?”

You finally looked up at him, noticing the pure confusion on his face, “Of course. I mean, you’d have to sit still for a while, but honestly, you could probably just sit and sketch for a while. You just seem too good of a subject to not be painted without the costume.”

Steve wasn’t really one to blush, but it was quite the compliment coming from you. He had women trying to hit on him all the time now, being Captain America, but that never really felt heartfelt. It had been a fairly long time since he had actually felt a real connection with someone. But to hear you compliment him, thinking of him as Steve Rogers instead of Captain America, made his heart flutter a bit. And the fact that he knew that you were rather picky about the subject you painted only made it more effective.

“I, uh, think that’d be cool,” He responded as soon as he was sure that he could trust his voice not to crack, though he couldn’t hide the slight stutter. It was honestly endearing how much his personality changed when he wasn’t working. While he was still headstrong and stubborn, he was a bit less confident. He knew he could win a fight. He knew that he looked good on television. But he didn’t really know how to interact with people in the new modern age. He was lucky to have the friends that he did. At least, that’s how he felt about it.

“Wonderful,” You hummed, starting to put away all of your supplies, “Why don’t we pack it up for the day and I can start painting you tomorrow if we aren’t too busy?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

- - - - -

The next day was surprisingly slow. You had to say that you were thankful. You had been looking forward to getting to paint Steve, even though you knew it was making him a little nervous. You were honestly excited to have a new project, and part of you was excited for the opportunity to stare at Steve for a bit without it being considered weird. He was easy to admire, both physically and on a personal level, so you found yourself staring more often than you’d like to admit. You were pretty sure that you had been lucky enough to avoid being caught though.

He was physically gorgeous. Obviously. But something about the way that he looked when he was drawing was nearly angelic. The way he furrowed his brows just a little and turned his paper at odd angles to make sure that the proportions of his sketches were right was adorable. The look in his eyes when his work started to come together made your heart melt. When he got a bit frustrated and would run a hand through his hair you could feel your heart skip a beat. You felt a bit dumb to be drooling over your friend, but you had to admit you were falling pretty hard for him. So you’d use this painting as an excuse to admire him without any questions.

He was already blushing a bit when he came into the studio, and you had a feeling that part of it was from Tony teasing him. He had a habit of giving the two of you a bit of a hard time about how much time you spent together. But the blush was still adorable. Something about Steve when he was nervous stole your heart. He was surprisingly soft when he had the space to be.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” He asked as he strode over to your work station that you had already gotten set up.

“Just pull a chair up in front of me. You can get comfortable, start sketching, and I’ll get a base outline and block out as much as I can. Just let me know if you need a break and try not to change your pose too much. At least until I can get all of the base shapes right,” You instructed, trying to keep your voice even. You were surprised at how well you managed to hide the fact that you were completely lovesick.

“Alright, sounds good,” He responded, pulling up a chair and getting himself situated. He crossed one of his legs over the other, resting his ankle on his other thigh to give himself a place to set his sketchbook. You tossed him his pencil once he got himself settled, and then you got to work.

You had to admit you had started to get a bit frustrated with how easily you managed to get distracted by him while you were trying to paint. You had hoped that maybe painting him would help. You had no reason to get distracted from your painting when you were painting him. At least, that’s what you had thought before you started sketching out the form.

You felt yourself losing focus as your brush moved smoothly, the incredibly thin, light paint building a form that you found yourself wanting to know a bit more intimately. You tried your best to stay focused on the canvas in front of you, but you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting. You imagined what his body looked like under his clothes as you blocked out the lights and shadows of the fabric that rested over his abs. And the vivid image in your brain, the detailed picture of his body that you had conjured up in front of you, followed your brush as you worked.

The brush slid smoothly across the canvas, outlining his muscles, almost all of which showed through his thin t-shirt. Your brain almost instantly conjured up a matching image, the fantasy becoming more and more dynamic as you went on. It shifted from regular images of what his abs looked like when he was shirtless to more detailed images. Thoughts of his biceps flexing a bit as he held himself over you, his arms covered in sweat. Thoughts of his hands sliding across your skin. It only got worse as you moved down, eventually reaching the point between his legs.

“(Y/n)? Are you alright?” Steve’s voice finally broke you from your thoughts, his eyes which had been focused intently on his drawing when you had last looked were now trained on your face, scanning for any sign as to what was causing you to space out, “You don’t normally get distracted when you’re painting, is everything alright?”

“Oh,” You tried your best to pull yourself back to reality, though the fantasies seemed to be burned into your brain, “Yeah, sorry. I was, uh, spacing out a bit.”

“Do you want to take a break for a bit? Maybe we should get up and stretch,” He suggested. You nodded in response, hoping it would help you refocus on your painting.

It didn’t help much, though, as Steve stood, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt lifted up just enough to show some skin, and his pants were riding fairly low. Your eyes almost involuntarily moved to look at him, landing right about the button to the jeans that he was wearing. The muscles in his hips and stomach formed an almost perfect V shape leading into his pants.

“(Y/N)?” You had been caught staring. You tried your best to look casual, relaxing your posture. Your mistake was to try to lean on the table, setting your hand directing on your palette, which was covered in paints.

You froze, and Steve’s eyes landed on your hand, the red and blue paint gushing out from the sides. You felt like an awkward teenager, doing stupid ridiculous shit in front of your crush. You watched intently for a reaction from Steve, not really knowing what to do and hoping that the way that he reacted would give you something easy to respond to.

He raised one of his eyebrows at you, a look of confusion, with a small hint of amusement under the surface painted across his face, “You seem to have set your hand in your paint.”

“Uh, yes, it would seem so,” You responded awkwardly, finally lifting your hand out of the paint. You still really weren’t sure what to say, and not knowing where to put your hand so that you wouldn’t smear any paint anywhere wasn’t really making you feel any better. You cleared your throat a bit, trying to think of something smart to say, something that wouldn’t signal exactly how far gone you were into your fantasies, but instead you just signaled to Steve how flustered you were.

You knew that Steve had never been the biggest ladies’ man. From what he had told you, he was actually pretty awkward growing up, but the confidence that washed over him as he finally figured out what was getting you so flustered was visible. He walked closer to you, standing close enough to emphasize how tall he was, “Got something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Oh, uh,” You stuttered, not sure what to say. You could tell that he knew from the smirk on his face, but you could feel your face heating up as you thought about explaining your fantasizing to Steve. He smirked even more as you got visibly flustered.

“It’s okay, honey, I don’t mind if you stare a little,” He said, standing a bit closer, his hand moving to hold your chin. You swallowed deeply as his fingers brushed against your skin softly. Your eyes locked with his as his hand tilted your chin up just a little.

As much as he was keeping up his confident, masculine persona, you could see the complete warmth in his eyes. He softened completely when you looked at him, pure admiration in your eyes. He had to admit it warmed his heart to see you looking at him like that, like he was your whole world. And maybe it was because he felt the same way. He had been falling in love with you slowly, and as he looked at you, he wanted to find every way possible to express it.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his voice soft.

“Please.”

His lips were much softer than you thought they’d be, but you didn’t think about it too much as his lips moved against your own. It was soft at first, but it began to escalate quickly, getting rough and more passionate. His hands moved to your waist, pulling your body into his own, and your hands moved to his face, too focused on the kiss to notice the fact that you were smearing paint across his cheek.

He pulled back, allowing you to get a breath of air. That was when you noticed the red and blue streaks across his cheek, “Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about,” He brushed it off, before pulling you into another kiss. He truly didn’t seem to care at all about the paint, choosing instead to focus on you.

This kiss started off much more passionate, building even further. Before long he pulled away again, pulling a groan from your mouth as you instinctively wanted more. Your complaints were silenced, though, as he began to kiss down your neck, nipping slighting at a few select spots, leaving marks for you to see later.

“If you want me to stop, just say it,” He said, as his hands started to move towards the hem of your shirt. He was moving slowly, giving you the chance to stop him at any point. You didn’t.

Before long, your clothes were entirely discarded, scattered haphazardly across the floor. Steve’s followed shortly. Neither of you could keep your hands to yourself, feeling the curves of each other's bodies as you continued to kiss. Both of you were desperate, the tension that neither of you even realized had been building finally crashing to the ground around you, any sort of restraint being thrown out the window.

However, you had to take a few moments to admire his body. You knew that it was perfect, he was a super soldier, of course it’s perfect, but you didn’t really know how perfect until it was right in front of you. There was no way you could’ve imagined it in a way that did it true justice. The warmth under his skin, the pace of his breathing, the firm feeling of his grip on your waist. Those were things that you could never have imagined fully.

He lifted you up without any issue, placing his hands under your thighs, carrying you to the work table and setting you on a clear section of the table without breaking the kiss. His hands slid across the tops of your thighs before grabbing your hips. Yours moved from his cheeks to rest on his bare chest, smearing a bit more paint across his scalped chest. You could feel his erection brush against your leg as he leaned over you, the two of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

You were breathing heavily, your brain clouded with need, both new and left over from your earlier fantasies. Fantasies that were coming true, “Please, Steve.”

“What is it, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, looking down at you, his pupils blown wide with desire, “What do you want?”

You began to grind against his thigh without really thinking about it. He had to admit that something about you needing him this much turned him on, but he wanted to wait until you said it before he did anything, “Please fuck me.”

He would’ve liked to have a bit more foreplay, but both of you were so needy, having built up to this for so long with so little release until now. So he complied with your request. He pulled you quickly to the edge of the table. You were forced to lay your upper body down completely so that he could pull your hips to hang over the edge a bit. He took a few moments to rub himself against the entrance to your pussy, coating the head of his cock with liquid that was practically dripping from your pussy. Finally, he pushed himself into you slowly, making sure to monitor your reaction for any sort of discomfort. You were indulging in the feeling of him slowly stretching you out, completely enjoying the feeling of having him as close to you as possible.

He started moving after he was sure that you were comfortable, his hands beginning to wander your body, squeezing at your hips and breasts, basically any part of you that had a bit of squish, something for him to grab. His mouth latched on to the base of your neck, leaving a deep, dark hickey. You could feel every movement of his hips, his cock brushing against your internal walls again with each thrust.

You couldn’t hold back your moans as he found the perfect spot to hit, one of his hands gripping one of your hips tightly to hold you in place as his thrusts gained momentum. He started picking up speed a bit, taking care to continue to hit the spot that made you moan the loudest. His other hand slid down further, his fingers making their way between your folds. He was surprisingly quick to find your clit, not that you were complaining. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head as he started to rub small circles over it, keeping pace with his thrusts.

You were practically putty in his hands, falling apart as he found every way to make you moan. Touch, squeezing, kissing, and biting exactly where you needed him to. You had no idea how he knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t really care as a knot began to build in the pit of your stomach.

You practically screamed his name as the knot finally snapped, Steve continuing his motions, continuing to rub your clit, as you rode out your climax, your whole body feeling as though fireworks were shooting through your veins. Your walls tightened with the waves of your orgasms, the fluttering feeling clear to Steve as he continued to bury himself inside of you. Soon after your climax finished, you could feel his thrust begin to get a bit sloppy, focus clear on his face as he tried his best to hold on longer.

He couldn’t hold on that long, though, soon giving in to the building pleasure. He came hard, his hips snapping into your own and his head being buried in your neck to hide his curses as he came completely undone. You could feel the thick hot ropes of his cum coating your insides as he finished. You both stayed like that for a few moments in order to catch your breath.

As you started to come back to reality, you finally noticed the mess you had made. Steve’s hair was a mess, blue paint sticking some of the tips together. You couldn’t even remember when you had grabbed his hair, but the paint smears left a clear map of where your hand had wandered. The blue and red stripes across his face and chest were clear, too. In fact, you had gotten paint all over his sculpted body, the blue smears outlining his muscles.

“We should probably clean up and get back to work, huh?” He eventually sighed, his eyes never leaving your body.

“I suppose.”

(A/N: Thanks for reading! If you want to send me a tip for my writing feel free to tip me over venmo! My venmo is Al3x13l. Tips aren't required, but as a broke college student, they are appreciated.)

[forever-rogue]

In Name Only - Part 5

A/N: Hello, my sunshines! Here is the re-write of the original part 5. Hopefully it’s as good as the original, and if it’s your first time reading this, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: language, period typical sexism and misogyny

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Oberyn groaned as he sat up, rubbing away the bits of sleep that were still clinging on from his tired eyes. It was before first light and his rooms were shrouded in darkness, but he knew he needed to get up in order to prepare for his journey. He needed to leave soon in order to make it out of Sunspear before day broke in order to make the long trek that would consist of several long days. 

He hadn’t slept much the evening before, his head swimming with a mixture of different thoughts, but more anything else, he had been all consumed by you. After he had kissed you, he wasn’t sure he had made the right decision, or if he had possibly ruined everything that was building between the two of you. But when you had kissed him, unsure and hesitant at first, but then melted into his touch, he realized that maybe you had wanted this too. You had looked back at him with the absolute sweetest eyes and took it everything in his power not to grab you and pull you back into his rooms then and there.

But no. This wasn’t going to be like that. This wasn’t going to be anything like that. If you wanted this, as he was beginning to think he might as well, he needed to know for sure. He wanted everything to be crystal clear, and at no point would he want to take advantage of you.

He stood up, letting his feet hit the floor with a dull thud, finding himself reluctant to leave again. Something was calling to him, encouraging him to stay, but he knew he couldn’t. There was a job to be done and he needed to do it before addressing whatever was going on within his heart and his mind. Oberyn’s gait was heavy, a sharp contrast to how light his tread normally was, as he crossed the room to his wardrobe and lazily pulled out some clothes to wear. His morning routine was simple, but today it felt overwhelming, most likely because he was unenthusiastic to leave and would rather have stayed. Stayed and spent the time with you.

But a knock came at his door and told him that everyone was waiting on him to come down so they could all leave. Grumbling his acquiescence, he grabbed the few things he planned on taking before exiting his chambers and leaving his bag in front of his door. When he stepped into the hallway, straightening his tunic with a yawn, his tired gaze fell on your door. He slowly walked over, resting his large hand on the wooden door as he debated whether or not to come in. His curiosity got the better of him and he opened the heavy door, slowly, as to not make a sound and disturb your sleep.

Once there was enough of a gap for him, he slipped inside and walked over to your bed. You were bundled up in your blankets, only your head poking out of them, a peaceful, serene expression on your face. A smile crossed his own face as he leaned down, unable to stop himself, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. A small sound escaped your lips and he worried for a moment that he had woken you, but your eyes remained closed, and you shifted slightly as your hand appeared moved to rest on top of the blankets. He looked at it closely, finding it hard to fight a smile when he saw the wedding band on your finger, the one that matched his.

“I’ll see you soon, sweet girl,” he whispered, gently touching your face, before straightening back up and slowly retreating out of the room and closing your door again. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he grew even more hesitant to leave. This pull, this strange sensation that was washing over and drawing him towards you was getting even stronger. With one last longing look at your door, he started walking down the stairs and out of the palace. He really hoped that this wouldn’t take a whole week and it would be an easy there and back job.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The journey to Yronwood was an interesting one; it required travel from his home through many different parts of Dorne, all varied and different in cultures and customs. One thing that seemed to be ever present however was the warm, welcoming feeling that was ever present wherever he went. People stopped what they were doing, coming out of their homes and shops to see their prince and greet him. Oberyn was beloved by his people and he loved them in turn. 

Many stopped for even a mere glimpse of the handsome prince, waving and shouting well wishes at him. Wishes of good fortune, health, and a long and happy marriage. He had no doubt many had been eager to see a glimpse of his new bride, but that would all come in time. For now, he was happy to keep you safe and at home, while he handled whatever troubles were brewing in Yronwood. 

The various states of Dorne were something to behold; each boasted a different look and atmosphere and yet it was all harmonic and came together beautifully. Despite having traveled the world, this would always be his favorite place to be - his home. He hoped one that day you would consider it yours too. But that was another thought for another day, when he had time to show you more. Now he needed to focus on weeding out the problem, although he was sure he had an inkling of what was going on.

As soon as Yronwood came into view, an odd sensation settled in his stomach. It was still beautiful, in its own way, but a sharp contrast to the rest of the region. Instead of the vibrancy and openness of many Dornish holds and cities, Yronwood more closely resembled the Northern parts of Westeros. A slight shudder ran down his spine at the thought. While people, namely women, retained the same liberties here as they did throughout Dorne, the reality was vastly different. No one said anything, but it was...a known fact. And as it turned out, every once in a while Doran or Oberyn had to remind them of that little detail. 

“Uncle!” Oberyn was pulled back into attention from the sound of the young man’s voice. He turned and saw his nephew, Quentyn running towards him, flanking by a few others from the castle. He was grinning from ear to ear as he stopped in front of Oberyn’s horse and took the reins while Oberyn slid off.

“My boy,” he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around his nephew, clutching him tightly to his chest. The young boy was almost the spitting image of Oberyn at his; tan and lithe, with a mop of dark curls and soft eyes, and a smile that matched his own. He’d always had a soft spot for his nephew, the only boy that was ever-present in his life; in some ways regarded him as a son rather than a nephew. He pressed a kiss to the top of head, “I’ve missed you. Look at you, you’re practically a man grown.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Quentyn grinned at him; he looked up this father, naturally, but there was no denying that Oberyn was his hero. They’d always shared a special bond, “I am glad to see you again. And what of your new wife? Are you hiding her away?”

“You will meet her soon enough,” Oberyn promised, “she’s remaining in Sunspear for the time being until I can show her more of Dorne. I figured that would be best for now, and that her first introduction to Dorne should not be with Yronwood. She’ll quite like you - and you’ll like her. She’s very kind.”

“I should be glad to meet her as well,” he grinned as the men started heading towards the castle, “perhaps I can come back home soon for a visit - or better yet, for good. I know Papa thinks I should remain here but I’d like to be home with everyone else…”

“I know,” Oberyn offered his shoulder a firm squeeze, “but for now you must remain here. It’s only for a few more years; I know it seems harsh, but your fostering is almost complete. Besides - you are a Martell. You must not bow to them, you must keep them in line too. What are your words, Quentyn?”

“Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.”

“Exactly,” Oberyn grinned, “never let them take that from you. Have they been treating you well?”

“Yes,” he said as they headed into the dreary keep, “the arms master and maester are kind and knowledgeable. It’s mainly the Yronwoods themselves, Uncle. They’re…”

“Oberyn Martell!” the booming voice was commanding and Oberyn turned on his heel to find its owner.

“Anders Yronwood,” he acknowledged with a slight bow of his head. Anders Yronwood was a tall, portly man with a scarred visage and a receding hairline. He’d seen many battles throughout his lifetime, which left him hardened in looks and personality. Oberyn had always felt there was something off about him, but he never had quite even evidence of anything to prove his claims. Instead he made sure his visits were not too infrequent. The man extended his hand and Oberyn shook it, refusing to be the first to break eye contact, “a pleasure as always. I hope things have been well.”

“Well enough to cause me to wonder why you’ve made your presence known,” he laughed, a loud boisterous thing that caused Oberyn’s skin to crawl, “shouldn’t you be enjoying the company of your new bride?”

“My nephew here informed me that there were some rumors going around,” Oberyn’s hands went to his hips as he made sure to display his trusty dagger, “merchants not getting paid enough and taxes being raised and levied against the poor. All rumors of course, but I just decided to come and make sure everything is in order. There won’t be a problem, will there?”

“Of course not, your highness,” the man’s face pulled into a worried expression for a moment before he laughed and clapped Oberyn on the back, “I’ll have chambers readied for you and your men at once but for now, we’ll get a drink and celebrate the famed Dornish Prince. Now, tell me more about this Northern whore of yours. I know they’re not good for much-”

“I would choose your next words wisely, my lord,” Oberyn’s expression shifted to one of calculated anger as he raised his eyebrows, “I will not hear you refer to my wife as such again.”

“It’s a joke!” Oberyn knew it was anything but a joke, “you know how warm and giving our women are here. The ones from the North just lie there and expect you to do all the work. But I guess it doesn’t matter, does it, as long as you can find release and they can produce a few heirs.”

“I would cease to speak if I were you,” Oberyn stopped dead in tracks as he was almost trembling with anger. Such foul, vile words from a man who called himself fair and just. He was anything but, “I’m not sure if you’re aware that women are people as well? Equal, if not better, no matter where they’re from. They do not exist solely for our pleasure or for the purpose of bearing heirs. Have you forgotten that?”

“I’m just saying,” he held his hands up in mock surrender as Oberyn glared daggers at him, “my second wife was Northern - wasn’t good for much, but managed to give me some sons. Other than that it was-”

“Listen here and listen well,” Oberyn grabbed the lapels of his robe and pulled him close. For once, Anders Yronwood appeared nervous, “you will learn to treat women, and everyone else with some decency and respect, regardless of their station. My nephew will be watching you closely - everything he sees and hears, so do I. Don’t forget where your loyalties lie - House Martell. One word and you will find yourself without a name, a title, or anything you deem so important. I am your Prince, as Quentyn. Remember that.”

His mouth pulled into a thin, tight line as he nodded in silence. He knew better than to tread on the Red Viper; even he wasn’t that foolish. Oberyn let him go before shoving him out of the way; he could feel the eyes of everyone in the hall on him, “of course, your highness.”

“Good,” he stated simply, motioning for Quentyn and a few of his men to follow, “I’ll see you around.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next few days were spent with Oberyn traveling throughout the region, along with some of his most trusted advisors and Quentyn. He'd always tried to instill in him the importance of being there for his people, and taking care of them. Much to his relief, Quentyn had no arguments following in his Uncle's footsteps. 

As it turned out, rumors that the Yronwoods were participating in salacious activities turned out to just be rumors. It didn't mean however, that the people were happy with their rule. Oberyn would make it a point to bring up the peoples' apprehensions; he knew he had to deal with what was going on within the castle walls first and foremost. He noticed more and more that things were off as the days had passed and they had left him with an uneasy feeling. 

More than anything, he'd gotten to the conclusion that he was missing you. It had started off as a slow, underlying feeling, but with more and more time passing, he understood what it was. He still had so much to learn about you, and vice versa, but gods, he already missed your smile and that kind hearted spirit you openly displayed. He couldn't wait to be back in Sunspear.

On this particular evening, the prince had retired to his temporary chambers early, leaving the grand hall before the sun had even set. He was feeling restless and growing listless the longer his stay in Yronwood grew. He'd gone for a walk earlier that day, and spoken with some townspeople, but that had only taken up so much of his time. 

A heavy sigh passed his lips as he stoked the fire in the corner to provide some light and warmth. It was almost laughable; this was the only part of his kingdom that wasn't light and airy.  This was cold and dreary and the lack of light and life made his heart heavy. But it was no matter, he reminded himself, he would be home soon enough.

He settled into the small, uncomfortable and uninviting bed and grabbed his book. If nothing else he'd have something to occupy his mind. 

And for a while, it worked. At first his thoughts had kept drifting back to you and Sunspear. He wondered what you were up to, if you'd had full, happy days. He couldn't imagine you shut away and hidden like he currently was. Maybe you liked to read too - maybe at night he could read to you or you to him. Still so many mysteries that would need answers. He hoped one day that he would get them all.

As he allowed himself to concentrate on his book, a quiet, almost timid knock came at his door. Raising a brow, he decided against answering it, thinking that perhaps it wasn't intended for him after all. But then it came again, but less timid this time, followed by a quiet, "y-your highness?"

A look of confusion crossed his features as he got up from the bed and made his way to the door. He opened it with slight hesitation as he spied a young girl on the other side. She wore a thick, dark robe and a nervous expression as she met his eyes. He stepped to the side as he let her in and cast a glance down the hall.

"What is your name?" he asked, shutting the door as she looked at him with wide doe eyes, "how can I help you?"

"I don't have a name," she answered softly, "and it doesn't matter. I am a gift...from Lord Anders for your pleasure. Whatever you like, My Prince, I will do to you or for you."

"Why would he send you?" Oberyn ran a hand over tired face as he internally groaned. He knew exactly what Yronwood was up to. He shook his head to himself, "did he force you? Threaten you if you didn't come?"

"O-of course not, my prince," her face faltered for a moment as she reached up and ran her hands over his broad chest. She looked young, so young, and despite her assertion that she wanted to be there. He had a feeling that while she might not have been averse to him, she was nervous, "it is an honor and privilege to pleasure the famous Prince of Dorne." 

He sucked in a breath as she pushed his robe off of his shoulders. He couldn't  feel the inner turmoil within him start to rear up. While he wasn’t normally one to pass up such an offer, he couldn’t in good conscience have the young woman. She clearly wasn’t up to this on her own merits and he would never take advantage of another; Oberyn would be in his grave before he did that. He took a step back and shook his head. He wasn’t going to do this anymore; he was, in some odd sense, already committed to you. You’d never even told him that you wanted more than a friendly relationship, but he couldn’t help his mind from wandering back to you. 

“Please do not feel obligated to do anything of the sort,” he insisted, swallowing the lump in his throat. She pushed the woolen robe from her shoulders and let it fall into a small heap on the cold stone. Oberyn couldn’t help but look her over, immediately surprised by the fact that she was bare underneath. He knew it didn’t matter what he did with her, technically, since you’d both agreed that either of you could do whatever you wanted with whomever. She took a step closed and put a delicate hand on his cheek. 

“Please,” she insisted with an odd glint in her eyes. Part of him was conflicted but before knew what was happening, something came over him and his hands found her hips as he pushed her towards the bed. She easily complied and laid on her back as Oberyn loomed over. His hands were on her sides as he bent down and kissed with a deep hunger. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close to her, nervously kissing him back.

Before it could go too far, to the point of no return, Oberyn caught himself and looked down at her. That’s when it hit him - she wasn't you. He stopped immediately and moved off the bed, shaking his head furiously. The young girl was so startled by his sudden actions that a flush of warmth crossed her features as she worried she had committed some wrong.

"My Prince," she stammered nervously, grabbing the blanket and covered herself up, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I-I…"

"No," he held up his hand and picked up the discarded robe, gently handing it back to her, "you've done nothing wrong. I'm afraid the fault is on me."

“Is everything alright?” she made quick work of dressing herself before offering him a timid smile, “I can...send someone else, if I did not please you…”

“No,” he insisted as he gently brushed back her hair, helping her tie the robe, “I won’t take advantage of this situation...besides that, it appears my heart seems to lie with my wife at this time.”

“Your wife,” she smiled slightly at the thought, “she must be very lucky to call you her husband. You’re a good man, my Prince. Much better than the pigs around here-”

As soon as her last words left her lips, a look of surprise crossed her features. Clearly, she hadn’t meant to voice her thoughts out loud. 

“I believe I am the lucky one,” did you feel the same? He hoped you did, “tell me one thing. Did Anders Yronwood threaten you if you did not come here? What did he say?”

“He…” she looked at him, searching his eyes to make sure it was safe to confide in him. He answered with a small nod and encouraged her to go on, “he has several women he favors...women that are not his wife. He considers it a gift to share them with visitors. If we do not...if we do not do as we are told...we can be punished.”

“Punished?” his brows shot straight up.

“I’ve seen it a few times,” she whispered, “they’ll get beaten until they are left a mess. I-I can’t go back, please, don’t let me go back. Not tonight. He’ll hurt me too if he thinks I've displeased you or we haven't done anything."

"Its alright," Oberyn promised her, his blood already boiling with anger. He was glad he came - apparently his little message to Yronwood hadn't quite gotten through to him. Oberyn would make sure that he received it. He must have been extremely stupid or brash in order to think he could get away with sending his gift in such a manner, "go to your chambers, and remain there. I'll make sure you're safe - now and always. If anything ever happens again you or anyone in this castle, you are to let my nephew Quentyn know. He'll get word to me and I'll be here to help however I can. You mustn't be afraid, you've got me as a friend now."

"I don't know how I could ever thank you," her eyes were closed with tears as she couldn't help but her arms around him. He hugged her tightly and offered her a few more well wishes before opening the door to her, "you really are as they say. A good, kind, and just Prince. And handsome at that. Thank you again. I hope our paths again, and that I can meet your wife, preferably under better circumstances."

"As do I," he agreed, "until our paths cross again."

He watched her go, making sure she was safe and out of sight before closing the door and locking it behind him. He sat on the edge of the bed and let out a long, wary sigh. He couldn't help himself from wondering what it would be like to kiss you in such a manner. Would you be receptive? Would you be eager and happy? Or perhaps you wanted to keep him at bay. Whatever life decided to throw at you both, he supposed he would discover your true desires soon enough.

For now, he had more pressing matters to attend. He was going to make sure Anders Yronwood knew exactly who he was dealing with. He grabbed the book he had been reading and tossed it onto the table before sliding back into bed and pulling the covers up and bundling up.

He quickly fell into a deep, restless slumber. He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, all of his thoughts drifting back to you. He wondered if you could feel it, all his warm and tender thoughts all the way back home in Sunspear. It was a comforting thought to know that you were both looking at the same moon and falling asleep under the same stars. It made the world seem that much smaller. It almost felt like you were there with him, at his side where he wished you were.

The thought alone of seeing you again, that sweet smile and lovely face, was enough to finally get him off to sleep. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

If Anders Yronwood was a gruesome and horrible overlord, his son Cletus was his mirror in every worse and still worse. It was a small solace that Cletus was not the heir to Yronwood, but rather that fell to his sister, Gwyneth. Oberyn had only met her on a few occasions, but he knew she was miles above the rest of her family. It was fortunate that Dorne did not follow the traditional customs of the rest of the Seven Kingdoms and only allowed male heirs. 

The Great Hall was bustling and loaded with rowdy people, causing an uneasy feeling to well up in Oberyn's stomach. It might have seemed lively, but once he looked closer, he could see that the only people having any semblance of a good time were the men of the keep. 

He rolled his eyes to himself as he grabbed a quiet seat at the end of the hall, attempting to keep hidden in the shadows. But it was no use - it continually proved to be a challenge when tried to pretend he was not the Prince when he was so easily recognizable. 

"Oberyn Martell," he was starting to hate the sound of his own name as Cletus took a seat next to him. He grimaced slightly as he turned to face the sudden interruption, "a pleasure as always."

"Cletus," he acknowledged, attempting to cut off the situation as quickly as he could. Cletus looked around and quickly flagged down one of the servants, waving her over obnoxiously as a nervous, vacant expression crossed her gestures.

"Go and get the biggest and best plates of food for myself and the Prince," he commanded as she refused to meet his eyes and nodded in understanding, "now."

"Are you always like this with people, Cletus?" 

"Only with people that deserve it," he leaned back in his chair and shrugged, clearly disinterested, "she's a kitchen wench. There's really not much to it."

"She's a person," a frown graced his features as he shook his head internally, "all people deserve to be treated with respect and kindness. What if she'd spoken to you in such a manner?"

"She wouldn't dare. I am her Lord-

"And yet still just a person," Oberyn snapped, "one who can be made to bend the knee with a single word from me."

Cletus remained silent as he stared anywhere but Oberyn's face. The silence was awkward and tense, easily cut with the dullest of knives. The Princes' fingers danced around the hilt of his dagger but he managed to stay his hand. One wrong move and it would cause an uproar. If it wouldn't have been such a risky move, he was half tempted to eradicate the problem then and there.

"Here you are my Lord, my Prince," the young woman had made a nervous return as she put two full plates of food in front of the men. They were overflowing with food that looked dry and sad and bland. There was so much flavor and spice available, yet this looked anything but. Oberyn thanked her gently while Cletus remained silent, "if there's nothing else, I'll attend to my other duties."

Before she could make her escape, Cletus grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to his level. She yelped in surprise as she tried to pull out of his clutches on instinct, "I'll see you in my chambers this evening. Don't be late like the last time or I'll have to punish you again. You don't want that, do you?"

"N-no, my Lord," she stammered nervously as he let go of her and she stumbled backwards from his tight grip. Oberyn's rage flared up when he spotted what appeared to be fading bruises along her shoulders and neck, "I will be there and on time.”

“Good,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand while Oberyn pushed his plate away. His already meager appetite had all but diminished. Cletus took a large bite, ignorantly unaware of the wrath that he had just brought upon himself, “you have to teach them...they’re not good for much else.”

“You’ve laid your hands on her,” it wasn’t so much a question as it was a direct statement. Cletus nodded lightly but kept shoving his mouth full of food, “you require her to warm your bed as well? How many others are there?”

“Maybe a dozen or so,” he shrugged, “we like to rotate through them. The one you were sent last night was one of the newest. A special treat.”

Unable to control himself any longer, Oberyn quickly pulled his dagger out and stabbed into the table between the two men, right near Cletus’ left hand. His mouth hung open at the action as he nervously looked at his Prince. 

“If I ever hear again of you touching any man, woman, or child in this castle, or anywhere, it will be the last time you do anything. You will not harm them, or require them to sleep with you,” he spat out as he grabbed his collar and pulled him close, “you will treat everybody, regardless of their position or station in life with respect. This is the Dornish way - the only way. I will have eyes on you and your family and your entire family. Do you understand me, boy?”

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“Oh,” Oberyn’s lips curled up in a devilish smile, “I would. Do you really want to find out what I will do? They call me the Red Viper for a reason - but I’m not afraid to resort to calling in the Boltons to flay you alive. My word is law around here and it’s time you and your filthy father learned to respect it.”

“You have no power,” he hissed nervously, casting a glance at the dagger that could have easily ended his life. The Great Hall had grown silent as all eyes were trained on the two men, “your brother rules.”

“Aye,” Oberyn nodded, “but it just so happens I rule too. I am the Prince of Dorne, boy, and Doran’s most trusted advisor. But again, if you want to take your chances…”

“Let me go,” he insisted in panic. 

“Remember where your loyalties lie,” Oberyn’s voice was quiet and dangerously low as he leaned in so only Cletus could hear him, “House Martell. We are your power - you will do as well say or your entire family can go off to the North...maybe even the wall. This is Dorne, and you will respect our way of life. A name and a title doesn’t keep you safe; not here. I will personally come and dole out justice if I need to. My nephew will be watching closely - one wrong move and I will hear it. You even think about touching as much as a hair on his head, you will have not just my wrath to fear, but all of Dorne’s. If I ever hear of anything like this again, you will rue the day. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

"Yes," he whispered quietly as Oberyn grabbed his dagger and held it to the man's throat. Be pressed just enough to make an ident into his skin but not hard enough to draw blood, "crystal clear, your highness."

"Good," he insisted before pulling away and shoving Cletus away. Oberyn sighed  heavily as he got up and started to storm away. Before he left the Hall, he turned around and held up his arms. Every eye in the house was still on him, "and let this be a lesson and warning to everyone here. If I so much hear a whisper or breath of anything happening that goes against the laws set forth by House Martell, you will face our justice. Here in Dorne everyone is equal and will be treated with respect and dignity. If you have a problem with that, feel free to leave or you will personally face my blade."

There was small murmuring of acknowledgement as Oberyn left the hall, standing tall and proud. As much as he hated flaunting rule or power over anyone, sometimes he knew it needed to be done; equality for all was something he was extremely passionate about. They were lucky in some ways, to have him as their Prince. While he could be firm and violent, he was tame compared to some of the other Lords and rulers throughout the Kingdoms. He might have been the Red Viper, deadly and dangerous, but he was also fair and just as long as no one tread on him.

As soon as he reached an empty spot in the hall, he leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh, hiding his tired face in his hands. He’d seen more than enough and was ready to be gone from this foul place. All he could think about was making it back home to Sunspear, back home to you. 

“Uncle!” Quentyn ran up to him, barely able to contain the little smirk on his face, “is everything okay? I heard the last bit of your little speech.”

“This place is dreadful,” he sighed as Quentyn nodded in agreement, “of all the places your father had to choose to sequester you, it had to be here. I understand his reasoning, and yet the idea still makes me ill. We’ll have you home soon, I promise. For now, I want you to be our eyes and ears here. I know it’s a lot to ask, but do you think you can handle it?”

“Of course,” he grinned and nodded eagerly, “I’m always excited to help however I can.”

“Good boy,” he pulled him into a tight hug before kissing the top of his head, “you make us all very proud.”

“My Prince,” one of Oberyn’s men found him, a concerned look on his face, “Anders Yronwood has heard of your little outburst and he’s not happy…”

“I don’t care,” Oberyn insisted, “if he has a problem with our rules, he can leave. My word is law. Now, let us pack up and be rid of this horrid place. I want to get home and back to my wife."

"I can have everyone ready to leave within a few hours," Oberyn gave him a thankful squeeze on his shoulder, "and we'll get you back home to Sunspear as quickly as possible, your highness."

"I am forever in your debt," the idea of you waiting at home for him was enough to cast a warm feeling all over his body. He was more than ready to see you again - to kiss you again - everything. If nothing else, his time in Yronwood had been enough to give him a sense of clarity and peace. He really did want to try with you, he wanted to see you. The revelation was enough to send him in a tale spin.

"Aye," he grinned at his Prince, "we'll get you back to her post haste. Besides, the Lady made us swear to bring you back home safely. She's eager to have you back, no doubt."

"I am eager to be back with her as well," Oberyn's grin threatened to break his face in half, "and back with some decent company. Until later then."

"Unbowed, unbent, unbroken."

"Unbowed, unbent, unbroken." 

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Three

Plumes of thick smoke billowed above the guard tower, blotting out the dusk sky with an ugly, brown smog. Burning red embers danced and flickered in the air, a single stray spark singeing Sasha’s right cheek.

Two girls stood, a dirt clod’s throw apart from each other. They stared each other down. The squeaky toy and Grime were already engaging in a battle of their own, leaving the two former friends alone on that tower. It did little to make the tension any less palpable.

Anne held her sword firmly in both hands, and the rage-filled scowl etched on her face made it clear she was itching for an excuse to ream the blade through her ex bestie’s chest cavity. The sheer hatred boiling inside her veins could not be overstated. Sasha, however, was a different story. She remained cool and kept both open palms raised, a sign of her peaceful intentions. Already a hard sell considering less than an hour ago, she’d ordered her flunkies to lock her and her family up in the dungeon after using and backstabbing her for the fifteen thousandth time.

She knew perfectly well what was at stake here. She knew the consequences not for them, but for this entire world if she failed. Convincing Anne to believe her now was going to be an uphill battle and the rematch she’d spent months prior fantasising about now seemed inevitable.

The irony surrounding both those things was not lost on her.

“Anne, I need you to listen to me!” she shouted over the hot gusts of wind whipping her face. “There’s something wrong with this Andrias guy! We should—”

Anne was having absolutely none of it. “You expect me to believe you?!” she asked her incredulously. “After all the lying and manipulating you’ve done?!” Sliding the sword back into its sheath, she turned her back on her in disgust. “Sorry, Sasha, but you’re out of chances.”

Why didn’t she take a photo? This would’ve been so much easier if she’d just thought to take a stupid photo! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Or maybe if she’d given Anne any reason to trust her.

The gates were now drawing close to slamming completely shut as Anne resumed pushing the lever. If Sasha squandered any more precious time, their fast-approaching army would be locked outside the city. She felt her twin swords weigh heavily on her hips; the tips of fingers twitched.

Whelp, in for a penny, in for a pound. She took a deep breath.

“I think Marcy’s in on it.”

“Yeah yeah!” scoffed Anne. “Blah blah bla—what?”

It was a hail mary that paid off. Anne froze in place and glared back at Sasha as if she’d caught her in the act of stomping on Domino’s tail.

“What... what did you say?” she asked, her voice fittingly ice-cold.

“Anne, look... I get it, okay?” Sasha gutsily stepped forward, closing the gap between them. They still had a glimmer of hope in ending this without a fight, so she knew she had to cobble her thoughts together and choose her next words carefully. “You don’t trust me a-and I don’t blame you, but I swear I’m telling you the truth. Grime and I found these—these weird pictures hidden in the throne room. They... one of them was showing the king with the music box. Th-then there was also something about Marcy’s family, I... I don’t know exactly what it all means...”

Amazing how they’d spent the past months going on wild adventures, escaping dozens of near-death experiences with the many monsters infesting the place, yet this was the one thing she struggled to make sound plausible. Of all the times for that natural charisma and confidence to falter. The way Anne was looking at her like she’d sprouted a third arm out her forehead told her it was going about as well as expected.

“All I know is we shouldn’t be giving either of them the Box. Not right now.” She finally lowered her hands back to her sides, adding, “Just come back to the throne room with me and I promise I’ll show you everything.”

A silence fell over the guard tower, punctuated only by the th-thunk of hundreds of armoured boots rising in the distance.

Now the ball was back in Anne’s court. She’d been rendered speechless by everything she’d been told. All she could do was stare the other girl square in the eyes. Dumbstruck.

Relief washed over Sasha as the tension appeared to simmer down, to the point she felt confident enough to move in closer, stopping when they were only feet apart. Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingers against her friend’s knuckles.

“Anne. Please.”

This snapped Anne out of her stupor. Reacting as if she’d been touched by something filthy, she broke her hand away from hers. Her expression turned on a dime from bewilderment to one of unadulterated hatred.

“... how dare you.”

Instead of withdrawing herself, Anne shoved Sasha away so violently it nearly sent her off her feet.

“I cannot believe I almost fell for that again! I mean, wow! Seriously, Sasha?! You’re gonna try and save your skin by throwing Marcy under the bus?! HOW DARE YOU!!”

Another jab to the breastplate silenced Sasha before she could respond. Anne was advancing on her dangerously, every step she took forcing her to back up. The only other instance she’d legit felt intimidated by her was back when she’d stood up to her at Toad Tower and even then, a secret part of Sasha was also impressed.

Now she’d touched upon what was already a frayed, raw nerve and it was scary.

“Let me tell ya something, Sash!” yelled Anne. A third strike nearly caught Sasha in the throat. “Marcy’s been more of a friend to me than you ever have! Marcy hasn’t lied to me! She hasn’t pushed me around! And she definitely hasn’t tried to kill my family! Unlike YOU!” She gripped the hilt of her sword, the menace in her eyes daring her to give her a reason. “She’s not only a real friend, she’s my best friend! And so help me, if you ever talk about her like that again, I will personally stick this thing right in your—”

The sounds of stomping boots and clattering armour had grown so loud they became impossible to ignore. Anne looked to her left to witness the sea of helmeted toads congregating outside the city walls.

How could she have let herself get distracted? They were coming. They were practically here.

“You were right; I am better off without you.” She hissed at her with so much venom it practically poured over her lips. “We both are.”

With that parting diss, Anne sprinted back to the lever. She had a job to do and she’d wasted way too much time and oxygen on this cretin already.

Sasha was left standing there stricken, feet glued to the floor. Anne might as well have slapped her across the face to achieve the same effect.

A determined scowl of her own soon spread across her features. You can’t say she hadn’t tried.

She drew the twin swords from her belt and assumed her dueling position.

“Anne, I can’t let you close that gate!”

“Oh yeah...?”

Anne roared, leaping through the air, sword unsheathed and aimed at Sasha’s head.

“JUST TRY TO STOP ME!”

Any swordsman worth their salt should know better than to leave themselves exposed like Anne just did. Sasha had a clear open to cut her in two instead of blocking her strike with both swords if she had so chosen.

To Anne’s credit, she wasn’t nearly as foolhardy as she had been when she first arrived in Amphibia. Right now, however, as they flew around the tower and did battle with the ferocity of dueling birds of prey, Sasha could plainly see it was Anne’s anger guiding her sword.

Anne was hostile, her moves unpredictable. Toad Tower didn’t have nothin’ on this. She wasn’t an exceptionally skilled fighter, neither of them realistically could be when you consider they’d both only first taken up the sword months ago. Still, there was underlying talent between them, and in Anne’s case, hers was currently being amplified by a seemingly bottomless well of passionate fury, which encouraged every last nerve to screw her courage to the sticking place.

She was actively going for the kill.

Narrowly dodging a plunge from her sword and, holding both her own in one hand, Sasha reached the other between Anne’s arms to grip her by the shoulder.

“Anne, stop this!” she begged through gritted teeth. “Marcy—”

“SHUT YOUR LYING MOUTH!!”

Anne freed herself by kicking Sasha in the chest with her socked foot. The collision of her unprotected sole against the metal breastplate hurt like all get out, but she wasn’t going to allow a trivial thing like pain stop her from taking a fatal swing at her opponent’s golden head.

Cat-like reflexes were what saved Sasha from getting scalped. If there was any hope in her mind that Anne couldn still be reasoned with, it was surely dashed now.

None of the paths leading out of this graceful dance of death were great. Simply keeping up her defenses and waging a war of attrition until Anne’s wild attacks inevitably tired her out wasn’t going to work. Whatever it was fueling Anne’s rampage, she didn’t look to be running out of it any time soon. Every parry, thrust and dodge drained a little bit more of Sasha’s stamina. She couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Frog knows she couldn’t rely on those toads to drag their warty butts through the stinking gate already!

Unless she was able to disarm Anne and fast, the only other option was to meet her viciousness in kind with expectedly grime results. Her training with Grime had taught her that every sword fight was already a potential life or death situation, regardless if you lacked the intent to harm, but however much they’d literally been at each other’s throats, Sasha was not prepared to have Anne’s blood on her hands.

An idea hit just as she arched her back away from a swing that easily could’ve taken her head off. Muscle tissue developed over years of cheerleader practice kicked into gear and in those vital seconds, Sasha flawlessly pulled off a handstand and kicked the sword out of Anne’s hand. The blade plummeted to the city streets below.

That should have been the end of it. With her opponent disarmed, Sasha felt the adrenaline rush sustaining her crash. Her lungs were on fire. Pink and Green suddenly felt ten times heavier in her damp palms. She truly couldn’t have gone on a moment longer.

Unfortunately, Anne was nowhere near spent. In an act of near superman-levels of varsity athleticism, slid behind Sasha, grabbed the hem of her cape and jumped over her head.

Before Sasha was able to register what in the ever-lovin’ Frog just happened, Anne had already tied the cape over her eyes. She barely even had a chance to flail like a dizzy ballerina when Anne’s fist smashed her in the face!

It was a blow powerful enough to send her spinning across the tower. She landed flat on her face, not an ounce of strength left in her muscles to pick herself back up. It was miraculous she didn’t black out then and there.

All that happened around her next was a mad din of noise. She made out the slam of what must have been Anne finally closing the gate. Then someone somewhere sounded a horn, followed by a voice she dreaded to hear more than anything else.

“Royal Newt Guard! Assemble!”

Oh Frog! They’d already freed the king! Anne must’ve sent the rest of her frog family or worse, Marcy to free him from his cell. She’d been so focused on stopping Anne, she didn’t even factor in what the others were doing.

Anne’s smug tone reached her ears, “End of the line, Sash.”

Sasha crawled up to the ledge on her belly. She tore the cape off her head, scattering it to the wind.

What she saw only confirmed her worst fears. Sprig standing atop a knocked out Grime on the roof below. Newt guards were rounding up her soldiers left and right; the tadpole’s giant robot was holding a bunch of them in its mechanical arms.

Then she saw her, a perky smile plastered on her face, shooting a ‘mission accomplished’ thumbs up at Anne.

“Oh no.”

[chaoticpuff17]

Something Wicked

part 10

masterlist

Jin had become a little less volatile in the following days, but he had become almost unbearably smothering when he wasn’t disappearing into his office to take mysterious phone calls. He always seemed to be touching her, kissing her. The man was practically glowing with excitement, and his excitement never boded well for her. She tried at least to enjoy the relative peace while it lasted. He hadn’t tried to initiate anything either. It was a relief for her. There was a lot she could put up with, mostly because she had to, but that was not something she wanted to give to Jin.

She had never like Kim Seokjin. He was not a good man, even before this, but now, she firmly believed that he was the devil. What else could he be? He was the subject of nightmares, the creature that mothers warn their children about. He was the monster her parents had warned her about. She should have gotten away when she’d had the chance. She should have quit all those years ago when she first realized how horrible he was to work with. None of this ever would have happened if she’d taken the job in the first place.

Her father had always taught her to try to find the good in any situation, but she couldn’t find any here. There was no good to be found in Kim Seokjin. In a way she was glad that her father was dead. She would have hated for him to see how far she had fallen. He’d always wanted a good life for her. Maybe if Jin wasn’t psychotic, and they had met in a different life one where Jin had wooed her like a normal man, he could have provided that for her. There was no chance of that now though. Jin had taken everything from her. He’d taken her freedom, her dignity. She had a sneaking suspicion that he had been behind Minseok’s demise. And now, he was going to permanently tie them together.

Jin had presented her with a ring as gaudy as he was, happily slipping it onto her finger gripping her hand a little too tightly for the gesture to be sweet. The large diamond was prominently sat in the middle of a platinum band with two smaller baguette diamonds on either side of the central emerald cut stone. It was a hard piece of jewelry to ignore. Every time she moved it caught the light drawing her eye down to the horrid thing. Jin was so proud of it. He declared it worthy of the future Mrs. Kim, but she detested it. Every time she looked at it, it made her stomach turn. She wanted to chuck it over the balcony and down to the busy streets below, but she refrained too frightened of what Jin would do to her if she did so.

He’d brought in a team of ladies to primp and poke her into the image of Kim Seokjin’s wife, as well as a team to groom poor Jinnie, but not before thoroughly threatening her. Jin couldn’t risk her asking for help. He couldn’t risk his image as Seoul’s golden boy. He was perfect, and his future wife had to be too.

Every time she thought of his dead eyed smile as he’d spoken to her, as he’d threated to kill Jinnie, to hurt her, a shudder went down her spine. It had been a struggle for her to keep quiet when the ladies had been there fixing her hair and doing her nails. Even if she had wanted to speak up, Jin was always there leisurely seated a few feet away giving instructions to the ladies. He wanted her to be perfect, his version of perfect. Her hair was styled to his specifications. Her nails were shaped and painted in a demure neutral color, because the wife of Kim Seokjin was to be a perfectly demure lady, and she hated it. She had never been a very vibrant woman. She’d always been a little softer, a little more neutral, but something about that fact that it was now being dictated to her made her hate it.

She was filled with the urge to take a pair of kitchen scissors and cut off all of her hair. She wanted to paint her nails a violent shade of pink just to spite him, but how could she? He was always there, always hovering over her shoulder. He was so thrilled with the idea of their wedding, and she had never dreaded anything more.

He was almost manic in his excitement. He was constantly bringing her wedding magazines forcing her to choose between preapproved flowers, colors, food. There was nothing that wasn’t already Jin’s choice, not that she really wanted to be involved in wedding planning. She knew what would happen once the wedding took place. She’d be legally tied to Jin in the eyes of the law and the eyes of the public. There would be no escape for her, not that there was much chance now.

She’d learned a lot about Jin during her captivity. She’d always known him to be meticulous, a perfectionist, but there was something about seeing him in all his psychotic glory that stripped her of all hope. He was almost obsessive, no, he was obsessive. Every detail of her captivity was planned just as every detail of their wedding was planned. There was nothing she could do to fight against him, not when he held all the cards.

“Hello, my darling.” Jin greeted her placing a kiss to her forehead. She was getting better at accepting his displays of affection, or she was had been well trained. Any rejection of Jin was met with violence so she kept herself calm. She kept herself gentle and passive just as Jin wanted her.

“How has your day been?” He asked sinking down to sit next to her.

“It’s been fine.” She smiled setting her book aside. She wasn’t allowed to do other things when Jin wanted her attention. Her focus was always to be on him. He was a narcissist at heart. Everything had to be about Jin. “Do you have anything you want me to look over?” She asked. Jin wanted her active and excited in the wedding planning, so she pasted on a smile and pretended as best she could if only to keep him calm.

“No, darling.” He cooed smiling gently as he played with her hair. “Not right now, we have almost everything decided. It won’t be long now.”

A thought she dreaded.  Marriage to Jin was the last thing she wanted, but it wasn’t as though he was giving her a choice.

“What’s that?” She asked looking at the file resting on his other side. If he’d brought it instead of taking it directly to the office, it had to have something to do with her.

He smiled picking up the file and opening it up. “This? This is your medical file, darling.”

She froze dread filling her. What could he possibly want with her medical records? How had he even gotten them? She wasn’t sure who to be more upset with, Jin or her doctor, but the likelihood of her ever seeing the doctor of her choice again was slim. It would probably be Jin’s choice from now on. He was an overbearing bastard.

“We’ll have to get your IUD removed.” He mused flipping through the pages. “We’ll be needing an heir, and that pesky little thing will get in the way.” He looked back at her gently brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “But we can take care of that after the wedding. I want to enjoy you before we have a son.” He leaned in nipping at her ear.

“A baby?” She whimpered doing her best not to flinch away from him.

“Of course, darling.” He chuckled trailing light kisses down her neck. “Mother and father are anxious for grandchildren as well. Seokjung won’t be much help to them in that regard.”

She stiffened even more at the mention of his brother. It was rare for Jin to bring him up. Not many people even knew the fate of the older Kim brother, but she had been working with Seokjin for years. She’d even met the man a few times, quite the feat considering how the family kept him away from the eyes of the public. The poor man wasn’t even mentioned with the rest of the family, not since the accident.

Kim Seokjung was set to inherit the company until there was a skiing accident when the brothers were in high school. Seokjung had ended up paralyzed from the waist down and had become effectively useless in the eyes of his upper crust family. He received the best of care, but his life was essentially over. Seokjin had risen as the only son and heir of the Kim family.

Of the two, Seokjung was definitely her favorite. He was a pleasant man, far more pleasant than the rest of his family and surprisingly optimistic considering the life he’s been thrust into. Assistants had no place in private family matters, but Jin had insisted on bringing her to the family home on more than one occasion, and that was where she had met Seokjung.

She first encountered him in the kitchen in the family home. To say that both of them had been surprised would have been an understatement. She had only been working for Seokjin for a year, and she had never heard mention of a brother, but they’d quickly settled into conversation seated at the little breakfast nook in the vast kitchen with a cup of tea that Seokjung had made for them himself. There wasn’t much for him to keep himself occupied now that he was effectively under house arrest by his own family, but he was excellent at making tea. He was also an amateur chef. She loved talking to him. The few times she had met him were the highlight of her time working with Jin.

One thing that never made sense to her was the accident. Both Seokjin and Seokjung were very athletic back in the day. Seokjin was still athletic. One of the things that the Kim family excelled at was winter sports. Seokjin preferred to snow board, but from what she had heard, Seokjung was quite the accomplished skier. They’d been to that resort hundreds of times. He’d skied those hills all his life. The conditions hadn’t even been bad on that fateful day, but something had gone wrong, so wrong that Seokjung no longer had the use of his legs. Now knowing Jin more, she now had to wonder if he had had something to do with the accident. She wouldn’t put it past him, not now.

“Wouldn’t that be nice, darling?” Jin cooed bringing her back to the present as he nuzzled into her neck. “A little son.”

“I don’t… I’m not…” He breath hitched as Jin nipped at her neck more harshly.

“You’re not what, darling?”

“I’m not ready for children.” She whispered trembling as she waited for Jin’s reaction.

Jin pulled away staring her down before a grin stretched across his features. “Not to worry, darling. We can wait a little before we start our family. I want to enjoy you first.” He purred nipping her neck again.

“No, Jin.” She whispered pushing him away gently. “I don’t want children.”

She had always been on the fence about kids. It was the biggest fight that she and Minseok had ever had. He’d wanted a houseful of them. She wasn’t even sure she wanted them. She’d never had siblings, and she’d cared for two ailing parents in her life. Kids had never really crossed her mind, but she knew she definitely didn’t want them with Jin. She doubted she had much choice on that either, but she had to try.

Jin frowned before pasting on an indulgent smile. “Two I think. Two boys. Doesn’t that sound nice, darling?”

“I don’t…”

Jin cut her off his smile becoming more strained, his eyes darkening. “You don’t know what you want, darling. That’s why you have me.” He pet her hair his tone taking on a condescending air.

“Jin…”

“My poor stupid darling.” He cooed pulling her up onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “How did you ever survive without me?” She grit her teeth restraining herself from snipping at him. She’d gain nothing from upsetting him even more than she already had. “Don’t worry, darling. By this time next week, we’ll be married, and you’ll never have to worry again. Daddy will take care of you.”

Yes, that was exactly what she was afraid of.

part 11

[mhevarujta]

The Darkling in Rule of Wolves [SPOILERS]

I have seen very different opinions about The Darkling’s arc in Rule of Wolves.

Many haters think that his sacrifice did not make sense for his character, especially since he did not repent.

Many of those who stan a romanticized version of the character have complained that his complexity was taken away and that he was vilified excessively.

So here I am, feeling the need to explain why I believe that he is still a very complex character and that Leigh has written him in a way that further what she’s already established for the character in a beautiful way that we rarely see in the genre.

In fact, I think that Leigh has no anti-Darkling agenda. She wrote him as a villain that is a series of contradictions and who has a great arc of existential crisis; an arc which leads to him fixing some of the damage he’s caused.

Most villains in YA either keep to their villainous goal, or are centuries-old men who, after being set in his ways for so long, conveniently have a rushed redemption arc and a change of beliefs that doesn’t make sense and feels like they have had a change of personality. Leigh managed to tiptoe between the two.

Some Themes That Make It Into  The Darkling’s arc in Rule of Wolves:

 POWER & SAVING THE GRISHA:

As always, we saw that Alina has an influence on him. He allowed himself to be more vulnerable with her because he saw her as his equal. But that influence is about the need of having his power and the life he endured be understood rather than romance. Both of them have experienced the greed that comes with THAT kind of power, but they always had an ideological conflict. Alina did not draw the line on personal sacrifice but she was always trying to help the people. She would sacrifice her life and her powers. He wouldn’t… Or would he?

In Rule of Wolves, Alina poses a question that he thinks he has an answer to: Why does he have to be the savior? What about everything other people have done for his country? His answer is ‘power’. If HE who is special, who has all that power, all that experience, then who is going to make a difference?

There is a contradiction here. This is a man who genuinely cares, but whose idealism is an echo of the caring person he’d once been. It has become hollow.

 The Darkling, by the age of 13, had changed hundreds of names and moved constantly, had been hunted by his own people, betrayed by people he’d tried to help and had to resort to self-harm in order to survive. That was when he promised he’d create a sanctuary for The Grisha.

And then he lived centuries of wars, betrayals and setbacks. He gave and gave until he had enough and went completely off the rails. His people were his aim, but he became so desperate that he crossed every line. He turned from a mentor to a puppetmaster. His was so fixated on the idea of ending the wars that he could not see that he was employing the same methods he was trying to end.

The more he lived, the more he left pieces of himself behind because he could not go on otherwise.

He thought that by ruling, by becoming king and weaponizing the fold, he would end all wars. He still wants to be the savior.

  BEING UNAPOLOGETIC & ‘NOTHING LEFT’

 Even when he dies, Aleksander does not repent, but at the same time he is very much aware of having committed atrocities and even during his last moment with Alina he does not apologize.

After all, that’s what he learned since he was a child. Baghra was his teacher and he was an apt pupil:

 His awareness of having crossed the line is obvious by the fact that he did not want a grave. He knew it’d be desecrated. Even though he was not sorry for trying, he knew that without having achieved his end nothing could begin to excuse what he’d done. He knew how hated he was.

There would be nothing left of him; no physical remnants, no legacy, and only one person to mourn the person he could have been. He leaves the world with this knowledge.

His true name is erased.

Being in his head, we see that, upon his return he is thinking of himself as Aleksander while using a different name (Yuri’s) once more. He is still hiding, and as long as he has to hide, the world is not as he wants it. As long as he’s hiding he can’t leave a legacy behind.

So based on what we know of his actions and of the way he’s loves, I think that

- the Darkling wanting to see Alina and to be understood by her, but being resistant to her morality and crossing her one more time to take his powers back,

- being accustomed to hardship and to biding his time,

-underestimating Nikolai and the triumvirate and seeing them as weak individuals instead of considering them as a strong unit,

- using Yuri’s name but still thinking of himself as Aleksander,

-taking advantage of the Starless to make his dramatic return while saving Ravka and gaining the people’s gratitude and worship,

-wanting Ravka to win and aiding Nikolai when because HE couldn’t win single-handedly and he didn’t want to lose but still thinking that, since the bells had been destroyed, HE was a batter option to lead.

are very much in character.

There are three major things about his arc that readers may consider to be out of character:

a)      The Darkling helping Zoya rise as a queen/

b)      Aleksander choosing to sacrifice himself to stop the blight.

c)       The public revelation of his name.

So let’s examine them one by one.

__________________________________

a)      Aiding the rise of the Dragon Queen.

Aleksander questions both Zoya and Nikolai. He considers them children, one two weak to embrace her powers when she could be among the strongest Grisha who have ever lived and the other too immature to use his political power for anything more than playing pirate. In fact he thinks they are ‘dangerous to him and to his country’.

 During the last battle Aleksander is forced to consider things that he hadn’t before.

One is the question Alina posed to him. Is HE the only one who can save them? The other can be summed up with Mal’s joke: ‘You’re rusty old man’.

 After he snapped and decided that he must rule and that he has to use the Fold, Aleksander pursued his goal single-mindedly. But war changed around him. People moved from swords, to guns, to bombs, but Aleksander’s power was constant, reliable. And then THIS was and Rasmus’ Hajefetla came. The Darkling thought he could give them victory but he HAD his power and couldn’t use it.

But even when everything seems lost, Nikolai fights and is ready to sacrifice everything. Slowly, the Darkling’s view of Nikolai shifts throughout the book.

He sees how Nikolai cares for all his people. How he was strong enough to embrace the monster and to make sacrifices and he helps him. But even then, after the bells are destroyed, he still thinks that he is the best chance his country has and steps back.

But the second miracle does happen. The Darkling had dismissed Zoya as a girl who couldn’t open her heard and embrace her power, but she opens the door. She saves the day both with her strength and with her mercy. She makes the show of power that The Darkling himself made to do and she exceeds his expectations.

And at that moment, Zoya could have been seen as a monster, a witch, all the things that Grisha had been hated for. So The Darkling chooses to give the push the people need; to be the one to break them out of their shock and push them to the direction that suits Ravka before anyone else does: ‘Sankta Zoya’.

And when he makes a stand in her favor when she gets accepted as a queen:

1) Even though I don’t believe he still thought of Zoya as a pawn at this point, I DO believe that he had realized how showing his allegiance might give him a potential opening to call in a favor if he ever needed it.

2) Helping her makes sense because even he would be able to see that a Grisha who has military, political and religious power and who has immeasurable power that could only grow gives Ravka its best chance.

3) He has the opportunity to further Ravka’s political stability while getting rid of the Apparat, whom he despises both because he betrayed him personally and because he is a rat who keeps endangering the Grisha and even Ravka as a whole.

He used all the influence he had left.

b)      EXISTENTIAL CRISIS AND SELF-SACRIFICE

Throughout Rule of Wolves, The Darkling goes through an existential crisis. He is trying to remain the same, to keep to his old practices, but by the end of the book he understands that the world has changed and he has to change in some way too. He does not have a complete change of heart. People are mostly set in their personality by their adulthood and a tiger easily changing its striped after centuries would be completely unrealistic. Neither are his crimes glossed over. But the reasons he sacrifices himself are woven throughout the story.

-A theme throughout the story is that we started in Shadow And Bone from ‘the age of Grisha power is coming to an end’ and went to ‘the age of Saints is upon us’. What is the main difference between Grisha and Saints? It’s faith. It’s the way the ‘saints’ are accepted and worshipped for their power and sacrifice. The Darkling wants to be loved. He wants for his sacrifices to be recognized.

In a single scene we see both his inability to adjust to the world he finds himself in and his need for his efforts to be recognized. Because he DID give his life for Ravka. He did so, from his perspective, when he was killed during the Civil War, but he also did by not having really had peace or REALLY lived his life since he was a child.

In the main trilogy he was bitter about the Otkazats’ya easily turning on Grisha. He was bitter about how Grisha were treated by the rulers of Ravka. The Grisha had to bow but the Saints are the ones that people bowed to. Faith is the only thing that may allow them to stop hiding. So he wants to be a Saint. He didn’t manage to earn it in battle, so he must find another way.

The Darkling approaches The Starless, but even as he tries to have more rally behind him he is disappointed in his new following. During his first POV chapter he says that he will “teach the world awe”. But it’s made clear that his is not enough for him. His followers BELIEVE but their belief is hollow. They are afraid of who he truly is, they barely believe in everything he stood for. They are awed, easily manageable, but they do not care about the Grisha. They do not care about Ravka the way he does. They do not see him when he’s right in front of them, making him want to scream that he is there, that he exists, and when one glimpses behind Yuri’s mask he sees ‘evil’.

What he wants is devotion because of what he’s tried to do, not blind faith. He feels unseen; faded. Moreover, he still hides while he thought he didn’t have to. Initially he thinks that he can finally choose to be himself and to reclaim his true name: ‘The oldest of them: Aleksander. He had no reason to hide his strangeness anymore. Saints were meant to live forever.’ But he falls into old patterns. He is ‘Yuri’; he is in hiding once more.

-The Darkling DOES NOT LOVE HIS POWER in itself. He loves the strength it gives him, the feeling of being special, but he does not enjoy the darkness, despite embracing the color black or having previously chosen dark rooms for himself.

“He wanted to be out of the darkness, back beneath the watery winter sun.”

“He only wished that it wasn’t winter. He wanted to turn his face

to the sun and feel it warm him. The cold frightened him now. It felt like

death, like the long silence of not being, without sense of time or place, only

the understanding that he must hold on, that someday, there would be an end

to the terrible stillness. He’d been a long time in the dark.”

Even in his previous life, he was mesmerized by the beauty of the world.

And now he has to face THE BLIGHT: A consequence to him coming back, which, based on the fact that it expanded THE MOMENT he used his power to kill one of his followers, is connected to him growing stronger and using his power. This power, which is similar to the Fold, is independent of him and untamed in the world and creates wastelands, ruining the country that he tried to save. In fact, it is compared to a vampire; to a creature that needs blood to be sustained. It destroys all the things that Aleksander dehumanized himself to fight for and all the things he found beautiful in the world.

Even when it doesn’t touch HIM, he doesn’t know why; if it’s because this plague recognizes something in him, or if he’s so ruined that it doesn’t have a taste for him. And both scenarios show an alienation from his power. His feelings of being whole because of his power have being tainted by something he had never experienced before.

And how could he, who represents the lack of stars, the darkness, be valued and not just feared? 

For the Starless Saint to become the people’s salvation the darkness that spreads across the land must be defeated by his own power of darkness, 

In the original trilogy the theme of the Darkling falling into servitude of his own power was touched upon. 

In RoW it was furthered. And Aleksander has made his decision:

Never again a servant; not even to his own power. 

 WITH THE DARKLING’S SACRIFICE:

1)      He saves Ravka and allows back into the world and into the fold all the colors and the light that he used to love about it. But more importantly, At some point he mentions that “human life is worth preserving. But human lives? They come and go like so much chaff, never tipping the scales.” By holding back the Blight he ensures that human life is preserved.

2) His arc of existential crisis is resolved because he finds purpose, which he lacked after seeing that he was not enough to win the war and to create by himself the world he had craved) and saves his country in a way that only HE could, even if that wasn’t ruling. The vision Aleksander, the forgotten boy, had is aided in a way that serves the vanity of The Darkling, the eternal being he became.

3) Leigh brings full circle the theme of balance. “You were meant to be my balance”, he had told Alina. But THAT assumption was SO wrong and presumptuous. It was entitled. But finally he makes a sacrifice to be his own balance and to control what he unleashed. He caused pain and he endures pain. He was responsible for the Fold and for the Blight and he counterbalances the distraction they brought to the land and stops them from threatening Ravka.

_________

c)       ‘MY NAME IS ALEKSANDER MOROZOVA’.

Some say that The Darkling publically revealing his name was out of character; probably because the only revealed it to Alina and did not want others to know it.  

So let’s have a throwback to what we know. 

As ‘The Starless’, the Darkling is the only unnamed saint other than the Saint of the Book, who has no memory. The theme of a name being essential to memory is constant throughout Aleksander’s arc

‘A boy’s name given up; almost forgotten.’

“It’s my own name I’m afraid of forgetting.”

In Ruin and Rising, The Darkling dying nameless serves a purpose. Alina gives him the kindness for not giving people a name to extol. He entrusted it to her and she does not betray that trust.

What I find interesting is that, in The Demon in the Wood, Baghra tells him:

He had given his name to Alina who, in a twisted way, was the closest person to his heart at that point, because he considered it his equal and in his twisted way.

To become a saint, to be worshipped, to save Ravka, to not be forgotten he has to share this piece of his heart; of himself. He has to let people read it. He considered Zoya weak because she was afraid of her heard but she was strong enough to ‘open the door’.

After living the way he did and making the choices he made, his heart can never open the same way as hers did, but this is as close as his character could come to it without Leigh glossing over all he’s done.

[kateis-cakeis]

Would Alivebur Join The Syndicate?

It’s been a question circling in my mind since Techno wrote out the manifesto. Because the Syndicate stands for something very important, not just promoting anarchy, but fighting tyranny.

In all its forms! Sic semper tyrannis. Thus always to tyrants!!

So, what does this mean for Alivebur? Well, his entire story is good to work this out. 

From the second he experienced tyranny when all he was doing was making drugs, to the moment he gave everything up, proclaiming that government was not the way to go... Alivebur was fighting against tyrants. That was always his role.

Firstly, I will examine what a 16th of Nov Alivebur would think, then, I will factor in an Alivebur with Ghostbur memoires. So, let’s begin!

To truly see what Alivebur would think, we need to dive into past quotes:

*Sapnap hands over some Blaze rods* “Oh yeah, you can't buy our peace from your tyranny.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 7:19, 29th July)

This is the first time tyranny is mentioned, and it’s in reference to Sapnap. After all, he was the one who arrested Tommy, he was the one who tried to stop them, who killed Tommy too. This is when we find out what angle Alivebur is going for - that what happened to him and Tommy was down to tyrants.

Here, Alivebur insinuates the only way to get peace is with revolution and independence. Not from tyrants buying him off.

“Look, Dream isn't our enemy, he's our neighbour. But, we are seceding from his tyrannical rule.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 57:34, 29th July)

This is the second time tyranny is mentioned, and the first time it’s directed towards Dream. Alivebur clearly had no beef with him, as he claimed he wasn’t an enemy, but he does claim that Dream is a tyrant. Which, considering what happened to Alivebur, makes sense. 

You can also see here that Alivebur didn’t want to fight, see:

“We don’t win wars with battles and with armour. We win wars with our words, Tommy. We’re starting a revolution, not a war.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 4:54, 29th July)

and,

“We don't wish for bloodshed, we don't wish for war, we don't wish to show our power in any way, we just want our freedom, we just want emancipation, independence.” - (Wilbur's The Revolution is Coming: 26:02, 2nd Aug)

Alivebur being all about peace is important. He never wanted to fight: 

“I’m not a fighter, I’m a writer.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 1:48:31, 29th July) 

But he was dedicated to fighting tyranny. He just, at first, wished to do it peacefully. And if he joined the Syndicate, he could push for that. Peace over violence.

“He's the one choosing to live with the enemy, with the people who conquered us for so long.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 1:29:57, 29th July)

This quote is in reference to Tommy choosing to keep his home, and being conflicted about having a permanent residence in L’Manberg. But it’s not that part I want to focus on, it’s what Alivebur believes. That Dream and co had conquered them ‘for so long’. 

You can see here that Alivebur had believed them to be tyranny for a long time, and that they had conquered them. This is important because it shows that Alivebur did indeed want freedom from them. To emancipate. 

The first Independence book is another important piece of evidence. Alivebur references tyranny a few times. Calling what the people of the Dream SMP lands did to them tyranny. Saying disregarding their independence is tyranny. Which further proves the fact Alivebur was fighting against that. 

But there’s a part of the Independence book that shows Alivebur could easily be open to anarchy, even back in the War:

It’s the second paragraph on page 5 that is important. The right of the people existing above the king, the government, and the economy. For this reason, it’s clear that even a Pre Independence War Alivebur would definitely be open to the Syndicate.

Moving on swiftly to the policies of the POG Party, tyranny is also mentioned there:

‘WE WILL NOT STAND FOR TYRANNY’. The fact that it’s in CAPS is an indicator that Alivebur was very set on this, and was always set on this. Even during the election. This was from an Alivebur scarred by the War and the Final Control Room. It shows he never backed down from fighting tyranny.

Which brings us onto the 16th of November...

“Techno, you've taught me a lot. You've taught me that government is not the way to go. And I agree with you. Everything you've said, I completely agree with you.” - (Wilbur's smithereens: 1:08:20, 16th Nov)

See... this was the first time that Alivebur directly stated that he agreed with Techno, and that governments were not the way to go. And this is possibly the most important quote here.

While it’s important to point out that Alivebur wanted to fight against tyranny from the start, from the revolution to his policies, him saying that he completely agreed with Techno is something else entirely.

What was it they called themselves... anarchy bros? :)

While Alivebur was focused on destroying L’Manberg because it ‘no longer existed’, he definitely was on Techno’s side. Saying that the both of them had won.

For this reason, Alivebur could not only join the Syndicate for its stance against tyranny, but also for its anarchy. After all, this is a guy who was a former President, a former leader of a revolution, the former head of a drug empire (for one day :P). He knows what it’s like to be on the other side, and in the end he chose no government. 

He’d be valuable for this knowledge too, but you can see why, in all his fails, it would be easy to draw Alivebur in with anarchy.

Nothing else worked for him, except that one time he truly won in his own eyes, on his own terms, when he turned to Techno’s anarchy.

So, the answer to the question is yes. 100% yes. For the anarchy he eventually agreed with. For fighting tyranny.

---

But

What about Ghostbur?

Now... an Alivebur with Ghostbur memories, that’s a different story entirely.

But is it?

Ghostbur, with his memories and his history books, knows things others have long forgotten. It’s his quotes from the 16th of December that are important to examine here, as it’s the only time he has specifically referenced ideals that Alivebur had.

Freedom. Being against tyranny.

It’s subtle in the way he does it. But it’s important, nonetheless:

“I’m going to go see this cage.” *starts singing the first verse of the anthem* - (Philza’s Just a regular day: 1:17:18, 16th Dec)

This is one of the very subtle quotes. He says he’s going to see the cage, that he said isn’t very conducive to a free environment:

Everyone’s free to do what they want, and live how they want. I don’t think cages are conducive to that environment.” - (Philza’s Just a regular day: 1:08:25, 16th Dec)

And then begins singing the first verse of the L’Manberg anthem. In which the lines include: ‘The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers.’ As if to imply that the cage was tyranny, suggesting that Ghostbur was still heavily against tyranny, but instead of fighting with violence, he was very surely using his words.

Ghostbur calling L’Manberg tyranny is further implied by the following quote:

“I just destroyed the cage, I destroyed the shackles of oppression, I have drained the bog- the mire of injustice, and I have found peace in a land of tyranny!” - (Philza’s Just a regular day: 1:19.47, 16th Dec)

Relating the cage to oppression, injustice, and tyranny, does indeed suggest that despite Ghostbur being notably different to Alivebur, the one thing that stayed constant was his hate for tyranny. 

The finding peace in a land of tyranny is interesting, as it suggests that was always c!Wilbur’s goal, peace from tyranny, as I referenced earlier. And my earlier point stands even more so with Ghostbur: If he joined the Syndicate, he could push for doing things peacefully.

However, if Alivebur gets Ghostbur’s memories, he may get an understanding about L’Manberg’s destruction he otherwise wouldn’t have, which could put him at odds with Techno and Phil.

But that also depends on if he remembers what Ghostbur may have forgotten. It is heavily implied he forgot his argument with Phil, but if he remembers it, then, this quote is important:

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I don’t want to have to hear what you have to say. I’ve read the history books, Phil. I’ve read the history books. You slayed the dragon, you slayed Alivebur. You are the St George of the Dream SMP. We understand, everyone understands that, Phil. But, look what you’ve done. How can you look at this and still see yourself as a hero. Sending a message, Phil. Sending a message?” - (Wilbur’s First Time Ghostbur Live: 17:58, 6th Jan) 

A long quote! I will admit! But it’s an important one. An Alivebur with Ghostbur memories, and this memory in particular, would remember the anguish, remember seeing Phil as a hero for his death, only to denounce him as that, because he was trying to send a message, something Ghostbur categorically disagreed with. 

Hell, even Alivebur didn’t do what he did to send a message.

And would an Alivebur with memories still be on Techno’s side?

“I gave Friend to Phil to look after. And Dream found me friend. And Technoblade, he said we were friends. See, people wouldn’t lie about that, would they?” - (Wilbur’s First Time Ghostbur Live: 9:36, 6th Jan)

Ghostbur was hurt. By Phil. By Techno. Even by Dream. And yet he asks that they wouldn’t lie, would they? So with this in mind, Ghostbur would not join the Syndicate.

But an Alivebur with Ghostbur memories? That is so much harder to determine.

With all the evidence, that Alivebur was dedicated to fighting tyranny, and was open to and sided with anarchy, that Ghostbur was still dedicated to being against tyranny, it seems very, very likely that regardless of what he remembers... a resurrected c!Wilbur would be up for joining the Syndicate.

However, an Alivebur with Ghostbur memories could very well choose another side that would fight against tyranny. If he felt too betrayed by Phil and Techno with his Ghostbur memories, he could turn away from them. But if he could move past that, if he talked about it with them, then with all he has said and done, he could still join.

So, for an Alivebur with Ghostbur memories... the answer to the question is... yes but no? It depends what he remembers, how he feels, where his loyalties truly lie. Hell, he could join Fundy instead.

All in all, with everything in mind, c!Wilbur as a whole, as unpredictable as he can be, is dedicated to fighting against tyranny. He agreed with Techno shortly before his death. And even in death, still believed that tyranny had to be challenged. That matters when it comes down to the Syndicate and makes him one day joining very likely.

[handonhaven]

Hi, I'm having more "why are they writing it like this???" Moments:

Considering how much of season 3 was just filler it makes no sense for them to have not written Landon's POV of the Prison World/Malivore arc in tandem to Hope's grief and fighting to get him back arc.

Similarly, why does Hope's humanity have to be off for her to track down Triad? It doesn't. They could have pushed that back a little and had No Humanity Hope terrorize her friends (and they have many reasons they could choose from for why she would do that, ranging from 'she knows they wanna help her so she's trying to get them to hate her' to 'she's pissed about the way they've been treating her and is calling them out') while, again, in tandem telling the story of Landon in limbo and him getting back (these two plots sharing the main focus as he can't get to peace even though he should since he's so good and her going down and dark path and feeling some sense of peace because her humanity's off, opposites, you know?)

THEN, after taking a few episodes for that, Landon comes back and gets her humanity back and she has to face all the horrible things she's done- things that prompted Triad to think she's a threat and wanna come after her.

Because currently it's what? Half of what Landons plot could be and this weird, boring running around Hope is doing? She's only implied to have done anything "bad" and we haven't seen her actually do anything. At least if she was actively harming her friends and innocents it would make more sense why her friends want to kill her.

Ugh, it just feels like nothings happened for episodes now when potentially so much could be happening with both her and Landon! It feels like the show is too hesitant to put him in the spotlight and since their stories are so connected, Hope ends up feeling like she's not actually doing anything. 😕

Hi! I’ll never get over how they wrote season 3. What they did with Landon’s storyline will never make any sense to me. I completely agree with you. Showing his storyline in the prison world and then while possessed and Hope’s storyline back at the school and her fighting for him at the same time throughout the season would have made the most sense, and would’ve been the most natural way to tell the story. That’s what I had expected. But instead, they threw it all away for the sake of temporary shock value and we still know basically nothing about Landon’s storyline last season.

And that’s so true! It really isn’t necessary to bring in the Triad storyline right now, or at least to have Hope going after them right now. They could have hinted at that storyline and started to build it up for later in the season, but I really wish they would just focus on no humanity Hope right now. Like with her terrorizing her “friends,” like you said. Or just doing whatever else she wants to without having to be on a mission, and for her to live up to this threat they keep saying she is. And exactly, she’s got plenty of reasons to go after her friends. She literally blamed Cleo for Landon’s death in the last episode and I feel like the rest of the squad all played a part in him dying as well. Plus them treating both her and Landon horribly. Or to just make sure they stay away from her and not try to help, like you said. But ooh yes, with Landon’s storyline in limbo happening at the same time and with those parallels about peace! I didn’t even realize that! That’s so interesting, they better start to really show Landon’s storyline at this point so we can be able to see both of their storylines play out at the same time, unlike last season.

Okay, but see, this is why they need help from fans to write the show, your ideas make so much sense! Because why does Triad even want to kill Hope? How do they even know she became the tribrid? It would make much more sense if they went after her after she had done awful things and had been drawing attention to herself and shown that she was a real threat and now a fully activated tribrid.

Yeah, exactly, we haven’t even seen Landon’s plot this season. He’s been in one episode and it was about friggin Ted and the other random guy whose name I can’t remember. And then we have Hope who, like you said, hasn’t actually done anything yet. I mean, they had her attack Alaric, which was a huge thing, but now she’s just chill? Also, the girl is gonna start desiccating soon, unless we’re supposed to believe she’s had blood offscreen? Why have they not shown her drinking blood? Why have they not shown her dealing with the bloodlust when she’s just turned? She should be out of control and feeding on people without anyone to help her control herself, especially with no humanity, which would be another way to have her actually being a threat. If she has some magical ability as the tribrid where she has control over that then say so. Otherwise, if you’re gonna have her activate her vampire side, actually show her being a vampire. Even though they’ve barely shown her wolf side, that makes more sense since that requires CGI, it’s tons more difficult to do. But they can’t even just put some fake blood on Danielle’s face to show us that Hope is actually drinking blood? It’s really weird. I thought they could even do something with having both her witch side and her werewolf side being heightened somehow from her vampire side too. Like with her magic getting out of control, her being even more powerful. I’d think with her werewolf side heightened maybe she’d have more anger, but maybe that wouldn’t do anything with her emotions being off. But there’s just so much they could do. They had so much build up but then don’t actually do much with it at all. And so true, if Hope was actually harming people, that would justify the squad or Triad or whoever else wanting to kill her. But all they’ve done is talk about how dangerous and threatening she is and that she needs to die when they’ve not actually shown her being that way, apart from what she did to Alaric. But she’s done nothing else since, so it makes no sense.

And same, it feels like nothing is really happening and the last episode didn’t do anything to progress the story at all. Fr, they could be doing so much with her and Landon! This is their time for their individual storylines and what have they done so far? Not a whole lot with Hope, her storyline is moving very slowly. And they’ve done nothing with Landon’s. They’re for sure too hesitant to put Landon in the spotlight, idk why since he’s the male lead? They neglected Landon as a character and his own individual storyline that was going on offscreen all season long last season. And now it’s already been 3 episodes of what is technically the real season 4 and he’s still only been in one episode with hardly any screen time. What is this. And true, his and Hope’s stories are so connected. And they could still maintain that connection and have their own separate storylines right now, but so far, they’re still not doing much with their own individual storylines either. I really hope that things will improve because there’s so much potential. Maybe it’s just a slow start and they’ll really get into their storylines in the next episodes. That’s what I’m hoping, anyway.