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jedimandalorian · 1 year

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Ahsoka Episode 6 “Far, Far Away”: The Story, the Symbolism, and the Score

Episode 6 of Ahsoka begins with the sound of distant purrgil calls as Ahsoka and Huyang travel through hyperspace, crossing the void between galaxies. During their discussion of the tales Huyang used to tell the Jedi younglings there is no music.

I loved that Huyang said such an iconic line in this episode, reminding us that this is indeed a fairy tale, a children’s story.

The Title Card for Ahsoka appears, and then the episode title, “Far, far Away.”

We hear ominous music when Sabine is in the brig onboard the Eye of Sion. The window to her cell is shaped like an upside down triangle.

The sinister music continues during the scene with Baylan, Shin, and Morgan on the bridge. Morgan’s Theme (the Nightsister theme) is heard when the Eye of Sion exits hyperspace.

The line “Peridea is a graveyard” reminds us that this is indeed a “descent into the abyss” a stage of the hero’s journey which I have discussed on this blog before. Ominous music plays here.

The characters who are aligned with the dark side are on a quest for more power to dominate others. They have followed the Path to Peridea as a kind of path to perdition as I have mentioned in my previous metas. But Sabine, our heroine, is descending into the Underworld on a more noble quest. She hopes to find her beloved Ezra Bridger, echoing the story of Orpheus, the hero of Greek myth who descends into the Underworld to find his beloved Eurydice.

Morgan’s Theme continues when they board the shuttle and descend to the planet Peridea.

The landscape of J. R. R. Tolkien’s Middle-earth is suggested by the giant statues and the Nightsister fortress, which resembles an evil version of Minas Tirith.

The characters encounter three Nightsisters, analogous to the Three Fates of Greek mythology, the Moirai. (Note the similarities between this word and the name of Ahsoka’s owl, Morai, a creature I predict that we will be seeing again soon.)

The three Fates were the personification of destiny in Greek mythology. The three sisters were known as Clotho (the spinner), Lachesis (the alotter), and Atropos (the unturnable, a metaphor for death). The end credits for this episode name these three Nightsisters as Klothow, Lakesis, and Aktropaw, clearly indicating the intended symbolism of these three characters. As George Lucas said back in the late nineties, “Well, when I did Star Wars I consciously set about to recreate myths and the — and the classic mythological motifs. And I wanted to use those motifs to deal with issues that existed today.” (From billmoyers.com) Lucas’ apprentice, Dave Filoni, has learned this lesson from the master himself.

The music is quieter in this scene, with sounds of low vibrations being heard. Morgan’s Theme continues when Sabine is imprisoned by the Nightsisters’ three orbs, which held her bound within a triangle made of red cords of energy.

Outside of the fortress three wolf-like creatures howl as ominous music plays. Choral music suggesting the mysticism of the fallen Jedi Order is heard as Baylan speaks of Peridea being a realm of “dreams and madness” from old “children’s stories come to life.” Once again, the viewer is reminded that we are being told a fairy tale, a myth. The musical score subtly teases the listener with three notes from Ahsoka’s Ronin theme in this scene.

Sabine is imprisoned inside the Nightsister fortress as the Chimaera arrives with the sound of ominous metallic rumbling. Thrawn’s flagship Star Destroyer was named after the female fire-breathing monster in Greek mythology which was part lion, part goat, and part dragon.

I am no Freudian, but the Chimaera’s open docking bay hovering over the phallic tower of the Nightsister fortress seems to be the most overtly sexual symbolism I have seen in Star Wars in a long time. However, I’m not here to discuss that visual metaphor.

Organ music which anticipates but does not present Thrawn’s theme is heard as the Nighttroopers muster under Enoch’s command. These undead stormtroopers have cracked armor repaired with golden seams suggesting the Japanese art of kintsugi, as well as armor pieces bound with bands of red cloth. They are heard chanting “Thrawn! Thrawn!” as the Grand Admiral makes his dramatic entrance. For me this chant was reminiscent of how the orcs in Return of the King chanted “Grond! Grond!” when using their mighty battering ram against the walls of Minas Tirith. (You can do your own Freudian analysis of that scene. I’m not going there.) What was Grond?

“Grond, also known as the Wolf's Head, was a one hundred-foot long battering ram with a head in the shape of a ravening wolf, used in the arsenal of Sauron in the Third Age. Though named for Grond, Morgoth’s warhammer, it was created in the likeness of the Wolf of Angband, Carcharoth.”—from lotr.fandom.com

Creepy music accompanies the Nighttroopers as they transfer of cargo from the catacombs beneath the fortress. What is inside them? Dead Nightsisters, waiting to be revived by dark magic?

Thumps and low pitched sounds accompany Thrawn’s conversation with Baylan.

Thrawn speaks of Sabine’s desire to be reunited with her long-lost friend. (The word desire is a very intentional word choice, with the connotation that the connection between Sabine and Ezra has potential to be more than just friendship.)

Sabine: I’m sure he’s doing just fine.

Thrawn: You gambled the fate of your galaxy on that belief.

Sabine: You wouldn’t understand.

Thrawn: Perhaps not.

Evil does not understand love and loyalty. (See my previous post about the Path to Peridea.)

Enoch returns Sabine’s weapons to her, and she is provided with provisions and a wolf-like howler for a mount. He tells her to “die well” as she embarks on her “fool’s errand.”

The line about a “fool’s errand” calls to mind this scene from Tolkien’s novel, The Return of the King:

'Tell me,' he said, 'is there any hope? For Frodo, I mean; or at least mostly for Frodo.'

Gandalf put his hand on Pippin's head. 'There never was much hope,' he answered. 'Just a fool's hope, as I have been told…”

“A Fool’s Hope” was also the title of the penultimate episode of Star Wars Rebels final season.

Once again, Thrawn’s theme is only hinted at by the organ music at the end of the scene.

Sabine’s scanner is destroyed during her fight for her life with the red-armored bandits in the wastelands. Her life is saved by her Mandalorian armor and weapons, Ahsoka’s training, and Ezra’s lightsaber in this action sequence.

Baylan and Shin ride out on howlers. Nighttroopers load coffin-like cargo containers onto the Chimaera as uneasy music plays. Thrawn decides to dispatch only two squadrons of Nighttroopers. His disdain for Jedi, light or dark, is apparent: “It matters not whether Wren and Bridger are killed or stranded here. The same can be said for your two mercenaries.” Ominous music plays.

The scene with Sabine and the howler is accompanied by gentle music played upon wooden flutes. Sabine processes her abandonment issues and her complex feelings for Ezra in this scene by taking out her emotions on the howler. “You. You abandoned me. I should have known you are a coward.” She tries to make the howler stop following her, but the loyal animal comes back as soon as she walks away. “Okay. Fine,” she says. “I’ll give you another chance, but you better not bail on me this time.” The gentle flute music continues. A motif of ascending perfect fifths suggests Ezra’s Theme.

The howler stops to drink water and sniffs the air. The thing that Sabine and the audience assumes to be a rock is revealed to be a sentient little hermit-crab-like creature called a Noti. Gentle music plays when Sabine kneels, puts down her blaster, and extends her hand to the creature. The Noti recognizes the Rebel Alliance symbol (an evolution of her own Starbird design) on her pauldron. The creature has a medallion of his own, marked with a similar symbol.

“Do you know Ezra Bridger?” Sabine asks, touching her heart. “He’s my friend.”

Ominous music plays as Baylan and Shin discover the dead bandits. Once again choral music is heard when Baylan reminisces about the Jedi Order.

It is also revealed that the Nightsisters are fleeing from a power that is greater than their own.

Baylan and Shin see the red Bandits in the distance. “The enemy of our enemy is our friend,” says Baylan, “for now.”

Peaceful and noble sounding music is heard when Sabine sees the Noti encampment. She smiles at the mother Noti rocking her baby in a hammock.

With Sabine in the foreground, the camera pans to show a now adult, bearded Ezra Bridger wearing a red robe and leaning against the wall of his home. “I knew I could count on you,” he says as joyful music plays, music which features the piccolo, flute, and other woodwind instruments.

The closed captioning for this episode says that there is captivating music playing when Sabine and Ezra finally embrace. We hear a beautifully orchestrated rendition of Ezra’s Theme on the French horn with a new countermelody in the strings to heighten the emotional impact of this long-awaited scene.

Ezra’s Theme is heard again when he says “Sabine, thanks for coming. I can’t wait to go home.”

When we return to where the Chimaera is docked with the Nightsister fortress, a suggestion of Thrawn’s Theme is heard at a quick tempo suggesting the urgency of the situation that is about to unfold. Ahsoka Tano is coming. “The thread of destiny demands it” is a line that further emphasizes the three Nightsisters playing the role of the three fates. We finally hear Thrawn’s Theme presented in an obvious way as the episode ends.

I have blogged about the magnificent end credits music in previous blog posts, so this time I am going to discuss something different: the alchemical symbolism in Ahsoka.

The central focus of alchemy was to transmute base metals into gold and create the elixir of life, as any aficionado of the lore of the philosopher’s stone knows. The process is a metaphor for the purification and transformation of the human soul to a state of perfection.

Three colors symbolize this process, black, white, and red.

First there is the nigredo (blackening) stage of the alchemist’s work, representing the breaking of the human spirit. This is where both Sabine and Ahsoka are at the beginning of the series.

Second is the albedo (whitening) stage, which involves washing away impurities or vices, and being ready to grow and learn again. This is most clearly illustrated by Ahsoka the Grey’s “death” and transformation into Ahsoka the White.

Third is the rubedo (reddening) stage, which is where we are in the story right now. It represents the purified and awakened spirit reaching its highest and purest form.

“The symbols used in alchemical writing and art to represent this red stage can include blood, a phoenix , a rose, a crowned king, or a figure wearing red clothes.”—Wikipedia.

The color red, of course, is symbolic of Nightsisters and their magic in this series, as well as symbolizing the red thread of fate.

Baylan Skoll’s line about having to “destroy in order to create” is an example of the alchemical concept of “solve et coagula” meaning to separate then join together. Nothing new can be built without destroying the old. Perhaps this is really telling us about the destruction and rebuilding of the Jedi Order.

In the completion of the rubedo stage there must be a union of sulphur and mercury, also known as the wedding of the Red King (the sun) and the White Queen (the moon). Sulphur represents the masculine principle, the soul, and the fire of life. (Remember Ezra’s red robe?) Mercury represents the feminine principle and the mind, flexible and changing. (Sabine is a clever young woman who lives inside her head, sometimes too much. Lately she’s been distracted by her heart.) Mercury also represents a state that can transcend death.

Is the much-discussed Ezra and Sabine hug the union of Sulphur and Mercury? Or should we expect something more than that?

Much has been written about Baylan Skoll and Shin Hati as the mythological wolves who chase the sun and the moon. This episode ends with the pair in pursuit of Ezra (sulphur, the Red King, the sun) and Sabine (mercury, the White Queen, the moon). When Skoll and Hati catch the sun and the moon, Ragnarok begins.

Besides sulphur and mercury, there is another element present at the rubedo stage of alchemical transformation: salt.

Ahsoka the White is coming.

Please reblog and comment on what you think of my musical and literary analysis of this episode of Ahsoka. I am looking forward to reading your replies.

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silenzahra · 2 months

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They keep saving my life ✨

Dear friends, I've been missing today because I've been trying to recover from last night's experience! I went to watch my favorite band live again and I'm not exaggerating when I say they saved my life once more 🥹 It's just what I needed to feel entirely good again! My beloved Estopa never fail to make me feel better, them and the Mario Brothers are literally keeping me ALIVE these last years and I'm seriously so blessed 😭

I'm not gonna repeat everything I said here as the repertory was essentially the same, but I do want to add a video and some pics, and also a VERY silly conversation they had (as well as something related to my writing). So keep reading if you're curious, and it's totally fine if you're not! 🥰

Still, I believe perhaps @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @stripetkattelalala54-gf @itsavee4117 would like this! Of course, if you're not interested, just let me know and I'll remove your tag! 💖

THE FOREHEAD TOUCH AT THE END. THE WAY THE CROWD STARTS SCREAMING WHEN THEY DO IT. People do LOVE seeing them doing it, me included of course, and I can only melt and CRY 😭 (Yes, you can hear me singing and screaming, I recorded this video myself, so surprise! Voice reveal 😂)

And the line they were singing face to face right before bringing their foreheads together...

"And I'm still here by your side until the wind blows me away."

... I'm not crying, I just got some brotherly love in my eye 🥲🥲🥲

Also, a few minutes ago I just ran into this pic, a close-up of THE moment, and I DIED again 👇

THEIR FACES. THEIR FOREHEADS. I CAN'T. These brothers are gonna be the DEATH of me I swear 😭😭😭

The fact that they're REAL. I just can't get over it. Mario and Luigi have a WONDERFUL bond and you all know I love them wholeheartedly, but the fact that Estopa are the real, actual personification of brotherly love? In our world?? Them having so much fun together and always showing how much they LOVE each other in every single concert???

Excuse me if I CRY but they're too PRECIOUS.

I just can't have enough of them. As you all know, they inspired me to write my musicians post, and also two of my WIPs that revolve around different things (the brothers on stage and Luaisy smut). They inspire me. They've been doing so ever since I became a fan of them, which, btw, happened exactly 18 years ago today! Man, I'm old 🥲

And the thing is... If you've been following me lately, you know I've been going through some hard times and I've been feeling down for a long time. So much so that I was unable to read... nor write. I'm still in the process of getting over my reader's block...

... but my writer's one might be coming to an end at last.

It's too soon to speak yet, but Estopa's music does inspire me, as well as their brotherly dynamic and their chemistry on stage. And yesterday, a few things happened that only gave me more and more ideas for that future story I wanna write with Mario and Luigi being musicians and performing together.

First of all, a very silly conversation:

"I am your brother." "Yes, me too." "... No." "Yes, I am your brother." "I am your brother, but you're my brother. I'm not my brother." "Of course, because I am your brother. You're my brother." "No, I'm not my brother, I'm your brother!"

I swear, me and my friend were just cracking up at the stupidest conversation EVER 😂 You can't tell me this isn't Mario and Luigi 🤭😂

Unfortunately... there were a couple of times where David almost fell off the stage 😅 The first time, I didn't even notice because I was further back, but I was a bit confused that he was standing still at one end of the stage when he's usually running and dancing here and there while singing.

And then... I saw this. Unfortunately it's an Instagram story which means it'll be gone at some point, but even though I've tried, Tumblr just wouldn't let me add a second video to this post 🤦‍♀️ So I just hope you can get to see it before it's gone, but it's basically poor David tripping and being about to fall off the stage 🥲

Poor man, I swear I feel SO BAD for him 😭😭😭 All I wanna do is run and help him through the screen! Thank God he handled it and didn't hurt himself but I swear I SCREAMED when I saw this 🥺

On a brighter note though... the second time was hilarious and he didn't hurt himself 🤭 To give you some context, it turns out there was a famous artist among the crowd watching the concert. His name is Dani Martín and he's friends with Estopa. They actually sang one of Estopa's songs together a while back, and when they started playing it last night, David suddenly noticed his friend...

... And he jumped off the stage to go sing with him! 😂😂😂

The moment his butt literally kisses the ground, I'm so DEAD I swear 😂😂😂 You just CAN'T convince me Mario wouldn't do something like this if he spotted, I don't know, Geno, maybe? 🤭

They're so friendly I swear! This was such a big surprise, and my friend was elated because she's also a big fan of Dani Martín! So it was really so great they did something like this 🥹 David jumping to bring him on stage and Jose ceding him his mic, they're just so nice and pure 😭

Anyways, as I said, the rest was very similar to the concert in Sevilla I attended back in June (only that this time I was WAY closer and I couldn't believe it 🤩), so I'll just add that I've been sharing some videos of the concert on my Instagram stories, and I'll probably share a few more tomorrow as I recorded a lot 🤭

Also, my friend sent me the videos she recorded and her phone has such a higher quality than mine! So yeah, those are coming to my insta stories tomorrow too 😂 Just in case you'd like to see said videos, here's my Instagram account! I'm saving them all on the higlighted stories called "Estopa Chiclana" btw, so they're gonna remain there no matter what 🥰

And to say goodbye, here's an AMAZING pic my friend took at the beginning of the concert and that has become my new lockscreen! 😁🔥

It captures their essence SO WELL and it gives me so many ideas for Mario and Luigi! 🥹❤️💚

#zahra's posts #Estopa #Spanish band #inspiration #Mario and Luigi Musicians #my writing #silenzahra

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7-wonders · 2 years

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Of Jack-o'-Lanterns and Misperceptions

Summary: You carve pumpkins with two of Dream's sisters in the Dreaming!

Word Count: 1.2k (just a short lil thing!)

A/N: If you haven't read the comics, all you need to know about Delirium is that she's the baby of the family and I would protect her with my life.

The Dreaming is home to many odd and fantastical situations that one wouldn’t normally see in their day-to-day life. But even in a land like the Dreaming, seeing the little group that’s diligently working around a table that’s been set up in Fiddler’s Green gives inhabitants pause. One inhabitant in particular, upon coming across the scene, begins to fear for his life.

“Look kid,” Merv says nervously, putting his hands up in the air as if in surrender, “I don’t know what I did to make you hate me so much, but you didn’t have to show me in such a brutal way.”

You laugh, just barely glancing from your careful knife work to the pumpkin-headed man standing in front of you. “C’mon Merv, surely you know that carving pumpkins is a Halloween tradition!”

“Tradition or not, give a guy a little warning next time before you go around driving a knife through the same thing his head is made of.”

“To be fair,” the dark-skinned woman sitting across from you interjects, giving you a wink, “this was initially my idea.”

Merv groans. “Great, Death’s got it out for me.”

“Do you want me to try and make one that looks like you?” you ask, attempting to butter him up.

He pauses to consider this before begrudgingly leaning against the table. “...Yeah. Give it your best shot.”

It still tends to give you pause when you think about the fact that your boyfriend’s sister, the literal anthropomorphic personification known as Death, is friendly with you. Even when you meet up with her in your world, the Waking, you sometimes do a mental double take when you realize that you’re sitting in a park or enjoying a coffee with Death. The woman has made an effort to try and be a friend to you since you’re in a relationship with her brother – something you very much appreciate, considering there is a whole lot you don’t understand about that which you had believed to be fake until only a few months ago.

In fact, it was Death who had suggested this little project. She had popped by your home one night to say hello while you were watching Halloween, and had remarked how much she loved the movie. Though she couldn’t stay long enough to watch the movie in its entirety with you, you did both launch into a conversation about Halloween and everything enjoyable about it. She had mentioned how she loved to carve jack-o’-lanterns back when they were still made of turnips, and then a devious smile spread on her face before she asked if you enjoyed carving pumpkins.

That’s how you ended up here, in your lover’s domain, dragging a knife through a pumpkin and trying your hardest to beat Death in designing a jack-o’-lantern. How strange your life has become in recent months.

When Death looks up from her pumpkin and smiles, you already know who she’s looking at. Though you have no powers of your own, you can still feel Dream’s presence whenever he’s around you. When he places his large hands on your shoulders, you crane your neck around to look up at him with a grin.

“Hi, Morpheus,” you greet.

Morpheus, as is customary whenever he sees you (a true romantic, he is), kisses you softly. “My love.”

From across the table, Death makes a noise of endearment. “You two are just so cute, sometimes I cannot stand it!”

His lips twitch into a small smile, the most emotion he’ll show around his beloved sister. “Hello, sister.” Dream almost does a double take before amending his greeting. “Hello, sisters. Though I am pleased to see you both, I cannot help but be unsure of when it is that I invited you to my realm.”

“You didn’t,” Death says with a smirk. “Y/n did.”

You smile at Dream sheepishly. “We wanted to carve pumpkins, and this was the easiest place for Delirium to find.”

Delirium, the youngest sibling of the Endless, is currently staring intently at her pumpkin with her tongue poking out of her mouth as she draws on it with a marker. Nobody questions what it is she is attempting to accomplish.

“You are…carving pumpkins,” Dream observes, as if you didn’t just tell him what you’re doing. You share a look with Death over the table when he’s not looking, as if to say ‘men.’ “Why?”

“Because it’s almost Halloween!” you say cheerfully. “Surely you’ve seen jack-o’-lanterns in people’s dreams before.”

“I have. Though, I believe they were turnips and not pumpkins.”

You laugh. “Your sister told me the same thing, but that was also, like, two hundred years ago. You really need to get out more.”

“You wanna carve one, little brother?”

Morpheus shakes his head politely before sitting down next to you in a seat that he conjures from thin air. “I am more than content to just watch, thank you.”

And watch he does, though you think he watches how you interact with his sisters more than he watches the actual pumpkin carving. You can tell that this simple act, of you spending time with his blood, means a lot to him. If anybody has a complicated family, it’s the Endless. You know that they haven’t always been on the best of terms, even he and Death, and so it’s important to you that you accept his family as you’ve accepted him.

Though, you do still find it difficult to spend time with Desire, since they’re very conniving and just not a very good person. You’re working on it, though.

“I’m FiNiShEdDdDdD!” Delirium finally trills before turning her pumpkin around with her delicate hands to face you. “WhAt Do YoU tHiNk? ShE lOoKs LiKe ShE wOuLd MaKe A gOoD fRiEnD!”

She’s carved the features of a jack-o’-lantern’s face over and over again, creating a pumpkin with mouths, noses, and eyes that are in a variety of positions they are not typically found in and sideways or upside-down. After studying it for a moment, you look up and grin. “Looks great, Del. Want me to put a candle in it so that you can see it lit up?”

Delirium squeals and nods, her red curls bouncing around her face. When you place one of the electric tea lights inside the pumpkin and turn it so that she can see her masterpiece, she claps her hands together in excitement. Butterflies and tiny fish fly around her, the visible manifestation of said excitement. “I lOvE iT! dOn’T yOu ThInK iT lOoKs FaNtAbUlOuS, dReAmY? dEaTh?”

“It looks wonderful, sister,” Morpheus dutifully says.

“Fantabulous, indeed,” Death adds.

As Delirium chatters on about pumpkins and pumpkin pie and oh, the time that she found herself in a giant pumpkin with mice like Cinderella, Death listening good-naturedly, you glance over to see Dream watching you. You smile at him and kiss his cheek.

“Sorry for not asking before inviting your sisters into your realm.”

“Do not apologize. I find myself glad that you are on good terms with my sisters.” He lays a hand on top of yours. “Thank you for being so open to spending time with them. It means a lot, not only to them, but to me as well.”

“I like Death and Delirium. They’re fun to hang out with. Plus, they tell me embarrassing stories about you.”

He smirks. “Ah, so that’s been your plan all along?”

“It’s a fun, unexpected little perk.” You look over at Merv before looking at your pumpkin, making sure you’ve got his left eye just right. “Now, care to watch as I recreate your janitor on an inanimate pumpkin?”

As expected, Dream does more of watching you than he does watching the actual carving. Not that you mind, though.

#dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #morpheus #the sandman #the sandman imagine

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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My Beloved Nymph (9) (End)

[modern! club owner • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: kissing, sex content, giving birth, so much fluff]

[description: Aemond is the owner of the club, his girlfriend is the younger sister of his business partner. This story is a continuation of the series "My Best Friend", which you can read here: Part 1. This story can be read on its own. Aemond has serious intentions for his girlfriend and is slowly putting them into practice.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond and Y/N decided they wanted to get married in secret. They wanted it to be just their moment, in a small wooden church outside the city. The only people who knew about it were Klaus and Helaena, whom they had chosen as witnesses. They stood before the priest who read their oaths, holding hands covered by a piece of his robe.

Y/N was dressed in a beautiful white dress with embroidered white folk motifs and a deep, cut-out neckline. The dress had long, sheer sleeves, and her long hair was partly pulled back into a bun with daisies flowers pinned to it. The engagement ring, the second one she had received, gleamed on her finger. The gemstone, framed in gold, was a sapphire that gleamed wonderfully in the light of the stained-glass windows.

Aemond stared at her, thinking she was indeed a nymph, the personification of the spring goddess, who had stood before him, who had come into his life that seemed like eternal winter and made everything bloom anew with him. Looking at her, he felt calm and warm. She was like the sun on a summer morning when the cool breeze of the night still surrounds you. Her presence brought him constant relief.

They swore before God all that they had repeated to each other many times behind closed doors. Now they felt that they were participating in a sacred rite, that their lost souls would find each other after death and be reunited with each other forever. When it was over, Aemond kissed her deeply and lingeringly, feeling he was the happiest man on earth.

Aemond rented an apartment for both of them in a noble manor near their town. Every time they drove past, Y/N would say how much she wanted to see what was inside. They had a nice dinner on the terrace, overlooking the lake, talking nonsense, looking at each other with eyes that said it all. Aemond thought then that part of him was grateful to Albert for what he had done. That if it wasn't for him, Y/N would never have spoken to him that morning, never opened up to him.

Afterwards, they returned tired to their apartment, which was spacious, its windows overlooking the beautiful forest opposite. Aemond looked at his wife and saw that she blushed as she looked down. She knew what he was thinking.

He approached her slowly. He thought he wanted to take her like this, in that gown. Like in the story he wrote for her. That's how he'd always seen her, that's what she was to him. The personification of beauty. He kissed her passionately, and she moaned loudly. She wanted him to undo the buttons on her dress, but he stopped her.

"No. I want to take you in this dress." He said, taking her hand and leading her towards the door. She stared at him in surprise as they made their way down the back stairs and to the door. It was late at night and it was dark all around. They went outside, Y/N walked barefoot on the wet grass, there was no living soul around them. She saw her husband leading her towards the lake and gasped.

They settled near the shore, on the grass, the water pleasantly splashing, the sounds of reeds and grasshoppers all around them. Stars and the moon peeked through the small clouds, partially illuminating them. Aemond looked at her and cupped her cheek. Her lips quivered, she already knew what he wanted to do. He pressed his nose to her cheek, tracing it over her skin, Y/N exhaled softly, feeling her wetness trickle down between her thighs in anticipation.

"Lie down on the grass." He spoke calmly and matter-of-factly, but she could hear his breathing quicken, his eye unable to hide his excitement, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. Y/N obediently did as he was told, not even thinking about the fact that she would probably get all dirty or someone might see them. Her lips were parted in desire.

Aemond took off his jacket, leaving him in only shirt and trousers, knelt in front of her and grabbed her legs. He spread her thighs, pulling her dress up. With a light movement, he took off her underwear and laid it next to him, undoing the belt of his pants himself. He stared at her darkly, his chest heaving in an uneven rhythm, his mouth parted.

"My Leana. God, I want you so much." He sputtered helplessly, and she felt something tighten in her throat, she felt like she was about to cry. What he did for her was so beautiful, that she felt that her heart would burst from the excess of feelings.

"My Emanor." She whispered and a single tear rolled down the side of her face. She drew in a ragged breath, her hands placed on either side of her head. Aemond leaned over her, looking at her anxiously.

"What happened, my love? Do you want me to stop?" He asked quietly, and she shook her head quickly, unable to utter a word. Her lips brushed his lips lightly, barely touching them. They caressed each other for a while, moaning softly, stroking their cheeks with their hands, enjoying each other's scent and the moment that seemed like a fairy tale.

"Spread your thighs wide." He whispered in her ear. "Let me possess all of you."

Y/N obediently did as he said, everything inside her clenched with excitement, she was all wet. Aemond ran his cock against her entrance and moaned low, as he felt how much moisture drained from her insides. He was throbbing all over, feeling that he wouldn't last long. Y/N threw her head back as she felt his tip slid into her a little, caressing her, pushing deeper with each thrust.

"I beg you, do it, take me for yourself" She whispered. He groaned at her words and entered her deeply, all the way, starting to move inside her involuntarily, he was no longer able to control his movements. Her cunt tightened on him mercilessly, intensifying his sensation. Aemond sped up and they both gasped loudly, seeking their own fulfillment.

He took her as if it was their first time, as if he had never touched her before, as if he had dreamed of her for many years. He watched her squirm beneath him, and he wanted to cry himself with lust, passion, and love. There was just her, her wedding ring glowing in the moonlight, her moans and misty eyes driving him insane.

"You're mine. Before the God, before the stars, before the world. Do you understand?" He hissed dangerously and she moaned loudly in response, the way he said it sent shivers down her spine. She felt her orgasm close, her insides tightening on his cock. Her hands tightened on his buttocks, impaling on him, both of them gasping as they stared into each other's eyes.

"Yes, Emanor, my beloved husband, take what is yours, take me and leave me nothing" She sputtered pleadingly, her words causing him to thrust her brutally several more times on the spot that gave her so much pleasure and she came hard, throwing her head back backwards, literally squeezing his semen into her. Aemond moved inside her for a moment longer, unable to stop, gasping her name, and she moaned softly beneath him. He finally collapsed on top of her, pressing his nose against her cheek.

Y/N began to sing softly, stroking his hair. She sang a childhood lullaby that her mother used to sing to her when she couldn't sleep. As he wished, Aemond fell into a blissful, peaceful sleep beside her. Even though they woke up soon after and went back to their room, not wanting to catch a cold, it was the most beautiful night of their lives.

***

Aemond lay beside his wife, his face pressed against her huge belly where his baby was writhing. A year after the wedding, they decided that Y/N would stop taking the pills. Eight months later, she found out she was pregnant.

Aemond decided it was time to relocate as their family was about to get bigger. As promised, he was looking for a home for them outside the city, somewhere they could retreat away from prying eyes. He took her on a few visits to different places, but nothing really convinced her. It wasn't until they reached the ivy-covered stone cottage with its beautiful old shutters, that he saw the twinkle in her eyes.

An old wooden kitchen with a tiled stove, a bookcase and beautiful old wallpapers made her fall in love with the place right away. Aemond found that this house was also his favorite of all. After negotiating with the seller, he bought the house and they could slowly move in.

Aemond ordered a large kennel for Vhagar so she could run around the garden and feel free at last. Aemond suspected she had a year or more to live, and he wanted to give her the best. One of the rooms has been prepared for a child. They knew it would be a son. Aemond was thrilled at the thought of holding his own child. He vowed to be a better father than Viserys. That he would believe his son, support him and be there when he needed him.

Y/N went into labor suddenly, standing in the kitchen, her cup of tea dropped from her hands as she felt a contraction and her waters drained. She clutched her stomach and screamed loudly in pain, and Aemond, terrified, rushed her straight to the hospital. It was still a few weeks too early.

It broke his heart to see how much she cried, afraid that the baby would die before they got there. He was just as scared as she was, and he wanted to cry just as much.

When they arrived, she was immediately taken to the labour ward. Aemond called Klaus and his mother to let them know what was going on. Klaus arrived ten minutes later, Alicent along with his sister and brother shortly after. Viserys was already having trouble walking and stayed home, not wanting to slow them down.

"How is she? What happened?" Klaus asked, horrified. Aemond shook his head.

"I don't know. She just suddenly collapsed and went into labor." He said, his mouth twitched, his eye red. His mother came over and hugged him tight, and he hugged her back, needing any comfort. Klaus ran a hand over his face, broken and pale, as if he was about to cry himself.

Aegon brought them coffee from the machine. He gave up therapy halfway through, still drinking, but at least he stopped going to brothels. He still slept with random girls he met, but at least he got himself together enough to work normally for their father and fulfill his company duties. He walked over to his younger brother and handed him a cup.

"She's a strong girl. Now in incubators they are able to support much younger children. Everything will be fine." He said, trying to sound neutral, but Aemond was surprised by his words. They looked at each other and nodded.

Helaena stroked his back as they sat tense in the waiting room. Even though he wanted to, the doctors wouldn't let him go inside. They decided to have a caesarean section, fearing for the baby's life.

After an hour, the doctor left the operating room, taking off his mask and gloves. Aemond stood up at once, terrified.

“The mother and child are alive, but your wife is very weak. Her body didn't take the surgery well." He said, and Aemond walked past him, going straight to the room where she lay. Despite the woman holding his baby beside him, Aemond walked over to the bed and grabbed his wife's hand. Y/N was all pale, her eyes barely open. Aemond touched her cheek, turning her face toward him.

"I am with you. Be brave for me." He said in a shaky voice, a helpless tear rolling down his cheek as he kissed her hand. Y/N pressed her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

Fortunately, after a few days of medication and careful observation, she began to recover. Aemond had been with her in the hospital all these days, sleeping on the couch next to her, never leaving her side. Sometimes when he needed a bath or something to eat, Klaus took his place, watching over his sister like a watchman.

Their son was in an incubator. When Y/N had enough strength to get up, they went there together. She burst into tears seeing how tiny their son was. Aemond pulled her close to him and they stood there, embracing tightly, his lips kissing her hair once in a while.

"He's so tiny." She said softly and sobbed. Aemond held her tight against him.

"He will survive. You'll see."

***

Aemond was so stressed out by all these events that he remembered that their baby didn't have a name yet. They agreed at first that depending on whether it was a boy or a girl, either she or he would choose a name. It was a boy, so Aemond was to choose the name - of course, his wife had to approved his choice.

"Luke." He finally said and Y/N looked at him surprised.

"What?"

"Luke. Lucerys. That will be my son's name." He said calmly and looked at her confidently. His wife swallowed softly. A lot has changed in him since he went to therapy.

During one of the family events he took Luke aside and they talked alone in his room for several hours. Everyone was afraid of what was going on there, but no one wanted to interrupt them.

When they both came out, they looked like they had been through a marathon, all pale, their eyes were red, as if they were both crying. Their relationship has been good ever since. They didn't talk to each other much, but at least they didn't interact with each other like before.

“I want to come to terms with my past and move forward. Make that name go from being hated to one of my beloveds, after my wife's name." He said kissing her hand. Y/N smiled widely and accepted his choice.

Aemond was an exceptionally tender and caring father. He assisted her in all activities, taking the strain off her while she was still recovering from the surgery. She was on maternity leave because she had finished her studies and took a full-time job in the library.

The boy who had tried to date her gave up when Aemond once caught him in a university hallway and threatened to kill him with his own hands if he approached his wife again.

The baptism date they had set for themselves was slowly approaching and godparents had to be chosen. Her choice surprised him.

"I want Helaena to be our son's godmother and Marcus to be our son's godfather." She said calmly, her husband looked at her surprised from above the book. He just nodded, not questioning her decision in any way.

Both their families and friends had gathered at the church for a christening. Little Luke squirmed in his mother's arms, unable to sit still, everything aroused his interest. He had his father's blond hair, but his mother's sea-colored eyes. Aemond took him from her, seeing that it was getting harder for her to hold him.

"Give him to me, because I can see that he's getting emotional." He grunted, taking his son from his wife and looking at him. Luke immediately grabbed his eyepatch, as always, and he had to hold his hand to stop him. Luke squeaked loudly, dissatisfied.

Marcus walked over to Y/N, smiling warmly at them, looking at their son with joy in his eyes. He tickled his cheek with his finger, and Luke squealed again, this time with pleasure.

"Thank you for this honor." He said, turning his gaze back to Y/N. "You have added another person to my life that I want to live for." He said with a slight smile.

Marcus was still in therapy and looking much better. He had a drug addiction problem. To her surprise, he and Aemond called each other often, not just for business matters. They established some strange, masculine, friendly and cooperative relationship that she did not fully understand.

Marcus sometimes came to their house to visit his godson. Luke sat calmly on his lap, biting fiercely at the toy he had just given him. Marcus has become involved in helping rape victims in the courts, giving them free legal advice on certain days of the month.

The four of them were sitting in the garden, birds were singing around them, Vhagar was spread out under the table. Since Luke birth, she has been close to him and always slept by his cradle.

"Who would have thought you'd be so settled down with a baby and a home." Marcus laughed, looking at Luke, who had just started babbling something to him in his unintelligible language. He glanced at them, smiling calmly at them. "It's good to have friends like that."

Y/N smiled widely at him and looked at her husband. His hand gently stroked her thigh under the table. She placed her hand on his. He glanced at her and hummed softly in contentment. None of them had ever been so fulfilled in their lives before.

_____

Guys, thank you so much for all your words of support and this whole journey. This is the first story I've ever published! I did not expect such a response and your involvement in history. I am very happy with this chapter, I put everything I wanted in it. Now we're on the road with our demons from A Winter Beauty, and I'm already working on another story with Aemond. If you want to keep up to date, here's my Masterlist. 🥵🔥💖😵

If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ~

@chainsawsangel @yentroucnagol @cardi-bre91 @melsunshine @bellaisasleep @candypurplebutterfly @malfoytargaryen @serrhaewin @svtansdaddyx @iiamthehybrid @beiigegalx @sarahkimtae @fangirlninja67 @namoreno @thetrueblackheart @opheliaas-stuff @zenka69 @namelesslosers

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proosh · 5 months

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what was that about gil having dreams about the future? (no pressure!)

Oh anon my beloved thank you so much; I dropped that little tidbit into that post hoping someone would ask about it

The truth is that while it is a strongly held headcanon of mine, it’s something of half a historical in-joke, and half a metanarrative indulgence. I’ll cover both of these respectively, in case you want just the historical reasoning and not so much my deranged meta-analysis on nations, narrative, and metanarrative. With this in mind;

Prussia as Cassandra, A Meta

A brief historical overview

The Old Prussians practiced omen-reading and regarded seers with high regard, which was acknowledged as valid by the Teutonic Knights (when the omens predicted victory in battle, at least) and was practised by both men and women

White Ladies are supposedly ghosts of women who haunt the Hohenzollern family as omens of misfortune and especially as messengers of coming death. Notably, Queen Sophia Louise was once afflicted by a bout of madness in 1709 and dressed only in her white nightgown and having cut herself on some broken glass and screamed at King Frederick I (grandfather of Fritz) that "the plague would devour the king of Babylon". In part due to the White Lady folklore, he took this with serious regard and proceeded to prepare Berlin against the upcoming plague (which very much devastated wide swathes of both Prussia and the rest of Northern Europe)

Bismarck very probably never actually said the famous "damned foolish thing in the Balkans" quote that people like to trot out about the inevitability of World War 1 so I hesitate to include it here as historical fact, but for the purposes of elaborating on the "historical in-joke" half of this meta I will gesture to it as a vague suggestion of an ironic future-vision that, as I will discuss shortly, I think makes a certain degree of narrative sense.

Now, moving on to the narrative background and arguably the meat of this meta:

Narrative analysis

Entire books could and have been written about the depiction of history, and the fictionalisation of history for the purposes of narrative storytelling, especially in regards to the personification of abstract concepts like nation-states and their associated concepts. Unfortunately I cannot afford to go to university so you are getting this post instead.

For the purposes of this discussion strict literal academic historicity is not our goal, but rather HWS Prussia as a narrative construct within the sandbox of Hetalia as a story that involves and adapts history but is not necessarily directly representative of it.

Within this frame of analysis, Prussia as a character is a distinctly weird choice for Himaruya to make: To establish him as an ongoing, extant entity in the modern day is definitely A Narrative Choice to make, and honestly not really one I could personally imagine making. Perhaps it's a lingering result of questionable initial research, perhaps there's some meat to chew on in regards to this.

Prussia's design is one that stands out, compared to the rest of the mostly-naturalistic cast. We have the initial design concept for him depicting him as an older, rugged man, and we also have his very early canon design that depicts him with blond hair and blue eyes. However, the decision was made at some point relatively early on to change his design to be distinctly and notably Not Natural: Some debate has been made about to what degree is he actually albino, but the design is still notable for being distinctly 'set apart' from the other nations.

From there, we have to start asking questions about why this decision was made. My personal first thought was perhaps it was inherently tied to his creation as an "unnatural" state in the form of the Teutonic Knights. Voltaire's popular quote about Prussia not being a nation with an army, but rather an army with a nation might come to mind. However, we have been provided with the designs of the other Orders and they don't share his design traits in favour of their own design language, meaning that line of question falls short.

From there, I think it's not unreasonable to suggest that Prussia was designed - in his final, canon form - with his dissolution in mind. It sets him apart visibly from the rest of the established nations, and fundamentally Others him from the rest of the cast - a similar design concept used with Russia, who is within the canon framework of Hetalia, heavily associated with the sinister supernatural as signaled by his unnaturally coloured eyes.

Therefore, on a narrative level, Prussia's appearance foreshadows his own death, and his death was inevitable from the very beginning.

(Turns out the Calvinists were right, huh?)

With all that in mind, I don't find it unreasonable to take that dramatic narrative irony and apply that inherent 'friction' to the rest of Prussia's story: His narrative is haunted by his own death.

By virtue of his creation and his design (and within the framework of the text, his existence) he is doomed to die, and that singular event ripples back through his narrative almost like a psychic shockwave. Everything he Is points towards The End.

When that End comes, it 'releases' a good deal of that narrative tension. Himaruya has said that he designed Prussia to be something of a villainous character and the dissolution provides the suitable narrative endpoint in that regard. However.

The narrative framework of Hetalia continues, as the history it adapts tends to do, which begins to create a new form of narrative tension due to The Decision to have Prussia continue existing into the 'modern' setting. Himaruya has been incredibly cagey about this and besides the ongoing mystery of The HRE Situation the topic of Prussia's ongoing existence is something he's been noticeably coy about in his discussions and implications of East Germany and the following Reunification, but that's an entirely separate essay from what this one is about.

Fundamentally, I think that Prussia - as a narrative construct - is inherently and on a foundational level tied to his own eventual nonexistence, and the dramatic tension of What Comes After. I think he knows, on some primal, unfathomable level, and rages against it right up until it comes for him and he has to learn how to pick up the pieces of himself, his legacy, and his own narrative.

With that intrinsic narrative irony in mind, I don’t think it is too out there to suggest that he possibly (unintentionally, unconsciously) channels the future-sight that keeps cropping up in Prussian history, as noted above. At least in some form, I think he resonates with the coming End in a way that he cannot fully comprehend or articulate and like the Cassandra of myth there is nothing he can do to warn about or avert the doom that he sees and senses.

Troy could not be saved, and neither can he.

But that's just a theory. A game theor—

If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! This really got away from me and I really do hope that it's at least somewhat comprehensible.

#hws prussia #hetalia meta #mine #my writing #from the askbox

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qprsmackdown · 1 year

Text

c!Emerald duo propaganda:

Let me tell you. We've got two guys. They live together. They live miles away from everyone else but they live in a little cabin in the snow together. They would die for each other. One HAS died for the other. One is in a monogamous relationship with the personification of death and the other is one of the most widely headcanoned aroace characters and it in no way ever devalues what is considered as one of the most unshakable relationships in the story

"For you the world" — Technoblade to Philza. They are so loyal to each other, legit the healthiest and strongest relationship in the fandom

"For you, the world, Phil." -Technoblade "Sometimes one friend is all you need." -Technoblade “I’m following Techno to the gates of hell... and if he wants to take over the world, god dammit I’m gonna help this man.” - Philza “I followed him to the ends of the earth, through fire and flames.“ - Philza (about Technoblade)

They live together. They kill together. They're raising a polar bear and a very anxious enderman hybrid. They committed so many war crimes and looked good doing it<3 "For you, the world" quote my beloved. Anarchism swag😎

Silly guys of all time! They took over the entire world together once <3 (pre-dsmp but still canon to dsmp) they blew up a country together <3 gotta love 2 guys who commit Literal Actual warcrimes. Also the way they trust eachother just unconditionally is just soo ouuuugggghghhhh i love them. iirc I remember a part where techno was basically just talking about how he'll basically never trust anyone again. TO Phil. Who was very obviously an unspoken exception to the "never trusting anyone" thing. It's been a while so idk if I remember it right but aaaouuuugggg their relationship was so good. Also "for you the world phil" AAAAAUUUUUUU (although the context of that line is much sillier than people usually remember but they are silly guys <3). Ooouugghhh I have so much I could talk about but it's late so I can't think of it right now but they are sooooooo important they are everything to me. This is kinda bad propaganda bc I don't know if I'm even remembering things right and am vaguely incorrect but AUGH. EMERALDDUO

Consider: the fanon immortals being very old friends thing which is a trope i will never not love, and also taking over the world with your qpp is so pogchamp of them

Two anarchist immortals who have been besties for an indeterminable amount of time, but at least for hundreds of years. Took over the Earth once just to show that they can. Back-To-Back Badasses. Each other's consciences and also enablers. Lived together in the middle of nowhere tundra biome, in connected little cottages with their bazillion pets.

THOSE BITCHES WERE LIVING IN THE ARCTIC TOGETHER IN THEIR GAY LITTLE COTTAGE WITH LIKE 100 ANIMALS!!!! They’d both often talk about how they’d kill and die for one another, they’ve been together for centuries despite Techno being all but confirmed Aroace and Philza being married to someone else!! I think they definitely had a QPR going on because like. The person you’re closest to and have lived alongside for god knows how long u gotta at least have SOMETHING going on there imo.

They are both imortal livelong best friends who have been there for each other through war and and other personal hardships They are partners in crime, both arnarchists who took down a nation together and both live in retirement together They only trust each other wholeheartedly (aka they both belive the other wont betray them) and Phil is the only person Techno feels he can be himself around (aka be soft around).

Apparently their qpr had drama in the past bc of this one fic but tbh i dont really get why These two are literally just. The best. There's absolutely no romance between them, but they're the closest of friends, and they care about each other so so much. And they deserve all the things. They live together in a house in the arctic in a commune for anarchists. Basically everyone in the Syndicate are their adopted children. 'For you, the world, Phil' -Technoblade (Just like to say this too, Techno is not Phil's son in the DSMP universe. It's been canonically confirmed.)

They’re two dudes who spend all their time together, built their houses next to each other (and connected it w a bridge), started a commune together, took over the world together, have FRIENDSHIP EMERALDS, and are genuinely such good friends (these are the characters but the irl guys were really good friends until techno died too)

Just a bird and his pig chilling as kings

"for you phil, the world" is treated like this big dramatic line as they take over smpearth but in context its bc they were arguing over something silly and techno laughed and conceded to him and like... just look at then they're ride or die besties emerald duo ftw (on a sadder note i constantly see philza wearing techno's merch on streams and videos and just... man i miss seeing them together)

immortal warriors who have promised to follow each other to the ends of the earth, through fire and flames. they are each others most trusted person without a doubt. when trying to retire from the wars that plagued the server, they both retired in an arctic tundra where they lived together.

These guys cant be seperate from each other anymore than like three days. Like, on top of also doing the antarctic empire together in earthSMP, they just moved to the arctic together to just enjoy life and retirement together. They understand each other like no other bc they've known each other forever. Also bc if we take the titles of bloodgod and angel of death literally you get something something being willing to spend eternity with the other because you care abt them. These two are fine being isolated from everybody else and chilling on their own bc thats all they need

Their relationship is defined by a connection that has lasted for centuries. Despite everything, they always go back to each other. They live together in a cabin in the arctic. They also like murdering together a little too much.

old men committed terrorism and then they settled down :)

For you Phil, the world Immortal best friends spend thousands of years together, conquer the world, found a empire. Phil has a kid with his goddess wife, Techno wind up joining the kids rebellion against the country he founded. When that goes wrong they start a commune called the Syndicate. They are so ride or die. I love them

please they live together theyre best friends theyre immortal together they love each other and phil is married to a god PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

#propaganda #c!emerald propaganda #they have also done really well in the retirement home poll i know that

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 year

Text

𓅨 Shifting Wings: Chapter Eleven

Shifting Wings: Before the Raven Matthew, there was Jessamy, and Jessamy came with a little sister by the name of Adrienne. Dream adores his two little Ravens, but after over a hundred years of imprisonment and the death of Jessamy, Dream will find that he has not just lost his companion, but his beloved little Raven Adrienne no longer brightens the halls of his Palace. None of his staff wish to speak of where the Raven has gone, but the silent new resident of the palace is cause for question. After all, she was the one who aided in his release. If none of his subjects would help him find Adrienne, perhaps she could lead him to the whereabouts of the missing Raven. If only the woman wasn’t so flighty and hard to track down.

Warnings: Nudity, Hell, Angst.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x FemaleRaven!Reader, NAMED Reader (I like the name).

Word Count: ~2.9k

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“So… you knew Jessamy?” Matthew asked, cocking his head to the side as you shelved some books for Lucienne.

“Yes, I did,” You answered, wondering why the raven was bringing the topic of your sister up. She was dead and had been for nearly a century. Why was there such an emphasis on her now? “What is it that you wish to inquire?”

“I just— I just want to know more about her, you know, being Morpheus’s raven and all now. I have no idea what I am doing.”

“You are doing an adequate job, Matthew,” you informed him. “I do not see how discussing your predecessor will enhance your ability. You are different ravens.”

“Well it’s obvious Morpheus really cared about her!” Matthew protested, feeling like he was fighting an uphill battle with the Endless. It wasn’t like being a raven of Dream of the Endless came with a manual. “I don’t want to just exist within her shadow, I want to be useful to him, otherwise why am I here?”

Your fingers still against the spines of the books you shelved and you slowly shifted your gaze to him. Matthew was looking at you with such a pleading look. You were unaffected of course, but his desperation was palpable.

“You do realize that I am unable to sympathize with your situation as I cannot feel emotion… correct?” You asked the young raven. Matthew was unperturbed.

“Yeah, but you are the only one who will talk about her.” He pointed out. “Like, everyone is walking on eggshells about Jessamy and then even more when Adrienne is brought up… like what is up with Morpheus and Adrienne? Cause I’m sensing some sort of attachment or— or a relationship between them? I mean Adrienne was a raven wasn’t she? How does that… work?”

“Lord Morpheus is an anthropomorphic personification of dreams and reality.” You explained. “He personifies an idea, not a thing, and therefore does not necessarily conscribe to the social norms of humanoids. As for his relationship with Adrienne, not even I know what it was nor what it could have been. I simply understand it as a relationship in which two beings found comfort and understanding within each other.”

“Yeah this is making my head hurt just trying to think about it.”

“My apologies for causing such duress.” You told the raven, eyeing him closer. “I am sure you do not need the complexities of such relationships to cause you more stress for understanding.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Matthew replied, shaking his head. “I just— Everyone keeps putting Adrienne on such a pedestal, like she meant everything to Morpheus. Like he loved her. Pretty sure he does at this point, he’s sulking about her right now… and assuming she loved him back why hasn’t she shown up yet? Was it one sided? I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding him. If she loves him? Why is she not here? Lucienne and Mervyn keep avoiding mentioning where she is every time she comes up in conversation, and every time Morpheus asks where she is, they get all suspicious and try to bail answering the question. They know something about her, and aren’t telling anyone.”

You blinked at Matthew’s words, surprised at how astute he was to your and Morpheus’s relationship despite still being so new. He was an adequate raven for Morpheus, even if he did not think so. As for Lucienne and Mervyn’s behavior when Adrienne was mentioned, you were sure it was because they still had emotions. Another reason to not have them, emotions were so meddlesome and tiring. But you would not leave Matthew hanging on questions, not when his role for your lord was so important.

“No, Morpheus’s love was was not one sided.” You replied quietly, your mind thinking back to the time Adrienne spent at his side, faithful and dutiful. She hadn’t done much other than be the palace artist, but Morpheus had greatly appreciated her time and company, and often sought her out. She’d been rather pathetic and pitiful now that you thought about it. One look at her and everyone could see how enamored she was with the Dream Lord. How in love. “Conventional, it was not, but her presence was enough for Lord Morpheus.”

“Ah, I guess that explains why the boss is so insistent on Adrienne making an appearance. He’s probably craving her attention at the moment,” Matthew cawed, bobbing his head and shifting his feet. “She better show up or he’s gonna be real pissed. I think the boss might start crying soon…” You blinked, you mind mulling over Matthew’s words. Surely an exaggeration. Her presence was not needed for Morpheus, just a helpful addition. She was a mere blip within his endless existence.

“Adrienne is dead,” You stated flatly. “And whatever Morpheus is looking for, no longer exists, if it ever did in the first place.” It was, perhaps, cruel and heartless of you to say that, but your words were true. Morpheus had set a firm line between him and Adrienne. Nothing was ever to come from it… so why should that change now? Adrienne was dead. Adrienne is dead. She was at peace in eternal slumber, sheltered from her pain, her agony. You would keep it that way. She would not hurt under your care. Matthew stared at you, slightly bothered by the fact that you seemed to know so much, but were entirely convinced Adrienne was dead. How could you know more about her than anyone else? Were you friends with her? And why did you say that she was dead, when everyone else said otherwise?

“That’s not what Mervyn and Lucienne say,” Matthew quietly commented, shuffling his feet and staring at the table he stood on. “That’s not what Morpheus believes.”

“Mervyn and Lucienne didn’t know Adrienne like I did,” You replied, trying to be less stoic and flat to the raven. “Lord Morpheus has been gone for one hundred and six years, how would he know of her condition?” Matthew wilted as you went back to shelving books, your stoicism and emotionless state getting to him once more. You dismissed his echoing words, focusing on the task at hand.

He was new, he would learn.

“So… you want me to be a carrier pigeon to Lucifer!?” Matthew questioned as his feathers ruffled and raised. “Like the mother fuckin’ devil!?”

“Yes, Matthew, I believe you have already met? It shouldn’t be too difficult for you to drop off a letter for me. You needn’t do anything more than that.”

“Okay, yeah, I can do that… but did you see the way some of those demons eyed me? It was like they were looking at a chicken!!” Matthew burst out, waving his wings about and airing his displeasure. “One of them might decide to turn me into fried raven!”

“The Morningstar would not dare to directly attack you, Matthew.” Morpheus sighed, not eager to send his raven to hell but knowing that he had to. “I must reassert myself and the Dreaming as a place of power so those that seek us harm do not think we are available prey.”

“Sorry I know, I know, I just don’t wanna get eaten by any of them,” The raven muttered. “Died once, not interested in dying a second time, ya know?”

“I would not send you if I had another choice, Matthew,” Morpheus said, his eyes tightening. Matthew bobbed his head before waddling forwards and taking the offered invitation from Morpheus. “You only need to be there as long as it takes to deliver my invitation, there is no need for you to tarry.”

“Don’t plan on it!” Matthew chirped, attempting to be enthusiastic about his job. Swooping into the air, he disappeared into a portal that led to hell, hoping that this would be a very uneventful trip. He still found flying through the netherworld odd, but Matthew managed to pop out in hell just fine. It was just as misty and creepy as it was the first time he had been… and it seemed grimmer than before if that was even possible.

“Get to Lucifer, give invitation, leave,” Matthew chanted to himself, clenching the letter within his grasp. He then fluttered his way through the dominion of the devil. Matthew made it to the throne room of sorts where Lucifer and Morpheus had their challenge and touched down on black marble. Standing on the balcony was the formidable figure of the devil, dressed in white. That didn’t take away from their menacing aura. Or their cruel beauty.

“Hello, raven,” Lucifer drew out, slowly looking over their shoulder to eye the lone raven. “What brings you by my domain?” Matthew felt a shiver of fear run up his spine and he forced himself to step forwards, taking the letter from his beak and holding it with his foot. Rather awkwardly too.

“Lord Morpheus has addressed this invitation to you,” Matthew explained, wanting to get this over with so he could go home.

“Did he,” Lucifer aired out, their eyes glimmering with deviousness and venom. “Come, raven, deliver your master’s invitation.”

Matthew had a bad feeling in his gut, but didn’t have much of a choice, so he took to the air and flew closer to Lucifer. He perched himself on the back of a chair and let Lucifer slowly, a little too slowly, take the invitation.

“Okay if that’s all, I should probably get back to Morpheus in case he needs something from me,” Matthew softly muttered, turning his body to take off and flee. Lucifer didn’t let him.

“Why in such a rush?” They asked with a small smile. “Do you not, enjoy hell? Or are we such bad hosts… surely you would like to see some of our sights.” Oh shit, how was Matthew going to say no to Lucifer!?

“It has been too long, Lucienne,” Morpheus spoke, drumming his fingers on the armrests of his throne. “It should have only taken Matthew but a moment.”

“Surely Lucifer wouldn’t threaten or hurt your raven, that would be an outright declaration of war.” Lucienne commented, her brow furrowed.

“I wouldn’t put the Morningstar past anything at this point in time.” The Endless growled, rising to his feet and stepping down the stairs. He approached Lucienne and thought over the scenarios that would delay Matthew. “I shall see what I can and we will go from there, there is no reason for Matthew to remain in hell this long.”

Morpheus concentrated on his connection to Matthew and viewed what his raven was seeing. Instantly he could feel Matthew’s panic as he urgently flailed and flapped around, dodging leering demons trying to get their hands on him.

“Hand off! Hands off!!” Matthew shouted urgently, his panic making his avian heart race unbearably fast. “I’m not gonna be your dinner!!” Morpheus jerked himself back from Matthew’s gaze, rage broiling within his body.

“They’ve attacked him,” Morpheus hissed, eyes blazing with Endless might and power. “I must—” He cut off at the sound of something heavy hitting the marble floor of the throne room. Lucienne and Morpheus turned to see you standing at an entrance, your face blank. You had dropped several books that you were bringing to Morpheus to aid in his quest to solve the current issue within the realm. Lucienne’s heart dropped knowing that you had heard that Matthew was in danger. She knew what you would try to do.

“Blanche,” Lucienne whispered in warning, her eyes showing her fear of your reaction. “Don’t— do not even entertain the idea of—” You were already moving, spinning in a circle to head out. Lucienne called to you one last time in desperation, her tongue slipping momentarily as desperation clawed to the forefront. “Adrienne!!”

A sickened feeling rushed through Morpheus as he watched your body shift and morph from humanoid to a gorgeous raven speckled with midnight and pearl. The very raven he had so desperately wanted to see since returning. You swooped upwards towards the ceiling, disappearing into a portal that would surely lead to hell. If the Endless had a heart, it had either dropped to his stomach or jumped into his throat as he stood frozen in place, trying to understand how Adrienne, his beautiful and gregarious raven, and turned into you. Cold, emotionless, hardened. A shell. You, his precious and beloved raven that Morpheus felt he could not live without, had been here the entire time, and he had not even recognized you.

“Lucienne,” Morpheus said, barely able to find his voice as his fingers dug into the armrests of his throne. “What happened?” Lucienne sighed heavily and peered at her lord and king over her spectacles.

“I’m afraid I cannot say as it is not my business, sir,” Lucienne answered. “Adrienne— Blanche, has requested for privacy and for us to not acknowledge her life as Adrienne. She says she is dead, and that is how she has lived in the past nine decades. As separate beings… and as much as you might wish to address this, we need to focus on Matthew.”

“He is in hell and Adrienne just went after him.” Morpheus hissed, eyes shimmering with supernovas.

“If anyone is going to get him back, it would be Blanche.” Lucienne softly pointed out, not looking forward to the hard conversation Morpheus was going to have with the woman he loved. “She is not the same as you remember, sir, she—” Lucienne paused, her gut twisting and clenching within her body. “I have not seen nor heard from the Adrienne we knew in nine decades, Blanche is in control. Not Adrienne.” Morpheus stared hard at his oldest raven, his vibrant blue eyes border lining silver, and watered down with innumerous unshed tears. Lucienne took a sigh and collected herself once more. “If you wish to inquire what happened to Adrienne, you must go through Blanche first.” An agonizing ideation, as nothing about Blanche was familiar… nor inviting.

Your wings angled your sleek body through the skies of hell as you scoped out poor Matthew who was being harassed by demons. Lucifer would not touch him, but that didn’t mean the demons would do the same. They were going after the touchable, the one that would hurt Morpheus the most should Matthew be killed. You would not allow that. Tucking your wings to your sides, you dove like a bullet for the group of demons. They were not expecting you to dive right into the fray, your feet an nails extended to scratch at their faces. They yelped at your dive bomb and dispersed, leaving Matthew in a dazed heap on the cold ground. You shifted from your raven form to your human form and scooped up the disoriented raven before taking off.

You streaked away from the demons, running through hell with Matthew clutched tight to your chest. The plan was to get Matthew as far from the demons as possible, and when he got his bearings back, send him through a portal back to the Dreaming. The dazed raven was moaning and mumbling nonsensical words against your skin as you rounded a corner and ducked an incoming mace.

“Two for one boys!” A demon crowed, crooked teeth baring at you in a twisted smirk. You were undaunted. “Fresh meats on the menu tonight!”

“I told you I had a bad feeling, sir,” Matthew babbled shaking his head and trying to clear the stars from his eyes. You scrambled over a rock and glanced down at him. “I don’t wanna be fried raven!”

“Matthew,” You called, hoping that he was well enough to fly on his own.

“You don’t sound like Morpheus,” The raven mumbled. “Way too pretty.” You shook the raven in your arm, trying to jostle him out his trance. “MATTHEW!” You barked at him, blocking a shower of rocks headed at you while you slipped your way down a mountainside. The raven snapped to.

“I’m awake, I’m awake!” The raven squawked, squirming in your arms. Then he realized where he was, and that you were clutching him to your chest. Not to mention you were naked. “What the fu—”

“You need to go!” You ordered, crouching down behind a large rock and pulling the raven from your chest. Matthew was placed on his feet and he shook himself out.

“How are you here!?” He asked, staring at you in shock before remembering that you were naked. He quickly covered his eyes with a wing. “I did not see anything I swear!”

“I got here the same way you did and the same way you shall leave.” You stated, eyes lifting to scan the horizon. “You must summon a portal and get back to the Dreaming.”

“You were a mothering fucking RAVEN this whole time!?!” You proceeding gaze had him shutting his beak and processing your words. Matthew would leave. You would stay. “Wait, what about you!?” Matthew protested.

“My life does not matter as I am not Morpheus’s familiar, he needs you,” You stated, glancing over the boulder once more. A demon caught sight of you and they started charging. “It is time to leave, young raven.” Plucking Matthew’s body from the ground, you surged to your feet and summoned all your concentration on building a portal straight to the Dreaming. In the distance one bloomed for you and you ran as fast as you could, Matthew protesting the whole way. You didn’t give him a chance to physically resist your actions because the moment you got within distance of the portal you threw the squalling raven through it as hard as you could.

Date Published: 7/12/23

Last Edit: 7/12/23

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#dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #sandman x reader #dream the endless #the sandman #the sandman netflix #morpheus #lord morpheus

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joyfullyacat · 2 years

Text

The Beginning to the End (of you)

haha wow i've now written my first all hurt no comfort!!! and BOY ITS THE MOST I'VE EVER WRITTEN FOR ONE THING.

Inspired by this au drawing here from @just-a-drawing-bean

CW: death, violence, suicidal ideation and vaguely committing, bloodshed, it's not a good time for anyone! Word Count: 5.5k -

Never did you think you’d end up here.

The screaming crowds you were once a part of in much better times, witnessing blood baths and massacres for sport. They now roared at you, crying for your spill into the sands. For your last echoes to be drowned out by their frenzy.

You used to be a warrior for this kingdom, a soldier - proud and decorated. Sent into battle after battle, hardly given rest, oh how you missed a soft bed.

How’d you get here?

Not many humans could keep up with the automatons that became part of societies - some were more mindless, faceless recruits with a directive and nothing more than indiscriminate slaughterers. Those in your region held personality, a mind you’d even dare to admit.

Some had even made it to protect the royal family, eternally loyal followers with strength that would be written about for ages beyond.

But if there was a way to get money solidly - quickly, it was through fighting. Humans or otherwise. As a Human, fighting the seemingly hulking beings of metal was a good way to get a grand status.

You were once an individual who had to get money quickly. Now hopefully, that coin would go far with your family. If they weren’t shamed for your audacity at least.

Your penchant for mercy.

The gate that keeps you caged groans with its weight as chains rattle in your ears and ensnare your feet to where you stand currently. Trepidation makes you swallow thickly despite the dryness in your throat and mouth that protest.

Those above were at least kind enough to allow you the weaponry bestowed upon you from your beloved brothers in arms, your trademark tool of the trade. Authorities still had some respect for you it seemed. If a bit mockingly.

A greatsword, a hefty demanding two-hander. Forged by a legendary blacksmith - a friend… Perhaps once friend if you were to be pessimistic. The black leather wrappings creak as your knuckles tighten about the handle.

You wonder again how it was you got here as the announcer practically rips their vocal chords apart in announcing the upcoming battles.

First it was your youngest sibling, so new to this world and still holding bright eyes for what it held for them. It started with shivers - a fever… Then it was shallow breaths and rattling coughs.

Money was scrounged up by the slivers hidden beneath furniture from previous fumbles but they were saved, treated. Didn’t really have scraps after that moment.

Then your parents were the next sign. Your father getting accosted one day in the market and losing his head over it… Literally.

As the then eldest and most abled in the household while your mother clutched at straws for a sign above in her spiralling despair, you had to do what you could for the family.

You taught your sibling everything you could that they’d be able to do so they could take care of mom.

Then you left, never looking back. You’d either make it or die trying.

In a handful of day-to-night then back again cycles, you made it from the outskirts town of everyone knowing everyone to the far more bustling city of high stone walls and an ambience that reached far beyond its border. You snuck in with nothing but the shirt on your back, dirtied slacks and worn out boots to your name with the passing crowd of traders.

You knew of automatons, sometimes they’d be in your little village for trade or a quick rest. Fleeting but memorable, there was a travelling duo that you gave directions to once. Personifications of the celestial bodies themselves it seemed - Sun and Moon respectively.

You told them how to get to this city.

…You didn’t think you’d ever meet them again.

Rather, you didn’t think you’d run into them as you did in a hurry to get away from some suspicious characters. Ramming your face straight into a metal plate with a resounding bong of hitting against metal.

You’re holding your face in your hands with haphazard apologies as a stranger's hand graces your shoulder.

“Why - it’s you again! Our little helper. Moon, you remember them don’t you?”

The familiar voice brings you from your stunned stupor, trying to fight the ache and desire to sneeze with an ugly scrunch of your nose that brings a snicker out of the silent counterpart of the duo, Moon.

“Yeah, I remember them,” He quips quietly, moving just past you to stand behind instead, “What’re you doing out here all alone? In such a hurry…”

You realize after gaining your bearings what he was doing. An attempt to shield you from view, make it look like you were already occupied while they played catch-up.

“Sun, Moon - good seeing you… I - stars… You didn’t have that before, did you?” The breastplate shines even in the shadowy alley between buildings, the daylight unable to pierce the tall buildings and their overhangs.

There’s a smudge where your dirtiness bonked into it.

“Oh this? Nope! Moony made it - he’s been making armor for the soldiers recently.” Sun offers transparently, not missing a beat and garnering your attention to inspect him further.

On a once-over, you see the rest of his armor - his weapons. A shield on his back, a simple scutum on his hip, the sword in a gorgeous engraved leather holder. A dagger was hidden away just beneath the belt of leather straps that fell along his legs to his knees almost.

With a single nod of approval, you look between him and Moon to see what he beared “...You look like soldiers.”

“Because we are. I just happen to also be able to make things.” The lunar half of the duo quips dryly, “Will you answer my question now?”

“Right yeah. I was being chased - something about me being in the wrong part of the city or something?”

The two share a look over your head before looking back down to you.

“...Friend, what are you here for exactly?”

“Money and a chance to help my family.” You state curtly, looking up at Sun who looked to you with upturned brows of worry.

“All alone?”

“Just me.”

A few moments of silence pass before you’re abruptly scooped up and tossed over Moon’s shoulder.“He-Hey- now! What’s the big idea?!” You writhe, kicking your feet some like a petulant tantrum throwing toddler as your face warms up, now distinctly not because of the time of day or season.

“We’ll teach you how to fight.” Is all you’re told.

Sun trails after you and Moon with an apologetic smile.

…

That was the start of it all. They had been so kind to you, a stranger who offered them the most simplest of help when they needed it way back when. The brothers even offered some of their money at the time to send back to your family at first.

The beginning months were rough on your mind, even with the support of the automaton duo. They crafted you into a fine weapon of their own design it felt like now. With all the lessons instilled into you about clean deaths and graceful passings.

They taught you everything you knew. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

They were the reason you became a soldier. To serve with them. To fight for them. To ensure they would see another sunrise and set - a sentiment they shared with you.

Sun took you in his arms, Moon took you under his metaphorical wing. They plucked you from your world and integrated you into theirs.

The three of you were terrors on the field.

Gossips labelled you all as harbingers of the end. The murder of crows. Some used the term vultures.

Creatures that cleared the remains, picking them clean.

You only gave the proper burials that your enemies deserved - that’s if the bodies weren’t collected by their home compatriots.

“...Moon.” You ask one night, your arms are aching from the battles today. There’s pain all throughout, you’d be bruised for the weeks following. You’re bandaged up and should be taking the chance for a much needed rest…

Yet, you’re driving a shovel into the dirt again…

Smoke is hanging heavy in the air, there’s smoldering remains of artillery from both sides. The smell the winds carry with them is acrid.

Again…

Many faces are indistinguishable in the smears of dirt, blood, and cruel fire that doesn’t distinguish between friend and foe from the source of its creator.

And again.

He looks over to you briefly before continuing with digging with you. “What is it, my soft soldier?”

“Why do we do this?”

“...Because no other will. They had their own lives and they gave it up for the chance of a new home. It only makes sense they should feed the grounds and trees that’ll one day tower over us. To be part of creating a new home beyond you and me.”

“I see…”

Sun heaves the fallen into the pits you dig. The thump of hitting the dirt gets replaced soon by clangs of metal on metal on metal. It echoes in your ears long after you leave.

The lifestyle had been… Grating. It tumbled you around like a stone in the ocean. One day you’ll be spat out, smoothed by the tumultuous currents that never allowed rest - or you’ll be broken upon impact when your time comes to leave the waters as you were discreetly made fragile from the cycle.

It felt like ghostly claws grasped at your ankles as you walked each day now, mementos from your battles, they’d find purchase in your scars and tear them new each night in your dreams.

The greatsword crafted just for you was enough of a symbol that people ran from it. Even though Sun loved it - he designed the weapon after all.

You loved his art. You didn’t realize what the sketch he presented you with was a blueprint - you thought he was just showing you his work like you made him promise to do.

It was when he painted for the first time, a simple messy thing with what he could afford to do in a little amount of time, you were enamoured. A splattering of colors on a fairly large shell, a flower painted within.

“My strong sword lily.” Sun called you then when you managed to get it on a leather cord and wear it around your neck. His pinky linked with yours shortly after.

“Seal it with a kiss?” You had asked jokingly, only to be made flabbergasted when he kissed the back of his hand and ushered you to do the same with his free one that wasn’t linked with yours.

The smile he wore was so bright that day, bright as his namesake and twice as warm.

The two-hander was a work of art in theory. A list of materials was scribbled in the corner - it’d shine so beautifully in the light, engravings would let it tarnish down the line to be proudly displayed on a wall.

He wanted to call it “The Sunderer.” Pun included.

Moon got to it not even a week later and added his own touches. The pommel holding the symbol of a sun embraced by a crescent moon, things like that.

Your strength with your new blade then made it into the ballads and poems of bards. People ran from you or fawned over you in the streets. Those who contested you were out until the next morning.

Never did you strike to kill unless it was on the battlefield.

You watch as another duo enters the ring. It’s not much longer now - it shouldn’t be at least. They wouldn’t plan actual fights before your turn. Not when it was known you’d go for hours on end.

It’s a scrawny young man - practically a boy. He’s up against one of the older champions of the pit, Monty you think his name was? A hulking gladiator with claws and knuckles of sharpened spikes with a large, sweeping tail that knocked many into walls with sickening cracks. A lizard-sort of mechanical work with sharp teeth.

The boy was running him in circles.

The sun-warmed sand is scalding to your toes now.

A part of you wants to run in as the gate is open and impale yourself on your own blade. How much would that shake your once brothers and sisters in arms? The ones watching with bated breaths for your appearance. Those who looked up to you as a guardian.

The stalwart protector you once were.

Reduced to becoming a reddened water fountain.

It’s tempting. It shouldn’t be.

You look at your wrists and focus on the raw lines where the cuffs dug into your skin. Those would be weak spots, they’d probably start bleeding as soon as you started swinging and that was alright.

It was better than being chained to the wall like a rabid beast…

“Release me - I’ll take you on! I’ll make you a wet smear upon these stones!” Your cries and threats fall onto deaf ears as you’re taken away by guards. What have you done against your home? What did you do?

Sun and Moon look at you, shocked and frightened.

You left some of the strongest people you had ever met in your life, scared. It silences you almost immediately, reduced to no more than pitiful whines and struggles as you wished to go back in time. To get back to them.

The look of seeming disappointment on Moon’s face would forever be ingrained in the back of your mind.

You could only desperately pray to whatever gods that would be foolish enough to listen to you - that your family would still be cared for in your absence.

Insubordination - that was your crime. Apparently. It was reported you had been smuggling escapees from neighboring taken-over territories through borders instead of offing the forest of family trees. Letting the bloodlines flow freely along your blade and feeding the earth below.

Was it not enough to torch their memories? Their homes? To defile the grounds of their dead?

How were you supposed to thin the numbers when they can’t even fight back to begin with. How were you supposed to protect your kingdom from the orphaned and sick?

The needy needed someone to help them…

Even if that person was part of the cause of all their misfortune to begin with.

You were not instilled with the laws of mercilessness and cruelty.

You were given kindness, taught that very kindness and basic respect, you returned it tenfold…

And this was what you were repaid with.

Trying to fight your way to freedom - cheap, free entertainment. There’s a part that’s ready to be out there again with your weapon in hand, longing for the hum of battle in your blood. The rest of you is disgusted you ever supported this sport to begin with.

The reptilian automaton was knocked to the ground with an agonized cry but distinctly he wasn’t dead. You could see his tail twitch in various places with a jerkiness that made it seem like he was trying to regain his sense of self.

The man-boy, Gregory, you vaguely heard in the cheering, stood a foot on the chest of the champion, hands on his hips. Evidently proud of his work. It seemed he didn’t learn a very valuable lesson in the field.

Always make sure they’ve stopped moving - or breathing if they’re human.

The gladiatorial monster suddenly grabbed the new fighter by the ankle on his chest and wretched it away.

You didn’t have to look anymore.

The fervor of the crowd was enough, practically deafening in the echoey walls of the arena. They got the blood they were after - that the new blood was denying them.

Soon, you could just make out a title being announced as the victor growls out his cheer, a foul guttery noise before dragging himself and his conquered foe out of the ring.

It feels hollow being called the Vulture of the Wastes.

Not when you knew the truth of it. Of all of it. How the people who recognized you for you saw you as an anything but an omen of disaster. Your correction stewed in your mind.

It’d probably be your last thought. That you’d be dying fruitlessly. For futile beliefs.

Though, distractingly, you didn’t know who the Blade of Brilliance could be. The title called after your own.

It’s been some time since you were in battle and similarly just as long since you were last outside without restraint. You were only able to retain your strengths by pulling at your chains. Utilizing the bars above when they’d briefly leave you without your restraints.

It wasn’t ideal but it had to do.

You drag your sword behind you, letting it screech across the stone to announce your approach.

The people somehow seem so much louder outside of your little crevice. Maybe it’s the daylight that blinds you. Maybe they just got more excited seeing the familiar gleam of your blade.

You stand in the middle of the playing field, staring beyond to the opposing alcove.

Never did you think on such a blistering summer’s day, you’d feel so cold as a familiar silhouette breaks from the shadows. One you hadn’t seen in…

How many times did you see frost make way for flowers? For verdant greens to turn to yellows and reds?

It didn’t matter now.

None of it mattered now.

The royalty above sat in their viewing box in pillowy comfort, idly being fanned and no doubt snickering to themselves in selfish gratification for the pain they’ve inflicted this day. Onto their most loyal soldiers with differing values.

Pitting once comrades in arms against one another.

Pitting you against a lost love.

Sun looks at you with a broken smile, the sharp stare he greeted you with, meant to intimidate became much more rounded - softening at his recognition of you. The loneliness that falls from him in waves creeps up with every step he steals towards you, the distance steadily closing.

“Oh what have they done to you…” He speaks openly once he’s just a few feet away, brandishing his sword and shield, the very same you first met him wielding.

So he was the Blade of Brilliance.

You want to smile for him, you want to crack a joke and get him giggling in that intoxicating way that baits you into laughing along with him… But you can’t. This isn’t a matter where you’re companions on the road or wary souls seeking comfort in the night.

You are enemies fighting for freedom as a show for others.

“I’m sorry I’ve wilted over the years - what did they do to get you here?” You ask, raising your sword up in a readying stance as a wave of antsy jeers crowd around you and your opponent.

They want you to start fighting soon.

The announcer hasn’t said anything yet.

“...Moony and I put ourselves here. Hoping to be met with you one day.” He admits with a half-hearted laugh that sounds empty, “I had so many words prepared for you, genuinely I did-” “FIGHT ALREADY!” The announcer screams with finality, you both jolt from your moment with one another.

Right.

“...Like training?” You ask cheekily, the barest of smiles pulling at your lips when he seems to perk up at the suggestion.

“Like training.” He echoes and you charge at him with a swing from your side, heaving the greatsword into his shield with an audible clang of metal against metal and an ear piercing shriek as sparks go flying from the collision.

“I’m sorry I left you and Moon - is he here?”

Another strike, you brandish your sword like a shield to block his overhead swing.

“He is, he’s watching now no doubt. You’ll be fighting him next.”

The statement said with such totality makes your brain short circuit, taking a bash from his shield and being sent backwards with a breathless wheeze. Something definitely cracked. Sun walks over easily and if you didn’t know any better, you’d be terrified of the confidence he strides with. “Oh I should have warmed you up for that better,” He speaks casually even though he’s standing over you, sword positioned to sink into your flesh. But he’s being theatrical for the people around.

You’re both putting on a show.

So you brace for the pain, taking the sword at your chest and closing your hand around it. Thankful for the cloth wrappings they spared you with as you push at it and into him, “What do you mean I’ll be fighting Moon after this?” The cheap material absorbs the blood of the cut along your palm easily but your fingers would prove to be an annoyance.

The automaton plays the stumble well, acting surprised at your retaliation as you’re quick to re-arm yourself with a wild cleave.

Your blade slices clean through his metal side - a hit he could have avoided but he doesn’t flinch or falter, he looks at you proudly.

“I don’t plan on winning this fight, my warrior.” He explains simply, you’re able to see a twitch in the hand that’s occupied by his shield. He wants to reach out and touch you - you long to hold him the same. “Neither does he.”

“They won’t accept a forfeit.”

“The royal family will accept our deaths.”

Tears spring to your eyes, blurring your vision and falling rapidly at his content admission. He’s so calm about all of this. Sun has been placid from the start… It makes you wonder how long he’s been stewing over this with Moon. Where this was their mutual final answer to everything that had occurred.

“Your tears are appreciated - but they are wasted, you know this, don’t you?” Sun quips in an effort to get you to smile - or maybe hit him. You choose the latter as your weapon goes swinging, your heart clenches painfully in your chest. “There has to be another way - why isn’t there another way, Sun?” You utter brokenly, looking between your locked blades and him.

“Even if they accepted the forfeit. You, me, and Moon would all still be trapped.” He swings his arm so his sword is free from the lock. More shrieking metal, more sparks sent flying.

“Him and I have won many battles. They promised us freedom, we’ve long since rejected it. I don’t think they’d let us go now, not when we bring them so much… Everything, really.” Sun elaborates further, dropping his sword before reaching out and grappling you.

For a moment, you’re scared at the hand that holds your neck as you’re forced to the ground and made to unhand your only means of defense, his mechanical strength easily outdoing your current abilities but then you realize where he’s dropped his sword.

He’s giving the two of you time to speak and seeing himself up for his end.

They always were so good at thinking ahead.

Sun lovingly strokes along your jawline with his thumb despite the hold on your neck. “You made us realize that without you - life is… Tragically dull. Lifeless really. You brought so much color to our mundane existence, a meaning to the fight. Do you know fighting without purpose is practically torture? Nothing to return to - no one to keep safe…”

You kick your legs against his chest in a show of struggle but you’re still a blubbering, sobbing mess. “You - you have each other!” Your wailing is pathetic and he looks at you in sorrow.

“But we would much rather have you with us, sweet one. Even if we got out of here together - there would still come a time where you would pass and we would have to march on eternally… Do you think you could stomach that sort of existence?”

Your flailing hand that seems desperate to find something to use against your opponent finally lands on the sword.

“We have accepted our end at your hand. There would be no greater honor and besides… Maybe in the next life - you can have that garden you wanted… I can be the painter I longed to be…”

“And Moon?” “Moon would get the family he wants, little ones in tow - how we’d get them…” He looks to the side then shrugs, the smile he flashes you is so heartwarming, sickeningly sweet and unbelievably him as you knew from back then that your sobs subside to a hiccup.

You go limp in your seemingly fruitless struggles against him. “...You’re sure about this? All of it?” You don’t want to go into the philosophy of machines not having souls. They came out of nowhere, they were created somehow, surely there’d be a second chance for them… For you too.

“We’ve planned to the last detail.” He confirms, pulling away and “accidentally” kicking your fallen greatsword closer to you. “Give them what they - and we… Want.” Sun gives you a wink of all things before standing up, hands in the air and prematurely celebrating his victory.

Steadily, you reach for your greatsword, you’d leave Sun’s weapon here for the moment.

They’d probably appreciate the theatric brutality of killing a brother with his sibling’s sword.

The thought makes you ill.

You act like you’re dazed from just being strangled, briefly clutching at your throat in a hunch before you get both hands on your sword, holding it out in front of you…

And charge.

The ear splitting screech of metal grinding against metal fills the arena and it actually manages to silence the crowd as you impale the perceived victor from behind…

And twist. You respectfully lower Sun’s now lifeless body to its knees, letting him slide off your sword with an irate grinding cry at the friction before he falls to the sand in a heap, face down.

You don’t think you could stomach seeing the lights of his eyes as dark pools of nothingness.

There is a bloodcurdling thunderous cry of rage from the alcoves and you realize that Moon had just witnessed everything.

You want to cry again. Even if it was planned - this was betrayal. It all felt like a betrayal to their trust. To everything they told you, taught you, and gave you. Now they entrusted you to throw it all away and give them their final wish.

You hold your sword over your head as if you didn’t just hear a lion be released from their cage and pretend you don’t see the glinting flashes of dual wielded blades or the blur of blue coming at you.

You get tackled to the ground with a very genuine shout of surprise however.

There’s a broken wheeze that leaves you before you can speak, your voice strained. “They really wanted to make this hard for me, huh?” You ask in a huff, finding some spirit to grin up at Moon who, in all of his animalistic snarling, looks at you with the kindest eyes you’ve seen on him yet.

“They were never one to play fair - you look terrible by the way.” He notes dryly before you’re sending him back with a smear of your blood across his face from your hand swiping wildly.

“Glad I could service you well one final time.” You utter morosely, eyeing the streaks of your fingers from one side of his face to the other.

“So he’s told you?”

“Every last detail. Including your wants for a family.”

You’re beginning to feel numb - but the way he looks away, flustered, makes your heart flutter.

“Not quite possible but… Maybe we’d get a dog or two. Something that’d fill in that gap.” He tosses the idea in his head, lowering himself to the ground and reversing the hold on his dagger while his sword faces you.

“I thought you were a cat person?”

Moon doesn’t answer your question. “Are you ready for the flurry, brave soldier?”

You ready your greatsword, letting the shine of it reflect into the face of your opponent who squints at your nonsense.

“Always.”

He’s swinging before you blink and you can only maneuver yourself and your weapon to fight off each blow that sends you back inch by inch, despite the way your feet are dug into the sand.

Moon does get you here and there, your blood is splattering the ground in little rose bud blooms that get lost in your movements, buried as soon as they land.

You drop your greatsword after long enough of the onslaught, trying to run away for your life - with little dignity in tact.

You’re running right to Sun’s blade that glints at you playfully in the dancing sunlight of a cloud overhead.

Moon’s chase has your adrenaline flying as whenever he’s close enough, there’s a new slice or nick somewhere in you. Your clothes are blood stained tatters at this point.

You reach down for the sword and send it soaring, unused to its lightweight compared to your usual heavier weaponry and it makes its mark…

Right into Moon’s left eye.

The agonized bellow is very genuine but there is nothing you can do.

You inflicted this pain, agreed upon it may be but the logic did little to soothe your haywire emotions as a strangled gasp leaves you almost fumbling with the blade while you tear it out from his head.

“Please - I - Moon I’m-”

You’re interrupted when he waves a sword wielding hand in a seemingly blind swipe but it’s a signal of dismissal as he staggers back and loses that very sword in his agony. “You’re doing good…” Is all he can get out before it all continues once more.

Your swords clash against one another again, this time very much one-sided as your foe visibly struggles just keeping himself upright.

“We’ll feed these grounds in the wake of a new world, just like I told you.” He hisses out, if he could breathe, no doubt his breath would be heaving in his pain. The shake of his shoulders is indicator enough as one hand keeps the damage you did to his eye hidden from you.

Trying to comfort you, even in a time like this.

“Will we be reunited?” You ask, when you manage to accidentally knock his remaining blade free from his hand - his hand going with it.

“Time and time again, we will find each other. Just like the stars above.”

The shorter blade you wield demands you get closer for the final blow and much like Sun, you strike it through his chest.

He falls forward prematurely though as you're driving the blade in and you can just barely feel the nuzzle of his teeth against the crown of your head. One final note of affection - public even, something he hated the most.

You finally let out the yowling pain of your heart that echoes across the arena and gets lost in the battle frenzied crowd.

“Our VICTOR!” The crier announces with hands raised to the skies above as he steps up onto the little stage that overhangs the arena. “The prisoner, the Vulture, will be let free for their abilities this day!”

Never have words of empowerment proved to be so meaningless to you.

You don’t wait for the fanfare. You’re walking out towards the opening exit that guards await you with, taking the blades that belonged to you, Sun, and Moon all in tow.

You held onto the idea of once again seeing your companions in your time spent forcefully away from them.

You see now what they meant by a world without the dynamic duo.

Even though you’re actively bleeding and you’re pretty sure you're missing pieces of yourself like a bit of ear there or a wedge of flesh here. You deny seeing a healer.

You deny seeing the royal family.

You instead walk.

With one sword in a sheath you make from your wrappings, you hold your greatsword and Sun’s blade while clenching Moon’s dagger between your teeth.

And you walk.

Even with the keen shriek of your greatsword on the ground that draws attention, not one person goes to you. They recognize you, they recognize your sword, they see your blood. They see the other tools you brandished unwillingly.

They know what you’ve done.

You know what you’ve done.

They never told you that you had to live a long life for them after this - just that you had to give them their final dues and earn your freedom.

There is no freedom without those two in your life, for that you can be certain.

If any were to follow your trail of blood and scratches in stones and along trees from the swords… They’d come across you.

Who put every blade into the ground, hilt up in the sky as final resting places, markers that not one soul would dare touch in fear of retaliation…

On the bank of a very… Very empty lake.

Not one bubble in sight.

#joyfic #hurt no comfort #sun x reader #moon x reader #dca x reader #sun x y/n #moon x y/n #dca x y/n #fnaf sb #fnafsb #im not sorry but im kinda sorry #you can yell at me its alright

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mostbelovednjpwtournament · 1 year

Text

Most Beloved AEW Wrestler Tournament Round 2 Statistics Dump

Followers: 168

Total Votes: 13,148 + 11,439 = 24,587 (Considering round 2 only lasted half the time as round 1, nearly matching the vote count is impressive)

Times I accidentally included a wrestler twice without noticing: 1 (fuck you Matt Sydal for being so generic and sorry to the 74 people who have voted for him at some point, he's now my personification of every failure I've ever had)

Beloved By Gender

So before starting, we had a ratio of 23.9% women, 0.7% nonbinary and 75.4% men

After round 1, that shifted to 24.8% women, 1.5% nonbinary and 73.7% men

After round 2, the numbers have shifted even more in favor of not-men

Which means women and nonbinary wrestlers are kicking the men's asses in terms of overall belovedness

Voting Trends

We're still on an upwards trend for votes, still featuring the epic highs and crushing lows of popularity days, but had the first day to break 2000 votes!

Day 16: also known as the day everyone decided that if Punk wasn't going to move on, he may as well lose to Willow. Also the day of everyone deciding that if someone from the BCC had to be eliminated, it was Chuckie T who had to do it to em

The Great Ties

In round 1, as we all know, Darby and Jack tied exactly at 85 votes apiece. It was decided they would both move on to round 2 in order to duke it out once more. Then they both lost. Darby lost to The Butcher by 20 votes and Jack lost to Trish Adora by 35 votes. This marks the end of both of their journeys with Darby getting a total of 193 votes and Jack finishing one slot above him at 216 total votes.

No one brought it up, but there was a tie in round 2 as well. Both Kota Ibushi and Mr. Brodie Lee earned a total of 79 votes. Working from the great tradition of precedent, they'll both be moving on to round 3.

And the near-tie that broke everyone's heart, Anthony Bowens VS Hangman Adam Page. The closest contest thus far that was separated by a single vote in Bowens' favor. Our cowboy will ride into the sunset and Anthony will live to scissor another day

Teams and How They Fared

Any team member not listed in the group lost in round 1

BCC: Bryan Danielson (122), Jon Moxley (147) and Wheeler Yuta (152) have passed the second round but Claudio Castagnoli (106) was taken out by Chuck Taylor.

Best Friends: Kris Statlander (147), Orange Cassidy (177), Danhausen (217) and Chuck Taylor (224) all continue to round 3

The Elite: Kota Ibushi (79), Nick Jackson (126) and Matt Jackson (130) continue to round 3. Adam Page (168) lost to Anthony Bowens.

BCG: Juice Robinson (87) and Jay White (124) move on to round 3. Colten Gunn (38) lost to Abadon.

The Acclaimed: Billy Gunn (101), Anthony Bowens (169) and Max Caster (174) all move on to round 3.

House of Black: Malakai Black (98), Brody King (110), Buddy Matthews (117) make it to round 3, but Julia Hart (95) lost to Athena

Dark Order: Mr Brodie Lee (79), Alex Reynolds (112), Evil Uno (124) move on to round 3. John Silver (35) lost to Kris Statlander and Stu Grayson (38) lost to Isiah Kassidy.

The Outcasts (I know they kinda broke up, but it's an easy grouping to make): Ruby Soho (110) and Toni Storm (120) both make it to round 3

Jurassic Express: Luchasaurus (142) moves on but Jack Perry (131) lost to Trish Adora (and a moment of silence for Marko, who is dead)

Jericho Appreciation Society: Anna Jay (140) moves on. Jake Hager (3) lost to Maki Itoh, Angelo Parker (32) lost to Toni Storm, Matt Menard (53) lost to Brody King and Tay Melo (61) lost to Buddy Matthews.

Death Triangle: Penta (104) moves on, but Rey Fenix (72) lost to Malakai Black

Teams Who Are Still Fully Intact

(Forgive me if I miss some)

Aussie Open: 374 between 2 members

Better Than You Baybay: 431 between 2 members

Butcher, Blade & Bunny: 637 between 3 members

The Acclaimed: 724 between 3 members

Hookhausen: 732 between 2 members

Lowest Votes

The top 6 lowest votes after 2 rounds (they're the 6 under 30 collective votes)

Aaron Solo (29)

Tully Blanchard (28)

Carlie Bravo (23)

Mance Warner (21)

Eli Isom (18)

Madi Wrenkowski (17)

Highest Votes over Round 2

Just the votes earned during round 2 (not collectively)

Willow Nightingale (343)

Chuck Taylor (224)

Danhausen (217)

Orange Cassidy (177)

Nyla Rose (175)

Top 10 Highest Collective Votes

Willow Nightingale (651)

Danhausen (418)

Chuck Taylor (400)

Riho (379)

Orange Cassidy (363)

Eddie Kingston (343)

Wheeler Yuta (338)

Hook (314)

Athena (291)

Hikaru Shida (288)

Thanks everyone who's voted so far and keep an eye out for round 3 tomorrow (reminder that I will be lowering the daily polls from 10 to 5)

#most beloved aew wrestler tournament #aew #all elite wrestling

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pleaseitsjustrae0nly · 11 months

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Can you please do a Zane X jack frost daughter reader basically the reader is the daughter of jack frost the reader is half spirit and immune to the cold and can control ice and at first it confuses them because there is supposed to only be one master of ice but the quickly told them she the daughter of jack frost to clear up the confusion and Zane falls in love with the reader and he convinces his felling for the reader and the reader accept them (do to the reader being half spirit she is immortal and well everyone knows that Zane is also immortal the version of jack frost in this is from rise of the guardians)

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE! I love jack frost, so this will be fun! This was my favourite to write, ty so much for letting me write this 💙 this story is a bit longer than I thought so... yeah!

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Your my own snow fall.

A Zane x Jack Frost Daughter! Reader. Uses she/her. Fluff, Comfort, family argument, mention of an oc (4 the mom) and slight swearing!

"BUT MOOOOOM! Dad said I could go out this winter with him!" You whined, you were in a pale baby blue hoodie and some grey leggings. "Not tonight. May I remind you, YOU promised you'd help me bake your favourite dessert for the meet up, didn't you?"

"Leilani, she can help you when we come back. We won't be gone for too long!" Your father, Jack Frost argued with his beloved.

It was always like this whenever it was winter season. Your mother Leilani, the guide to all flora, and your father, Jack Frost, the personification of winter.

"Jack, the last time you brought her with you ended in complete disaster!" Your mother said as she tended to the plants in your home. "She was fine! Besides that was years ago, our daughter can now grow icey flowers now and fly in the wind, just like us!" You nodded, you were always a daddy's girl. You loved your mom, but sometimes, she can be overprotective. "She MAY be able to, but she's only flew through the spring winds and early winter winds. THESE ARE LATE WINTER WINDS JACK, THEY ARE STRONGER THAN THE ONES SHE'S TRAINED ON."

"... you didn't tell her?" You ask your dad, he was sweating. He didn't tell your mom that you've been secretly flying in the late winter winds with his permission. "Tell me what." Your mother was death staring both of you. "uhhh... WE'LL BE BACK IN A BIT, LOVE YOU HONEY!"

"JACK I SWEAR ON THE MAN IN THE MOON-" your mother's cursing lowered as you and your dad flew through the strong winds. You and your dad flew over the village and then began ascending into the clouds where you started to glide smoothly over the fluffy condensed masses of air and water.

"You're so dead when we get back dad.", "HA! I'm dead? We're both dead! May I remind you, you were the one who started flying in the strong winds without BOTH OF US knowing, be grateful it was me who heard you smack yourself into a tree."

You were both laughing and joking around when you both heard screams coming from below. "Dad? Can we-", "No 'we' sweetheart. Just me, you stay somewhere high up okay?", "But dad-", "Sweetheart, no. Your mom is already going to kill me for not telling her, who knows what she'll do if she found out I let you fight with me?"

You sighed, allowing yourself to sit on a tall building. You were in a completely new area. Your mom was right, these winds were stronger, it felt like you were just flying for 15 minutes. The signs were written in some characters, you glanced around to try and find the name of the city when a blimp flew over with a message flashing on it: "WELCOME TO NEW NINJAGO CITY, THE CITY THAT'S ALWAYS CHANGING."

"huh, Ninjago. Dad never told me about this place." you started to swing your feet, you started to create snowflakes and blow them through the city streets. You would usually create them with your dad but he was busy helping in whatever that situation was.

It's been like, 10 minutes? 15? Either way, it's been a bit too long since your dad left to assist in whatever that situation was. Your dad isn't the type to just leave you alone in an unknown city, your mom would kill him and he loves you too much. "Where the hell is he..."

"Excuse me miss, you shouldn't be sitting there. It's dangerous." a male voice spoke. It you lifted your staff (that your parents gifted you) at the man, he had a mask covering everything except his eyes, his icey glowing eyes. "Oh, sorry... I'm just waiting for my dad." you lower your staff, 'his eyes are pretty...'

"I see, but why on the rooftop?" he asks, "Well, he just said to wait for him here." you sat down on the concrete floor and staring at the mysterious masked boy. "Did he say where he was going?", "We heard screaming so he went to check it out.", "Really? Where from?", "Uhhh, like down those alleys I think?"

You pointed to where you think the screams came from. You didn't want to say you were flying over, but then something clicked. HE COULD SEE YOU. "Uhm, how did you see me up here anyway?", "I saw your silhouette." No one is suppose to see you unless they believe in either your mom or dad...

"Well...uhm." the winds howled, through the cold night. "Aren't you cold miss?" you shook your head, just praying to the man in the moon that your dad would come and pick you up soon. And seems like your prayers were heard for a gust of cold wind whooshed behind you. "Sorry sweetheart, I got held up by some dumb pajama people. They think I harmed the townsfolk and..." He saw the guy next to you, "Y/N, step away from him.", "Dad?", "Step. Away. From. My. Daughter."

"Sir I think there's a misunder *static*... what?" his hand was placed next to his ear. "Sweetheart we have to go, NOW." you start making your way to your father when the boy in white spoke again, "Who are you..." Your father then grabbed your wrist and jumped off the building.

"DAD WHAT THE FUCK?" You quickly adjusted into your gliding position and began yelling at your father. "They started attacking me sweetheart, it's not safe there.", "Dad, what do you mean? Your Jackfrost, the personification of winter! How are you a threat?"

"...They could use elements, one had water, the others were earth, fire, and lightning. There was another, they used some sort of Green..." He said, "And the white one?", "No clue, but i'm not staying to find out."

The silence made the trip seem longer than it was coming. You and your father arrived to see your mother happily laying out some dinner and taking what seemed to be her famous Lemon Ginger Cookies. "Well you two are back earlier than expected, something happened?" You were about to tell your mom what happened but your dad... "Nothing, the winds were a bit weak so we weren't able to travel that far. Anyway! What did you make? It smells good as usual."

You didn't really mind your dad flirting or sweet talking your mom, but at that moment, you wanted to punch him in his cold face. he has lied for you so much, your worried the trust that your mom and dad have might break. "Y/N sweetie? Aren't you gonna eat?", "Huh? Oh yeah, sorry i couldn't help mom...", You mom patted your head "It's okay, I should give you a little more freedom now that your older. But your helping me bake tomorrow, no backing out!"

The next day came, guilt was eating away at you. Sure, you've lied to your mom a few times, but dad is lying to her for YOU. You walked out of the cabin to see your dad sprinkling snow on some plants. "Dad, why did you not tell mom about what happened last night?", "Sweetie, I will tell her but not yet. She's in a really good mood and I don't want to ruin it.", "Dad, we've been lying to her for far too long, at least tell her at lunch.?" he nodded, "Hey... don't you have some baking to do?", "SHIT!" you muttered as you quickly ran inside to help your mom.

BACK IN NINJAGO...

"Guys, he's not here, and neither is his daughter." PIXAL said reviewing their body cameras. "Are all sure that he used... ice?" Zane questioned. ever since the incident last night, they were searching for the man who could control ice, along with his daughter. "Were sure Zane, he froze most of us besides Kai and Me... did she tell you where they came from?" Lloyd, the green ninja asked.

"Of course not, I was a masked stranger." Cole was still slightly shivering, "Where do you think they went?", "They're home probably." They re-watched the footage again to see what they missed, but again nothing.

"Well fuck. WHAT DO WE DO? SOME GUY WHO CAN ALSO USE ICE IS OUT THERE AND WE DOn'T KNOW WHAT HE'LL DO!" kai yelled, he had a point. They don't know what the guy uses his powers for, good? evil? they have to know...

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

A week has passed, and the situation had died down. The 'man' and his daughter never showed, and there wasn't any problems with the people in ninjago so they assumed they were just travelling from somewhere. That is until one night where Zane was sitting on top of the same building where he met you.

"...I hope she's okay." he found himself talking to the wind when he felt a similar chill. "You again?!" he jumped to his feet and saw you... "It's you, the daughter of that man with ice.", "Okay that's rude. Look, I just came here to get away from home for a bit, I don't want to deal with anyone right now."

He tilted his head, you had to get away from your home? You then sat on the ledge behind him as he sat next to you. "...wanna talk about it?" he asks softly. You sigh. "It's a long story." you looked at him and he looked like he didn't care if it was a long story.

"Well, remember that time me and my dad came here? He didn't tell my mom about our encounter, and he promised he'd tell her at lunch the next day... but he didn't. My mom was the one who found out after I asked him to tell her... and she went ballistic." You lowered your head, in shame. "I've kept some things hidden from my mom, and my dad always takes the blame for it. But he hasn't been telling my mom everything. My training, the fight, all of it." Zane listened well, and put two and two together, 'then your dad must really not trust her.' he didn't say that, but he wanted too. "Have they fought before?" he asked, "Not like this, it was worse. They were both yelling, my mom was crying... I felt like I caused this, and I did. If I had told my mom before everything, maybe this wouldn't have happened."

"Would your mother have reacted badly?", "At first, maybe. But she's understanding... god I should have told her from the start... I'm horrible." you began to form ice on the edge, and Zane took notice. "She might never forgive my dad... they may even separate... this all my fault." tears began to roll down your cold cheeks, whilst more ice began to form on the ledge.

"They loved each other... and now, they might never love again... all because I didn't tell her from the beginning."

Zane saw the ice grow, he shouldn't be this shocked. It was a possibility you inherited the ice abilities from your father, and it seemed to revolve around your emotions. "Would you like to hear my honest opinion on the situation?" he asks, ignoring the ice. "Yes please, *sniff*" you wiped your tears.

"You should have told her everything. She's your mother, trust and honesty are one of the main structures a relationship relies on to stay healthy and sturdy. You knew that, yet you still kept it hidden. You had the right to not tell her, but she should know when her own daughter was in a situation and was nearly hurt." He began to form ice around where he sat, making a sculpture of a flower, "Your mother has every right to be upset at both you and your father. You broke her trust, just because you both are dear to her does not mean it will repair quickly. Trust is earned, not given."

He handed you the flower, "I would like to start over, I'm Zane. Master of ice. You are?" you held the flower with your cold hands, looking up at the now unmasked boy, revealing a steel exterior, paired with teal eyes. "Y/N, the daughter of Jack Frost. An honor to meet you Zane."

After the proper introduction, you hung with Zane on top of the building for another hour, talking about both of your powers, family, friends and immortality.

He gave you the confidence to head back home and apologize to your mother about keeping things from her. And promised to return to Zane to hang out once everything was sorted out.

A week had passed, Zane returning to the top of the building every night, just to check if you had arrived. It usually brings him disappointment when not seeing you, even after waiting 10 minutes.

But on a Sunday night, he was about to leave when he felt a similar wind behind him. He turned and was met with a hug, you were hugging him. You finally released him from your strong grip, and smiled at him.

You told him what had happened that week. You and your dad both apologized to your mother that same night after their argument. She did give them both the silent treatment.

But in the end, they reconciled. The air is slightly tense still but it's slowly returning back to normal in your family home.

"Thank you Zane, I'm sorry I wasn't able to hang out with you this week.", "Don't worry about it. After all...

We have all of our life to be with each other."

JESUS THIS TOOK FOREVER IM SORRY

#◈justrae◈#◈ masterlist ◈#fluff #ninjago #fluffy #◈ information ◈#◈ fic ◈#rise of the guardians #jack frost #zane julien x reader #zane julien #ninjago zane #zane ninjago #fem!reader #oc mention

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