#hence why he was on the battlefield

[bethrnoora]

père matthieu should have been at the club. thomas should have been at his house (napping). delphine should have been lookin for worms at the creek

[david-talks-sw]

Debunking more myths in the GFFA: the Jedi and the clones.

I wrote a post debunking the various myths about how "the Jedi condone slavery", a while ago. Something I had omitted (because it's such a big topic) was the following two statements that concern the clone troopers' relations with the Jedi:

"The clones were genetically bred to have accelerated growth, so they're technically child soldiers."

"The clones were slaves of the Jedi."

Both the above statements are inaccurate, let's explore why. 

"The clones were child soldiers"

Let's get the easy one out of the way first, because it's a logic that cuts both ways. If age is our only determination of the maturity of a Star Wars character, then Grogu is not a baby. He is aged 50, and is thus a middle-aged man.

Who cruelly eats the babies of a woman...

... and knowingly tortures animals for his own sadistic pleasure.

Of course, I'm kidding. Grogu's none of the above things.

The narrative frames him as a cute baby who does innocent baby stuff. Him eating the eggs is played off as comedic, as is him lifting with the frog. To this day, some fans still call him "Baby Yoda".

Conversely, despite the clones being 10/14-years-old, their actions, behaviors, way of thinking, sense of humor, morals etc, are all those of an adult.

Like, Ahsoka is technically older than Rex in this scene.

The scene doesn't portray them as peers, though. This isn't written as "a teen and a tween talking". No, Rex looks, acts and behaves like a grown-up and is thus framed as such by the narrative.

You can make the argument "they're child soldiers", but (unless you're doing so in bad faith) you'd also have to argue that "Grogu's an adult".

"The clones were the Jedi's slaves"

Nope. For all intents and purposes, they're in the same boat as the Jedi, who George Lucas stated multiple times had been drafted to fight in the war.

Again: both the Jedi (monk/diplomats untrained for fighting on a battlefield) and clones (literally bred en masse only to fight) are being forced to fight by Palpatine and the Senate.

Though, on paper, the clones were commissioned by Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas, it was actually done by the Sith (who either manipulated or assassinated Sifo-Dyas then stole his identity, depending on the continuity you choose to adhere to). The rest of the Jedi had no idea these clones were being created.

So while the clones are slaves... they're not owned by the Jedi.

They're the army of the Republic, they belong to the Senate. This isn't exactly a scoop, they refer to the clones as something to purchase...

... and manufacture.

As far as the Senate’s concerned, clones are property, like droids. 

Like there's a whole subplot in The Bad Batch about this very point: after the war, the clones are decommissioned and left out to dry because they literally have no rights, they served their purpose.

The only trooper to ever canonically blame the Jedi for the clones' enslavement is Slick, who the narrative frames as having been bribed and manipulated by Asajj Ventress into betraying his comrades.

Also, the only canonical Jedi shown to ever be mean, dismissive or mistreating the clones in any way, is Pong Krell.

And it's eventually revealed he’s in fact a full-on traitor, hence why the story frames him as an antagonistic dick from the moment he's introduced. He doesn’t represent the Jedi in any way.

We know this because the other Jedi we’ve been shown are always prioritizing their clones’ lives over theirs, if given the chance.

Finally, if we wanna get even more specific... as Commander-in-Chief of the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR), the clones belong to Palpatine. 

Palpatine who is a Sith Lord. 

Palpatine who arranged for the creation of the clones and had them all injected with a chip that would activate upon hearing a code-word...

... and forced them to murder their Jedi without hesitation or remorse.

When you bear all that  ⬆️  in mind and when you read this quote by George Lucas...

"The Jedi won't lead droids. Their whole basis is connecting with the life force. They'd just say, 'That's not the way we operate. We don't function with non-life-forms.” So if there is to be a Republic army, it would have to be an army of humans."    - The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020  

... narratively-speaking, everything falls into place.

Sidious knows that:

If he orchestrates a war designed to thin the Jedi's numbers, corrupt their values and plunge the galaxy into chaos...

If he wants to draft the Jedi - peace-keeping diplomats who’d never willingly join the fray - to fight in his war...

... then the only way they won't resist the draft and abstain from fighting is if they think joining the conflict will save lives.

So he creates a set of cruel, sadistic villains for them to face, opponents who will target innocent civilians at every turn...

... and instead of lifeless droids, he prepares for the Jedi an army of men... living, mortal people who, despite being well-trained, will be completely out of their league when facing the likes of Dooku...

... Ventress...

... Grievous...

... Savage Opress...

... or the defoliator, a tank that annihilates organic matter.

Thus, in order to save as many clone and civilian lives, the Jedi join the fray despite knowing that doing so will corrupt their values. 

And as the war rages on, a bond of respect is formed between the two groups.

Clearly, the Jedi don't like the fact that the Republic is using the clones to fight a war, but for that matter, they don't like being in a war, in fact they advocated against it.

However, it's happening regardless of their issues with the idea or personal philosophies. Said The Clone Wars writer Henry Gilroy:

"I’d rather not get into the Jedi’s philosophical issues about an army of living beings created to fight, but the Jedi are in a tough spot themselves, being peacekeepers turned warriors trying to save the Republic."

And bear in mind, the Jedi are basically space psychics, the clones are living beings that they can individually feel in the Force... 

... so the Jedi feel every death but need to move on, regardless, only being able to mourn the troopers at the end of every battle.

We see this in the Legends continuity too, by the way.

(that is, when the writers actually try to engage with the narrative)

Also, if you ask the clones, they’re grateful the Jedi have their backs.

When Depa Billaba voices her concerns about how the war is impacting the Jedi's principles, troopers Grey and Styles are quick to make it clear how grateful they all are for the Jedi's involvement:

So the clones aren't the Jedi's slaves. If anything, they're both slaves of the Republic (considering how low the Jedi's status actually is in the hierarchy).

Only I'd argue the clones have it much, much worse. 

The Senate sees the Jedi as "ugh, the holier-than-thou space-monk lapdogs who work for us"... but a Jedi has the option to give up that responsibility. They can leave the Order, no fuss or stigma. 

A clone trooper cannot leave the GAR! If they do, they’re marked for treason and execution. Again, they’re not perceived as “people”.

And it doesn’t help that the Kaminoans, the clones’ very creators, see the troopers as products/units/merchandise. A notion that the Jedi are quick to correct whenever they get the chance.

How The Clone Wars writers describe the clones' relationship with the Jedi.

George Lucas hasn’t spoken much about this subject aside from the quote from further up. But to be fair... the Prequels aren’t about the clones’ dynamic with the Jedi, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t talk on that subject so much.

He did mention that part of The Clone Wars’ perks is that he could:

“Do stories about some of the individual clones and get to know them.”

But that’s as far as it gets. 

So for this part, I'm just gonna let Dave Filoni, showrunner of The Clone Wars and the upcoming series Ahsoka, and TCW writer Henry Gilroy - both of whom worked closely with Lucas - take the wheel. They make themselves pretty clear on how the clone/Jedi dynamic is meant to be viewed. 

Here’s Henry Gilroy:

"In my mind, the Jedi see the clones as individuals, living beings that have the same right to life as any other being, but understand that they have a job to do."

"The clones see the Jedi as their commanding officers on one hand, but also, at least subconsciously, they look to them for clues to social/moral behavior."    

"Some clones may find themselves getting philosophical leadership from the Jedi that helps them answer some of the deeper questions of life."    

"We thought this was a great opportunity to show how the Jedi interact with clones. Specifically, Yoda in a teaching role of the clones, who were socially new, who kind of grew up— who were created to fight, and he really broadened their horizons and helped them realize there was a great big universe out there that was bigger than just fighting and killing."    

And here’s Dave Filoni’s comments:

"I truly believe that the Jedi try to humanize their clones and make them more individual, as Henry says."    

"I think we saw that in Revenge of the Sith, when the Clones were colorful and named under the Jedi Generals, and then in the final shots of the film with Palpatine and Vader near the new Death Star, the ships are grey, the color and life is sucked out. The Stormtroopers are only numbers and identified by black and white armor or uniforms in A New Hope." 

"The soldiers have become disposable to the Emperor."    

"That is something the Jedi would never do."    

"Yoda teaching the clones much like he taught Luke. ‘Cause that was kind of natural for [the Jedi], a natural instinct to take to these clones like they’re students."    

None of the above quotes from two different writers of The Clone Wars, who had many interactions with George Lucas, frame the Jedi and the clones’ relationship in a negative way. 

How much more proof do we need that "the clones were slaves of the Jedi” isn’t the intended narrative?

My point being that while the clones' ordeal is indeed horrible, the Jedi have nothing to do with it. The narrative of The Clone Wars always frames it as the fault of the Sith, the Senate and the Kaminoans.

If you go by the intended narrative, the Jedi were the clones' teachers and brothers-in-arms. The clones and the Jedi were not just comrades.

They were friends.

[jinprint]

"was that its name?"

rewatching the acolyte (well, parts of it) and i am currently obsessed with reading into the dialogue with a slightly different perspective. like during jecki's death:

sol: jecki!

the stranger: was that its name?

sol: she was a child.

the stranger [shrugging]: you brought her here.

the first time i watched this scene, i totally thought qimir called jecki "it" at first just to be a dick. but it really speaks to the fact that qimir finds the jedi's values and philosophies to be inherently broken.

was jecki a soldier or a kid? pick one. was she a tool or a child? if she was the latter, why would you bring her here to hunt down a criminal that already killed two masters? obviously this is not a person who will hesitate to kill jedi.

you treated her it like a tool, and now you see the consequences of that unfold right before you; hence qimir makes a point of this. (also interesting to wonder how this could tie into his backstory with vernestra)

why would you bring a kid there? is it the enemy's fault when you choose to bring a child to the battlefield? is the enemy really responsible for her death, or you?

referring to jecki as "it" is, i think, a jab at the jedi for treating their padawan as tools, for choosing specific moments to humanize them or weaponize them (perhaps as his master did to him?) it's not because he didn't see her as a person—it's because he doesn't believe that the jedi truly did.

"the jedi live in a dream... an acolyte kills the dream."

but that's just my two cents.

[leedosbunnyboy]

Kyojuro Rengoku; The Fire Kindling in My Heart

Genre: Fluff, Implied Smut

Pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x Male Reader

Warning(s): Very narrative-driven, Slight feminization (Reader is referred to as a wife), Kyojuro and Reader bathe together, Implied bath s3x

Summary: Living with the love of your life can do a number on you, especially when you live every day wondering if he’ll even come back alive

Part II

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Ten years…

Ten years since you’ve first started living with the flame hashira’s family.

Kyojuro Rengoku, the flame hashira, was your best friend since you were kids. So whenever your parents were killed by a demon, it was only natural he’d invite you to live with his family.

You were eternally grateful for his kindness and did everything anything necessary to attempt to repay his kindness; however, Kyojuro never once asked anything of you, simply saying you being alive and within his presence was more than enough. Even now, Kyojuro was twenty and you were nineteen, he was still as caring as ever. Always bringing you gifts from his many missions.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You knew you liked the slayer. Hell, you’ve known since you were twelve. That was when Kyojuro held you as you cried on the second anniversary of your parents’ death. You wailed, you screamed, you looked a mess, all covered in snot and struggling to breathe, but Kyojuro never once judged you. He simply continued to hold you and you let you cry into his shoulder, whispering sweet words into your ear when you calmed enough to no longer be shaking. That’s when you knew, your heart belonged to him.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You weren’t any good with swords, hence why you never chose to pursue the path of a demon slayer. Kyojuro tried his best to teach you, but you simply couldn’t figure it out. Instead, you decided to learn medicine. If you couldn’t help Kyojuro on the battlefield, you could at least help him in the aftermath. While Kyojuro spent his days training to pass Final Selection, you would learn how to blend herbs and roots from the kind old doctor up the mountain. Returning home at night to prepare dinner for Kyojuro and his younger brother, Senjuro, as well as to clean out any scrapes the older might have received during his training. You would run a bath for the swordsman and massage his tense shoulders until he began to doze off. Afterwards, you would tuck in Senjuro for the night, making sure to read him his favorite stories. The younger always asking if he could grow up to be as brave as the heroes in his stories, and you always reassuring him that he would be even braver. You would then head to Kyojuro’s room and fall asleep in the slayer’s arms.

A warm feeling would arise in your chest every night. You loved this routine.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

When Kyojuro was promoted to a hashira, you couldn’t really bring yourself to be happy. First off, his missions almost always had him away from home, so now that he was an even higher rank, you knew there was almost no way he’d be home for a while. And second of all, he’s almost died multiple times, and now that he was a hashira, you knew you would have to get used to it. Every time you had to wipe his blood off his skin, every time you had to stitch a gaping cut, it pained you. You constantly worried for him, and now to know the man you cared for so deeply could die any day now, did nothing to ease your constant fear. But he assured you, “I’m very strong (M/n)! It is my duty to protect the weak. Of what use would my years of training be if i never used it to protect the weak?” God, he reminded you so much of his mother.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

By some miracle, Kyojuro had some time off. A week off specifically. A week of not having to worry about if he’d be killed on the battlefield, a week of not having to hold your breath each time a crow came to your residence out of fear of hearing of his death, just a week of relaxing with Kyojuro by your side.

However, fate had other ideas.

In the middle of his break, he was called via crow to report to his master’s residence. Lord Ubayashiki if you recall correctly. You’ve never met the man but you’ve heard great things.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

“Must you really go? I’m sure you can simply tell him all he needs to know in a letter.” You now stood at the entrance to the Rengoku estate. Barely catching up to the flame hashira on his way out:

“I wish it was that easy (M/n), but if the master requires my presence it must be important.” He held your hands, his fingers brushing over your knuckles in an attempt to calm your growing worry. “Hey, I fortunately still have 3 more days of my break, remember? When I return, I promise I won’t leave your side until my rest is over.” He flashed you that god-forsaken smile of his. The smile that calmed you down and had your heart beating faster than the speed of a shinobi.

“When you return, please hold me?” You looked up at the man, silently swearing him to hold up his end of the promise with just your eyes.

“I swear on my honor, (M/n).” And with that, he was on his way.

You watched until you could no longer see his bright hair over the tree line, before returning back to sit at the engawa, distracting yourself by counting the stars.

“You really love my brother, don’t you?” Asked a small voice.

“Is it really that obvious?” You chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course it is. Your face lights up every time you’re with him.” Senjuro comments as he moves to sit next to you.

“Then why doesn’t he say anything?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I doubt he’ll ever feel the same. He needs a strong hashira woman to marry, not a lowly pharmacist like me who can’t even wield a sword properly.” You wiped some stray tears away with the sleeve of your kimono. It was blue and had coi fish and lily pads as the design. Kyojuro bought it for you. He said you’d look pretty in it.

“You shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself (M/n),” Senjuro rested his hand on your shoulder, “I know my brother cares deeply for you. Why else would he invite you to live with us?”

“Because your brother is an honorable man who pities the weak. It was for no other reason than helping a pitiful boy who couldn’t even help his parents.” You clenched your hands into a fist as to not cry.

“Don’t say such things about yourself.” Senjuro shifted to rub your back. For such a young boy, Senjuro was very was mature for his age. I guess having to raise yourself due to having a drunkard as a father does that to a kid. “You know, Kyojuro told me he joined the slayers corp because of you.”

You turned towards the younger boy, surprise etched into every corner of your face.

“When he saw you that night ten years ago. Alone, all at the hands of a demon, he promised to not allow that to happen to anyone again. He said he made two promises that night; to kill all demons and to never let you be alone again.” Senjuro recounted, his smile brightening upon feeling your back relax.

“He truly cares for you (M/n). When he returns, please consider telling him about your feelings. I promise he won’t hate you, no- he can’t ever hate you.” Senjuro smiled at you.

“I will.” You wipe the remainder of the tears off your face. “Now, let’s get you back to bed, yeah?”

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Kyojuro returned by sunrise. Ubayashiki simply wanted to inform him of his next mission after his break.

He slowly crept into his home, peeping into his father’s room to see him sound asleep. Most likely due to alcohol rather than exhaustion, but at least he isn’t yelling at Senjuro, or god forbid, (M/n).

He then made his way to his room, but not before peeking into Senjuro’s room. His heart swelled at the sight of you resting with Senjuro in your hold, his head resting in the crook of your neck. A half-read story in your hands.

“Poor things. You both must’ve been very tired.” Kyojuro whispered as he moved to wrap you both in a blanket. You reached out a hand to grip his. “Oh, it’s you.” You stated, half-asleep. “I’m sorry (M/n). I didn’t mean to wake you.” He softly smiled. “No, it’s fine. I was about to awake anyways. Let me just lay Senjuro down and I’ll make us some breakfast alright?” You shifted to rest the younger Rengoku on his futon before tucking him in with a blanket. “Sounds good to me.” The flame hashira smiled as you dragged him out of his room and into the kitchen.

“Are you in the mood for anything specific?” You asked as you wrapped an apron around your waist. “Some miso soup would be amazing!” He stated. “With sweet potatoes i assume?” You smiled back to him. “You know me so well.” The flame hashira chuckled heartily. “Well of course I would know what my best friend likes.” Not to mention how i’m crazy in love with you you thought.

Just before you could finish the meal, a very annoyed and very hungover Shinjuro came barging into the kitchen. His eyes glanced over to Kyojuro before a look of disgust overtook his face.

“Sir Shinjuro. Would you like some miso soup as well?” You offered. Mostly to break the uncomfortable silence which had overtaken the area.

“Sure, sure, whatever.” Kyojuro’s father had never particularly hated you, in fact, the flame hashira might even go as far as to say his father liked you. Well, he’s never shown it, but he’s also never yelled at you, and according to Kyojuro those are the same things.

You smiled towards the retired hashira before preparing three bowls of soup, as well as an extra for when Senjuro decided to wake up. Normally Shinjuro would have him up at this hour but you decided to let him sleep in just a bit longer. You brought over the bowls and set them in front of the two men before taking your seat beside Kyojuro, apron still wrapped around your waist.

“Is it good?” You asked Kyojuro. “Of course it is! Everything you make is delicious (M/n)!” The flame hashira would say before wolfing down the entire bowl. “Tasty!” You chuckled at his antics. “Shall i get you some more?” He nodded and you arose to pour him some more.

“He has two arms and two legs (M/n). I’m pretty sure he can pour his own soup.” Shinjuro would remark as you stood. “It’s completely fine. I have no issue with it.” You stated once you returned with Kyojuro’s bowl. “He is a hashira. It won’t kill him to get up every once in a while. He doesn’t need you to be waiting on him hand and foot-“ “That’s enough father.” Kyojuro interrupted. “I would never ask something of (M/n) if it were to hinder him. Now please let us eat in peace.” Shinjuro tsked before continuing to eat. “Say, Kyojuro. Why don’t you get that wife of yours to go wake up Senjuro. He has to start training soon.” A blush found its way to both your and Kyojuro’s faces at the comment. “I-I’ll go get Senjuro.” You quickly stood and scurried to the younger’s room. “I can run you a bath if you’d like Kyojuro?” You offered before you fully exited the kitchen. “That would be lovely (M/n), *cough* thank you.” He stated, face still red and clearly flustered.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

“Thank you (M/n). This is wonderful.” Kyojuro said as he sunk into the warm water. “It’s no problem at all Kyojuro.” You smiled at him and began to work on massaging his tense muscles.

“About what my father said, I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.” The flame hashira said as he relaxed into your touch. “It’s completely fine.” You contemplated on whether or not to say what was on your mind. “I actually kind of liked it.” You whispered, but Kyojuro heard you.

“Oh?” He leaned his head back to make eye contact with you. “Would you enjoy being my wife? Would you like to wait here for me on my missions and then when I’d return, I’d hold you and whisper sweet things into your ear?” Kyojuro teased. His smiled widened as he saw your ears begin to turn red. “Well, I already kind of do that.” You said, attempting to distract yourself by working on kneading the older’s tense muscles.

“(M/n)…” Kyojuro called. “Hmm?” You cautiously looked up at him. “Could you please join me?” You swear you could feel your face turn darker than a beet, but you complied nonetheless.

Now you found your back resting against the chest of the flame hashira as he worked on cleaning your hair.

“How long have you wanted to be my wife?” Kyojuro teased. “Since we were kids. I’ve always admired you Kyojuro. Your resolve, your determination, your kindness, your pure heart, all of it made me fall deeper and deeper in love with you.” You finally admitted what you’d been holding with you for the past seven years. “What if I told you I felt the same?” Kyojuro asked. His hand falling from your hair to hold your hands. “Are you sure it’s not just because we’re both naked and pressed against each other?” You joked. “Well not that I don’t enjoy this, but it’s not at all the reason.” He pulled you closer to him. “All I do is for you. Joining the demon slayer corp, training hard to become a hashira, waking up in the morning, it’s all for you (M/n). While I’m away on missions, all I do is long to come home and see your beautiful smile while you’re reading to Senjuro. To hold you while you work on whatever new interest captures your attention. To taste your amazing cooking. To simply be around you is my will to live. You’re my everything (M/n).”

“But I am a man. You deserve a strong woman to carry your bloodline. Hell, I can’t even wield a sword correctly, how do you expect me to be good enough-“ Kyojuro’s lips met with yours. “Please stop speaking such nonsense. I don’t need a bloodline, I only need you (M/n).” A comfortable silence overtook the bathroom as he simply held you. Relishing in the presence of each other.

“I’ll tell you what (M/n). After this mission is over, I will marry you. How does that sound?” Your heart was beating uncontrollably. “Hello?” Kyojuro giggled as he caught sight of your flustered expression. “Don’t laugh at me! The man I’ve been in love with just expressed his feelings towards me and asked me to marry him in the same hour.” You slapped his chest as he continued to laugh. “Well, do you accept?” He looked into your eyes. “Of course!” Kyojuro smiled and captured your lips again. “Good, now let me show you just how much I love you.”

You two became one beneath that water. Much to the dismay of Shinjuro’s ears.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

As quickly as he returned, he had to leave yet again. Now you stood again at the gate of the estate. Kyojuro’s hands in yours as you begged for him not leave.

“I must go love. This mission is important.” Kyojuro chuckled as you continued to cling to him.

“Come back safely. You owe me a wedding!” You whined.

Kyojuro nodded and brought your lips to his. Holding you tightly and he hoped you would feel all his love.

“Promise you’ll return to me.” You held out your pinky to him.

He intertwined your fingers and kissed your knuckle. “Promise.”

“Say… what kind of mission are you even going on?”

“Something to do with a train. I’m sure it won’t be hard. I’ll be back quickly!”

[moonselune]

Eyooo was wandering if u could do the ladies reacting to a gn Tav using their entire body to shield the women from a fireball blast? Like they hear the spellcaster going for it and they just engulf the ladies in what is essentially a bear hug that fully covers the ladies so they don't get affected by the blast please?

Icl all I thought about whilst writing this was the Sean Paul 'Fireball' song, hence why this came out less angsty lmao

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The battlefield was chaos, a cacophony of clashing steel and arcane energy. Amidst the fray, you spotted the enemy spellcaster, their hands already weaving the intricate patterns of a fireball spell. Your heart lurched as you realized the blast was aimed directly at Karlach, her back turned as she fought off a group of gnolls.

Without a second thought, you surged forward, throwing yourself between Karlach and the impending explosion. Wrapping her in a tight embrace, you used your entire body to shield her from the blast, feeling the heat and force of the fireball scorch your back. The pain was immediate and intense, but you held on, determined to protect her.

As the fireball dissipated, you slumped to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Karlach spun around, her eyes wide with horror and fury.

"Are you out of your mind?" she roared, her voice a mix of anger and concern. "I’m literally fire resistant, you idiot! I'm basically on fire 24/7. Why did you do that?"

You managed a weak smile, your voice barely a whisper. "Couldn't risk it… didn't want you to get hurt."

Karlach knelt beside you, her hands shaking as she tried to assess your injuries. "You're a damn fool," she muttered, her tone softening as she saw the extent of your burns. "But you're my damn fool."

Shadowheart arrived, her face set in a mask of concentration as she began to cast healing spells. Karlach stayed by your side, her anger giving way to a fierce protectiveness.

"You're not doing that again, you hear me?" Karlach said, her voice choked with emotion. "You can't keep risking yourself like this."

Despite the pain, you reached up to touch her cheek. "I'll always protect you, Karlach. Always."

Her eyes softened, and she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I'll always protect you, too. So no more heroics, okay?"

You nodded weakly, comforted by her presence and the knowledge that, and despite your recklessness, Karlach would always be there for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The din of battle was deafening, and amidst the chaos, you heard the ominous chanting of a fireball spell. Your heart raced as you saw it aimed straight at Minthara. Without hesitation, you sprinted towards her, your body moving on instinct.

"Get down!" you shouted, throwing yourself around her in a protective bear hug.

"What are you—" Minthara began, but her words were cut off as the fireball erupted against your back.

The intense heat seared your flesh, the pain nearly unbearable. You grit your teeth, holding Minthara tightly to shield her from the worst of the blast. The flames licked around you, but you refused to let go until the fire had passed.

When the magic finally dissipated, you crumpled to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Minthara immediately knelt beside you, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and worry.

"You fool!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "There was no need for this. I could have taken the hit."

You coughed weakly, managing a small, pained smile. "Couldn't risk it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Had to protect you."

Minthara's expression softened ever so slightly, but she still looked furious. "You reckless idiot," she muttered, her hands moving to cast a healing spell over you. Divine energy flowed from her fingers, mending your burnt flesh and easing your pain.

As she worked, Minthara glanced over her shoulder and barked, "Shadowheart, tend to Gale. He's likely to get himself killed without supervision."

Shadowheart nodded and moved to attend to Gale, leaving Minthara to focus on you. She continued to channel healing energy, her touch surprisingly gentle.

"You should not have done that," Minthara said quietly, her anger giving way to a more vulnerable tone. "Your life is just as important as mine."

You reached up, your hand trembling, to touch her cheek. "I couldn't let anything happen to you," you murmured. "Not while I could still do something about it."

Minthara sighed, her eyes closing briefly as she leaned into your touch. "You are a stubborn one," she said softly. "But I suppose I cannot fault you for your loyalty."

She finished her healing spell, the light fading as she helped you sit up. "Just promise me you won't throw yourself into danger so recklessly again," she said, her eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of sternness and concern.

"I'll try," you said, knowing full well that it was a promise easier said than done. Minthara shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You're impossible," she murmured, but there was a warmth in her gaze as she helped you to your feet.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The battlefield was a chaotic clashing of weapons and arcane spells. Amidst it all, you fought alongside Lae'zel, your heart pounding with the rhythm of combat. Suddenly, a sinister voice rang out from the enemy ranks, casting a familiar and dreaded incantation. Ignis.

Your instincts took over. You saw the spellcaster hurling a bead of intense flame towards your group, its trajectory set to engulf Lae'zel. Without a second thought, you lunged towards her, wrapping your arms around her in a protective embrace. Your larger frame enveloped hers completely, creating a shield with your body.

The explosion was deafening. Heat seared through your clothes, burning your skin, but you held firm, refusing to let go. The pain was a distant sensation compared to your determination to protect Lae'zel. When the flames finally dissipated, you collapsed to the ground, smoke rising from your charred body.Lae'zel disentangled herself from your embrace, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and fury.

"Why did you do that, you fool?" she demanded, her voice trembling despite its harshness. "I am a warrior, stronger and more resilient than you. Sacrificing yourself was unnecessary!"

You managed a weak smile, your voice raspy from the pain. "Lae'zel, I love you… but you need to shut up and go get Shadowheart. Now."

For a moment, she seemed to struggle with her emotions, her grip tightening on her weapon. Then, with a frustrated growl, she nodded and sprinted towards the camp.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The battle was fierce, with spells and steel clashing in a chaotic dance of death. You and Shadowheart were in the thick of it, fighting side by side against a band of ruthless mercenaries. The enemy, seeing the tide turning against them, began chanting the incantation for a fireball, the air around him crackling with arcane energy.

You heard the familiar and dreaded sound of the spell being prepared and saw the fiery orb forming in the enemy's hands. Your eyes darted to Shadowheart, who was focused on healing an injured companion, her back turned to the imminent danger.

Without a second thought, you launched yourself towards her, engulfing her in a protective embrace. Your arms wrapped around her tightly, and you spun around, placing your body between her and the incoming fireball. The moment seemed to stretch into an eternity as the world around you slowed down.

"What are you—" Shadowheart started to protest, but her words were cut off by the deafening roar of the explosion.

The fireball hit, and the searing heat and force of the blast tore through you. Pain unlike anything you had ever felt surged through your body, but you held on, using every ounce of your strength to shield Shadowheart from the brunt of the attack. The flames licked at your skin, burning and blistering, but you refused to let go. Your only thought was to keep her safe.

When the flames finally subsided, you collapsed to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Shadowheart, unharmed but wide-eyed with shock, immediately pushed herself up and turned to you.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of anger and worry. “What were you thinking? That was so stupid, you idiot!”

You managed a pained smile, your voice weak but filled with determination. “There was no sense in the healer getting hurt,” you croaked. “We need you to keep everyone else alive.”

Shadowheart’s expression softened, though her eyes still blazed with a mix of emotions. She knelt beside you, her hands already glowing with the healing magic of Selûne. “You reckless fool,” she muttered, but there was a tenderness in her tone. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” you replied, wincing as the healing energy began to mend your burns. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Her hands moved over your wounds, the light of her healing magic soothing the pain and repairing the damage. She worked quickly and efficiently, but her touch was gentle, almost reverent. “Next time, let me handle the danger,” she scolded, though her voice was soft. “You’re too important to risk like that.”

“I’ll try,” you said with a faint smile, feeling the pain ebb away as her magic did its work. “But no promises. I’d do anything to protect you.”

Shadowheart sighed, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, finishing her healing spell. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But I suppose that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“I love you too, Shadowheart,” you whispered. You reached up, your fingers lightly brushing her cheek, then with a final surge of healing energy, she restored your strength, the burns on your skin fading away.

“There,” she said, helping you to your feet. “Try not to get yourself killed, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The skirmish was intense, the air thick with the scent of ozone and blood. You fought side by side with Jaheira, her movements a graceful dance of deadly precision. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw an enemy mage chanting, his hands weaving an ominous pattern in the air. One you recognised as 'Fireball'.

Your heart lurched. You knew the spell well and its devastating potential. Without hesitation, you threw yourself towards Jaheira, wrapping her in a bear hug that used your body as a shield. The world exploded in a torrent of flame, pain scorching every nerve ending as you took the full brunt of the blast.

When the flames subsided, you fell to the ground, your body smoking and charred. Jaheira gently extricated herself from your grip, her eyes filled with concern and something deeper.

"Why?" she asked softly, kneeling beside you. "Why would you take such a risk?"

You managed a pained chuckle, wincing at the effort. "Because, Jaheira, your ancient bones are just too flammable."

A spark of amusement flickered in her eyes, though it was tempered by worry. "If you weren't already burnt to a crisp, I would hit you."

You smiled weakly. "Just get Shadowheart. I might not be able to take another one of those for your brittle bones,"

Jaheira squeezed your hand briefly, her expression softening with tenderness. "Stay strong, my dearest," she murmured, before hurrying off to find Shadowheart.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

What do we think about adding Jaheira to the main roster of BG3 ladies, pls lmk because I may start adding her - Seluney xox

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Megathread: All Clues concerning “Elrond = Sauron” in “Adar meeting/Kiss scene” (2x07) - Part II

Part I

III) The Aftermath

"What do your Maiar eyes see?"

In the night after the tent scene, we have a scene of Sauron looking over the Orc camp, with anxiety and worry on his face.

No one is watching Sauron doing this (he has his back turned on Celebrimbor). Why is he looking so worried? We know for sure he isn’t concerned about the battle because everything is happening according to his plan... except for one thing (Galadriel wasn't suppose to be Adar's prisoner). Or... is he trying to see if the “seeds he planted” at the Orc camp are finally breaking free? 

He's also strangely emotional in this whole scene:

"Arondir Ex machina":

At the beginning of the “Sauron’s worried sick” scene, we see him with his eyes closed, as if he’s performing some sort of sorcery. But we aren’t shown what he was doing. Celebrimbor is working on the Nine, so he wasn’t doing anything to him.

When Galadriel finally breaks free, it’s Arondir who shows up to “save the day”.

And Galadriel says the strangest thing: “Whatever force it was that brought you here, soldier, I am grateful for it. Come, I know a hidden way into the city. We must find Sauron." Hmm...

Adar's Death

Adar's death scene in 2x08 appears to parallel a scene we already saw on "Rings of Power". And I'm not talking about the opening scene of 2x01, which is the obvious answer.

In 2x06, when Halbrand/Sauron wants to kill Adar, for the first time, in the middle of the woods, but is stopped from doing so by Galadriel. During this scene, Adar tries to make sense of why this "mortal man" wants to kill him:

"A woman? A child?" Adar asks Halbrand/Sauron.

At this moment, in particular, this interaction was meant to be a clue towards Halbrand’s true identity (“he is Sauron”), because of Adar being the one responsible for destroying his previous physical form in betrayal. Halbrand wants to kill Adar with a spear (Sauron’s weapon of choice). 

However, in 2x07, Adar really does causes pain to the woman (she-elf) that Sauron loves. At the Battle of Eregion, Adar displays Galadriel trapped in a cage, and has one of his Orcs pierce and bled her neck with... a spear. 

And how does Sauron have Adar killed, at the end? In the middle of woods, like he meant to in 1x06. Using his children to cause him pain, and kill him. And Sauron does it in front of Galadriel, the woman he loves and was, previously, hurt by Adar. 

There are more references to 1x06 in 2x08, because when Sauron appears as Halbrand, he repeats to Galadriel his words to her in those same woods he wished to kill Adar.

Hence: this parallel can mean that Sauron, in fact, witnessed Adar flaunting and hurting Galadriel on the battlefield.

"What did you expect, mate?"

Galadriel: All this... was your design from the beginning. Sauron: Please. You think too much of me. The road goes ever winding. Not even I can see all its paths.

As I’ve already theorized on my “last temptation” post, Sauron went up there to collect everything that belongs to him: Morgoth’s crown and sword, the Nine, Nenya and Galadriel herself. However, he somehow believes that Galadriel will just accept him.

Sauron’s reaction to Galadriel trying to kill him, in 2x08, is actually hilarious, because he looks outraged: "why are you trying to kill me?

Is Sauron this self-deceiving and lacks so much self-awareness that he was really expecting Galadriel to forgave all of his recent atrocities with Celebrimbor (mostly) and bind herself to him, freely? This doesn’t make any sense, unless he already asked for Galadriel’s forgiveness in advance and proved himself in someway.  

And Sauron might think that Galadriel recognized him in that tent. But she didn’t. And what does she says to Elrond when he asks for her forgiveness? 

And, so, Sauron arrives all victorious and ready to reclaim his “reward”. Only to find Galadriel is not going to join him, let alone bind herself to him, freely. And then, he goes for plan B.  

Glûg's Death

Glûg's death has "well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions" vibes for having betrayed Adar and sided with Sauron, instead.

Tolkien never specifically wrote about the Orcs lifespans: we know they aren’t immortal like the moriondor (Adar and the other Elves corrupted by Morgoth) and they reproduce like every other “humanoid” being. Meaning, Glûg has never met Sauron before, and has only heard the tales. He was already suspicious that Adar was sacrificing the Orcs for nothing, with other Orcs believing he was chasing a ghost. Well, when Glûg meets Sauron for the first time, he’s shocked to discover that he’s not terrible or cruel like he was told, but rather “nice” and soft-spoken (even asking his name). And, so, Glûg has the confirmation that Adar was, in fact, wrong and killing off his children for nothing... (well, he came to regret that at the end). 

However, Glûg is the one who places a blade at Galadriel’s neck during the “Adar and Elrond tent scene” in 2x07, and we see Elrond’s reaction to it. And so, if Adar was to give the order, it would have been Glûg who would kill Galadriel in that scene.

In 2x08, Sauron kills Glûg after Galadriel throws herself off a cliff.

Many assume this was done in a rage fit, but this isn’t Sauron’s character. And he already lost control with Celebrimbor in this episode and that’s why, according to Charlie Vickers, he cries in that scene: Sauron recalls his time at Morgoth’s side and doesn’t want to end up destructive and nihilist like his master was.

So I would argue the “rage fit” explanation is not it. Could it be, that Sauron - who is always gaslighting others and in self-denial trying to find justifications for his own actions and project them onto others (as Celebrimbor told him in 2x07) - kills Glûg because this Orc was the last being he saw threatening Galadriel’s life? And projects his own guilt onto him? And how could he know that, unless he was the “Elrond” in the room? Because Sauron is powerful, but he isn’t able to see everything just yet. 

IV) Plot holes:

Plot holes from 2x06 and 2x07 that only make sense if it's Sauron and not Elrond in that tent with Adar.

What did the corpse that showed up at Eregion in 2x06 truly said for Sauron to react in such way (when no one was looking at him)?

Clearly it didn't say "Where is he?" because Halbrand/Sauron was the one who told Adar that "Sauron" was in Eregion, in 2x01, to plant the seeds for the Battle of Eregion.

This could also explain where Sauron got the pin. We know Galadriel loses her cloak and pin in 2x04, when she faces the Orcs and gets captured by Adar. If Sauron was keeping an eye on her (pun non intended), he could have retrieved her pin there. And this would also explain Sauron's reaction to the corpse in 2x06: it was a message from Adar revealing that he had Galadriel in captivity. 

Why didn't Adar take Nenya (nor even checked) from Elrond in that scene?

It was the ring he wanted to destroy Sauron. Why sacrifice more Orcs and waste time? And what guarantee did Adar have he would see Elrond again, alive or even with the ring on his possession? Was it only because Adar had a "flair for the dramatics"?

And why does Adar looks into Elrond's eyes before lifting him up (to make sure it's actually him?)?

Why, after obsessing over her for the whole season, we, the audience, didn’t get to see Sauron’s reaction to Galadriel being locked in a cage?

Sauron was at the walls of Eregion with Celebrimbor and the guards when the Elven army arrives, and the scene shows him looking in their direction. Are you telling me the "mastermind" behind this battle wasn't interested in knowing what would happen next!?

Note:

If the only the argument against this theory is that Robert Aramayo and the showrunners already gave interviews explaining the kiss, I would like to recall that Charlie Vickers spent the whole of Season 1 promotion saying that “Halbrand is just a man”, or them saying that “Haladriel wasn’t romantic” for two whole years. And, apparently, Galadriel has been in love with Halbrand, all along (and this was only revealed after Season 2 finale).

I would advise my fellow fans not to placed too much trust in interviews concerning this theory, or any other, really. “Rings of Power” follows the “Game of Thrones” formula: it’s a show full of mystery boxes and plot twists, sometimes from one season to the next.

The only question here is: will Season 3 reveal it or it will be an abandoned plot, or left ambiguous.

[moltengoldveins]

so we can all agree that the newest 2WEI song (take the crown) is the trailer song for an Antarctic Empires Emerald Duo pg14 movie where Techno is a gladiator who earned his freedom and has vowed to destroy the government that enslaved him and Philza is an old demigod banished to a solitary plane of existence for five decades after attempting to run a coup against the ruling class.

They meet on a battlefield, Techno having joined up as brute muscle and Phil having used some minor illusions to pass as a quirky avian and join the bombardment team. Combining some similar plot beats as Oceans 11 and Atlantis: The Lost Empire, they gather a specialized team of insurrectionists, anarchists, battle mages, and warriors to take down the imperium from the inside, eventually planning on restoring the nation to the democracy it was in Phil’s earliest memories. But will they manage it, or will their bloody pasts and violent present seat Technoblade on the throne as the Antarctic Emperor, with Philza as his right hand, the Angel of Death? (Spoiler, the second option. It’s the most controversial film finale decision of the decade.)

The movie is filmed in a style somewhere between Dune 1, the Prince of Egypt, and Topgun. (denis villeneuve is too busy and too expensive, but it’s clear they’re taking inspiration. Bold colors and lighting and a lot of shots of the sky, wildlife, architecture, or of characters’ hands.) It’s scored by an up and coming indie musician, working under the consultation of Ludwig Gorannson in his spare time as a pet project, though his association with the film doesn’t really come out until it Smashes the expected theatre income in the first two days of release and critics start Raving about it. Techno’s actor is nominated for an Oscar for one of the most compelling intricate portrayals of ptsd and platonic devotion in modern cinema, but doesn’t actually get the Oscar.

Tumblr is flooded with gif sets of Techno in the Obligatory No Armor After Gladiator Fight Scene and the Late Night Vibing With Phil In A Loose Poet Shirt scene (firelit, lots of closeups of his eyes, the film is obviously attempting to express his complex emotional state and his deep relationship with Phil, and is failing miserably at doing Anything but making him hot. The internet is ✨gay✨ about it, because when is the internet not?) Also most of the simps are calling Phil a dilf.

Fit MC is the fan-favorite side character, his four scenes and nine lines of dialogue are clipped and edited and giffed and memed into the dirt. (His armor and prosthetic, the makeup and costuming department say, were the hardest thing to do in the entire film, which is why he isn’t in too many shots.) Though, a close second is Niki, who is played by a woman built like a brick house who doesn’t wear sleeves, so…. Yeah. We all know what the response is there. The effects, including Phil’s wings, are almost entirely practical and the only real places it gets iffy is Steve, the giant war polar bear that’s pretty clearly clipping through a few snowbanks here and there. Nobody can agree on which characters are morally reprehensible.

Within a few years, very few people outside a dedicated fan base have seen it and a few assume it’s made up like Goncharov. It’s also, for some ungodly reason, been labeled a Christmas film. (most of the plot happens in the ice and snow, hence ‘Antarctic Empire.’) I guess nothing says ‘Christmas spirit’ quite like ‘unmitigated violence, platonic yearning, and overthrowing oppressors.’

[xuchiya]

c.san {my sweet frosting}

cafe love m.list || k.hongjoong || p.seonghwa || j.yunho || k.yeosang || c.san || s.mingi || j.wooyoung || c.jongho

The aroma of freshly baked cupcakes wafted through the air, a siren song that led you straight to Cafe Love, you were new to the whole city of Seoul— a foreigner— so with this smell as you first took your walk in the morning. And now with the love of the smell and the love for food decorating, you caught yourself a job, not so far from your apartment.

 Inside, the staff bustled about, each with a designated role – the barista with a practised flick of the wrist pouring latte art, the cashier rattling off witty greetings, and a girl, hair a mess of sunshine curls, haphazardly placing cupcakes in the glass display case.

That girl, is you, was the embodiment of "charmingly clumsy." You earned that nickname when you accidentally ran your hand on your hair whilst it was dirty with flour, creating highlights of white on your black hair. The baker shakes his head, patting your head as to help you clean your hair and to also congratulate you for getting yourself a job as the food decor.  

As you fumbled with a particularly frosted blueberry muffin, a voice, smooth as caramel, startled me, "Excuse me, miss?" 

“Yes sir?” Turning, you bumped into the cupcake stand but your eyes immediately settled on the man, tall and handsome with kind eyes hence looking like a cat glaring eyes, pointed to his own cheek, a question in his gaze. Mortified, you mirrored his action yet no clue why you were copying him.

Your fingers, however, seemed determined to paint stripes across your nose instead. Another swipe, another miss. By the third attempt, your cheeks resembled a battlefield of frosting and flour.

Before you could self-destruct entirely by embarrassing yourself by copying the man without knowing you were making a huge mess on your face. A whole canvas of frosting and flour on your cheeks, nose and forehead. The man stepped forward, a gentle smile playing on his lips. With a practised ease that hinted at similar clumsiness in his past, he brushed the frosting and flours off your face with his napkin.

And that moment there, time seemed to slow down, everything seemed to blur except for the man in front of you; he is the definition of a ‘chivalry is not dead’. It was just the two of you, the gentle brush of his fingers, the sweet scent of the cafe, and a warmth spreading through me, not just from the embarrassment.

Suddenly, a booming voice jolted us back to reality. "San, my man! People are waiting for their macchiatos!" Your eyes and his attention diverted to Wooyoung, who had a frown look on his face; both you and San’s face turned red.

The man, "San" apparently, chuckled. "Okay okay Woo, I’m just grabbing my muffin." He winked at you, a silent promise of a proper conversation later. "It was, uh, nice meeting you… Miss Frost." Your cheeks burned hotter than a fresh cup of coffee, but a smile stretched across your face. "It was also nice meeting you, San."

He waves goodbye to you, turning to Wooyoung, “See you tomorrow Woo!” You watch him turn a corner, disappearing completely out of your sight. You sigh in content, your hand gripping a soft cloth on your fist. You look down to see a handkerchief with an initial of ‘C.S’ on the edge of the cloth, you immediately think of the S to be the same man, San.

You panic for a bit until you notice a note inside, you pull it out to see a small piece of paper, revealing the letter inside; you read silently.

‘If it wasn’t for the frosting on your cheek, I wouldn’t be able to talk to you. Though whether you have frosting or not, I would still dare myself to talk to you.

' I’ll come back here again so you could return this handkerchief and maybe, your name too and also can I also ask for a date to where I can take you?’ 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of smiles and leap of heart as you continued working whilst thinking of the feline eye gentleman. Your cheeks aching at the thought of the next day and the cloth gleaming silently inside your apron as you finish up your frosting on the cupcakes and muffin displays. 

San looked at the paper bag at the corner of his office table with a small lettering on it.

‘Enjoy Mr. Frost.’ 

He chuckles at your attempt but his heart soars at the thought of leaving you a note and his attempt of asking you out. He looks forward to seeing you again and maybe this time, he will be smudged with your colorful life.

[thewertsearch]

Though we adore Him we shall never enjoy His beauteous Croak.

Kind of fucked that Sburb still programs reverence for the Genesis Frog into the Prospitians of unwinnable sessions. It gave them a god they can never see.

We spill our blood on acres of black and white so they may cross the yellow yard.

So this is what Hussie was hinting at.

Since Rose has recently gone full Lovecraft, I suspect the 'yellow yard' is an intentional reference to the Yellow Sign, a symbol associated with the Cthulhu Mythos. If the kids' escape hatch is something this eldritch, then it almost certainly involves the Furthest Ring.

At last in Skaia's reflection through broken glass He may find the pond in which He's meant to squat.

This seems to confirm that the reboot session is winnable - and it sounds like Jade's Genesis Tadpole will be making the trip there.

The Scratched version of Jade will be able to benefit from her predecessor's work. Assuming she's still a Space Player after the reboot, I guess.

This is a book on theoretical physics, and complex spatial geometries based on the hypothetical addition of orbs to the queen's ring.

Oh, come on. You can't tease me like that and then not show me a fifty-dimensional Battlefield.

This sort of nonsense is regarded as crackpottery at best. Why would the queen ever wear more than four orbs? Four towers, four orbs, four heroes; this is a sacred truth.

There's something a little disturbing about the Carapacian inability to comprehend other sessions - especially since it's completely in-character for Sburb to deliberately engineer their brains that way.

I'm picturing a Player trying to explain to her Exile that their Prospit is one of many, and the knowledge just... slides out of their mind.

Holy shit, WQ!

You know, this is probably the most human thing that we've ever seen a Carapacian do. The ability to create art is completely irreconcilable with their NPC status - and it makes it all the more tragic that they're doomed by the game.

Writers of Prospitian fiction tend to write what they see in clouds. Hence their fables tend to be events which simply haven't happened yet, or happened in another realm. They like to use the word fiction so that kids don't get TOO scared.

Jack couldn't see into the clouds, but Prospitians can. You clearly don't have to be a Player to use them, but you do have to be on the Prospit side of the spectrum.

[saintsenara]

a duo i'd love to hear your thoughts on: bellatrix & harry (or even bellatrix/harry)

thank you very much for the ask, pal! an extremely interesting duo to think about.

and, obviously, the thing we have to immediately acknowledge is that harry thinks bellatrix is hot. he's always going on about her heaving breasts and shiny hair [and shiny hair is something he does seem to have a thing for throughout canon - hence why he spends one of his owl exams staring at parvati's], and she's definitely his "hear me out" candidate...

[i think if he's forced by ron to play fuck, marry, kill about the black sisters... he's fucking bella. he's depressed for weeks when he realises.]

more seriously, though, the thing which really stands out in harry and bellatrix's canonical relationship is that he sees her primarily as a catalyst - and, above all, primarily as a catalyst for loss - but in a way which feels strangely impersonal given the profundity of this loss to him.

she kills sirius - but harry can't summon up the rage to use the cruciatus curse against her [even though he can against amycus carrow, whom he has never met and whose crime is the considerably more minor spitting at mcgonagall]. she almost kills ginny - and harry "changes course at once" to try and protect her - but the person who gets there first and who finishes bellatrix off is molly.

and while i don't think this is strange because i think molly wouldn't have the skills to duel bellatrix, i do think it's fairly strange narratively. bellatrix's death mirrors sirius' to such an extent - right down to the fact that she dies laughing - that it would have been an interesting conceit to have harry avenging his godfather by standing in as sirius' surrogate for a repeat of the duel before the veil, which then allows sirius to be avenged when the outcome is reversed...

[although what i do like about the molly-bellatrix duel in canon is that voldemort ends up in the position his narrative mirror, harry, is in during the sirius-bellatrix duel - watching the one person he thought would never abandon him die.]

and so harry sees bellatrix as an agent of chaos - and he utterly loathes her - but he also sees the chaos she causes as, fundamentally, voldemort's fault. he views her as a puppet, a tool, a pawn - as so totally enamoured by the dark lord that she lacks any capacity for critical thinking - rather than ever seeming to understand her as her own person.

[him taunting her in order of the phoenix by pointing out voldemort's a half-blood always stands out to me when thinking about this - lucius malfoy isn't shocked at all by the revelation, but bellatrix is. it underlines the point made by her behaviour at her trial, which harry witnesses in goblet of fire - that her loyalty to voldemort is so absolute that it makes her deluded, and that she exists for him rather than for herself.]

equally, bellatrix clearly sees him as just a thing - an annoyance which voldemort just needs to eradicate - rather than a person.

and so i think that one of the very interesting "harry and bellatrix actually having to get to know each other" questions is what journey they would go on in order to understand the other as a real person. my favourite iteration of this - as i've said here - is to write bellatrix's non-battlefield personality as surprisingly similar to tonks', and to have harry having to face the fact that a woman he hates could be so much like a woman he adores. you can also obviously do the same with him having to realise she's very like sirius.

and her having to realise that harry is very like voldemort.

because the other thing which i think is fascinating about thinking about harry and bellatrix is that the best parallel for hinny in the text isn't ron and hermione, and nor is it james and lily...

it's bellamort.

i believe that harry's canonical love for ginny is completely genuine - and i accept that by the epilogue they will have settled into a relationship with a more equal dynamic - but it's very striking in the pre-epilogue canon that the power dynamic between the two is very much unequal.

harry's narrative purpose means that he has to be set apart from all others - even ron and hermione - in order for him to properly function as the encapsulation of all that is good [and as the series' allegory for christ]. as a result, he tends to interact with other characters either as people he needs to protect, or as people he needs to protect others from.

and we see this in his relationship with ginny at the end of half-blood prince, when he breaks up with her for - what he sees as - her own protection, in the belief that being associated with him will put her at risk from voldemort.

harry believes that separating himself from her is sufficient to bring ginny this protection, he never considers her to have the talent to fight voldemort herself - even though he acknowledges her as a skilled fighter elsewhere in the text - and he spends much of deathly hallows believing that he has guaranteed ginny's safety. he thinks of hogwarts as a safe-haven throughout his time on the horcrux hunt - and he is genuinely shocked to discover how bad the carrows' regime has been when he arrives at the castle immediately prior to the battle - and he treats ginny's role as a resistance leader in her own right [such as her attempt to steal the sword of gryffindor] as, essentially, a bit of a laugh.

for her part, ginny is set up in the text as ferociously loyal to harry - "i never gave up on you" - and as someone whose company he desires and values in a distinct way, but whose relationship with him is unbalanced by the paternalistic vibe of their power dynamic. harry is more honest with her than with many other people, for example, but he still doesn't tell her anything about the horcruxes, the prophecy, or the fact that he has to walk into the forest to die.

and this is exactly the same as bellatrix and voldemort.

bellatrix is clearly justified in saying that voldemort considers her his "favourite" - and he does behave towards her in ways which are meaningfully different from his treatment of his other death eaters. but their dynamic is still hugely unbalanced by the fact that voldemort is also required by the narrative to be singular - the literal embodiment of evil - and that this drives his secrecy about his true self. bellatrix is also treated by voldemort as someone whose role in his mission against harry is his to dictate, safe in the knowledge that she would never give up on him either, and who can be similarly kept in the dark about the horcruxes or the prophecy [although he clearly views this as for his, rather than her, protection].

deathly hallows, in particular, is full of explicit comparisons between the two couples. ginny trying to steal the sword leads to bellatrix giving away that there's a horcrux in her vault. ginny living while bellatrix dies [because of motherly love!] is the opener to harry living while voldemort dies [because of motherly love!]. and - of course - there's this in the forest...

Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his. 

as i've said elsewhere, i think it's entirely possible to write voldemort as quite fond of ginny on the basis of her canonical similarity to bellatrix. and so the reverse must apply - harry can be written as fond of bellatrix on the basis of her similarity to ginny.

which means i also think - if you're so inclined - that the toxic wife-swap would genuinely work.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König's Serious Phobias

I'm pretty stressed out because I'm moving, so I decided to write about König stressing out too! Yay! Anyways, let's go.

König has a complicated past. His childhood was filled with bullying, his adult life has been filled with bullets and bombs. He's been through too much for one man, honestly. The fact that he hasn't either become a hikikomori or a homicidal maniac is a miracle. I think the only reason we're safe is because he has a good family and he found good friends when he joined the military. However, he has scars. Not all of them are painted on his skin.

I've collected phobias that I think he might have into a list, however some of these fears are fears that though they impact him seriously, he can live with them and won't have a panic attack upon facing them. Fears that genuinely terrify him identified. His fears are ranked 1 through 5, with 1 being a fear that just makes him a bit wary/on edge, but he's not going to have a meltdown unless pushed or 5, a fear that can cripple him with just a brush.

Phobias are listed under the cut (also I got the fears from a list online, hence why they're mostly alphabetical)

1 Scopophobia: Fear of being watched

König grew up in a small, rural village surrounded by monsters in all shapes and sizes. Adults were cruel, children were monsters. He grew up being afraid of going out because he knew that everyone in the village saw him as the socially outcast freak. Every time he looked at people, he saw them looking at him with disdain. I think a lot of this is due to developing social anxiety, and so thus he became paranoid, but he did develop a fear of people watching him, judging him, following him with their eyes. He hates going out into the civilian world because of this.

1 Agorophobia: Fear of open spaces or crowds

König is scared of going out into crowds. Why? See phobia above. He can't stand being outside of a place he considers safe. Not in a 'I can't go on missions' way, but in a 'I don't want to go to a shopping mall' sort of way. On a mission, he's either alone or in combat. When he's in civilian life, he doesn't know how to turn the military brain off. He can't get it through his reptilian brain that he's safe, and he's okay, and no that person carrying a duffle bag is not actually carrying a hidden rifle, and no that person with a thick coat does not have a bomb under their clothes, and no that person who's walking towards him does not have a knife in their belt. He is safe. He knows this logically, but he can't stop his heart from racing. It's too loud, too hectic, too many things can go wrong too quickly.

5 Atychiphobia: Fear of failure

Do you know what failure means when you're on a mission infiltrating a cartel base? Failure means watching your teammates get blown apart by a bomb. Failure is watching your best friend fall down into a puddle of their own blood. Failure is getting a bullet between the ears. Failure is not an option in his world. When people make mistakes, don't check their surroundings properly, when someone dares to light up a cigarette at night in an open area, that's when people die. Remember this phrase when you go to smoke on a battlefield. The first light catches the sniper's attention, the second light he lines his sights, the third light he pulls the trigger. Mistakes cost lives when on the field.

1 Catagelophobia:Fear of being ridiculed

This one is pretty self explanatory. He's been bullied his whole life. He's pretty sick of it.

3 Cynophobia: Fear of dogs

König, due to working in missions that target gangs and domestic terrorist groups, has had the misfortune of seeing dogs being used against his own people. He's been attacked by a dog before himself. In combat, dogs are tools of terror. He's seen his own team use dogs, and he knows what they're capable of. You might see a fluffy German shepherd. He sees a dog that's torn peoples hands off. However! He does also like dogs when he meets them in public. He is not going to assume your dog is a killer, but if your dog growls, he won't dare touch that dog. He won't even get close. He's seen what dogs can do.

As mentioned before in this post, König's first reaction to fears he can see is to lash out. He will punch or kick without thinking. He doesn't even yell or gasp when he does it. It's just what he does. If you go to sneak up on him, you'd best be ready to dodge. He feels really bad about it, and he's been banned from 10 different haunted houses around the world.

For fears he can't physically lash out at, he will just keep an eye on things. OODA loop, you know? Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. That's going on in his head over and over again. If he's out in public, that's going on in the back of his head. If he sees a dog, he's going through multiple different scenarios and evaluating the likelihood of each possibility. Normally he's a quiet man, but he goes deathly quiet when he's afraid. If you notice him freaking out like this, it might be nice to ground him by getting his attention and then taking his hand, or distracting him from what he's thinking about. He might not say it until later, but he'll be thankful.

[bikananjarrus]

kanera week 2024 - day 2

prompt: reunion

rating: gen | word count: 3.5k | ao3 link

[note: sorry for the delay on this one! this was supposed to be much shorter than it is, but, well. you know how it is. this is a kanan lives au feat. post-battle reunion on endor (and more kanan + ghost crew feelings about the end of the war than expected, hence why this is about 2k longer than planned!). ezra is still missing and jacen has not been born yet in this au]

~

They stood together at the top of the Ghost’s lowered ramp, foreheads pressed together, Kanan’s hands resting on her waist, Hera’s curled into the lapels of his jacket. Kanan refused to think this was the last time he would hold her like this.

Base was alive and bustling around them. Officers ran back and forth across the landing bay, handing off reports, updating orders, some of them practically doing hurtles over droids that trundled through with supplies. Ground teams prepped for landing on Endor’s forest moon. Pilots rushed to their ships, readying to launch to their first jump point and wait for the go-ahead from General Solo’s ground team before following General Calrissian’s assault on the second Death Star. Hera was one of those pilots.

They had minutes left before Kanan needed to join Zeb and Kallus with their ground team, and Hera needed to ready the Ghost for take-off.

He knew that anyone could see up the Ghost’s ramp, see the two of them embraced as they were. It wasn’t exactly like his and Hera’s relationship was a secret. But he knew how much Hera valued keeping things professional in public. As a general, she had an image to maintain. He respected that. And at times, it made it all the more fun when they got a chance to sneak off for a few precious moments of alone time.

But right now, he didn’t care if anyone saw them. Hera must not have minded either, because she didn’t seem too keen on letting him go.

Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the front of his jacket. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” While he couldn’t see her face, he thought her chin might be trembling, because her next words came out in a wobbly whisper. “Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Kanan pressed a kiss right between her creased brows. “I promise, love.” Another kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’ll have Zeb and Rex watching my back. Kallus, too, I suppose.” That made her chuckle and he smiled in turn. “I’m more worried about you.”

A firefight on the ground was one thing. Dangerous, of course. At times unpredictable, hard to navigate a battlefield, especially in unfamiliar territory. But, even with the odds stacked against them, a ground fight allowed more opportunities to turn those odds in their favor.

A dogfight in the blackness of space was another thing entirely. The whole battle map was laid out before you, with nothing to stand between you and the laser-fire of enemy ships except skill and the cold vacuum of the cosmos.

Hera was the greatest pilot he’d ever seen. But all it took was one wrong move and she would be nothing but stardust.

“You’ve got Zeb and Rex. I’ve got Sabine and Chopper.”

“We should’ve just offered to smuggle Chopper onboard the Death Star. He’d have that thing imploding in no time.”

Hera laughed softly again, sweeping one hand up to cup his jaw. Her thumb brushed over the apple of his cheek, then a little higher to the edge of the scar that ran beneath his eyes. She kissed him with sound reassurance. “I’ll be careful,” she vowed against his lips. “Promise.”

She kissed him once more, and then started to pull back. Kanan didn’t want her to—but if they didn’t separate now, he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to walk away from her.

Kanan’s hands were still loosely gripping Hera’s when he heard the familiar rumble of Chopper’s wheels against the ramp, just a moment before Sabine announced her presence with a boisterous, “Who’s ready to blow up another Death Star?”

He chuckled, at last letting go of Hera to stretch his arms out for Sabine instead. She stepped fully into his hug. He ruffled the back of her freshly cut mullet (he’d sat in the ‘fresher with her while she’d cut her hair the other night, describing the process and the bright orange to buttery yellow gradient she’d dyed it with) and she swatted at his hand playfully, twirling out of his grip.

“You know, for some of us, this is a first time experience,” he pointed out, barely containing a grin. “Some of us were in a coma when the first Death Star blew up.”

He could practically feel Sabine and Hera rolling their eyes simultaneously.

Sabine gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Please—tell us again how you very heroically almost got blown up.”

Kanan laughed, then reached through the air until he found Hera’s hand again. He joked about his near-death—very, very near-death—experience on Lothal years ago now; they were in a place now that they could all make fun about it. But he gave her fingers a light squeeze, silently conveying that, despite his joking, he knew how serious it had been. How close she’d come to losing him. She wouldn’t lose him this time, either.

She squeezed his hand back, thumb pressing into the back of his fingerless gloves and the burn scars underneath. “It’s time to go.”

His chest tightened at the words. “Yeah.”

Still, he didn’t let go. He could feel her gaze on him, drinking him in.

For the millionth time since Malachor, Kanan wished he could see her—really see her. He wanted to rememorize the exact shade of green of her skin, her eyes. He wanted to see the half-smile she got when she was planning something brilliant or devious or both. He wanted to see the way her cheeks flushed when he kissed her, wanted to see the exact way her mouth curved around the syllables of his name.

Since that wasn’t possible, he instead sank into the Force. It danced around her in a steady, but brilliant flow, and he grounded himself in that feeling, breathing easier with each of her exhales.

Kanan kissed her one more time. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she whispered back.

They stood close for a few precious seconds more. Then in one swift movement, he pulled away, striding down the ramp to put distance between them.

“Be careful,” she called after him.

With a two-finger salute and a cheeky grin, he replied, “Aye aye, General. See you on the other side.”

::

The next thirty-six hours passed in waves—time speeding by in the blink of an eye one hour and dragging onto eternity the next. The chaos and necessity of battle made it relatively easy to focus on the mission at hand. But that didn’t stop Kanan from casting his mind out into the Force whenever he got the chance, searching for Hera.

Over and over, he sensed that she was okay. He was sure, down to his bones, that he would know if something was wrong. Her presence in the Force was as familiar as his own; he would feel it if something happened.

But that didn’t stop worry from gripping him like a cold hand latched around his spine.

Especially when the battle ended. And it did end.

Blaster fire stopped whizzing past his ears and cheers—from rebel and Ewok alike—erupted around the battlefield. He could feel others jostling around him, sense their upward gazes, hear the affirmation from all around him, “Look! The Death Star! They did it!”

Kanan couldn’t see it, of course—but he’d already known. He’d felt it when it happened, the Death Star’s destruction. Countless lives snuffed out at once; Like the exhale of a giant beast. The sensation of a distant space explosion beneath his feet; but maybe that was actually the tremor of Endor’s moon, shaking with the force of the blast.

More than that—through the Force—light.

Kanan had never felt the Force like this. He didn’t realize how…muffled it had been up until now. Akin to suddenly having a great, downy blanket torn off in one’s sleep. The contrast was sharp, bright. But refreshing.

The Force was what it was. It wasn’t light or dark on its own; it just was. And while no one being could truly have so much power as to control the entirety of it, Emperor Palpatine must have been powerful indeed to cast so much darkness over the Force for all these years.

Kanan staggered under the lightness he felt. He sucked in a deep breath, lungs expanding all the way. The sensation stretched his face in a wide smile, tears of pure, unadulterated joy pricking at his eyes.

“We’re free,” he whispered.

He swore he felt the brush of a ghostly hand on his shoulder.

Master, he thought, closing his eyes. We’re free. For a moment, the smell of smoke dissipated from the air, replaced only with the greenery around him and the spiced floral scent that had floated around Master Billaba in days long passed.

Her presence drifted away on the breeze and Kanan’s heart lifted with it.

With one thing left to do, Kanan reached for his comm on his belt, toggling it to their crew’s private channel. “Spectre One to Ghost. Come in, Spectre Two.”

Silence followed for a few impossibly long seconds. His throat tightened, and he tried to swallow down the fear.

Maybe the Death Star’s explosion had overridden any other feeling in the Force. Maybe she had been caught in the blast and he didn’t even know—

A crackle of static. Followed by her smiling voice, “Ghost to Spectre One. We read you loud and clear.”

He sighed in happy relief. “Copy that, Ghost. You all good up there?”

This time it was Sabine’s voice over the comms, sounding more victorious than she had in a long time. At least since before the Empire destroyed Mandalor, Sabine having just barely gotten her family out in time. “Better than good. You?”

Kanan twisted in place, reaching out with the Force. He had gotten separated from Zeb, Kallus, and Rex in the fight. “I’m fine. The others—”

“We’re all safe,” Zeb’s voice sounded over the channel. “I’ve got Kal and Rex here with me.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ll be joining you planetside shortly,” Hera said. And then, even though they were still on comms with everyone else, she added just for him, “See you soon, love.”

While he waited for the Rebel fleet to start landing on the moon, Kanan busied himself helping with triage. Andor and Erso had been put in charge of setting up a temporary med station while they waited for their primary medical frigate to arrive in friendly space. He helped with getting the wounded to the tented off area.

After helping the team who was clearing major debris out of the way, Zeb found him, Kallus and Rex trailing behind. Kallus gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, but he was hauled into a hearty hug by Rex a second later.

“We did it, Commander,” Rex said, his gruff voice even rougher than usual, tinged with emotion as it was.

“We did it,” Kanan echoed.

Rifling in his pack as he pulled back, Rex grabbed Kanan’s hand and pressed something into it. “Here. Just in case you’re getting tired. I see yours fell off your belt.”

Kanan recognized the weight and feel of his extra probing cane immediately.

(Sabine had painted it, of course, telling him, “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t look nice.” Still, she’d taken care to layer the paint over and over in a design comprised of swirls and whorls, the paint just raised enough that he could make it out with the touch of his fingertips).

“Thanks,” he said with a grateful smile. He was a bit worn out, having relied on the Force to see the entirety of the battle. And the cane he kept attached to his belt had gotten knocked off at some point during the day, lost amongst the foliage of Endor.

For the moment, though, he hooked this one onto his belt too. He had one more person to greet.

Kanan turned to where he could sense Zeb, and no sooner was he facing Zeb’s direction before the lasat was barreling into him, enveloping him in a huge hug.

Zeb was one of the few people in the galaxy who understood what Kanan was feeling in a way that many others didn’t—the Empire that had almost entirely destroyed both their peoples’ in its rise to power. Though the fight against the Empire had been happening for over two decades, to have it finally snuffed out with one last battle…it was hard to put the impossibility of that into words. So Kanan knew he wasn’t imagining the way Zeb was quietly shaking, or the soft sniffles that punctuated the air near his ear.

“Me too, big guy, me too,” Kanan said, voice muffled by Zeb’s shoulder. There would be more time later for them to sit down and properly honor both the Jedi and Lasan. For now, he just squeezed one of his oldest friends back tightly.

It was Zeb who pulled back with a quiet, “Kanan.” Then Zeb was putting his hands on his shoulders, turning Kanan away from him—towards something else. “The Ghost is coming down.”

With Zeb’s hand on his back guiding him, they headed for the wider part of the clearing that Zeb had helped clear out for the ships coming planetside. As they got closer, close enough that he could pick the familiar rumble of the Ghost’s engines out from the rest, Kanan picked up his pace, leaving Zeb and the others behind.

New voices and shouts of excitement and victory rose up as others finished their landing cycles, and pilots descended from their ships, running to reunite with their own friends.

Kanan stopped where he was sure he wouldn’t be in danger of getting squashed by the landing ship, and waited, heart thrumming in his chest.

He heard the Ghost land, felt the shudder under his feet as the freighter touched down, followed by the low whine of the engine’s powering down. The scent of fresh carbon scoring was faint in the air. There was a gentle whir as the ramp lowered.

From the second he sensed Hera at the top of the ramp—right where they’d stood together early yesterday—Kanan was moving. Her feet touched solid ground and he was instantly there to scoop her into his arms.

She clung to him, burying her face into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Overjoyed, her laugh echoed around him as he spun her.

They were here—they were alive.

Somewhere behind him he heard Chopper warbling and Sabine letting out a surprised yelp as Zeb pulled her into her own bone-crushing embrace.

But everyone else felt far away compared to the woman in his arms, radiating joy and laughter and utter relief.

Kanan set her down but kept her close. Close enough to kiss her soundly, cupping her face between his hands. Her cheeks were wet with tears, lips salty with them.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, touching his forehead to hers the way he had yesterday. “I’m here. We’re here, we’re safe. It’s over, Hera. It’s over.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “We did it, love.”

“We did it,” she sniffled. She laughed again, the sound watery with her tears. One of her gloved hands was tangled in his half-down hair, the other caressing his jaw.

She kissed him again, before wrapping him up in another hug. Kanan closed his eyes and just held her, his heart content.

::

Celebrations took place later that night, and Kanan barely left Hera’s side. He spent most of the night with his cane in one hand, and holding Hera’s hand with the other. He gave and received more hugs than he ever had in his life; they cheered and danced and sang; he smiled and laughed until his cheeks hurt and his ribs were sore. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt this much joy at once.

At one point, a bunch of them gathered around a radio one of the pilots had carried into the Ewok village. They listened as the news carried across every available channel in the galaxy: the Emperor was dead and the Empire along with him. The galaxy was free.

After hours of music and fireworks and celebration, Hera tugged him away from it all, off to a distant, quiet platform of the village. Some of the rebels were slumbering in the village that night. They had already decided they would make their way back to the Ghost eventually to sleep in their own bed.

Hera sat down against the tree trunk that jutted through the center of the circular platform. She took his cane, and he heard her folding it up as he settled down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against him immediately, taking his free hand between her own.

Kanan took a deep breath. As much as he relished the celebrations, the quiet was a relief. He let himself drift for a moment—listening to the rustle of leaves all round them, soaking in the cool night breeze, the scent of distant fires tickling his nose.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” Hera murmured.

Kanan hummed in agreement, rubbing his thumb back and forth against her index finger.

Mirthfully, she scoffed. “I have no idea what I’m going to do tomorrow.”

They both knew there would be plenty to do—too much, even. The Empire was finished, but the work wasn’t. But he knew what she meant; it was the principle of the thing. After spending the last twenty-three years under the thumb of Imperial rule, the future was frighteningly full of possibilities.

“Sleep in for once?” he suggested. He was an early riser naturally; he liked doing his meditation in the morning. Hera’s early schedule was all thanks to her alarms and the strict schedule of a rebellion leader.

“Mm, sleeping in would be nice. Maybe breakfast in bed afterwards. When’s the last time we did that?”

“Too long ago to remember.” He nudged his foot against her own playfully. “I could be persuaded to do breakfast in bed. Depending, of course—” he stroked his fingers down the one lek curled pliantly over her shoulder, delighting as she shivered against him, “—on what’s on the menu.”

“Oh, I don’t know, dear, you tell me.” He could hear the smile in her voice as she twisted to nip at his earlobe lightly.

He chuckled, turning his head to capture her lips with his own. They kissed until the tips of his ears warmed and they were both a little breathless.

With a last peck to her temple, he leaned his head back against the tree trunk, willing his heated blood to cool and Hera tucked deeper into his side.

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Another bout of fireworks started lighting up the sky again, and Kanan had to imagine the bright colors as their booms filled the night.

The thought popped into his head unbidden, I wonder how they’re celebrating on Lothal right now. It was like being doused with cold water.

It’s not like this was the first time he’d thought of Ezra, even today. His thoughts drifted constantly to his padawan—really, former padawan; Ezra had more than done enough to prove himself worthy of the title of Jedi Knight.

But the ache of missing Ezra and the sudden longing to be on Lothal—the closest planet they could call home—dug sharply into his chest.

“Kanan?” Hera asked. He didn’t realize how tense he’d suddenly gotten until she was smoothing a hand over his chest. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m okay. It’s—tonight’s been perfect.” He exhaled through his nose. “Except…”

“Ezra,” she finished for him quietly. Quickly; like she’d been thinking about the missing member of their family, too.

“Yeah. I just…I wonder if he could sense it, where he is, the Emperor dying or the Death Star. Or if he’s just too far away from us that he doesn’t know.”

Hera squeezed his hand and pressed a soothing kiss to his cheek. “He knows we’re out here. That’s all that matters.” He nodded, but couldn’t bring himself to speak. She pressed on, “We’ll find him, we will. I really believe that.”

“I know we will,” he responded, the words heavy on his tongue.

All their leads on Ezra’s whereabouts had turned into dead-ends over the last several years of the war. But he believed Hera, he believed in her hope. And he believed in the Force, trusting that he would’ve known if something truly terrible had happened to Ezra, no matter how far away he was.

Then Hera said, “We can pick up where we left off with the search right away tomorrow.”

And at the promise of having a tomorrow, Kanan could only pull her impossibly closer.

Safe among their friends and the trees of Endor’s moon, they welcomed the first dawn of a free galaxy, together.

[end]

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

HotD Take: the Tragedy of Queen Aemma

There's something I've just realized about HotD involving the character of Aemma Arryn.

I've noticed that pretty much the whole of episode 1, when we do see Aemma...actually right at the beginning of the episode as a matter of fact, the beginning of the show, she is seen as being pregnant, presumably with Rhaenyra, as this was around the time Viserys officially named successor to the Old King Jaehaerys.

This made me realize that pretty much the WHOLE of this episode, the whole of seeing Aemma's screentime, we basically always see her in a pregnant state.

I might be reading a little too much into this observation, but I wonder if this is to showcase how Queen Aemma's basic role in all of this was to produce an heir...a MALE heir at that.

The woman has only had one daughter so far, any other children she has had between Rhaenyra and the last child she had before dying, they were either stillborn or died in the cradle before they could even been given proper names.

Aemma herself did say this in the show:

"We have royal wombs you and I. The childbed is our battlefield...we must learn to face it with a stiff lip."

Basically Aemma's life as queen has revolved around getting pregnant with the hopes of producing a suitable heir for the realm after Viserys passes, but she was never able to do that...well she actually did but that realization came too late.

It was not until AFTER Viserys made the call to have Aemma subjected to a brutal involuntary C-section did he realize that the heir the realm needed had been there all along, which was Rhaenyra.

But again, this was something he didn't realize until AFTER Aemma died, AFTER he put her through that torture procedure and AFTER the son Aemma had finally bore died in the cradle a few hours after that event.

While I have no doubt that Viserys did love Aemma, it's kinda hard to not see that Aemma, even though she was queen, was basically treated as a broodmare, made to produce heirs until she either succeeded in producing a healthy son...or until it killed her,

and that was something Rhaenyra had noticed at a young age, hence the reason why the girl was so hesitant about getting married, why she rebelled against her father when he 'nudged' her to find a husband.

The fact that we only see Aemma being pregnant during her whole time on the show, I feel, conveys the nature of her role as a queen and highborn lady in the patriarchal society that is Westeros, which was essentially that of a broodmare.

Realizing that just now makes her death all the more depressing.

Aemma Arryn, it seems, had made her peace playing that role, she learned to embrace it...but that peace she made end up doing little to save her in the end, it did very little to save her from the horrible death she endured to bring her son into the world- a son who, again, only lived a few hours after being born.

I also do see the irony in that Aemma was only able to bare a daughter and could never produce any sons, while Rhaenyra was able to bare five healthy sons, but ended up losing a daughter in the womb.

I also do see the irony in that Viserys, even though he realized that Rhaenyra was the heir in his dreams, he ended up caving to pressure from the Small Council to take a wife who did manage to give him sons- emphasis on sons PLURAL.

Sons that he ended up neglecting in favor of his "only" daughter from his late wife that he subjected to a brutal and fatal and INVOLUNTARY C-section, but I digress.

That's all I gots to say on this matter.

Have a nice day :)

[copaline]

WOO! WIP WEDNESDAY!

ISTG this has been a long and exhausting week. BUT I MADE IT! I hope to get a lot more writing done this weekend, fingers crossed!

@man--eater (I know I'm hogging the spoons but GIMME YOUR WORDS!)

@sunsetofdoom (You're just out here being a menace and you know it)

@i-prefer-base-twelve (Ma'am are you alive? The council is worried about you.)

@punedrr (Ok midterms should be over. TELL ME YOU GOT SOMETHING!)

@ancharan (After that stream? I want, nay, demand all the doodles and or writings!)

And as always, if you see this and want to join in, please do! Consider yourself tagged by me! The banner is free to use!

Back on the Horror Vacui bandwagon! Making progress on the upcoming chapter 10:

Leaf was well acquainted with pain. Psychological, emotional, physical… her experiences ran the gamut but she had never considered herself much of a masochist. The complex variety of pain’s flavors were lost on her. Truth be told there was surprising little that could genuinely hurt her anymore, so the pain was just another futile exercise in unpleasantness. So why was it she once again found herself unconscious and gritting her teeth to bear it? As though to answer, Ford's smiling face flickered in her mind. That's right.  This all happened because she was an idiot. Leaf didn’t fight the pull and effortlessly fell away into the abyss. If she went deep enough away, she could muffle the pain behind ice cold nothingness. Far away where everything felt numb, there she could think properly and take stock of the damage. It certainly looked bad. Bill had added his own twist on the impact, but most of the destruction was simply the universe taking its due. Meddling always came at a price, the only thing Bill had done was give the thing shotgun physics.  That little cheat with the Neverwere and Dr. Dipper had landed her three broken ribs. Then there was the dimensional skip, more temporal distortions, breach of contract, obstruction of death, soul prisage, liminal bleeding, spatial breakage, misappropriation of potential, even more temporal distortions…  The Axolotl might grin and look the other way, but Time Baby was surely throwing a tantrum over it. Hence the pain. Idly she wondered if this time the damage would be extensive enough to kill her. If anything could manage to take her out, it was probably this. However, a cursory glance at her injuries showed that none of them were life threatening. Agonizing and inconvenient? Yes. Deadly? Not even close. How disappointing. Leaf sighed only half-joking. There was a comfort in the familiar notion that everything and everyone eventually came to an end. It would be rather nice to have death find her in the comfort of her bed instead of in a battlefield. A peaceful end… that's all anyone could ever hope for, wasn't it? She drifted in the darkness longing for dreams to materialize and fill the nothingness. They would never come. Yet another thing she’d lost in the exchange between mortality and the eternal. ‘Mostly human’ was not human enough to dream.  Dealers had little use for dreams. Those little bursts of inspiration were reserved for more malleable creatures that could continue to change and grow throughout their lifetime. Leaf was already everything she would ever be.  Things had been different when Bill was around. Every night, he had a habit of singing lullabies and unwinding the coils of existence. His gift was to allow for even more possibilities than what reality granted. She had dreamt back when Bill was still around. Back when everyone was still around…

[nu-carniviva]

I really wanted a more lighthearted return to this blog but... I really need to talk about this new event

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE CURRENT EVENT AND TRIGGER WARNING FOR AB//SE AND R//PE

LONG POST AHEAD

Wow. I just. Wow. They really went all out with serious subject matter for this event. Um, I guess I'll talk about this is order of the characters' memories that were presented

Edit: made some minor mistakes but I'll fix that later

Blade: Blade was a lot from the get-go. I never really enjoy seeing him as his assassin bot self but this was a whole new level of depressing. Blade's memories make it clear that Saia is not a pleasant place. The technology is advanced, but the people are primitive. I believe Blade's story so far isn't exactly about when he was made, but when he became alive.

Blade was designed to behave more human-like in order to infiltrate Klein and assassinate Huey so the continent would crumble. While he was originally just supposed to pass as human enough to mask himself as a trustworthy being, the scientists failed to remember just how complicated human emotions are, and that Blade would be in a continent surrounded by humans away from other automatons/e-droids.

To be a human is to be complex. We are not simple minded creatures with strictly black-and-white thinking. Blade has learned this right away now that observing and mimicking humans is in his programming. His biggest sign of showing his evolution into becoming more human is when he saves the other automaton from dying out on the battlefield. He's seen other humans care for each other and nurse each other back to health when wounded, so he assumed the same would happen for his own kind. Yet, when he brought the automaton to the scientists, they killed him right in front of Blade with no hesitation or remorse. Blade seems to get a moment of realization in that moment. The realization that his kind were made solely to serve and please humans. They truly do not care for him or the other automatons. The humans, or the Saians in particular, see them as disposable things rather than sentient beings.

While in Klein, it's noted that Huey played a massive role in changing Blade to who he is now, but I'm sure he was already starting to rebel against his programming because he had more opportunity to experience a kind version of humanity. The humans in Klein, overall, treat each other kindly and respectfully. Blade has never seen such treatment before, and since that behavior is a part of human nature, he has to observe and mimic it as part of his programming.

Rei: Rei... Experienced a lot. From the very start, Rei shows that he has no issue seducing men to gather information from them. His life is dedicated to research, and he's willing to do anything to gather as much information as he can.

Yet, he clearly wasn't the same type of dedicated researcher he is now. That is shown by the end when he enters his home. His home is a mess, and Rei is surprised to see it in that state, meaning he wasn't always messy. He used to be organized and lived in more of a home than a laboratory that he happens to sleep in. Research was his motivation in life, but it wasn't his life.

While nothing is explicitly stated, it's very very clear that Rei was raped by the man he was talking to at the bar and broke into his house. As he lies there, powerless and corrupted, he snaps. In order to cope, his mind blanks about the events that just happened, and he forces himself to think about his research, hence why he mentions that Saians really do have essence.

Since then, Rei has spiraled into his research. His research became his life. It became his only reason to live. His only reason to keep going. He views life as an experiment to research on. He views his body as destroyed, and now its only purpose is to be a test subject in his research. His house is a mess now too. Papers and products for experiments are scattered throughout the place, and he's protective over each of them. In Rei's mind, his research is all he has control over. It's the only part of him he can protect and see value in. He has no self worth anymore, and I hope we can see that self worth come back as the game progresses.

Kuya: First of all, it's insane how Rei's part ended by dropping a bombshell and then Kuya's immediately opens with dropping a bombshell. This is the absolute closest we have ever seen to Huey's identity. He's masked so we can't see his face, but it appears that his body is very similar to Eiden's. So that alone makes sense why the remaining OG clan members have said he looks like Huey as well as having the same essence.

It's clear from the start that Kuya was Huey's right hand man. He seems to have gone on the most adventures with Huey, and it's most likely from the power that he holds. Under Huey's influence, Kuya was a lot more cynical and apathetic, so it's likely that he viewed Kuya as someone to help him get his way. Kuya also shows to have had a deep loyalty to Huey — a type of loyalty he hasn't shown anyone else. Whatever Huey wanted, Kuya made sure it happened.

The scene at the bar was insane too, and it further proves my claims of Kuya being more apathetic and cruel when Huey was around. While life has always seemed to be a game to him, he played the game with little regard to other lives. The men in the bar were ogling him, and while that certainly is gross and Kuya had every right to be disgusted, he punished them in such an extreme way that we haven't seen him do before. The current Kuya prefers to torment others with mind games and illusions, while this past Kuya preferred to be more physical and violent.

It's also important to note how much Kuya has mellowed out since meeting Eiden. Don't get me wrong, Kuya is still a total sadist, but he has shown to be mindful of the lives of others. He doesn't kill or maim on a whim. Instead, like stated earlier, he's developed a preference for mind games and teasing. His mind games now serve as lessons to those around him too. He pushes others to their limits, but he does it so they can come back stronger. Ever since meeting Eiden, he's found a family. He's found people worth keeping around. It's similar to Blade, in a sense. After being around people who treat him with kindness and respect, he started to change.

This event has been a roller coaster so far and it literally just started. The devs seem to be handling these heavy topics with care as of now and I hope it remains that way.

I think overall the theme of this event is a commentary on humanity, especially in our current day. Saia is technologically advanced, yet the people are heartless and have lost compassion for one another. They're so focused on advancing their technology and destroying people or places lesser than them that they've forgotten their part of human nature to love. If you were to look at any news source right now, you would see very similar themes. Technology is constantly advancing and pushing forward, yet people are going backwards and losing their kindness.

Then again, I suppose humans have always been cruel. History is stained with the blood of others both human and animal. Humans have shown time and time again that they can be just as heartless and violent as more simple minded animals, so it's possible this event is a commentary on humanity as a whole rather than just current humanity.

It's crazy, really, how this game started as something lighthearted and fun and is now full of angst and disturbing topics. That being said, there's still plenty of wholesome and sweet moments. I suppose that's just like real life, huh?

[dollfaced-erin]

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

PART 6

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5

taglist :

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu

P/s : to those who req to be on the taglist but didn't get their notifications, please check your privacy settings !! i cant seem to find youu :((

A/n :

there was a little more i wanted to put into this chapter for a sweet ending, but was a little too long. So i'll make the next chapter extra romantic hehe !! And i should be preparing a special chapter soon for all the support ! So, shall i write a modern AU themed with this fanfic ??

"So, was that the girl of your dreams ? Looks pretty young to me." a magenta haired woman laughed as her colleague returned to reunite with her at their rendezvous.

"Is she another one of those...Vidyadharas ? The long-lived Xianzhou natives ? My, its rare to see them with horns." Kafka said, leaning against an empty container.

"She's special." her companion answered shortly, looking down at his cracked sword in hand. A sword that was once wield by a master of ice arts, speed and strength so accurate, said friend could cut through time itself.

"Yeah, I bet she means a lot to you. You keep on dreaming about her. Dan Jia, was it ?" Kafka asked, and Blade shook his head.

"No. She goes by the name (Y/n) now." Blade answered simply yet once again.

(Y/n)...he didn't remember much of who that woman was in the past. But he could recall some significant details that calmed his nightmares as he slumbered.

Every time he had nightmares, nights Kafka was too far away to quell, he would recall a certain woman in his dreams. How she would dance her heart away. How her steps were as light as a feather.

She would dance, her clothes rippling along as she danced beneath the moonlight elegantly, a simple glass fan in her hands that shone beneath the gaze of the moon. She would sing and hum, her sweet and melodious voice forever guiding him back to light when days were dark.

He wondered what happened to all the fans he had created for her...? The last one he remembered was the crystal fan in her hands which she had kept on her person the most.

He remembered forging and learning glass art and crystals just to see those (e/c) eyes of hers light up in delight. The days and nights he sacrificed and burned his hands. The hours that passed as he learned day by day how to shape it nicely, how to add details, how to blow glass.

(Y/n) had always been fond of the moon. She loved glassy and clear items, hence why he had created so many small accessories for her in hopes of them being insignificant enough to the eye to escape her brother's protective gaze.

All to see those little accessories on his beloved.

The change of name...from Dan Jia to (Y/n) wasn't much of a shock to him. Nor did he try to deny that it was her name. No, it wasn't because she was the same person.

That woman named Dan Jia...had died. Long...long ago. But was so vivid in his memories.

On the battlefield years ago. Her limp and bloodied body strewn across the ground, her heart missing from her chest.

For some reason, that name (Y/n), with that same face, didn't bother him as much as another person's change in identity did. He wondered why.

He snapped out of it and looked at his colleague. "Let's go, Kafka."

"After you, Bladie. Don't worry, you'll see her again. It's all part of the script."

"I'd rather her not witness the monster I've become."

"Hm...just in case if you want to go see her again, you can go tomorrow night, just to check if she's there." Kafka shrugged, walking off with her colleague trailing behind her.

And the heart in his chest...felt like it was burning alive. It felt as if...dragon claws were being dug into it, in a comforting way. As if to show reassurance. As if...it had met its true owner.

After Blade had left, (Y/n) fell to the ground, wiping away her tears. Her heart hurt. No, her chest felt empty. As if it were missing something...

She didn't remember anything and she felt so lost...so helpless.

But that man...he was warm. He was kind. Contrasting the fact that he was a wanted criminal, contrasting the fact that he had fled from Jing Yuan's grasp, accidental or not.

But those unfamiliar red eyes of his...brought her some memories. brought her some sense of familiarity. Though she didn't recognize him, or he was someone from her distant memory or past self, he was indeed someone dear to her.

But as she was about to continue wallowing in her thoughts and losing herself in her empty memories, the device she had received earlier buzzed in her pocket.

She took out the device, as it shone brightly, blinding her for a moment. She let out a small string of curses, like, why the hell was this...THING (??) so damn bright ?!

But it was a message from Jing Yuan. So she tapped on the white banner, as it automatically led her to the chatting app Jingyan had showed her to use earlier.

"Princess, I hope you're safe. Do you want to come back now ? It's getting late." the message read.

(Y/n) felt her cheeks heating up a little. This flirty General of the Xianzhou Luofu really likes to play his cards and call her princess, huh...?

"I am in no way a princess. But yes, I would like to return now." (Y/n) quickly tapped, finding herself adapting to the new knowledge pretty quickly.

"You are always a princess, (Y/n). Pretty like one too. just take it as a compliment, alright ? This General doesn't hand out compliments as much as you might like." she received back.

She groaned a little in embarrassment. And shook her head with a little smile playing by her lips. She got up from the ground and began to exit the dark alley, where she had an encounter with the Xianzhou's (or rather the IPC) most wanted criminal.

"Yanqing told me he had you sent to the Exalting Sanctum for some fresh air and a change of scenery. From there, you can head north onto a bridge. Then, walk left until you see a Starskiff jetty on your right. You can request a ride to the Seat of Divine Foresight. I shall be waiting for you here." Jing Yuan instructed and (Y/n) nodded, even though he wasn't there to witness it.

"If you're too late, I might come pick you up myself~" he replied once more, and (Y/n) groaned again, turning off the device.

And so she walked off, away from the alley she was in. She didn't mind the stares anymore. She was her own person. She didn't need to hide, since her horns were part of her. And they were of great significance once in the past.

(Y/n) was close to the stairs that would lead her to the bridge Jing Yuan mentioned.

Until someone stopped her.

(Y/n) was stopped with a violent thud of something colliding with the ground behind her. She turned around to see a figure in heavy uniform behind her. A Cloud Knight, she recalled, as Jing Yuan once told her. She couldn't see his facial expression for it was blocked with the metal mask that obscured their face.

"Excuse me, miss. This may sound rude, but are those horns on your head real ?" the knight asked her, skeptically eyeing her from head to toe (or so she thought).

"Yes, the horns on my head are very much real. I suggest to you to not touch them, for they are very sensitive. Like when you bite into ice cream ? Yeah, it feels like that." (Y/n) said, raising a hand subconsciously to protect the horns on her head.

She was feeling very...self-conscious about them now, but she knew the reason behind the horns on her head. The others began to look at the commotion, but rather than looking sorry for her or helping out, they looked at the knight fearfully.

"Miss, you must come with me. I must confirm your identity. No one but the High Elders are supposed to have horns on their head, unless...but you...don't look like..." the knight trailed off, looking at the woman before him.

"You must come with me, quickly." he said, and took (Y/n)'s arm forcefully to a more secluded area.

"Wh-what...? Where are you taking me ?!" (Y/n) exclaimed, snapping her arm away from the knight, growling in instinct.

"No. You must come with me."

"Hands off of the Lady." A suave voice called out from the side.

"General !" the knight saluted, standing up straight as he released the woman from his grasp.

Jing Yuan looked quite angry, pushing (Y/n) slightly behind him, giving her an apologetic look for a moment. "Sorry I'm late, princess. Are you hurt ? My apologies. He's just confused just as many of the others are."

"I thought I had dispatched the news to the Cloud Knights earlier this morning to tell the other Luofu residents. I suppose some of you weren't notified through the headlines. That was...to not confront the horned woman."

"General ! She's...she has horns on her head. This cannot be but an imposter !" the knight tried to clarify, to which Jing Yuan stiffened a little at the word 'imposter'. He glared at the knight before him.

"Imposter...do you know what accusations you are making without base ? This lady before me...is the reincarnation of the Star-Crossed Dragon's Cradle." Jing Yuan revealed, shocking everyone, including (Y/n) herself.

Star-Crossed Dragon's Cradle...? Dan Jia was that...? Just what the hell happened in her past...life or incarnation or timeline or whatever ?

"Lady (Y/n)...is the past High Elder, Imbibator Lunae's sister. The Fallen One during the Sedition of Imbibator Lunae." Jing Yuan said before he looked at (Y/n).

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, (Y/n). When you're so unprepared. I was sure to make sure most of the residents of the Luofu to remain silent if you passed. I suppose the news slipped minds of some." Jing Yuan said, giving her an apologetic look.

After the commotion was neutralized, Jing Yuan brought her to his estate. Being the ever-gentleman he was, he had provided for her a room in advance. But (Y/n) refused to rest just yet, wanting to hear answers from Jing Yuan himself. And so...

So there they were, sitting down in one of his leisure rooms, where a board of starchess was placed between them. He looked heavy to tell her what exactly transpired, but he knew she had a right to the truth.

He took in a deep breath.

"Princess...before I tell you anything, just know that I did everything for your safety. And most things that transpired in the past, shall not affect you now." he said, and (Y/n) nodded.

"I had shared the information of your awakening to the Cloud Knights to tell to the general public. You were free to roam the Luofu as you desired without interrogation, as you were under my supervision." Jing Yuan said with a heavy sigh, and a smile as he chuckled. he bowed his head, his bangs concealing his eyes further before he rose again.

"Now, like I said, you and the previous High Elder are siblings. Both of you were candidates to inherit the Dragon Heart due to numerous factors, but only one shall be chosen as the High Elder and inherit the said heart." Jing Yuan began, looking straight into (Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes that looked at him curiously.

"But surprisingly, both of you succeeded the Transmutation Arcanum, after passing the dragon transmutation. And between the two of you, Dan Feng was chosen to lead the army due to his immense power and potential, and you were chosen to stay in the back lines due to your healing abilities."

"You, (Y/n), rebirthed from Dan Jia, possessed that heart, and Dan Feng became the High Elder for he was more dominant on field, serving as a more...prominent leader as some would call it. But due to his destructive nature on the battlefield, the heart was transferred to you, where you would be Dan Feng's source of power. And it would always be safe in the back lines."

"So this...Dragon Heart..." (Y/n) started.

"It is a source of power. So as long as it lives, Dan Feng's power remains undisrupted. You are the vessel, and Dan Feng is the output." Jing Yuan tried to explain.

"You used to be the holder of the Heart. Hence the title, the Dragon's Cradle. You held the heart close in your chest, protecting it from everyone and everything. That is...until it was ripped from you."

Her blurry memories from before she awoke began to flash in her mind. The bone marrow. The pain. The guilt. The screams. The ripping...

The pain wasn't only from her back. It was also from her heart.

The heart that was ripped away from her...

But why...?

Her thoughts began to scramble in her mind, not being able to comprehend anything else Jing Yuan was saying. Her vision began to blur as she was beginning to feel overwhelmed.

But she was pulled back to reality was the warm and large hand that was placed on her head. Worried golden eyes melted her heart as they gazed with concern and oozed with warmth.

"That should be enough for today. I apologize, my princess. I suppose that this information may have overwhelmed you." Jing Yuan said, a tender smile on his lips as he caressed her silky strands of (h/c) hair.

"It's late. You should rest up. Come, I shall lead you there..." Jing Yuan said, standing up and offered a hand to her.

(Y/n) took his hand as he led her through the spacious walls of his mansion on the Luofu. Being a general for as long as him and as significant, his riches knew no bounds. But he had nothing to spend it all on...

The last time he made a big spending, was to build the resting house for his dear friend, who lay resting, unknowing when she was to wake up. But now that she was awake, perhaps he wouldn't be as lonely as he used to.

The two walked in silence, Jing Yuan pondering in his own sorrows, and (Y/n) trying to remember the details and admired the traditional interior of Jing Yuan's manor. Then, Jing Yuan stopped and looked at (Y/n). "This is your room. Use it for as long as you'd like."

"In the closet is a few clothes if you'd like to wear them. I've had the servants prepare everything for you. Don't worry, I didn't peek." Jing Yuan said warmly, caressing her hair.

"My room is just next door if you need me. If you think you cant reach me, you can call me. I'll be awake if you need anything, okay ?" Jing Yuan asked and (Y/n) nodded her head.

She was much too baffled by today's revelation, that she had some trouble processing most of what was currently taking place. But Jing Yuan was kind to her, as he had always been since the moment she opened her eyes.

"Okay...thank you...Jing Yuan..." (Y/n) said, looking at him with her glassy (e/c) eyes. Jing Yuan smiled and took her hand, kissing it softly before letting go of her hand for the night.

The general smiled as he watched (Y/n)'s face lit up with a tender and shy blush on her cheeks, finding it amusing and strangely addicting. He lifted his finger to her cheek, lowering his voice to a soft whisper.

"Good night, (Y/n)..." Jing Yuan whispered before he left her, walking towards his own room.

Internally, he was screaming and congratulating himself, tempted to give himself a pat on the back. But that was a party meant for himself in his room. He closed the door, making sure that he was alone as he gazed up at the moon. he smiled longingly, his honey-colored eyes glazed with nostalgia.

"How I wished you'd dance once more, sister of the Imbibator Lunae. The Saltator Lunae, Dancer of the Moon..." he whispered.