#i could understand that there was no time for mourning in the middle of battle

[dyaz-stories]

i'm actually going to be so upset if we don't see anyone mourning gojo

like so far we haven't seen anyone care? we haven't seen anyone be even a little sad or grateful for his death. what do you mean he wrote them letters and nobara went 'yuck' and megumi said 'let's get this over with' i'm losing my fucking mind

like if a character that's this important disappears from your story you can't just. sweep it under the rug. like when jiraiya and ace die we saw everyone grieving their loss because they mattered to people.

doesn't gojo deserve that too?

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 65 ~ A Friend

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 5.8k

In this chapter ~ After the restless night spent in the barn, amends were made the following morning, just the closure Rose needed to finally be able to move on. Though the peace didn't last, especially when the group is greeted with a new and unfamiliar face. A stranger who spreads the word of the community he comes from.

After Rick's motivational speech, and hundreds of walkers trying to break down the barn doors at nightfall, sleep still didn't come to me. I remained wide awake, numbly looking around at my surroundings for an eternity and a half until the sun started to peek through the cracks of the walls. It was only then I started to slightly doze off. Exhaustion ached in my bones, begging for me to get a few hours of rest in the safe space while I had the chance, yet I still tossed and turned uncomfortably.

My eyes fluttered shut after the long hours of restlessness, not even registering the footsteps that were approaching until the figure sat themselves down beside me. My neck jerked a bit as I opened my eyes slowly when I felt the presence, my heart sinking a little when I saw it was Maggie. It's not that I didn't want to talk to her, I just didn't know how. I didn't know what to say. It felt stupid and inconsiderate to bring up Beth, but yet it was the only thing on my mind, and something we hadn't so much as acknowledged in weeks.

She looked me over for a few lingering moments, managing a small smile, the first one I had seen from her in a very long time. I found myself unable to hold back one of my own, watching as her eyes lit up at just my simple gesture.

At first we didn't speak, just enjoying what was left of the quiet until her voice came out just barely above a whisper. "I miss you."

The simplicity felt like a punch to the gut, but what seemed to hurt worse was the softness of her tone. She didn't sound bitter, or angry at me for avoiding her whenever I could. Just sad.

"I miss you too." I whispered, trying to swallow my emotion. "Mags, I'm so sorry. I just...I've been...I didn't know what to say; I still don't. I'm just so sorry." I admitted sadly.

She shook her head, "You don't ever need to say you're sorry to me, okay? I just needed to...actually talk to you again. I know you've been distant because of everything, and I understand why...but please-"

"I'm trying." I interrupted softly, "I had an...epiphany last night, or something," I huffed, "It made me realize what I was doing...and I just need to keep fighting. We all do. Pushing everyone away isn't the way to do that...so, I'm trying."

A tear of utter exhaustion slipped down her rosy cheek as she nodded again, "I'm trying too. Even though it feels impossible...suffering with one thing after another. But I understand the need to be alone being easier than facing whatever hell we've ended up in...believe me, I do." she sniffled.

My chest ached upon hearing her own battle with sadness, reaching out to wrap my arms around her shoulders before I could even process what I was doing, pulling her into a tight hug. She sighed shakily, feeling her arms come around my middle in an instant as her shoulders began to shake whilst she cried. And it wasn't long before her sobs coaxed my own, the two of us finally mourning the loss of Beth together, the relief feeling like no other.

"I miss her." she muttered through the tears.

I nodded slowly, "Yeah...me too."

She gripped onto me tighter, my shirt scrunching up in her grasp as we were both content with quietly crying in each other's arms. In a way, this was something that we both needed. Clearing the air, the tension, and everything else in between as I felt like I could finally look her in the eye again. Something therapeutic. Neither one of us knew how much time passed while we let everything out, but it didn't matter to me. I just knew that I had her back, and that's all I could care about right now.

Eventually we untangled our arms from one another, laughing quietly once we saw each other's tear stained cheeks. Nothing about it was funny, but the sleep deprivation was clearly catching up to the both of us.

She attempted to dry her eyes with the back of her hand, "She loved you a whole lot you know."

I smiled sadly, "I could say the same thing about you."

The sound of shuffling from just behind me is what cut the conversation short, seeing Daryl moving quietly to lean up against the wall, closing his eyes once more to block the blinding sun. I frowned at the thought of having to talk to him after everything that happened. I knew we were okay, but I just didn't know what I would say. I didn't know how to even begin to explain everything that had been running through my head, it was all too much.

Though Maggie noticed my change in emotion, "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

My gaze turned toward her again, "What isn't wrong?" I asked bitterly, letting out a soft breath, "I have no idea...what I'm going to say to him."

She glanced past my shoulder to see where I was nodding before scoffing quietly, "You joking? That man practically kisses the dirt you walk on, it'll be alright...promise. Don't worry over it too much."

"I don't even know where to start." I muttered.

She shrugged, "Tell him everything."

I rolled my eyes slightly, "Start. I don't know where to start."

She laughed quietly, "Okay...just explain how you've been feeling, how hard it's taken a toll on you. And reassure him it has nothing to do with him."

"Okay," I agreed, "You know, with my luck I'll probably end up word vomiting all over him but...better than bottling it up, right?"

An amused smile crossed her face, "Right." she echoed, slowly standing back up to her feet, "I'm going to talk to Sasha, maybe take a walk...you're more than welcome to come with if you want."

My eyes glanced from her to Daryl a few times, thinking about how some fresh air would be nice, but in my mind, I knew what was more important. "I- uh...I think I've got some stuff to take care of first."

She glanced back over to where my eyes kept darting to, nodding in understanding before she walked over near where Sasha had been sleeping for the night. I watched as she leaned down to gently wake her, before they both headed outside the barn doors quietly to talk.

My heart felt a bit heavier as I looked back towards Daryl, seeing his eyes were still closed as he groggily attempted to wake up for the day and I sighed to myself. What was I supposed to say? How much was I going to tell him? How I was sorry for my mood swings yesterday? I felt that I was never really good at expressing my negative feelings and he deserved something that was actually worth listening to.

But I guess I was just going to have to wing it, seeing as though my body was being drawn to him faster than I anticipated.

I cautiously sat myself down next to him, the noise my boots made not going unnoticed by him as he immediately seemed to open his eyes. He jolted a bit on alert, but once he was it was just me, he relaxed greatly. It still managed to amaze me that after all we've been through, biting his head off no less than yesterday, he still looked at me with all the love in the world. He looked at me as if nothing happened, like everything was perfectly fine. But we both knew that wasn't the case.

"Hi." I whispered.

Though I internally cursed the moment the word left my mouth. Hi? What the hell was wrong with me? Well, I guess you have to start somewhere.

He chuckled softly, "Hey."

I took a deep breath, "I'm so sorry." I spoke quietly, tears already threatening to fall from my eyes from only three words, and yet I had so much more to say.

"I've been pulling away from everyone...thinking it would be easier...but believe me, pulling away from you hurt me more than you could imagine. I didn't mean any of the things I said yesterday, about letting me go...don't." I pleaded, "Because I don't want to let you go. I couldn't have asked for a more supportive husband, especially right now, being there for me even when I didn't want you to be. You've been incredible and I've just been such a bitch, and I'm just- I'm so sorry-"

The entire time I was talking, I watched as he bit his lower lip to try and keep himself together. But toward the end where my voice started to crack, he finally had enough and brought his hands up to my cheeks to wipe my tears.

"Shh," he shushed me, "It's okay, it's okay." he whispered before slowly bringing me into a hug, giving me a chance to pull away if I wanted, but that was far from what I wanted. I practically crashed into his arms and held onto him tightly like I never wanted to part from him again, but the truth was I didn't. I felt like I lost so much time with shutting myself out, yet he was the same perfect man that was always willing to wait. I didn't deserve him. I never did.

"Don't you ever say yer sorry bout that." he said a bit sternly, pulling back to look me in the eye, "Ya hear me?"

I nodded my head tearfully. "I know yer hurtin. I know why ya said the things ya said, or did the things ya did. Ya never have to explain yerself to me. M' always gonna be right here...didn't I promise ya that yesterday?"

I nodded again, "I- I just didn't want you to think that-"

"I know," he said softly, "I know, Rosie." he wiped more tears from my cheeks as he spoke in a hushed tone, "The only thing that hurt me these past few weeks was seein ya so broken. And the fact that I didn't know how to help, hurt me even more."

"I'm sorry." I repeated like a broken record.

He shook his head firmly, "Stop. Stop apologizin."

I exhaled a shuttering breath, nodding my head again, "I wanted you to know how much I didn't mean it. How much I wanted to take it back right after I said it."

"I know," he assured once more, "I won't hold it against ya...just wanna be able to be here for ya."

I shook my head slowly, "You have been. You've been so patient with me...you're perfect."

He scoffed, "I ain't perfect."

"You are to me." I stated almost firmly, wanting him to hear just how much I apricated him.

He smiled the biggest smile I had seen from him in a while, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he leaned in to plant a brief kiss on my lips before bringing me into his embrace once more. It was like fireworks erupted in my stomach at the familiar feeling. He was always so gentle and loving, which only made me only pull him in closer. His hand traced soothing circles along my back whilst the other went up to my hair, running his fingers through my mess of curls. I missed his touch. I missed his warmth. I missed him.

He pulled back slightly after a few moments, peppering soft kisses across my skin as if he had been deprived, his beard tickling and scratching me to which I laughed into his shoulder. I heard a soft hum vibrate through his body, his arms squeezing me tighter.

"I missed that sound." he muttered quietly.

I felt my face flush a bit at the sincerity behind his voice, pulling my face back enough to look at him, "I missed you."

He tilted his head a bit, "I missed ya more, angel."

I smiled softly, pecking his lips once more before I snuggled into his side, letting out a breath of relief I felt I had been holding in for ages. His presence alone was something that I desperately needed, not knowing just how bad I needed it until I had it again.

We found ourselves talking amongst one another for what felt like forever as the morning slowly ticked by. There was simply too much to say, too much to fill in of the events that happened during the long and hopeless weeks. It felt like a breath of fresh air, having someone listen to you so intently when you could've sworn that these thoughts and feelings you brought up were pointless after feeling so small for so long.

Our voices didn't quiet down until we noticed almost everyone was slowly starting to wake now, knowing we would surely have to get a move on soon. My eyes looked around as they scattered, slowly packing their things and overhearing the hushed conversations, my gaze eventually catching sight of Rick. He was already looking toward me, his brows furrowed slightly in worry as if there was a silent question he was projecting across the space between us. I could read it clear as day.

My only response was a simple smile, assuring him that I was just fine. And that alone seemed to take some of the weight off his shoulders, nodding back toward me subtly, the exchange being for our eyes only.

But the peaceful moment was quickly cut shorter than I would've liked as the barn doors creaked loudly when they opened once more, my head tilting up a bit to see who entered the space. I assumed it was only Maggie and Sasha coming back inside considering how long they had been out. But what I didn't expect was to see a man trailing behind them, Daryl and I trading only one look before we both jumped up to our feet.

"Everyone...this is Aaron." Maggie announced.

The group perked up at the unfamiliar name, the sound of guns loading filling the air after her voice traveled around, finding myself instinctively aiming my weapon at the man as well.

I fell in line beside Rick while Daryl brushed past everyone else to look out the barn doors, sticking his head outside to glance around and make sure no one else lingered there from what he could see. I aimed my gun right at the man's head, but I didn't feel any type of fear, silently knowing I would kill him in a split second if he tried anything. My only question was why? Why the fuck did they bring him back here? Clearly, we had learned nothing from recent events.

"We met him outside, he's by himself." Maggie assured with raised hands.

"We took his weapons, and his gear." Sasha added.

I saw the two women gesturing and talking from the corner of my eye, but I never took my stare off the stranger in front of us. Everyone remained dead silent, watching as Daryl shut the wooden doors with a slam before swiftly turning around to pat him down, making sure he didn't have any hidden things under his clothes. Though in the end he didn't find anything, letting out a huff as he stepped back, watching him like a hawk. The man himself felt the tension in the room, his eyes looking all of us over a bit fearfully. Watching as he slowly became more intimidated.

"Hi," Aaron breathed, "It's nice to meet you." he greeted while attempting to take a step forward, only for Rick to send him a glare which ultimately kept him in place.

"You said he had a weapon?" Rick asked Maggie.

She nodded silently before stepping over towards him to hand over the small gun, Rick examining it in his hands for a moment before placing it behind his back, "Is there something you need?" he asked.

"He has a camp nearby. He wants us to audition for membership." Sasha informed.

I furrowed my brows, "Audition?" I asked in disbelief.

His head turned as soon as he heard me speak, "I- I wish there was another word for it. Audition makes it sound like we're some kind of a dance troupe...that's only on Friday nights." he attempted to joke, laughing lightly at his own words. But no one else followed, and he seemed to realize he was dealing with a pretty tough crowd.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "And uh, it's not a camp. It's a community. And I think you all would make valuable additions. But it's not my call, my job is to convince you all to follow me back home."

I couldn't shake the anxious feeling that formed in my stomach that this was an awful lot like when a murder tries to get a child to hop in his van because he said he had candy. The way he worded things wasn't very convincing to me. And Rick beginning to tense from beside me only caused my nerves to grow.

"I know, if I were you I wouldn't go either. Not until I knew exactly what I was getting into..." Aaron assured before looking behind him, "Sasha, can you hand Rick my pack?"

She stared at him for a moment before reaching down to pick up his bag from the ground, walking over to Rick and handing it over, "In the front pocket there's an envelope. There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community, that's why I brought those."

Rick opened it up, revealing the many pieces of paper inside that he easily started to look through. I dared to take my eyes off the man momentarily to glance over his shoulder to see what it was for myself, my eyes scanning multiple photographs of the community he was supposedly talking about. And he would not shut up.

"I apologize in advance for the picture quality, we just found an old camera store-"

"Nobody gives a shit." Daryl muttered.

Aaron looked over his shoulder at him with a nervous nod, "You're absolutely one hundred percent right." he spoke, my eyes still trained down to then see a picture of the front gates. "That's the first thing I wanted to show you. Because nothing I say about our community will matter unless you know you'll be safe. If you join us...you will be."

He kept going on and on about the thick walls and how nothing got through them without their say so, which was total bullshit. Even if nothing has gotten through thus far, it will. It always does.

I began to slowly tune out his voice while scanning each and every one of the images that Rick thumbed through, noticing the fact that he didn't seem to be listening to him either. The moment he hit the end of the somewhat endless pictures, he looked down at me, as if silently asking my opinion on what to do with this guy. I glanced back to see him still rambling, my mind racing as I thought of what answer to give.

I wasn't sure if we were ready to take another risk like this, and we sure as hell didn't have it in us to lose anyone else. I didn't want to deal with strangers, and judging by how big this place looked, there was going to be a lot of new people surrounding us constantly. I didn't want to go through it all over again.

My eyes panned back up to Rick's face, seeing him still waiting expectantly for any kind of indication of what I was thinking. I simply shook my head at him. And apparently that was the only answer he needed. He instantly turned to begin to walk up toward the man without a second thought, Aaron still seeming a bit unphased by the man approaching him in record speed. But before he could even blink, he fell back onto the ground harshly after Rick laid him on his ass with one single punch. It was then and only then I lowered my gun, seeing that he was passed out cold.

Everyone seemed utterly unphased with Rick's actions, except for Maggie and Sasha who quickly lowered themselves onto the ground next to him. The two looked him over carefully as they laid him down flat on his back, Daryl walking back over to search him once more just in case.

Michonne's voice sounded quietly from behind me, looking over my shoulder to see her slightly scolding Rick for what he did, seeming to believe the talk of the community. I couldn't blame her in the slightest for wanting to have hope, but everything he was spitting out almost seemed too good to be true. Rick's thoughts seemed to match mine as he didn't listen to her protests for very long, before his paranoia slipped through the cracks of the walls he attempted to build.

"We need eyes in every direction, they're coming for us." he announced, "We might not know how or when...but they are."

Maggie looked over at him in slight shock, "Sasha and I didn't even see him out there, if he wanted to hurt us he could've." she stated firmly.

But Rick ignored her, "Anyone see anything?"

"Just a lot of places to hide." Glenn muttered as he leaned further towards the small space in between the doors, squinting to try and see better into the distance.

I moved from my place, passing the few people in my way so I could come up next to him and see where he was looking. Rick demanded we keep an eye out with a slight panic in his voice and I did just that, scanning through the forest ahead of us to try and make out anything. Though I couldn't really see much from how far away we seemed to be, and who knows how many people he could potentially have out there with him.

"You see something I'm not?" Glenn asked in a hushed tone.

I shook my head, "No, nothing...we might actually have to go out there to try and find where his people are."

"If  he has any people." he clarified.

My head turned to look at him, squinting my eyes a bit while I gestured to the man still lying a few feet from us, "You can't look me in the eye and honestly tell me that this man right here, is alone out there. The guy looks like a grown eagle scouts' member for Christ's sake."

He blinked at the accuracy before his eyes settled on the ground instead, his silence alone telling me I had a point. I huffed softly to myself while glancing back outside for another moment, only to hear the man behind me suddenly laugh a little as he slowly came to.

I whipped back around to face him again, pulling out my gun to aim at his head from behind before he had the chance to get up, earning a look of disapproval from Maggie. She slowly shook her head at my actions, but I just shook my head back at her, telling her I wasn't budging.

"That's a hell of a right cross there Rick." he complimented groggily as his eyes surely still felt heavy.

Rick gestured with his hand, "Sit him up."

Maggie and Michonne moved to his aid, grasping his arms to help him up as he responded, "You're being cautious... I completely understand-"

"How many of your people are out there?" Rick asked harshly. The man hesitated to answer. "You have a flare gun to signal your people, so how many of them are there?" he asked again.

Aaron sighed, "Does it matter?"

I scoffed, "What the hell do you mean does it matter? Of course it does."

His head snapped back towards me, the end of my gun now right between his eyes as he spoke again, "I- I mean, of course it matters how many people are actually out there, but does it matter how many people I tell you are out there?"

My eyes narrowed at him, my patience thinning as he continued to speak, "Because I'm pretty sure no matter what number I say...eight, thirty-two, four hundred and forty-four, zero. No matter what I say you're not going to trust me."

"Well, it's hard to trust anybody who smiles after getting punched in the face." I pointed out as I loaded a bullet into the chamber.

He swallowed a bit thickly, "How about a guy who leaves bottles of water for you on the road?"

My heart stopped for a moment as I moved closer to press the gun up against the side of his head, causing him to laugh nervously, "How long you people been followin us?" my husband's voice cut through the thick silence.

Aaron glanced over at him, "Long enough to see that you practically ignore a pack of roamers on your trail. Long enough to see that despite a lack of food and water you never turned on each other. And long enough to see two people having a heart to heart after going through what seems like a whole lot." he finished, looking directly up to me.

His words only surprised be further, how much information he seemed to hold. But I didn't dare allow him to see how his words seemed to affect me. "You're survivors," he continued, "And you're people. Like I said- and I hope you won't punch me for saying it again, that is the most important resource in the world."

There was a long silence that followed and it seemed like we weren't getting many answers that we wanted, just answers that he wanted us to hear. I for one was getting sick of him rambling on and on, my frustration growing as I pressed the gun further into his temple to grab his attention.

When his eyes met mine, once again I asked, "How many others are out there?" my tone cold and demanding.

He sighed shakily before finally answering, "One."

I looked up instinctively to find Rick's face in the mix of the others, seeing him shaking his head at me as he copied my actions from earlier, telling me he didn't trust it one bit. Aaron looked between Rick and I, the wheels turning in his head at our silent conversation, "I knew you wouldn't believe me...if it's not words, if it's not pictures, what would it take to convince you that this is for real?"

No one answered his question, but a lightbulb seemed to appear in his head and he sat up a little straighter, disregarding the gun I still had to his head, "What if I drove you to the community?"

"No." I said immediately.

"Hey," Rick said to get my attention and held his hand out to stop me from talking, "I'm not sure how the sixteen of us are going to fit in a car you and your one friend drove down here in."

"We drove separately." he stated, "If we found a group, we wanted to be able to bring them all home, there's enough room for all of us."

"And you're parked just a couple miles away?" Carol asked.

"East on ridge road just after you hit Route 16." Aaron informed, "We wanted to get closer but then the storm came and blocked the road. We couldn't clear it."

"Yeah, you've really thought this through." Rick muttered still in disbelief.

Aaron sighed, "Rick, if I wanted to ambush you, I'd do it here. You know light the barn on fire while you slept, pick you off as you ran out the only exit...you can trust me." His eyes then moved back over to me, "And you don't have to keep a gun to my head, I won't try anything." he assured in a soft tone.

"Look at my face." I snapped.

His eyes immediately scanned my features, noticing his attention being drawn to the one thing I wanted him to see. What I wanted him to remember. I gestured towards the prominent scars, "This right here...is what happened the last time I let my guard down for a split second...so I think I'm good."

His eyes widened a little, but he didn't break eye contact as he slowly nodded, "Whatever makes you more comfortable."

His compassion threw me off a little, but I still didn't back down. I could feel everyone tense a little at the sensitive subject, and no one knew what to say next. Their minds were all racing on what to do, but I already knew my vote; we weren't going anywhere. None of us were ready to trust people again.

"I'll go check out the cars." Michonne announced, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence that fell.

"There aren't any cars." Rick spoke lowly.

"There's only one way to find out." she argued.

"We don't need to find out." he said quickly without missing a beat.

She took a step closer to him, "We do." she assured, a beat of silence passing before she continued, "You know what you know and you're sure of it...I'm not."

"Me neither." Maggie chimed in.

An unsettling feeling washed over me as I looked at the two of them in disbelief, slowly raising to my full height again and taking the gun away from Aaron's head in the process, "Hold on...have you guys forgotten the last time we tried to join a community, because I haven't."

The room was silent again as I continued to move forward towards them, "Hell, I wasn't even there and I remember how fucked up that shit was, what if this is the same thing? Do we really want to take that risk?"

"I would." Aaron piped in from behind me.

My face dropped as I turned around slowly again to face him, "Does it look like I was talking to you?"

His mouth clamped shut again, looking down toward the ground to avoid my eyes which caused a satisfied hum to escape me before I turned back to face the others. "All I'm staying is this is a big risk, and quite frankly I don't know if I'm willing to take it."

"No, we're doing this," Sasha argued, "We aren't going to let your one bad feeling ruin it for the rest of us...it's not our fault you have trust issues."

Her words cut through me like a knife as I instinctively stepped closer to her, but her hand flying towards her gun in her holster caused me to pause, my eyes traveling to it cautiously. I scoffed to myself as my eyes met hers again, continuing to slowly step closer to her, ignoring the protests of Rick from just behind my head. I didn't stop until I practically right in her face, tilting my head with narrowed eyes at the silent threat she had just made.

"Go ahead." I spoke.

She didn't meet my gaze, she simply couldn't because of her all bark no bite attitude, yet her hand didn't move either. I lowered my head a bit so she would finally look me in the eye and when I got her attention, I spoke again.

"Do it." I challenged.

I watched as her jaw clenched a few times before finally removing her hand and staying in place with her head hung low. She was really going to shoot me over a disagreement? Fuck this bitch.

I nodded my head with a scoff and backed away from her before I did something I regretted, feeling a hand on my shoulder turning me around. I came face to face with Rick as he tried to get my attention, clearly trying to prevent a fight from breaking out as he pulled me away from her.

"It wouldn't hurt to check out." Rick admitted quietly, his hand giving my shoulder a squeeze as if a silent plea not to freak out.

My eyes widened in shock, "You're kidding."

He shook his head, "If it's safe, we have nothing to worry about. We could send a group to check it out."

"And what happened to not believing this asshole five seconds ago?"

He sighed, "I'm thinking of Judith...and Carl...If this place is real and it's safe, the kids could have a life there...right?"

He knew damn well what he was doing by bringing the kids into this and it was working. Of course I knew that they both needed somewhere to grow up, not just the random shelter we found here and there, but an actual gated place. A safe place. One that they wouldn't have to be constantly watching their backs for the potential danger.

Which is the only reason why I found myself slowly nodding my head, "Okay...fine. But I'm going with that group to check the cars."

"Hell no you ain't." Daryl quickly stepped in upon hearing my assertiveness.

"I want to see for myself." I gently argued, "It'll help convince me that this is actually real...please."

He didn't get much of a chance to respond before Glenn spoke up, "I'll go too."

"Me too." Maggie offered.

I smiled at them in appreciation before looking over towards Abraham. As soon as we made eye contact, he nodded in agreement, "I'll walk with 'em." he stated while loading his gun.

Rick squeezing my shoulder caused me to look at him again, "Be safe." he said seriously.

"I will." I promised, pulling him in for a quick hug.

Once we broke away, I walked over to my bag to grab a few extra arrows, purposefully avoiding Daryl who clearly didn't like the fact that I was joining the others for the little quest. But I had all the badasses coming with me so I knew we would be fine no matter what happened. Though I knew he wouldn't let me leave without getting at least a few words in, and to no surprise, he was standing just behind me when I finally turned back around.

"Yes?" I asked sweetly, trying to butter him up at least a little.

He grumbled a little at my tone, "I don't like that yer goin out there..."

I sighed, "Yeah, well it's not up to you. Plus, I've always been able to handle myself fine, you know that better than anyone." I said as I adjusted the weapons on my frame.

He nodded, "I know...but that don't mean I gotta like it."

I smiled a little at him and stepped forward to leave a small kiss on his cheek, before pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and cradled the back of my head with one of his rough hands, kissing the side of it tenderly.

"Stay safe, ya hear me?" he muttered into my hair.

I nodded, "You too."

And just like that, we were off.

The small group we formed walked further and further away from the others in comfortable silence, taking the opportunity to let my mind wander a bit. I wanted to trust this guy. If I was being honest, he seemed genuine, and the pictures looked to be real. But then again people had become insanely dangerous, and risks were something that this group didn't do very often with every good reason you could imagine behind it.

I wanted this place to be real so badly but I almost didn't want to admit it out loud as if it would somehow jinx it. All of us deserved a safe place to rest our heads at night and eat a decent meal, but especially the kids. I wanted this place to be real for them. I wanted them to be able to grow up in a good environment, not one that was filled with fear. We had all been through so much, practically hell and back, that I felt we earned this.

Maybe this would be it. And I guess we were all about to find out.

~ Thanks for reading!

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[justthinkinboutbooks]

The development of Elriel (so far)

This is my (rather long) breakdown of what I believe to be the timeline of their relationship so far. I don't believe they love each other at this point in the books, but I definitely think they're on that path, and this is how we got there:

ACOMAF

This is when they first meet, but there are no romantic feelings between them.

During this book, Elain is in love and engaged and Azriel is still very much in love with Mor. However, when they meet, it is clear that they feel comfortable around each other.

Feyre points out that she thinks Elain would cling to Azriel for peace and quiet if she came to Velaris. That gives us the image of them together but, again, there are no romantically coded interactions between them.

At the end of the book, Elain is turned and learns that her mate is Lucien.

ACOWAR

This is where things start to get interesting.

In this book, Elain is still in love with Graysen and Azriel is still in love with Mor, but we start to see a shift as they spend time together.

From Azriel's perspective, I think he finds it easy to be around her, and finds her presence comforting, which is why he takes her out to the garden not once, but twice. He takes notice of her when others are writing her off as crazy and discovers what, specifically, has been plaguing her since she was turned fae. Not even Nesta really made that effort.

Not to mention, she calls his scars beautiful, which is something he is deeply insecure about.

He grows to care for her, but not yet romantically, as evidenced by his continued feelings for Mor. He probably didn't consider it given his feelings, her struggles, her mating bond, and her engagement.

But then he was the first to think of her when something mysterious went through the war camp. He was the first to volunteer to get her out, and he didn't want to let her go even when he was injured.

I think the rescue is when he first starts to realize that he cares for Elain more than normal. In fact, he cared for her enough that when the final battle came, he gave her Truth-Teller, something he never let another person touch before. Not even Mor, the person he's loved for 500 years.

From Elain's perspective, she's never been lower. She's lost her whole future she was excited for, she lost her mortality, and now she's seeing things others can't and is doing her best to communicate it but people aren't understanding her.

Then, someone listens. Someone figures it out. The very person who had taken her out to the garden and was content to sit quietly with her. The very person who had made her feel comfortable the first time the big scary fae came into her home when she was still human.

He pulled her out of that murky realm because he listened to her. Because he saw her when even her mate couldn't.

Of course, Elain still held out hope that she could marry Graysen. She wasn't about to jump into a relationship with anyone else. She wasn't interested.

But then he rejected her and she was clearly upset about it. While she was wallowing in her tent, the Cauldron kidnaps her and takes her right into the middle of the enemy's camp, which must have been horrifically terrifying. When she was chained and gagged and waiting for her captors to decide what to do with her, her rescuers arrive, and the first face she saw was the very same one that rescued her from her own mind.

"You came for me."

After helping her twice, she is now not only comfortable around him, but trusts him completely. So when he offers her his knife, she takes it, trusting what he offers her more than Cassian.

Then, of course, she was actually able to use TT, but that doesn't really affect the development of their relationship, so I'm gonna ignore it for now.

ACOFAS

This is where it starts to pick up.

Coming into this book, we now know that Elain and Azriel care for each other, but it's too early for either of them to jump into a relationship.

Elain is still mourning her relationship with Graysen.

Azriel still clearly has some residual feelings for Mor. There are some longing glances at her, a blush on his cheeks when she gives him a shitty present. But it's important to note that this is the last time we see that from him. We never see it again after the headache powder.

The other moments between Elain and Az in this book are great. The potatoes, his approaching her to wish her a happy solstice, they show us that these two characters have some budding feelings for each other, but the headache powder is by far the most significant moment because it changes everything.

Not only did it make him laugh in a way that took Feyre completely by surprise, but after centuries of receiving the most half-assed, mediocre gifts from the woman he loved, someone came along (someone who he already had some feelings for) and gave him a personal gift. A gift to show that she saw him, that she cared for him.

And then the two of them stayed up to the middle of the night talking about gardening. Azriel engages with Elain's interests and is trying to see her the way she clearly saw him.

ACOSF

We get less time with the two of them in this book, but that makes sense given that Nesta needed space from her sisters to heal.

But this is the book where it's pointed out to us through Cassian's POV that Az no longer seemed interested in Mor.

We see Az and Elain share a shy smile across the dinner table.

We see Az following the sound of Elain's laughter and "something charged" between them.

We see Nesta understand why Az keeps a distance at Solstice and she gives us "his secret to tell never hers"

All of this is meant to show us that they have feelings for each other. I don't believe it is yet love, but there is something there. Their feelings for others no longer seem to be an issue, the issue now is the mating bond. Which leads me to...

The bonus chapter

This BC is the final confirmation of Elain and Azriel's feelings.

They exchange thoughtful gifts, they nearly share a kiss, and they clearly have a mutual sexual attraction as well.

I'm sorry but you cannot tell me it's only lust on Az's part because of the headache powder, the thing that he's kept next to his bed and started at for a year.

He's not the type of person to lose so much sleep over being horny. It's been made clear to us on numerous occasions that he has no problem getting laid.

He wouldn't be willing to fight and possibly kill someone just for sex, either.

In the same way that the Nessian bonus chapter showed us that the barrier for their relationship was Nesta herself, I believe Az's bonus chapter is meant to show us that his barrier for a relationship with Elain would be the mating bond.

And that's it, really! That's how I think Elriel has developed throughout the books. Their development hasn't been loud and in your face because that's not who they are as people. They are quiet and keep their feelings to themselves, and that's reflected in how their romance has started.

[imperatorcaesaraugustus]

Jahaerys, Rhaenys, Aegon, and Cole: The Brutality of War

(this is one section of my House of the Dragon Season 2 Review)

Like the other sections of this review, I have named this one after the principal characters discussed. This section, however, is in truth less a discussion of certain characters and more a discussion of certain events. Here we will analyze the consequences of the defining incidents of the beginning and middle of the season: Blood and Cheese and Rook’s Rest.

            The Blood and Cheese incident is the name given in the book to the murder of Aegon’s son, Jahaerys. Daemon, seeking retribution for the death of Luke at the end of last season, travels to King’s Landing to speak with a guard of the city watch and a ratcatcher of the Red Keep. He hires them to sneak into the Red Keep and kill Prince Aemond, but he does not give clear instructions on what to do if Aemond cannot be found. So long as blood is spilled, any blood will do. And so the two assassins, after encountering a series of obstacles and disruptions to their plan, finally stumble upon Helaena and her children, the twins Jahaerys and Jahaera. They decide that killing Jahaerys would be the best way for them to achieve their goal, a son for a son. After a moment of confusion, Helaena tells them which child is which, and they cut Jahaerys’ head off.

            The death of Jahaerys ripples out among the members of the Green faction. Aegon is driven to fury, desperate to exact revenge against Rhaenyra for what has been done to his family. Criston Cole is also motivated to act, but out of guilt. He was with Alicent when the incident occurred and therefore could not prevent it, but he cannot admit this fact, so he projects this onto Ser Arryk, sending him on an assassination mission to Dragonstone. Aegon promotes Cole to Hand of the King for this, dismissing Otto who is pushing for a more measured response, and thus his grief leads to the inevitability of greater bloodshed and the death of the possibility of more diplomatic solutions. Ser Arryk, for his part, is spotted by Ser Erryk, and so brother kills brother in an act of tragic violence that produces no greater ends. Helaena, meanwhile, says to Alicent that she does not feel as though she can grieve Jahaerys since so many others are also suffering in this war. She is correct in her understanding that everyone in the city is a victim of the war, just as Alicent is correct in saying that Helaena still has the right to grieve. When Rhaenyra first meets with Alicent this season, the death of Jahaerys is a major reason why they are unable to stop the war.

            The second event I want to discuss is the Battle of Rook’s Rest. In this battle, Cole and Aemond conspire to set a trap for the Black faction. They attack the seat of a member of Rhaenyra’s council in the open, hoping that a dragon will come to lift the siege. When one does, Aemond will attack with Vhagar. The plan starts off successful, with Rhaenys arriving on her dragon Melys, but before the trap is sprung Aegon shows up on his dragon Sunfyre. In the end, many die, including Rhaenys, and Aegon is left horribly burned.

            Rhaenys’ death is deeply felt among the Black faction. Rhaenyra looses her most capable dragonrider and one of the only members of her council who does not constantly doubt her, but more relevantly to the theme we are focusing on in this section, Corlys mourns her loss deeply. He questions his support of Rhaenyra, having already lost his daughter and, he believes, his son. In his eyes, the connection to Daemon and Rhaenyra has cost him his entire family. He begins to consider the future of his house in this difficult time, asking Baela to be his heir, but she turns him down. She is a Targaryen, not a Velaryon, eager to follow in the footsteps of her grandmother. Through this war, even one of the most powerful houses in the

            Aegon’s story after Rook’s Rest is the story of a discarded veteran. Before the battle, he was eager to fight, wanting to contribute to the war. Afterward, he is told by Larys upon waking that he will forever be remembered as someone who survived dragonfire, but materially he has been pushed aside, his throne taken from under him by the brother who burned him. The only one who seems not to forget him is Larys, who understands what it means to exist as a disabled person in the society of Westeros. Larys informs Aegon of the harsh reality of what his new life will be, consistently pushing him to improve faster so he may survive in an uncaring world.

            It is through Cole that we see the effect of battles such as Rook’s Rest on the common people. Cole is deeply traumatized by the destruction he witnesses, men burned to death and left as suits of armor filled with ash. He begins the season eager for war, doubling down once Jahaerys dies and he is made hand. After, he is unable to think of anything but the agonizing death that awaits so many when dragons are led into war.

            The question now is whether or not these stories and this theme worked in the show. Let us start with Blood and Cheese. I did not like Blood and Cheese, but my disappointment largely comes from comparing it to the book, and I want to try and examine the show on its own merits here. The beheading of Jahaerys was a truly horrific act, and it does serve to highlight how the cycle of revenge and the decent into war causes the death of innocents. But I do feel the gravity of the moment was somewhat undercut by the comedy of errors that was the infiltration of the Red Keep. One could read it as being part of a broader theme of poorly thought-out actions having serious consequences, in line with the death of Luke at the end of last season, but I just don’t think it really lands here. Helaena’s reaction to the death of her son, both in the moment and afterwards, seems to have been a matter of controversy among some fans. She shows very little outward reaction and later says that she does not feel like she can grieve. I personally had no issue with the immediate reaction, it seemed very clear to me that she was shutting down in response to the event, clearly traumatized even if she was not crying and wailing. As for her later statement, I read it at the time as Helaena not allowing herself to grieve rather than genuinely feeling no grief, but that is admittedly a charitable reading and I don’t know that her later scenes really supported that interpretation. The battle between the Cargyll twins was excellent, however, and solidly supported this theme with how tragic and ultimately pointless it was.

            In contrast to Blood and Cheese, I thought the actual event of Rook’s Rest was very well done, displaying not just incredible spectacle but also showcasing the horrors of war. As for the aftermath, each story supports the theme in a different way. Rhaenys dies, leaving behind a void that cannot truly be filled. Baela is inspired to follow in her footsteps, showing the ways in which the drive for war spreads and ensnares further generations, an ever-descending spiral of tragedy and revenge, while Corlys is left alone, his whole family lost to Rhaenyra’s war. Aegon lives but is physically disabled. He is given credit for the victory and for the death of Rhaenys and Melys, and Larys tells him that he will be forever remembered for the extraordinary feat of surviving dragonfire, but these platitudes do not change the position he is in. He has been discarded, left in his bed while his brother rules the kingdom. If he were to become to inconvenient to Aemond, he would be killed. The Grand Maester works to heal him, but it is Larys and only Larys who understands him. Finally, Cole is physically unharmed, but mentally he has been scarred by the battle. The things he has seen, things that he himself helped bring about, haunt him. Of everyone, Cole’s post-battle story epitomizes this theme the most strongly, though I think of them all Aegon’s story is the best done and one of the strongest in the entire show. It does stand out to me having written this that this particular theme is shown with the Greens far more than the Blacks, but I think that may just be an accident of where we are in the story, and we cannot forget that the season begins with the reaction to the death of Luke. Neither side is devoid of loss, and both will experience more, for that is the inevitable consequence of war.

[nanaminokanojo]

00:00:01

Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | You

A spin-off to this.

TW: angst without comfort | mcd

I went to my personal Instagram account where I thought I won't see Satoru on my reels, but suddenly, this edit of his high school days comes up and the song was Lamp's "Yume Utsutsu" and I go, "Oh come on! I just stopped fucking crying!" Anyway, please enjoy and suffer with me.

~*~

You truly are alone now.

It was a selfish thought. It was uncalled for in that situation, unjustified even. Everything was at a standstill as the scales tipped over in favor of the curses. And in the middle of it all, Gojo Satoru, the only honored one between heaven and earth, has fallen.

The strongest has fallen. To everyone else, at least, what was palpable was the fact that the odds just became more daunting without him. If Gojo himself was defeated, lying in a pool of his own blood, what hope was there for anyone else?

It was the truth, but you couldn't process that at all, everyone else be damned. The whole world could be on the verge of exploding and the whole human race could go extinct in a blink of an eye. Still, all you could feel were the cold hands of loneliness as it slowly wrapped its icy fingers around your heart.

Gojo Satoru was your best ally in all sense of the word, one of the two dearest friends you have left. Above everything else, he was probably the only one in the world who fully understood the weight you carried all those years ago. It was a burden you shared with him, and somehow, it was easier knowing there was someone else who knew your pain in its molecular degree. It comforted you that for once, when he said he knows, you believed it.

And yet, you stood behind multiple screens, watching the only person in the universe who truly knew you. You've never felt lonelier in your life.

One last time, you saw the glory behind those impossibly blue eyes shine their brightest before turning glassy and dark as the life in them drained out, amplified by the red that began to surround his snow-white hair. The Gojo Satoru that you knew lay in tatters in the midst of the rubble, a patch of blue sky in a field of crimson blooms.

This time, no one will sit with you and hold you together while you drown every semblance of feeling like you did when Geto Suguru died by his hands. No one will know you well enough to know what to say or do. No one will comfort you enough to ease the debilitating pain that rendered you an inch towards death on the inside.

Your only true ally was gone.

"Brave of you to come here alone," the voice of your former lover said, coming like jagged spikes through your chest, knowing that it wasn't really him who was talking to you. "But I guess, I understand why you're here."

Geto Suguru, or rather Kenjaku, beckoned you over with a flourish of his hand, gesturing towards the chair across from him. It wasn't hard to look for him, having been too accustomed to the life force he possesses, one you would recognize without a doubt even if it was tainted and violated by a dark presence.

You did as you were told, glancing over the destroyed wall of what remained of the high-rise cafe he chose to witness the battle between Gojo and Sukuna. You merely stared down at the chaos below, merely recognizing the spot where Gojo currently lays.

"You mourn..."

Your lifeless eyes shifted towards the man before you, very much like the one you knew in your youth, loved and cherished with everything that you are, the same man Gojo Satoru calls his only best friend. The only thing that told you outright that it was a different being before you were those cursed stitches on his forehead, and yet you tried your very best to look past them.

An exhausted smile etched itself across your lips as you looked into those eyes, trying to find the amber in them despite being muddled in a darker color. He looked disconcerted as he regarded you.

"The day you died, I..." you started, swallowing the lump in your throat. You breathed in deeply, drawing as much courage as you can muster in your current state. With a sigh, you said, "Satoru and I mourned your death, you know."

"Geto Suguru cannot hear you."

You chuckled. "We were both such a mess." Again, you glanced at the spot where you knew Gojo would be, ignoring the vicious words that cut you deeper than any slashes Sukuna could ever inflict. "From the moment you decided you didn't want to stand on the same side with us anymore up to that moment you declared war. Satoru was way better at dealing with his feelings. Always have been, but I cannot say he didn't struggle to figure out where to start picking up the pieces, too."

Tears started pooling in your eyes, but you still smiled despite all the hurt. "No one understands us more than each other where you're concerned. And even in his last conscious moments, I bet he's thinking of you."

Just then, a hand covered yours, a familiar warmth surging in through every pore of your skin which it touched. Those fingers squeezed yours, reassuring albeit weak. It was gone before you could make sense of it, and you were met with the smirking face of Geto Suguru, a concealment of the fleeting sorrow that crossed his features.

You hung your head low, closing your eyes as memories of your youth with both Gojo and Geto started flashing before your eyes. And when you raised your head, your tears had finally fallen. "And now...the only person I share that with is also gone."

You took a deep breath, letting the painful truth of it all sink in and engulf every cell in your body. Gojo Satoru, who had been your rock through everything, wasn't there to hold you together like he did before even if he himself was falling apart back then. You wished you could have at least held his hand as he was lost to the world, made sure he knew he wasn't alone like he did for you back then. But what can you do?

"I'm going to miss him terribly no matter how annoying he is," you murmured through hollow laughter. "I couldn't even thank him."

You grinned bitterly. "I thought he couldn't hear me."

Kenjaku – you choose to call the being before you for who he really is – shrugged. "I must say Geto Suguru's spirit is just as hard to break as it is to face Gojo Satoru. It's not easy possessing this body like any other. I see why they're the strongest."

"You should instead see why they are friends," you corrected. "They're not just 'the strongest' as you put it. Shame you had to pit them against each other for the second time."

"I..." Kenjaku choked the word out, a single tear falling from his left eye. "Y-y/N..."

You nodded, directing your gaze down to where Gojo was. "I know, Suguru. I know. I'm sorry, too."

"Enough –"

Kenjaku can't seem to take full control as his face contorted into confusion and frustration, so you took your chance.

"You did your best for Riko. I'm proud of you, I hope you know that." Your tears flowed freely now. "Satoru did his very best for everyone, too, and I know he's just as proud of you for doing what you can until it got too much to handle. You two just grew up too fast, but I guess you can both rest easy now."

Again, you met his gaze. "Sorry we couldn't do as you asked us – live long and happy – but know that we both wanted to. Even if you weren't there anymore."

You stood up and crossed the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his dark locks one last time. You were half expecting to die at that very moment, but that moment didn't come even as you stayed longer than you could ever hope to do so.

"But at least Satoru can keep his promise to meet you again now." You kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry if I might take a bit longer, but I'll make the same promise Satoru did..."

You drew back and walked towards the edge of the open wall, and with a wave you said, "We'll meet again."

~*~

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20230924]

[queenjunothegreat]

Excerpt from my upcoming Star Trek AU

Sorry, guys, I am incurably impatient, and this was such a fun scene to write that I couldn't not share. (｡◕ω◕｡✿)     

Jason nodded in understanding, then started tugging Leo towards the big, plush bed in the middle of the room. “Come on. Sleep time. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

Leo gasped in offense. “Commander Grace! Are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

“That is almost always at least a subconscious goal of mine, yeah.”

Leo snickered and shoved Jason so they fell into bed together. They blindly kicked their boots off to sit in a pile next to the bed, and Jason took a moment to mourn the sleep set he had folded up under his pillow on the Argo. He hadn’t expected this to be an overnight mission, else he would have packed better, even if Leo didn’t seem to mind all the extra layers. He was still too far away, though, so Jason huffed and tugged at him. “Come here,” he ordered, his tone going a little hard.

“Aye, sir!” Leo’s eyes lit up in amusement as he did as he was told and flopped down over Jason’s chest, chin digging softly into his clavicle. Jason heaved a deep sigh of relief and squeezed Leo until he heard him let out a soft wheeze of air.

“You know,” Leo said conversationally, tracing his finger over the Command patch on Jason’s chest, “If you ever do wind up getting Captaincy, they’re going to have to put me on a different ship.”

Jason immediately stiffened and he clutched at Leo, almost possessively. “What? Why?”

Leo grinned like all of his plans came to fruition at once. “Because your command voice is just too damn sexy. You’d be all like ‘Crew we are under red alert. Battle stations,” and I’d just fling myself in your lap in that stupid Captain's chair like ‘Oh, Captain Grace, take me now!’ I’d traumatize all the poor Ensigns. Sorry, but Starfleet doesn’t pay me enough to afford their therapy sessions and mine.”

Jason laughed so hard he felt it in his bones and he ducked his head to press his nose into Leo’s curls again. “That would be truly terrible, yes.”

“Mhm. That’s why they’re going to separate us.”

“I don’t really like the sound of that,” Jason said honestly. “I can’t think of anything less fulfilling than exploring the stars without you.”

Leo was quiet for a moment before he snorted derisively, but Jason could feel the heat in his cheeks when he nuzzled under Jason’s chin. “Sap. Fine, I’ll stay on your ship. But you’ve got to figure out a less sexy command voice, got it?”

“I’ll do my best,” Jason hummed. Suddenly, Kihone’s words from before rang in his ears. Greatness rings in your name. You should not rob your father of the credit he is due. “Hey, Leo?”

“Mhm?”

“What do you think about the name Captain Valdez?”

Leo paused then sat up so he could get a good look at Jason’s face. Jason just laid still and allowed himself to be looked at. “Depends. Does that name come with a promotion for me?”

Jason shook his head. “Not unless you want it to.”

Leo watched him for another moment before he surged forward and pressed their mouths together. “Then I think that’s the best damn name I’ve ever heard, Jace,” he mumbled low against Jason’s lips.

Jason smiled and brought his hands up to brush his thumbs across Leo’s cheekbones and kissed him again. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Also solves our traumatized Ensigns issue,” Leo grinned. “‘Take me now, Captain Valdez’ would be super weird for me to say in the heat of the moment.”

Jason snorted and knocked their foreheads together. “Oh, good. Glad that’s solved. Now, go to sleep. I want us to be out of here first thing in the morning.”

“Aye, Future Captain Valdez,” Leo teased, pressing one last kiss to Jason’s mouth before tucking his head under Jason’s chin.

Jason hummed softly to himself as he traced meaningless shapes against Leo’s back. Captain Valdez, he thought. I think I like the sound of that. 

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

[deathbxnny]

What if Yanqing had a Crystal Gem! S/O? They used solid light to create a construct that’s their body while their soul is stored in their gem. (A green lotus-shaped Jade on their back.). They can create and summon their weapon at will and can even fight as well as Yanqing.

But I’m an angst lover, so time for the angst.

So long as their gem remains unharmed, they can regenerate without problems. Not that Yanqing knows this.

Not when in the middle of a fight, they take a blow for him and suddenly *POOF*. They’re gone and a green Jade lotus is all that remains. He scrambled to collect it before it could get crushed. Now, a few days later, it sits in his room as he either mourns his s/o or waits for them to regenerate.

It depends on if they told him.

-----♡

A/N: Hey there Anon! I think this is a Steven universe related ask and I'm just gonna be honest and say, that I've never really watched the show. But I still tried my best to understand this for you and thank you for the request! I hope you'll like it and thank you also for your patience!<3

Content: Angst, hurt/no real comfort, established relationships, mentions of reader kind of "dying", mentions of battles/injuries, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

Yanqing was horrified beyond belief, when he just saw you disappear the moment your body was pierced by the enemy. A yell of your name was stuck in his throat, as he just stared right at the green gem that clattered to the ground. He knew of your abilities and what you were. But seeing you just... turn into nothing so fast shocked him so much, that it took him a moment to compose himself.

He snapped out of it at the sight of the enemy trying to shatter you and made quick work of them, before scrambling to pick you, or rather the gem, up. He inspected all sides in panic for cracks or broken off pieces, but let out a sigh of slight relief, when you were still in perfect condition. But then it dawned on him, that he was unsure of what to do now.

Sure, you had told him in passing about what would happened to you, if your body got damaged greatly. But he didn't expect this. As he put you somewhere safe in his room, he began blaming himself. The only reason you ended up this way, was because you protected him from a potentially lethal blow. Whilst he was eternally thankful to you, he also wished it was him instead. Seeing you turn into nothing but this small gem was making him sick with worry and stress.

Will you be able able regenerate? Will you come back? Can you come back? Please come back. Yanqing practically inconsolable and doesn't stray from your side, not even for his duties. He wanted to see you again. He wanted to apologise and thank you for saving him. He wanted to hug you, hold you, just have you here with him. And yet, all he could do was stare at your gem for days on end, waiting for your return.

Some tried to convince him, that you might've truly died for good. But he didn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. You'd be back soon, he was sure with it. And he'll wait for an eternity, if he had to.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was okay! Thank you again for the request and your patience, Anon!<33

[laufire]

I'll preface this by saying I haven't read the arc where Bruce shoots and kills Darkseid; I'm fuzzy on the details. the sources I've looked up here and there whenever the topic came to my mind seemed contradictory; I get the impression there was collaboration from some other heroes and it might've not been that clear cut? either way, I'm not going to read the arc rn (might in the distant future, if I choose to do something with it), but it seems there's agreement that this was the one time Bruce canonically planned to and followed through breaking his most sacred rule.

and I remember at one point I thought: what if this plot was used to give Bruce a better understanding of Jason's choices? what if it could make him not just willing to find a middle ground between them, but intentionally seek it? it wouldn't, couldn't be blanket acceptance, but if there's one point in canon that will even nudge him way from his increasingly uncompromising stance during the post-crisis/new earth continuity (1), it would be the one time he found his line in the sand, and realised that, unlike he always feared, he could walk back from it.

at the time it was no more than a passing thought, but just today, to close that chapter with the year, I read the very last few comics including new earth!Jason, in my completitionist quest of reading every single one of his (and every other version of Jason's) appearances. and two (technically three) of them reminded me of this.

one is his arc in convergence: batman and robin #1-2, published circa 2015 (revisiting new earth after 2011's reboot). it's part of a larger event that I can't be bothered to read fully rn (this ain't about them), but the gist of it is that Red Hood and Scarlet return to Gotham as some apocalyptic level shit is going down, helping Batman and Robin (Damian). Bruce accepts Jason's help, which bothers Damian, although by the end of the arc there's a truce between them and a clear willingness from everyone involved to work together going forward.

the other one is in batman incorporated vol. 1 #6, the last proper appearance of new earth!Jason before the reboot in 2011 kickstarted (the arc seemingly continued in vol. 2, but from what I already know about, and what little I've personally experienced from, the new 52, I'm not getting my hopes up). it consists on just a couple of panels where we don't see Jason's face or hear his name, and just see Bruce recruiting someone as "Wingman" (2), offering him a opportunity to "salvage a reputation" by joining his international bat-initiative, on a few conditions like keeping Jason's identity a mystery (3).

and I'm sure that if (when?) I read the aforementioned Darkseid's arc (and the subsequent time traveling shenanigans) there might be plenty to be found to contradict this post, because I do have some experience with detective comics comics. but these two instances are so easily aligned with my own take (4) that I had to post about it.

unfortunately, this is just making me mourn what-could-have-been, had the reboot never occured, even more than I ever did.

(1) pre-crisis/earth one!Bruce had a different attitude. and sometimes it feels that things like self-defence (batman vol. 1 #400) or defence of others (detective comics vol. 1 #411), two incredibly understandable motives, seem beyond the grasp of new earth!Bruce.

(2) if I ever do something with this plotbunny, I refuse to give him such a generic codename, just so we're clear.

(3) "we're building a ghost –a bogeyman too big to be clearly seen. its edges indistinct, it's full extent and purpose uncertain. a rumor. a terror made of shadows and flapping wings." MOURNING, I said 😭. also do you see why I think this deserved a much cooler name smh.

(4) the other things Jason did in between Bruce's not-so-dead experiences and this were during his Evol Era (battle for the cowl, batman and robin vol. 1). obviously nothing there would convince Bruce to suddenly approach him with more generosity than he did even in UTRH lol. but it'd make sense for it to be something Bruce did.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Would u consider a prompt where Nesta has given in and agrees to training and helping them with shit blah blah and Cassian although concerned about Nestas sudden submission one night finds her crying and try’s to comfort her and she’s like absolutely not and is almost like afraid of him

I heard it’s Nessian week? Why not take some prompts!

She could feel him standing outside her door. Every night, she could feel him. Standing outside her door, not making a single movement. Prison guard or nervous teenage boy, who could tell the difference. It was the not knowing that terrified her. Was he out there sharpening a sword or ringing sweaty palms together.

Preparing to hurl insults or confessions?

Which did she dread more?

At least the insults were honest.

Nesta’s entire body froze when thick knuckles rapped so gently she would not have heard any noise with human ears. Quickly, she wiped her nose and dried her eyes on the sheets beneath her. Tucking fabric awkwardly under her hip to hide the water mark.

“The House already sent in dinner.”

“I figured. Can I come in?”

“You have made it very clear that you can do whatever you like when it comes to removing my freedoms. I don’t see why privacy would be any different.

Nesta swore the wood on the door separating them thickened about two feet inside of Cassian’s pause.

“I won’t open the door without your permission.”

How gallant. “Will you continue standing there until I let you in?”

“I-” Cassian paused. So unlike him, to be at a loss for words. “Let me come in this once and I will not return to your door unless invited.”

“Is that a bargain?”

Silence again.

“Just a promise. Unless-”

“Come in.” Nesta did not need any more of Cassian inked into her skin than she already had.

Nesta always felt so small in his presence. In every meaning of the word. Now, watching Cassian fuel his wings to step through her door, she felt positively minuscule in the middle of this massive bed that was the size of the entire cottage she lived in for years.

“Why do you cry?” The question was so ernest that Nesta almost softened.

“Why do you not?” She asked with genuine curiosity. “After all you have seen, the wars and pain. How do you not weep every day?”

Cassian stepped closer, hand twitching at his side. Nesta shifted farther back in the bed and he stopped. “Are you afraid of me?”

“I am afraid of never being free again.” The more time she spent with him the greater chance she said something to infuriate him and was made to start back at square one. This was a game of endurance.

“Because there is still so much to live for.” Cassian said quietly. “Because there is more good in this world than bad.” Nesta’s face made it clear that she did not agree. “Because the good is worth fighting for,” Cassian amended. “I do not cry over the bad because there is still good. Because … crying doesn’t change anything.” Ah. There it was.

“Perhaps it isn’t about changing.” What was so wrong with simply … feeling. Mourning.

“You feel as though we trapped you? That we are trying to force happiness on you.”

“Not happiness,” Nesta looked out over the Sidra, finding more solace in its nearly black depths than in his golden eyes. “Utility, I suppose would be a better word.”

“Purpose,” Cassian half growled.

“And what is your purpose, general? Lead Rhys’ armies? Fight Rhys’ wars?”

“At least I fight for something.”

He would never understand. He could never understand that a person may want to live their life without fighting. Even love was a fight to him.

“You are addicted to fighting battles you cannot win.”

“And yet here I stand. Alive and breathing after so many impossible battles.”

Nesta snapped her gaze back to his at that. “Your swords and siphons will win no battles here.”

“You are not a battle, Nesta.” Satisfied by her reaction, Cassian smirked, “it has never been my intention to fight you.

“What is your intention, Cassian?” Nesta’s shoulders curled in with exhaustion. How long could they keep having this same fight. Keep running in circles around whatever this was.

“I have no idea.” Cassian’s honesty took all of the air out of the room. “This isn’t about my intentions. It isn’t about what I want.”

“How big of you.”

“Everything about me is big, sweetheart.” And just like that, crystal vulnerability cracked into a sparkling mist as equilibrium returned. Dirty jokes and rolled eyes and no answers.

There were worse games to play, Nestasupposed.

[irelandseyeonmythology]

Ok so I’m getting into the Fenian cycle and just read the palace/hostel of the quicken/Rowan trees, and I love it but there are a couple things that i’ve been trying to research to better understand it and I’m just not getting results. Who is the King of the World? The Lochlanns are the Fomorians, right? And where is the isle of the torrent?

Thank you for the ask! It's coming at a very opportune time as I've been diving into the world of the Fianna myself. (If you sent this to me a couple of years ago, I'd have been a little stumped even if I'd have done my best.)

So you sent this to me...ages ago, and I was at the Gaeltacht at the time, so I was typing up my response in Irish to be translated and. I. Went out of the window. And it hadn't been saved. And I was so depressed that I didn't want to go back to it until I had sufficiently mourned.

...but you can breathe a sigh of relief since, now that I'm no longer in the Gaeltacht, we are not bound by the custom of "when I'm there, I write only in Irish."

So, first off...let's go with Lochlann: What is Lochlann, who are the men of Lochlann? In Cath Maige Tuired, you're right, they're absolutely associated with the Fomoire, BUT! The reason why they're associated with the Fomoire is because there were real-life invaders from Lochlann, that is to say, Scandinavian or Scandinavian occupied territory (in CMT, the Fomoire are actually in what is today Scotland, Balor being situated on the Hebrides, which means that....yes....it is entirely possible to do a How to Train Your Dragon/CMT crossover if you desired. And yes, I have put too much thought into the logistics of that crossover, including the dangers of giving Bres access to a dragon.) The decision to situate the Fomoire on Lochlann was a political move, as a way of highlighting Ireland's political situation at the time it was composed. ("Lochlann" is still the modern name for Norway.)

In other texts, especially later texts, we see Lochlann often associated with far away, exotic, supernatural, and/or dangerous places, in the same way that Greece is often used to indicate someplace far away or exotic. (It makes sense -- how many Irish people living in, say, the 14th-15th century would have imagined traveling to Norway in the time before Aer Lingus?)

You can see this in, for example, the little known Late Middle/Early Modern Irish-ish (the dating is weird on this one) prosymetric text, "Aithed Emere (le Tuir nGlesta mac Rig Lochlann)", where Emer elopes with...Tuir Glesta, son of the King of "Lochlann". (Translated as "Norway" most of the time in descriptions, but I prefer keeping the term "Lochlann", because it's always the question of...is this the Real World Country, Lochlann, or is this the Cool Folklore Lochlann where Zany Adventures Happen, you know? I don't feel like "Norway" captures all of the different possibilities that the word implies.)

Now, since this, according to Thurneysen at least, didn't go back to before the 12th century, it was created well after CMT, well after the Battle of Clontarf and the final assimilation/ousting of the Vikings from Ireland. The Vikings are...chill by now. They aren't an active threat. So we have to ask ourselves: Why is Emer eloping with Tuir Glesta? It could be the result of an earlier tradition, sure, but I think it's more likely that we're not meant to think of Lochlann as "Fomoire land" or "Viking land", but "exotic, far away place for Cú Chulainn to voyage to in order to get his wife back." In Cath Muighe Tuireadh Cunga, there's a figure called "Aengaba of Lochlann", and there's no sign that he's a Fomoire, rather it seems that we're meant to view him as a sort of foreign champion. (It's interesting that in the Early Modern CMT, meanwhile, the Fomoire don't come from Lochlann, but from Africa. White supremacists have obviously gone ham with this but I've had at least one prominent person in the field suggest to me that it could be a means of drawing a Carthage-Rome dichotomy between the TDD and the Fomoire. And, of course, as I love to point out, if the Fomoire come from Africa = the Fomoire are black, then by that logic, Bres, Lugh, Fionn mac Cumhaill, the Dagda, Ogma, Bríg, Lír, Manannán, Emer, Cú Chulainn, Cairbre, Óengus, Bodb Dearg, etc. etc. etc. are all mixed race, which is a change I for one would be happy with but I suspect they would not be. Not that logic matters all that much to that crowd, especially since the only figures to routinely be presented as brown are Balor, Bres, Cethlenn, and the Fir Bolg, funny how that works.) And of course, when I was talking to a local on Tory Island, he said that the old people "confused the English for the Fomorians" (paraphrased) -- I don't believe the old people were confused at all, though, I believe that it only made sense for the Fomoire to become English, since they're always the people Over There, and Over There can be Lochlann, it can be Africa, and it can be England. Balor goes from being a Viking warlord to an English landlord, because why wouldn't he?

NOW, off of my soap box about the racist clusterfuck that is most adaptations of the Fir Bolg/Tuatha Dé/Fomoire rivalry and back to your question, Bruidhean (an) chaorthainn, "Hostel of the Rowan Trees", is about 15th/16th century in date, so we're looking well after the time the Vikings were a threat, so "Lochlann" here is very much Fun Zany Lochlann, not Actual Country Norway.

And we see this in a lot of Fionn Cycle tales, men from Lochlann opposing the Fianna, Fionn courting women in Lochlann and facing a series of trials, men from Lochlann imprisoning the Fianna in bruidhean tales. It's very much a trope, and it has next to nothing to do with the historical location. It's a place Over There, it's a place that has something our heroes need to get, or it's a place that is threatening what they already have. The people who live there are invariable dangerous, often supernatural, and more than a match for our heroes, even though they are, inevitably, overcome, though sometimes at great cost. The Men of Lochlann in these tales and the Fomoire have a lot in common, you could even argue that the Fomoire of CMT are even the Men of Lochlanns' literary great grandfathers, in the sense that it is, at least partially, a 9th century anxiety over Scandinavia that's been fossilized into the folklore up to the present, but they aren't the same, except for the fact that they both often represent the dark side of the supernatural, which the Tuatha Dé can often represent as well. (And indeed, as John Carey's argued, the difference between the TDD and the Fomoire is often minimal.) The Tuatha Dé and the Fomoire in and of themselves appear little in modern folkloric stories, at least....how they appear in the Mythological Cycle (indeed, Óengus is often relegated to being a wizard instead of a member of the TDD in folkloric variants of Tóruigheacht Dhiarmada and Ghráinne.) Manannán survives better than most, as does Bodb Dearg, but the truth is that there was a certain...anxiety about it that you can detect in the folklore. The term "Fomor" develops three meanings from the Early Modern Irish period -- the guys that we know and love, a generic ogre or giant (which is how it's often used now), and a churl or servant, which further complicates things.

Besides Bruíon Chaorthainn, you can also see examples of Zany Folklore Lochlann showing up in Fenian folklore in Soraidh Fhinn go Tír Lochlainn ("Fionn's Wooing in Lochlann"), Laoi an Airghinn Mhóir ("The Lay of Airgheann the Great") (which, besides being very alive in the folklore, also goes back at least as far as Duanaire Finn, which was compiled in the 15th century), Laoi Chath Gabhra ("The Lay of the Battle of Gabhair") (which is interesting for having the son of the king of Lochlann on the Fianna's side for once), Duan na Cloinne ("The Lay of the Children"), Comhrag Fhinn agus Mhanuis ("The Combat Between Fionn and Magnus") (our boy Magnus, son of the King of Lochlann, also appears in Soraidh Fhinn go Tír Lochlainn), Laoidh Maodh-Chabir agus Chamagich ("The Lay of Maodh-Chabir and Camagich") (for SEXY Zany Folkloric Lochlann), An Cú Glas ("The Grey Dog"), which the Fionn Folklore Database actually did a reel about on their Facebook/Instagram if I'm not mistaken, Bratach Fhinn (Fionn’s Banner), and Duan nan Naonar (The Lay of the Nine). I'm *sure* there are other legends out there, these are just the ones I was able to immediately track down.

So, that's covered. Now, who is the King of the World? And the answer is that, like Magnus, he's a recurring antagonist we sometimes see pop up. In Bruíon Chaorthainn, he's the king of Lochlann who tries to invade Ireland. Meanwhile, in Cath Fionntrá, which has a lay form of it in the Book of the Dean of Lismore (a Scottish compilation, incidentally, from the 16th century, showing how bound up all these traditions are from an early date) and, besides that, has Irish manuscript attestations going back to at least the 15th century, the "King of the World" is a full-fledged antagonist named Dáire Donn, who forms an alliance with kings across Europe to invade Ireland. (Here's the older text here, and the info on it here.) We see a sort of sequel to it in the modern Irish tale “The romance of Mis and Dubh Ruis” where Dáire has a daughter, Mis, who becomes a madwoman in the woods after his death and is sexed back to sanity by Dubh Rois. (It is...surprisingly funny, honestly.) Which is in Celtic Heroic Age. But what you can gather by him being King of Lochlann is also that he's...the Guy Over There (Who Wants To Come Here.) Even beyond personalities, that's it. You can compare him to the King of Greece in Duan Gharbh Mhic Stairn ("The Lay of Garbh son of Stairn"). The difference between a king of Greece and a king of Lochlann isn't that great, what matters is that he's Over There and that he's trying to invade us.

The Isle of the Torrent (Inse Tuile) is another one of those otherworldly, supernatural places where Things Are Weird. You can compare it, for early examples, to the islands you see in the Immrama genre, but you can also compare it to the various weird islands you come across in other stories, like in Nighean Righ fo Thuinn ("The Daughter of the King Under the Waves"), which has "Magh an Iongnaidh" (the Plain of Wonder). And obviously, you could tie this into the world of the Otherworld being located beyond the sea (which is a later idea; the early material seems to indicate, firmly, that the Otherworld was *below*, not *beyond*), but I think it just goes from the idea that you need your heroes to travel on a quest to get something -- you can trace it as far back as the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Odyssey, Jason and the Golden Fleece, etc. People like a good adventure yarn. People like to have their heroes go to exotic lands filled with supernatural danger (where things There don't work the way they do Here), they like to face off against dangerous villains and arrive home just in time to save the day, you know? I will note that Goethe's "Der König in Thule" was translated, into Irish, as "Rí Inse Tuile" -- Thule was a magical island in classical times, it was well known to Irish monks as early as the ninth century; it appears in Beatha Bréandain, the Life of St. Brendan, so it's not inconceivable it could have been worked into the Irish tradition, especially since the variant of it that was translated is a literary composition, not necessarily the story 100% as it appears in oral literature. I'd like to explore that possible connection more down the line, but all I can say right now is that it's an interesting coincidence -- my suspicion for it being literary is further increased by the fact that this is not a name you generally see in the oral literature, but I won't go further than that. "Tuile" in Irish does mean "flood" or "flow", so it could just be a strange coincidence, of course, but...it's odd. It's odd.

Anyway, all that, and where are we?

A lot of Irish folklore and Irish lit are dealing with Us VS Them, the idea of the People Over There VS the People Over Here (which makes sense because of...centuries of People Over There sailing over, first the Vikings, then the Normans, then the Tudors, then Cromwell, etc. etc. etc. etc. Not to reduce an entire complex literary tradition that spans multiple continents to a Just So story, and there are a lot of stories that obviously DON'T feature this theme, but I don't think it hurts.) (And Scottish lit, of course, also gets into it, partially due to transmission, partially because of their own history of Guys Over There coming to take things from Guys Over Here, which also got transmitted to Canada via the diaspora.)

Who are the Lochlannaigh? The Guys Over There.

Who are the Fomoire? Also the Guys Over There, but not always overlapping. (Not all Fomoire at all stages of the literature are Lochlannaigh, not all Lochlannaigh are Fomoire.)

Who is Rí an Domhain? The Ruler Over There Who Wants To Come Over Here.

And where is Inse Tuile? Over There, but the name itself is strange.

I hope this makes sense in some way!

[ayesakara]

Why Shizuo & Vorona make all the sense in Durarara

Very long Shizuo/Vorona commentary (with spoilers from anime, manga and light novels) below:

After finishing and falling in love with Durarara!! the anime, I’ve now started reading both the Manga and the light novels. And the more I read them, the more I appreciate how much the idea of Shizuo and Vorona together makes the most sense after the series finale.

But first, let’s go back to season 1 and compare the demon sword Saika's “love” for humanity and the concept of love in general in this story.

In season 1 episode 16 “Mutual Love” of the anime, (which corresponds with Durarara!! Saika Arc in the Manga/Vol 2 Chap 6 “Sword & Stress,” in the Light novels) – in order for the Saika blades to work on its victims, there had to be an element of fear.

Saika considers slashing and possessing humans as the way to propagate and to love humanity.

It is explained (much better in the LN and Manga than the anime) that the blades’ possession worked through the will of the wielder, as well as the victim, since the knives being used were not the original Saika. For the blade to possess, the victim had to feel fear after getting slashed.

So even though we watch Shizuo get slashed several times, aside from the fact that his muscles are very tightly formed (as explained by Shinra in this chapter) and he doesn’t get injured like a normal human, Saika realizes that he also had zero fear of these people. Saika’s will needed the element of fear in its victims to take possession. Since Shizuo has no fear, he cannot be possessed.

This is also used as an analogy for love in this story, especially when it comes to Shizuo.

You need to allow yourself to be vulnerable to the person giving you “love” in order to love them in return. If you don’t “fear” the pain of the blade, as Saika realizes – or in other words… if you don’t let yourself be vulnerable emotionally, you cannot truly love someone. And then that person also cannot love you.

Love needs vulnerability. If you keep your heart closed off, you cannot love.

Shizuo’s greatest fear is his own strength. He thinks of himself as a monster, undeserving of love – has thought this way since he was a kid. When he was a young adolescent – and the Manga images show a young brown-haired Shizuo, so this is prior to him meeting Tom in middle school and dyeing his hair blond – he accidentally (“not of his volition,” the Manga and LN state) got girls who liked him (who could be just friends, since he’s so young here) hurt because of his strength. These incidents made him withdraw from people.

In his heart, Shizuo has always longed for someone to love him. But because he deems himself so dangerous, now as a young adult, he doesn’t think he is allowed to be close to anyone like that.

He feels he would only hurt the person he loves because of his violent nature. So he has closed off his heart.

Enter Vorona. The girl who’s never known or understood love. All she has in the beginning is the goal to test her abilities against the strongest opponents.

And who would she come directly against? The strongest man in Ikebukuro, the peak of human strength.

And she's unlike any girl Shizuo has ever met. She's a fighter, and he's utterly impressed with her abilities.

Vorona wants to defeat him at first because that had always been her aim: to understand human strength; to be strong, and to conquer the strongest. Instead, she finds peace in his presence. Outside of battle and the various conflicts that slam into him from every side, Shizuo is surprisingly very serene. Vorona realizes he seeks peace, too. The same peace that had eluded her all her life. And she’s surprised how much she enjoys the feeling – calls it bliss even. This is the first time that she’s gotten a taste of a life free of violence.

And she’s mournful when her cover is blown because now that Shizuo knows she betrayed him, she feels she’s never gonna get this feeling back. She’s all alone.

It’s heartbreaking but also beautiful when, in the anime, every time she ponders the concept of “love,” and thinks of her loneliness, and of losing the peace she had so enjoyed, the image she sees in her mind is of Shizuo.

There is a moment in the light novels, after Izaya drops the forklift/excavator on Shizuo and Vorona, intending to kill them (or rather, to kill Vorona and to see how Shizuo would react) and Shizuo pushes the falling machinery away with just his shoulder, when Vorona realizes that Shizuo is actually superhuman. She already knew that he was the peak of human strength, but this is the moment when the realization dawns on her that he isn’t just the peak, but actually beyond it. That he’s superhuman strong, and she is awed.

She knows then that her goal to defeat him had been ridiculous.

She also realizes that he’s very conscious of his inhuman strength and that he thinks of himself as monstrous because of this. But she knows he’s not a monster. She’s shocked how reasonable and forgiving he is, how willing to give her a second chance; he offers her his ear, is protective of her even when she’s playing on the wrong side. Deep inside her heart, Vorona has always known he was utterly human, and now she doesn’t want to hurt him or see him get hurt.

That’s why she is so compelled to save him from becoming a murderer, when she stops him from killing Izaya in the end and is ready to kill him for Shizuo. She already is a murderer, a beast as she calls herself, and she doesn’t want Shizuo to become one and be condemned too.

This is what Shizuo knows and feels in his heart when, at the end of the LN, he says that he’s able to act and be like a person (a human, that is) because of her. That she’s the reason why he didn’t turn into a true monster. This is why he’s so grateful to her.

She tells him when she leaves for Russia that her desire is to come back and “speak to him in direct terms (since he offered to listen more than once) … to experience the joy of existing in this world.” With him, she means.

Denis tells him she will likely come back. Simon tells him he already is human. All he needs to do is open his heart to the possibility.

This is where the anime left them. This is why I feel so happy in my heart when I imagine scenarios where Vorona does come back and Shizuo and her do get together. 🤗

[cittielinks]

exiled prince!kdj x war god!yjh

#joongdok idea !! 

Kim Dokja is the last remaining prince who was exiled moments before his kingdom died and Yoo Joonghyuk a war god who was responsible for killing Kim Dokja’s kingdom.

The moment shots were fired, his mother dragged Kim Dokja into the hidden tunnel. Everyone from the kingdom was fighting for their lives. It was no easy feat and they are clearly in a losing battle. 

It was then decided unanimously that Kim Dokja the remaining prince, should run away and should be free from the shackles of the now-ruined kingdom.  

His mother softly touched his cheeks as if to savor her last moment with his beloved son. Tears were silently flowing from their eyes. Neither Kim Dokja nor his mother spoke any words.

His mother then squeezed him tightly then kissing him on the forehead one last time. 

“You should go now, I will be with your father soon.” 

Kim Dokja cried harder. He doesn’t want to go. He wants to be with his family even if it means death.

His mother choked up a laugh and then wiped Kim Dokja’s tears. 

“Really now, you’re this old already. You shouldn’t cry no more, my dearest star.” 

Kim Dokja just hugs his mother tightly as if he doesn’t want to part. He knows that once he lets go, he will never see his mother ever again.

“Please, my dearest. You have to go. I can’t afford to lose you too.” 

Kim Dokja slowly lets go of his hold and then stares at his mother one last time. 

“Mother, I love you always.” He murmured so softly.

“I— We love you always… to the moon and back, my baby.”

His mother sniffed and pushed him inside the tunnel. 

It was the final moment he saw his mother alive. 

It took Kim Dokja three days to be out of the kingdom. He was lucky enough that his parents keep all pieces of information about him inside their palace. It wasn’t hard for him to blend in.

Kim Dokja found a very rural village. A young couple named Hades and Persephone help him settle in.

The couple was so understanding and did not ask him questions. And so Kim Dokja was forced to dwell on his pain and cried his heart out every night.

It took 1 month for the news to travel to the village. 

It was said that the war between the two kingdoms was finished. All the people were killed. It was said that the king and queen were shot with thousands of arrows. The crowned prince was beheaded. No more was the kingdom.

And it was all thanks to Yoo Joonghyuk the War God from the east. 

That night, Kim Dokja mourned for the people from his kingdom. He mourned for his brother who was beheaded ruthlessly, he mourned for his parents whose bodies can never be recovered after being shot by thousands of arrows.

He wanted revenge. He wanted the man who killed his family dead. But deep down he knew he can’t. 

It wasn’t in his nature, ( he could hear his mother telling him so) he was kind ( his brother chuckled softly), Our dokja-yah, our baby shouldn’t use his hands for blood. ( his father smiled.) 

For years and years, he would always look at the stars that twinkled as he mourned for the people he couldn’t save.

It took 3 years for a wounded man to stumbled behind his garden, full of bruises and blood.

He drops his basket and slowly lets the man inside his house. He dressed his wounds and let the man lay down in his bed. He made ( a poor excuse of a) porridge for the man to eat.

Yoo Joonghyuk woke up groggily. He noticed a hand softly touching his forehead and heard mumbles before he passed out once again. 

The next time Yoo Joonghyuk woke up. It was at dawn. Feeling a bit better, he reassesses everything.

Firstly, he was in the middle of a war between the East and the South. It was a winning battle for the East. But the South tropes ambushed them so he was forced to flee and hide until backup arrived. He remembered stumbling behind someone’s garden before passing out.

The owner must've helped him in. 

He frowned and began to look at his surrounding. 

There he noticed a pale thin man sleeping in an awkward position on the sofa. 

Yoo Joonghyuk slowly stood up in front of the man and gazed at him.

He noticed the bags under his eyes, the plump lips as he murmurs incoherent noises, and the way his chest moves up and down very slowly as if he will be taken away by god. 

By any means, Yoo Joonghyuk saw a lot of beauty everywhere. He was the War God, for heaven’s sake!

But the moment the man opened his eyes slowly. He knew there was no one who could ever compare to the man. The man holds so many stars inside his eyes, it’s captivating. He wants to see more. He wants— 

“You should not be standing! Please go back to bed.” He did.

The beautiful man checked his temperature the moment he went back to bed. The man murmured something and forced him to drink a pill. After a minute he seemed to be groggy so he decided to sleep once more.

Kim Dokja was the name of the beautiful man who helped him. Kim Dokja never asked for his name and for Yoo Joonghyuk it was enough, he needed to hide anyway. 

Yoo Joonghyuk was forced to lay in bed for a week before he couldn’t take it anymore and decided to help Kim Dokja in exchange for patching him up.

In the days when he stayed in Kim Dokja’s humble home, he noticed small things about the man. He would notice how his fingers twitched every time he touches something slimy or how he tries to throw away tomatoes every time he cooks with the ingredient.

Yoo Joonghyuk would notice how his eyes light up every time he reads interesting books or how Kim Dokja stares at the stars every night as if he has a lot of baggage on his shoulders. And when he does space out every time, Yoo Joonghyuk’s heart would ache. If he could he would ease his pain.

It didn’t take awhile for the both of them to develop feelings. And for once, Kim Dokja thought maybe he deserved this now. After all the pain and regrets he felt that this is the life he deserves. 

It was Kim Dokja who confessed first after letting the man stay with him for 8 months.

It was under the eyes of the illuminating moon, under the many sparkles of the stars. Kim Dokja confessed. With the help of Han Sooyoung and ysa. He told him how much he means to him. 

Yoo Joonghyuk too confessed his deep attraction to the man. and they kissed. 

The kiss was soft and sweet and it means the whole world for Kim Dokja because now he gets to love again.

It was a year after he confessed when Kim Dokja finally knew his beloved’s name. 

Yoo Joonghyuk, the War God who took many lives and brought honor to the east. 

Yoo Joonghyuk, the man who destroyed his kingdom.

How ironic. Just as he thought he was free from the shackles of the past. It came back biting him hard. Of all people he fell inlove with, it was the man who killed his home. It hurt. It hurts

“Is God laughing at me now? Is this kind of a sick joke? Is this entertaining to you?”

Kim Dokja screamed and cried, he threw everything inside the house. He broke the vase, the tableware even the pictures. 

By the time Yoo Joonghyuk came home after a long preparation for their wedding. Their humble house was in ruins. Yoo Joonghyuk saw Kim Dokja kneeling in the middle of the chaos.

He quickly went to Kim Dokja and softly asked hin if he was okay, if he was hurt and asked him what happened

Kim Dokja never uttered a word. 

Everything was silent. Yoo Joonghyuk was getting restless he tried to hold Kim Dokja’s wrist only to be slapped by Kim Dokja

“You’re Yoo Joonghyuk.” Kim Dokja said in finality. No emotions was detected and for once, Yoo Joonghyuk was scared. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t reply. He was looking at Kim Dokja full of pain and hurt. 

“Heh. You’re the same Yoo Joonghyuk who ruined my kingdom.”

Kim Dokja laughed and laughed as he cried and cried.

What a joke. 

“Did you had fun ruining my life?”  

 ‘no’ 

“Did you plan all of this?” 

‘no’ 

“How does it feels like to kill my family?” 

‘I did not know. I swear I didn’t—‘

“Bet you didn’t even remembered my family’s corpse.” 

“Kim Dokja, let me expl—“ 

“SHUT UP! NO YOU DON’T.” 

“Baby ple—“ 

“Do.Not.Call. Me.That. You have no right.” 

“Dokja please I—“ 

“I don’t want to hear another word from you”

Kim Dokja stood up and walked away from Yoo Joonghyuk, from the house, from everything. Eyes blanked, shoulders shaking.

Yoo Joonghyuk did this. He did this. It was all his fault.

It took no less the 24 hours after their confrontation that Kim Dokja drowned himself. Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t save him in time. 

The village mourned for the lost of another bright star. and for Yoo Joonghyuk, it was his retribution. he will never be forgiven.

[all-the-things-2020]

Family Is More Than Blood

Summary: After the defeat of the First Order, Poe, Finn and Rey are in need of a break. They take on one final mission from Leia and discover some truths about family.

Note: This is a sequel of sorts to “Finding His Way” as characters from that story appear in this one but it is not necessary to read it first (although there are spoilers if you don’t!).

Word Count: 5500+

Rating: PG

Finn was trying to keep it together, but his two closest friends were fighting (again) and he was sick of it. After the Battle of Exegol, things had been wonderful. They were alive, they’d won, the First Order was in shambles … and now he couldn’t get through a single day without having to referee an argument between Poe and Rey.

The problem was, people could not shut up about Kylo Ren. They came to General Dameron asking for reparations for what Supreme Leader Ren had done. Then Poe tried to explain that while yes, the Resistance sympathized with their plight, and yes, the Resistance wanted to do everything to help re-establish peace and prosperity in the Republic, they needed to talk to their senators, because the Resistance had no political power. And then Rey would complain that no one was focusing on the good that Ben (yes, she insisted on calling him Ben Solo) had done in the end and then Poe would roll his eyes, and Finn would have to step in before Rey tried to force choke him.

“I am tired of being stuck in the middle,” Finn told Poe one night as they were getting ready for bed. “You two need to work this thing out.”

“She’s too stubborn,” Poe insisted. Finn just gave him a look.

“Oh, right, she’s the stubborn one.”

Poe shrugged and said, “Is it my fault you have a knack for making friends with strong-willed people?”

“So you admit you’re stubborn, too?”

“Yes, I admit it. I not only admit it, I own it.” He kissed Finn’s nose. “You know it’s one of the reasons you admire me so much, my refusal to back down in the face of impossible odds. Face it, it’s the only reason we beat the First Order.”

Finn laughed. “I thought that was your colossal stupidity.”

“Well, that, too.” Poe kissed him again, but Finn wasn’t going to be distracted so easily.

“You still need to talk this out with Rey,” he said. “I told you, I’m tired of this shit. Don’t make me pick a side, okay?”

Poe sighed. “I’ll try to talk to her tomorrow, but no promises.” He checked his data pad. “We’ve got a briefing at 0600. Let’s continue this in the morning, if that’s okay?”

“Fine by me. Night, babe.”

BB-8 beeped goodnight from its charger in the corner. “I said ‘babe,’ not BB,” Finn said, shaking his head. “Your droid’s almost as annoying as you.”

Poe pulled him in for one more kiss. “You know you love us,” he said, flicking off the light and crawling into bed.

“Yeah,” Finn said as he slid in beside him. “Yeah, I do.”

********************

Rey Skywalker preferred being alone these days. It was ironic, after all those years on her own on Jakku, but she was still mourning the loss of Ben and the only person who could even begin to understand what she was going through was Finn, who was so busy right now that he hated to bother him. They had their daily Force training session, but the rest of the time he was busy co-generaling with Poe, and she certainly couldn’t bring Ben up around Poe.

She had finished running her Jedi training course for the second time that day, but she still wasn’t ready to head back into camp. Too many people were still celebrating the demise of Kylo Ren and the rest of the First Order.

“Hey, got a minute?” She was surprised to see Poe heading her way, and even more surprised to see that Finn was not with him.

“Of course. What’s up?”

“We’ve got another delegation from the Inner Rim coming in this afternoon, and I just wanted to talk to you about … well, about …” Poe was not normally this awkward and she didn’t need the Force to know what he was getting at.

“Did Finn ask you to talk to me?” She crossed her arms.

“Yes,” Poe said. “He did. Look, he’s tired of us bickering …”

“We do not bicker,” she said firmly. “We discuss.”

“Okay, but we discuss very loudly and it makes him uncomfortable.”

Rey felt her face soften. “I know,” she said. She felt bad for Finn, who just wanted everyone to be happy, especially the two most important people in his life. “I just …”

Poe closed his eyes. “I know, I know, you wish people would stop focusing on all the bad stuff he did … but Rey, except for that bit at the end where he saved your life, it was all bad stuff.” He held up his hands to keep her from responding. “I am grateful that he saved you, believe me, I am, but that doesn’t mean he gets a pass for everything else he did.”

“But …”

“No,” Poe went on, his voice already rising. “Just … no.”

“I’m not asking you to forget everything that he did, just to forgive him,” she blurted out.

He shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you? I can’t forgive him! I can’t ever forgive him for what he did! To Luke’s students. To his own father. To Leia. To Finn. To the whole goddamned galaxy. To .. .to me.”

“He redeemed himself,” she insisted. Why couldn’t anyone understand that? He had sacrificed himself, not just to defeat Palapatine but to save her life. He had literally given his life for hers.

“Maybe he did,” Poe said bitterly. “But it isn’t enough. Not for me and not for anyone else.”

“I know he hurt you …”

“Hurt me? He damn near broke me, Rey!” His voice cracked and he turned away. “You know what? I’m done. I’m done arguing with you about this. We are never going to see eye to eye on this and I’m not going to hurt Finn anymore. So I’m going to hold my tongue and I’d advise you to do the same. Because he asked me not to make him pick a side.”

He walked away without looking back at her. “And we both know he’d choose you,” she whispered. She couldn’t imagine her life without her best friend Finn in it, especially now that she’d lost Ben, but she was under no illusion that he’d put their friendship ahead of what he had with Poe.

********************

Poe Dameron was exhausted. Every damn day there was more and more to do, and even with Finn and Rey and Connix and Rose and everybody else around pitching in, he never quite got caught up. How did Leia do this by herself? It didn’t help that the rest of Black Squadron were out flying missions and he hadn’t had a chance to fly in nearly two weeks.

“General?” He looked up to see Connix tossing a data chip onto his desk. “I found this while I was finishing filing away the last of General Organa’s things. It was addressed to you.”

He picked up the chip. “Priority?”

Connix shrugged. “I think it’s a personal message. There were no encryption codes or anything. It just said ‘Give to Poe.’”

He checked his data pad. Twenty minutes until the next meeting. He slid the chip into the data port and braced himself to hear Leia’s voice. When the message was done, he removed the chip and put it in his pocket. This might just be exactly what they needed.

***********************

“A mission? From Leia?” Finn was intrigued but wary. “And just you, me, and Rey are going?”

“Yeah,” Poe said, shoving another bite of food into his mouth. They were on a lunch break between meetings and had maybe another five minutes before they had to get back to work.

Finn sat back. “Are you sure about this? I mean, you two aren’t going to kill each other or anything?”

“Of course not,” Poe scoffed. “I think this is perfect. Half our problem is we’ve been so stressed out we’re getting on each other’s nerves. This will give us a chance to relax and just … be us. Not the Jedi, not the Generals. Just Poe and Finn and Rey.”

It did sound nice, but Finn was still skeptical. “And exactly how are we going to find the time to get away? We barely have time to eat and shower as it is.” The timer dinged on his data pad as if to emphasize his point. They had five minutes to get to the next meeting.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Poe said, grabbing a piece of fruit and stuffing it in his pocket.

**********************

“Important Resistance Business,” Rey said. “You’re just going to walk in and say we’re going to disappear for a week on Important Resistance Business and expect everyone to just say ‘Okay, have fun?’”

“Why not,” said Poe. “Who’s going to argue with us? We’re the Generals.”

She shook her head and looked imploringly at Finn. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I told him it was a stupid idea, too. But how could I say no to that face?”

Poe batted his eyes until Rey collapsed in laughter. “I think that only works on you, Finn. But okay, we’ll give it a shot. What is this secret mission, anyway?”

Poe pulled the data chip out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Here. Finn’s seen it already, so hang onto it when you’re done. We’ll need to put the coordinates into the Falcon’s computer before we leave.”

**********************

Three days later, they boarded the Millenium Falcon, just the three of them and BB-8. Surprisingly, no one had kicked up much fuss when Poe announced that he and Finn and Rey were going away for a few days (although a few people had expressed surprise that Rey was part of the mission, for some reason). Finn was feeling much better about the whole idea now that it was really happening. Poe and Rey hadn’t fought once since the mission came up and he was hoping that they were over the rough patch.

There was one awkward moment when both of them tried to claim the pilot’s seat, but when Finn shot her a look, Rey backed down. Thank you, he mouthed at her. He knew Poe was itching to fly and it would do him a world of good to take the controls on this mission. Rey could fly whenever she wanted, but Poe had too many responsibilities these days.

Once Poe was happily ensconced in the cockpit, Finn motioned for Rey to join him in the main cabin. “Call us if you need anything, flyboy,” he said. Poe just waved a hand vaguely in their direction, “accidentally” making a somewhat rude gesture.

Finn slid into the booth around the holochess table. Rey sat across from him. “Thanks for letting him fly,” he told her. “He needs this.”

“I understand,” she said.

“And … thanks for cooling it with the Ben stuff,” Finn went on cautiously.

She looked down. “Poe made it abundantly clear that he and I are never going to see eye to eye on that issue.” She tried not to sound bitter, but it was hard.

“Hey,” Finn said, taking her hand. “I know it’s not easy for you, but … it’s even harder for him. You’re Force sensitive; even when Kylo — sorry, Ben — messed with your mind, you had some protection. Poe didn’t have that. Doesn’t have that.” He sighed. “He still has nightmares. Like, really bad nightmares. Ones where it takes him a few minutes to realize where he is; that it’s me, not Kylo Ren, beside him. Every time you defend Ben, it makes it worse, I think.”

“I didn’t realize it was so bad,” Rey said, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t tell him I told you,” Finn said. “The great Poe Dameron has an image to protect.”

She huffed. “The great Poe Dameron has an ego the size of a small nebula.”

“Yeah,” Finn chuckled. “Ain’t it great?”

*************************

The Falcon was on autopilot, so there really was no need for anyone to be in the cockpit right now, but Rey settled herself in the pilot’s seat anyway. The boys had gone to bed and she wanted to give them a bit of privacy, even though she knew they had probably fallen asleep right away, given how tired they both looked. She sat cross-legged in the seat and closed her eyes.

“Be with me,” she muttered. “Be with me.”

She was getting better at summoning the Force and the spirits of the Jedi who had come before her, but she had one particular person in mind tonight, one she had yet to contact. She relaxed, breathing deeply and smoothly, letting her mind open and spread out into the galaxy around her. She could feel the bright spark of Finn’s presence, somewhat dimmed by sleep, but still a clear beacon to her Force-sensitive mind. Poe’s presence was blurrier, less noticeable, entwined with Finn’s so closely that she wouldn’t have noticed it if she didn’t know him so well. Other than that, there was nothing else nearby, just a vague impression of the vastness of space and the multitudes of life that teemed within it.

Slowly, she teased apart the threads of the galactic tapestry, seeking the brighter threads that led to people and places strong in the Force. As the ship sailed through the darkness, she followed one thread after another, searching for the one that meant so much to her. “I know you’re out there, Ben,” she whispered. But once again, none of the threads led where she wanted to go, and after several hours, she roused herself from the pilot’s seat and sought her own bunk. She slept soundly, though; she had all the years of her life before her to find him, and she knew it was simply a matter of time.

****************************

Gael 23 was a small moon orbiting a sullen purple gas giant. Five of the moons were inhabited, with Gael 7 designated as the capital of the colony. It was Gael 7 that controlled access to the system, and it was full of bureaucrats.

They docked the Falcon at the spaceport, waiting their turn for processing. “Well, this is fun,” said Poe after they finally got a message indicating that they had moved from number four to number three in the queue … after waiting for an hour and half.

Finn shrugged. Having spent most of his life under the First Order, he was used to bureaucracy, and he knew there was no use fretting about it. They’d get in when they got in.

Rey was fiddling with BB-8’s antenna, which the droid had managed to damage while roaming around the ship, hunting for rogue porgs. Poe put his feet up on the dashboard and eventually fell asleep. He was still catching up on sleep, Finn knew, and he didn’t begrudge him the rest, even though Rey made a face when he started to snore lightly.

Finally, after three and a half hours, the comm pinged. “You have moved to the first position in the processing queue. Stand by for further instructions.”

Poe snapped to attention and Rey put away her tools. Finn stretched his arms and got ready to go.

They were instructed to leave the ship and proceed to a counter where they were each given a set of forms to fill out. By hand. On paper. They were then directed to take the forms to another counter where the information would be entered into the computer system before they could move on to the actual customs office.

Finn hated paperwork. The First Order had been full of it, but at least it had been easy enough to fill out, since most of the time all he had to do was input his designation and the rest was automatically filled out for him. The Resistance had paperwork, too, but Connix and her staff pre-filled most of it and just passed it on to the Generals for signatures. Gael 7 paperwork was in a class of its own.

“I don’t know half of the information they’re asking for,” he muttered to Rey.

“Neither do I,” she replied.

“Just fill in what you can and leave the rest blank,” Poe suggested. “If they really need to know, they’ll ask for clarification; if it’s not important, who cares?”

So Finn and Rey answered as best they could (Finn was pleased to note that Poe had left quite a few blank spots on his own forms) and they passed the sheaf of papers to the clerk at the second counter.

She was dispassionate and incredibly slow as she perused each page and began inputting the information into her computer terminal. Every time she came to a blank slot, she made a little sigh that implied that only uncultured barbarians didn’t know all the minutiae that Gael 7 found so important. Still, she had no problems until she came to Finn’s paperwork.

“This is incomplete,” she said, shoving it back at him.

“No more incomplete than hers,” he said, pointing at Rey.

The clerk tapped imperiously at a blank line at the very top of the page. “No family name.” She shook her head. “We cannot process paperwork without a full, proper name. Our system will not accept single names. Please provide your family name.”

Rey shrugged at him. She’d started using the Skywalker name after her visit to Tatooine, but Finn still went by a single name.

“I … don’t have one,” he admitted. “I don’t know who my family is … was … whatever.”

The clerk pursed her lips. “I cannot process paperwork without a complete name,” she insisted.

“He. Doesn’t. Have. One,” Poe told the clerk, but she was not impressed. “I am sorry,” she said, although she clearly was not sorry in the least. “I cannot proceed with an incomplete form.”

They were at an impasse. The clerk sat behind her counter, clearly ready to wait as long as it took for Finn to miraculously develop a last name.

Rey rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, just put Dameron,” she said. She elbowed him in the ribs. “Everyone knows it’s going to be Dameron eventually anyway.”

Finn was confused. Poe was blushing. Rey looked smug. “Wait … what?” Finn managed to say.

Rey shook her head, took the form from the clerk and wrote “DAMERON” in the space after “FINN,” then handed it back to the woman, who happily began inputting Finn’s information into her computer.

“I kind of wanted to take him home to meet my dad first,” Poe said to Rey. She smiled.

“I still don’t get it,” Finn said. “What am I missing?”

Poe pulled him aside, squeezing his hands. “You really are spectacularly naive sometimes,” he said with a gentle smile. He looked into Finn’s eyes and suddenly Finn knew this was important. “It’s customary to introduce someone to your family before you ask them to join it,” Poe said softly.

It took a second, but then it clicked. “Oh!”

Poe reached under the collar of his shirt, pulling out the chain that always hung around his neck, with his mother’s wedding ring dangling from it. He unfastened the clasp and held it out to Finn. “I’d hoped to do this somewhere more romantic — and maybe a little more private — but what do you say? Want to make it official?”

“Yes,” Finn said firmly. “Definitely yes.” Poe fastened the chain around his neck and then kissed him.

Rey cleared her throat rather pointedly after a long moment. “Um, guys, I’m really happy for you and all, but we need to move on to the next counter.”

***********************

They finally landed on Gael 23 and walked the short distance to the town where the Djarin family lived. Rey led the way, while Finn and Poe trailed behind her, holding hands in a decidedly un-general-like manner. She could see why the Djarins had come to this planet, if they were hiding from the First Order: aside from the bureaucratic ordeal on Gael 7, they’d had to dodge several rings of debris and a severe electromagnetic field to reach the surface of Gael 23. Anyone coming to this town really had to want to get there.

When they reached the house, Rey deferred to Poe to take the lead. Leia had left the mission to him, after all.

The door was answered by a man who looked to be in his early thirties, with dark hair and eyes. “Mr. Djarin?” Poe asked. The man looked wary.

“Yes,” he said carefully.

“General Poe Dameron of the Resistance,” Poe said, holding out his hand. “I’m here on behalf of General Organa.”

The man relaxed a bit. “Oh, you’re here to see my parents,” he said. “Please, come in.”

He opened the door and ushered them in, pausing only to look askance at BB-8. “Um, sorry, no droids. My dad’s got a thing about droids.”

BB beeped indignantly, but Poe shushed him with a hand motion. “Of course,” he said. “BB, wait out here, buddy.”

They stepped inside a modest, but very welcoming home. The door opened directly into a large general living area filled with comfortable furniture and a scattering of toys. “It’s okay,” Djarin called out as they walked into the room. “They’re from the Resistance.”

Three kids popped out from various doorways, followed by a woman about the same age as Djarin. “Should I get Grandpa and Grandma?” The oldest child asked, a boy about eleven years old.

“Yes, and your uncle,” Djarin said. “And call Aunt Mirdala. She might want to be here.”

************

Poe was used to having an audience; after all, when you are a general, giving speeches to the troops is part of the job. But this was an unusual audience. Five adults, four kids and … one very small green person who was vaguely familiar.

He cleared his throat, not quite sure where to begin. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re here. I’m General Poe Dameron, this is General Finn Dameron, and our friend Rey Skywalker. We’re here on behalf of General Leia Organa, who unfortunately is no longer with us.”

The man who had answered the door quickly introduced everyone. “I’m Cabur Djarin, this is my wife Talia, our children Mica, Bryn, and Danna, my sister Mirdala, her son Ronal, my parents, Din and Mariana … and my brother, Ad’ika.” He indicated the alien child, who was tucked between Din and Mariana.

Din stood up and held out his hand to Poe. “Welcome,” he said. He was probably about the same age as Poe’s own father, early to mid 60’s, with a strong grip and a charming smile. “You’re here about Ad’ika, of course.” The smile wavered a bit.

“Yes,” Poe went on. “And no. I mean … yes, we’re here because of him, but no, we aren’t here to take him, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Everyone exchanged a look of relief and the level of tension in the room dropped sharply. Mariana jumped up and crossed the room to take Rey’s hand. “Your name is Skywalker,” she said. “Are you Luke’s daughter?”

Rey looked taken aback. “No, no relation, actually, but … he started my training. And now that he’s gone, it looks like I’ll be the one who’ll be training your … Ad’ika. Eventually.”

Finn rescued her. “Things are a bit of a mess right now, but Rey is trying to figure things out. And she’s training me, so by the time your son is ready, hopefully between the two of us, we’ll know what we’re doing.”

“Leia left instructions for us to let you know that the threat from the First Order has been eliminated,” Poe continued. “You don’t have to hide anymore. Palapatine, Kylo Ren … they’re both dead. So are Leia, and Luke, and a lot of other people.” He sighed. “Look, we just want you to know that you’re safe, and when the time comes, Rey and Finn — or one of their students — will be there for Ad’ika. Leia explained that his species ages much more slowly than our own, and it may be years before he’s ready.”

Mariana patted his arm. “Welcome to the clan,” she said.

“Clan?”

She pointed to a shiny piece of armor plate on a shelf against the wall. It was emblazoned with a stylized mudhorn skull, and propped next to it was a beautiful Mandalorian helmet.

“Clan Mudhorn,” said Mirdala, proudly. “Dad used to be a Mandalorian.”

Suddenly, it all clicked. No wonder the little green guy seemed familiar. Poe looked between Din and Mariana and the beskar on the shelf. “Ever get that X-wing?” Din asked.

“Uh, yeah, actually, I did,” he stammered. “That was you?”

Finn stepped in. “What’s going on?”

“I met them when I was a kid,” Poe said. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “They met my mom.” Finn took his hand and squeezed it tight. Poe opened his eyes. “She .. she died just a few months after that,” he went on quietly.

“I’m sorry,” said Mariana. She wrapped her arms around him and it felt good to sink into a motherly embrace again. “She was a lovely woman. And I’m sure she’d be proud of you.”

He sniffed back tears. “Yeah, I know she is.”

After a moment of silence, Mariana released him from her embrace. “Well, now that we’re all family, let’s sit. Eat. Enjoy ourselves!”

Cabur and Talia disappeared to the kitchen to start preparing food, while Mirdala offered to make drinks.

“I think I like this family,” Finn said in Poe’s ear. Poe couldn’t agree more.

**************************

Finn sank back on the couch next to Mariana. Rey was still eating, and Poe was on the floor with the kids playing with some toy spaceships, reenacting the battle of Exegol.

“So,” Finn said quietly. “Tell me about Poe’s mom.”

Mariana reminded him a bit of Leia, but she wasn’t intimidating in the least. She bumped her shoulder against his and said, “I only met her briefly, but I really liked her. She seemed like the kind of person you could count on. I think we could have been friends.”

Finn nodded. “I wish I could have met her,” he said. “He doesn’t talk about her much, but I know he misses her. A lot.” He fingered the chain around his neck. He was still a bit overwhelmed that Poe had given it to him.

Mariana patted his arm. “We’ve all lost so many people; it’s important to cherish the time you have with the ones you’ve still got.” She smiled at him. “You’re young, you’ve got your whole lives ahead of you. When I was your age, I was a slave. My family had been killed by the Empire, and if anyone had told me then that I’d end up happily married, surrounded by grandkids, I’d have thought they were crazy.”

“A couple of years ago, I was a First Order stormtrooper,” Finn confessed. “So I understand.” He looked at Rey and Poe. “If anyone had told me I’d have a friend, let alone a family, I’d have laughed at them.”

“I noticed you two have the same last name,” she said, nodding at Poe.

Finn felt a blush spread over his face. “Well, not officially, not yet, but they wouldn’t let me past customs without a last name, so Rey suggested I just start using it now.”

“Send us an invitation to the wedding, okay?”

“Definitely.” Yes, Finn really did like this family.

*************************

Yavin 4 was a beautiful planet. Rey always appreciated planets that had vegetation. After growing up on Jakku, she still found herself in awe of greenery. After a couple of days with the Djarin family, Poe had suggested they detour to Yavin before heading back to base.

“You can drop me off back at base first,” she’d insisted. “You don’t need me tagging along while you introduce Finn to your dad.”

“No, I want you to meet him, too. And there’s another reason I think you should come, but it’s a surprise.”

Now they were approaching the Dameron farm as the sun began to set. The transport skimmer dropped them off at the gate and before the droid had even started the engine back up, the front door flew open and Kes Dameron came running out.

“Poe!”

“Dad!”

The two men embraced, and Rey felt a tear come to her eyes. She barely remembered this, the love of a parent and a child, but there were echos in her memory. She was glad that at least one of her friends still had a parent around.

“Dad,” Poe said. “This … this is Finn.”

Kes didn’t hesitate to crush Finn in an embrace as well. “Welcome to the family, Finn.”

“Umm …” Finn muttered, clearly overwhelmed.

“And this is Rey,” Poe went on.

Kes let Finn go and pulled her in for a hug. This one wasn’t as exuberant, but Rey could see where Poe got his penchant for excellent hugs. It seemed that neither of the Dameron men held back when it came to expressing their emotions.

“Welcome, welcome,” Kes said as he released her. “Come on inside, before the bugs start biting.”

The house was just as comfortable as the Djarin home, but felt like it had been lonely. Kes showed them to their rooms so they could stow their bags, and then they gathered in the kitchen for the most delicious meal Rey had ever had.

“If Poe cooks half as well as his father,” she whispered to Finn, “you guys can expect me over for dinner every night.”

“Deal,” Finn replied.

After the meal, Kes suggested they retire to the screened in back porch for drinks, but Poe had another idea.

“I’m going to show Rey the tree first,” he said.

“You really want to leave me alone with your boyfriend?” Kes teased.

“Fiancé,” Poe corrected. “And yeah, I don’t think you’re going to scare him off.” He held out his hand to Rey and led her outside.

“A tree?” She asked. “Really?”

“I told you I had a surprise for you,” he said. “Come on.”

They walked across the yard and through a small gate in the back fence. The path dropped down along the slope of the low hill the house was built on. Near the bottom, they stepped between two flowering shrubs and entered a clearing. In the center of it was a large tree that practically shimmered in the gloom. Rey could feel the tree and she gasped with delight.

“It’s a Force Tree,” Poe said. “Luke Skywalker gave it to my mom when it was a sapling. It’s been growing here practically my whole life. I thought you’d like to see it … and we can take a cutting before we leave. If you and Finn are going to revive the legacy of the Jedi, I think you’re going to need a bit of help.”

Rey wrapped her arms around her friend. “Thank you, Poe,” she said. This time the tears flowed freely down her face. “It’s … it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re welcome,” Poe said, kissing her cheek. “I know I get on your nerves sometimes, and there’s the whole Kylo Ren thing, but … you’re part of the family, too. I’ve known for a while that you and Finn are kind of a package deal.”

“Can I stay out here?” She asked. “You guys won’t mind?”

“Stay out as long as you like,” he said. “You know the way back to the house. We’ll leave the back door unlocked for you.” He hugged her again. “I’d better go rescue Finn from my dad’s interrogation or he might decide to give me the ring back.”

“That will never happen, and you know it,” she teased. “If anyone in the galaxy was destined to be together, it’s you and Finn. Now, go.”

Poe left and she walked forward until she stood under the tree. There was no breeze, but the leaves rustled lightly as she approached. With each step, she felt the Force flow through her more strongly. When she reached the trunk, she laid her hand against the smooth bark and closed her eyes.

“Be with me,” she whispered.

The tree seemed to sway a little, and she gasped. When she opened her eyes, the clearing was glowing with the ethereal blue light that always accompanied a visit from a Force ghost. She caught glimpses of Luke, Leia, and the other Jedi who had helped her defeat Palpatine, but there was one figure that stood out clearly. He was tall, dark-haired, and his face lit up with a smile that she’d only seen once before.

“Ben,” she said. “I finally found you.”

His embrace wasn’t as substantial as the ones she’d gotten from Kes and Poe Dameron earlier, but she didn’t care. Leaves fluttered down from the tree, catching in their hair, as their lips met for the second time. The Force bond between them strengthened and she knew she would have no trouble reaching him now.

“Tell Dameron I’m sorry for everything I did to him,” Ben whispered in her ear.

“I will,” she said. “Every day, until he finally forgives you.”

Ben laughed. “I hope you’re planning to live a long time, then,” he said. “That could take a while.”

“The war’s over,” she said. “We have all the time we need.”

[snow-system-wol]

Part II -- stories at the end(?) of the Tale of the Crystal Exarch.

Ao3

S'ria had wanted to say it before, days prior. G'raha, this is killing you. Perhaps it would've been a bit hasty to have said it back then, though.

But now? The Tower was truly killing him now. The only odd sort of relief, awful as it was, was that G'raha could no longer pretend like it wasn't painful – not with S'ria seeing the process of the crystal spreading. The way he gasped and curled in on himself, and the disturbing sounds of cracking that accompanied the changes – it was difficult to witness. S'ria wished he could do anything to help make it hurt less. 

Realizing why it's progressing so rapidly does nothing to improve his mood, but it does at least give S'ria a clear goal.

It was so callous, Elidibus burning up what remained of G'raha while desperately trying to kill S'ria – and he likely did not even know (much less care) about the effect of his excessive summonings. S'ria felt a bit sick thinking about just how many times he'd seen one of those damnable summon circles while he fled to Lakeland.

There was a bit of guilt in S'ria's heart over that, too. Nothing major – he wanted to live – but he couldn't help but think about how Elidibus would likely stop calling forth more heroes if he successfully killed S'ria already.

If nothing else, it was a reason to hurry, to go find Elidibus and end this as quickly as possible.

G'raha seemed a bit less than steady on his feet, but S'ria knew it was futile to try to stop him from coming along. Somehow, he was glad for the company, even if it meant watching the Exarch's steps falter in pain when the crystal claimed another ilm of flesh. At least, this way, he knew exactly how bad it was getting.

 ----------

S'ria dropped down by G'raha so hastily that he could feel his knees protest heavily at the impact, especially with his body still freshly injured from battle. G'raha lifted his head with a drawn expression – yet still smiling.

“I concede, I may have overexerted myself.”

May? May?! S'ria was at a loss for words, too concerned and tired to gripe at his making light of the situation. G'raha, agonizingly slow and with an audible crackling, managed to at least sit up. S'ria wanted to do something – support his body, carefully hold his hand – anything that might help or bring comfort… but he was terrified to touch G'raha at all, afraid of hurting him like this.

G'raha was still smiling at him, looking quite satisfied with himself – he deserved to feel that way, after destroying Elidibus, but it only made S'ria's chest feel tighter. G'raha said then, “we won, my friend”, and the slight wobble in his voice confirmed S'ria's understanding that what was happening to G'raha could not be undone. So when G'raha brought back up that he'd mentioned wanting to ask a favor before, S'ria listened with complete focus.

“So I hope you'll forgive me this moment of selfishness. And… while I wouldn't want you to feel obliged…”

G'raha trailed off, fixing his gaze to the side of S'ria's head. He opened and closed his mouth in hesitation, and S'ria endured the wait – he doubted it was anything actually selfish, knowing G'raha, but the fact that he seemed to think it would be meant letting him get to it himself.

This time, when G'raha opened his mouth again, words came out.

“Promise you'll take me on your next adventure. A journey. Together. That's all I ask.”

S'ria blinked him, both in reaction to how simple of a request it was for G'raha to be so worried about and to try to fight back the tears that threatened to spill.

“You could've asked me earlier!” S'ria's voice cracked in the middle of it, sounding more pitiful and desperate than anything else. That perfectly reflected how he felt though – mourning how G'raha had waited until it was far too late, too late for anything, to even ask for the company and comfort he wanted. They were friends, weren't they? Why didn't he ask?

S'ria remembered then, the spirit vessel he was still absentmindedly holding. He checked it immediately as he recalled the sound of it clattering on hard stone – completely intact, looking undamaged. Right, there was still hope, tenuous as it was. S'ria held it pleadingly towards G'raha.

“Is it still…?”

G'raha smiled at him. “Yes, there remains only one last step.”

It was with a painful amount of finality that S'ria helped G'raha to his feet and followed him to his chosen resting place. G'raha was barely even still breathing, and time was truly up, but there still remained a moment for G'raha to lay a hand over the spirit vessel, cool crystalline fingers barely brushing against S'ria's hand, and the sudden vibrant glow was hopefully a sign that it worked.

Gods, it better have worked. He deserved better than to have died before even letting himself live.

For now, S'ria knelt in front of a lifeless statue, clutching the vessel to his chest. 

The others arrived soon after, but they hung back long enough for S'ria to dry his eyes and try to look half respectable.

He at least felt hopeful, forcing himself to believe the best, as they descended the Tower. Still holding the vessel securely against his body, such a terrifyingly small and vulnerable way for a soul to exist, there was only one thought repeatedly running through S'ria's mind. I will keep you safe.

 ----------

S'ria finished the rest of the way to the entrance of the Tower at a near sprint, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited to see if the door would accept G'raha's crystallized blood as legitimate enough for entry. His body flooded with relief upon seeing the blue glyphs begin to react, but he did not truly exhale until the doors began to crack open. S'ria was inside the Tower the moment the gap was wide enough for him to slip through.

A part of him had still worried it wouldn't be enough to let him in. 

S'ria had so many worries, actually, about whether any of this would work and what would happen when he found G'raha – but, even though he desperately wanted to return immediately, that last trip around the world the Exarch saved was the right thing to do. 

And now, with everyone else returned and awake, it was time.

S'ria wished he could've had time to ask G'raha where to find him. He'd asked for any insights with the remaining members of NOAH, but had received relatively few helpful suggestions. Up to the upper spires did not feel right, it felt like one would sleep somewhere buried deep – on nothing but a hunch, S'ria found the familiar Ocular and headed further inward from there, seeking out the heart of the Tower.

It was easier once he was nearby, the vessel in his hand nearly humming at the proximity to its shared blood nearby. If it hadn't been so long, perhaps he could've followed the rest of G'raha's path by scent alone – but anything had long since dissipated.

It took longer than he would've liked, but he did eventually find G'raha. It was a relatively small and unassuming room, aside from the high table in the center, holding a single body. 

S'ria immediately ran to him. He looked… well, he was breathing and had a heartbeat, even if both were very slow.

Placing the spirit vessel next to him made it glow blindingly bright for a moment, and then – G'raha's eyebrows were drawn together where his face had previously been slack, hopefully not from an internal struggle with his own soul, but he did not seem to be stirring. Panic gripped S'ria's heart for a moment before he remembered the true reason G'raha still slept – the same reason he had slept these last few years.

S'ria looked down at the…table? Odd dais of sorts? that G'raha laid upon. Much like the rest of the Tower, it was etched with strange branching lines through which a blue light flowed through – like blood through veins, but utterly inscrutable to S'ria.

He could tell that they seemed to be following the shape of a human body to some extent, forming an elaborate halo of circles under G'raha's head and branching out under his body, but anything more than that was…beyond him. Further investigation yielded a series of wires at the edges of the table, ending in ornate metal caps that somehow stayed in place on G'raha's wrists – for what function, he could not say. The table hummed, and S'ria was afraid to pull at anything, lest he somehow kill G'raha.

There, at one end of the table – the glyphs formed the loose shape of a handprint. S'ria picked up the now dull soul vessel and cautiously pressed his palm onto the table. Immediately, the lines on the table went dark in a quick spread from where he'd put his hand down. S'ria barely had time to fear before G'raha started to slowly stir.

He sighed in relief and went about detaching G'raha from the machine – thankfully, the caps at the ends of the wires only seemed to be loosely adhered to his skin, nothing worse than that. No more than slightly irritated skin left behind. S'ria gently inspected the marks, but nothing about them looked concerning.

By this point, G'raha's eyes were starting to blearily crack open and S'ria could've nearly cried.

Once awake, he immediately tried to sit up, to absolutely no success. S'ria put an arm behind his shoulders and helped him upright, fumbling a potion out of his bag. They'd all expected he'd be more than a bit weak after waking, even if the Tower was taking care of him. Even as groggy as G'raha was, when S'ria brought the vial to his lips, he drank with no complaint or concern.

G'raha's eyes finally seemed to focus on S'ria, and he felt a new bolt of fear that he hadn't even considered. What if… the Exarch's memories could simply be lost? S'ria had liked the G'raha Tia he met years ago, but that wasn't the man he'd gotten to know since.

S'ria imagined, if he had forgotten, G'raha's first reaction would likely be confusion as to how and why he was so soon awakened. Instead, he simply smiled at S'ria – despite clear physical discomfort, looking more peaceful than S'ria thought he'd ever seen the Exarch.

“It's… it's you, isn't it?”

G'raha opened his mouth, only managing a hoarse sound, and then simply nodded instead. If G'raha's body wasn't so unhappy and if S'ria had a better sense of both of their boundaries, S'ria would've hugged him. As things were, he instead took simple comfort in continuing to support G'raha's back, the feeling of a living body against his arm a reassuring reminder that everyone made it home.

Everyone made it home.

G'raha had never gotten the chance to see the inside of the Rising Stones before. S'ria was sure he'd love it, though – and, hopefully, would love the idea of staying.

[the-stray-liger]

I didn't think I could genuinely feel so bad for Elan 5, but this episode just kicked me in the gut. Dude found a kindred spirit in Norea, and any notion they could go on the run and be free together was cruelly shot down, both metaphorically, and then quite literally when one of Cathedra's pilots sniped her Gundam's cockpit.

Suletta bonding with Petra, the pair of them working so hard to help evacuate Asticassia, and then Suletta seeing Petra being crushed by rubble... our girl is NOT okay.

THEN WE HAVE LAUDA. He still doesn't know what the fuck is up with the Schwarzette, and not only does he hear Shaddiq talk about how Guel was the one to kill their father, and Guel indirectly confirming that fact, and THEN being informed about what happened to Petra. There is so much goddamn pain in this episode holy shit.

I honestly have liked El5n for a while now. As douchey as he is he is literally the same was El4n-a tool that was modified and twisted for a purpose and could be discarded at any time. And he was so afraid to die and so desperate, and that's why he found a twin soul in Norea who was also another child who was only a tool kept around for the purpose of piloting a gundam until she died and was terrified of dying. I knew Norea's death was coming for a while, but I never expected it to be such a heartbreaking moment in which we also saw El5n say his first honest words from the heart ever. Him telling Norea was the landscapes in her sketchbook made me tear up. He understood her in a way he'd never tried to understand anyone else. A spacian who understood an earthian. And it was all in vain because Norea was killed before he could even answer the only question Norea had for him-what his real name was. I'm absolutely destroyed

Suletta bonding with Petra was such a sweet moment that illustrates the delightful complexity of gwitch characters-bullies who are more than that and who can actually bond with main characters and show kindness and hope. And then she died. Without being able to see Lauda. After asking Suletta what she was looking forward to do after she survived. Ouchie. I'd really come to appreciate Petra because of how much she cared for the Jeturk siblings and this was really painful. And Suletta who apparently isn't traumatized enough gets to destroy her own hands trying to rescue people out of the rubble. Because what else can she do now that her entire world is broken besides trying to help others.

(Side note: Secelia showing again that beyond being a bitch she's willing to collaborate with the earth house by lending Chuchu an ms. Perfect. And Chuchu and Felsi getting together to fight the Gundvolvas, outstanding, marvelous, showstopping, etc etc etc. And the most important part for me was that they managed to save the animals. Tico is okay y'all)

I am SO CONCERNED FOR LAUDA. My man hasn't known a moment of peace since his brother lost that duel to Suletta in s1. His brother disappeared, his dad was killed, he had to control the sinking ship that was the company without even having time to mourn his father and now THIS. He finds out his brother killed his father from Shaddiq in the middle of a terrifying battle. Literally what is gonna happen why do the writers keep torturing these boys. I'm so stressed out. At least Guel managed to defeat Shaddiq but I wonder when will Guel actually win a fight without getting into more trouble

Overall an incredible episode that crippled me emotionally and left me unable to continue with my html homework 20/10

[circe007]

(English & French)

Thank you so much, Mr Matt Schimkovitz & @letthefairyinyoufly

An ode to the strongest element of The Rings Of Power, Adar by Joseph Mawle.

..... But almost everyone agreed on one thing: Joseph Mawle's performance as Orc leader Adar was something special.

A good villain can turn the dial on any story, but Mawle's Adar has seemingly unlocked the entire series, revealing the complexity and nuance beneath the franchise's spectacle.

From his first appearance in episode three, "Adar", Mawle brought real menace and mystery to the series, leading the audience to the surprise climax of the season: the eruption of Mount Doom. Sadly, Joseph Mawle will not see his orc children free. The role was recast with Sam Hazeldine from Peaky Blinders, and what a shame.

While a redesign isn't always disastrous, fans mourn Mawle's departure with good reason. His Adar came fully formed as if we knew his character's story the second he appeared on screen.

As sensitive as it is sinister, Mawle's Adar was the key to the series' most exciting and necessary reckoning, challenging the assumption that Orcs are inherently evil. If Galadriel's (Morfydd Clark) opening lines this season, "Nothing is born wrong," are true, then Adar complicates his belief in the thesis.

Adar has arrived in a cloud of mystery, capturing and interrogating Arondir (Ismael Cruz Córdova) in the trenches of the Southlands. The Uruk introduced a different kind of character for the show.

Even more than Galadriel, Adar has been on the case for a long time. Among the Elves captured by Morgoth in the First Age, Adar was one of the Dark Lord's first genetic experiments. But unlike Elves, who barely notice the passage of time, Mawle exhibits a weariness. Indifferent to Galadriel's plans, he simply lets the work go on.

Mawle gives us a taste of his power and pain throughout the season. A scene from episode five, "Partings", offers a poetic and unsettling explanation of the Orcs' relationship with the sun, providing audiences with a new spin on Middle-earth: Sympathy for the Orcs.

As Mawle stands in the beams of light crossing the forest, he asks a nearby Orc wrapped in rags to stretch out his arm and allow the rays of the sun to burn the Orc's skin. “I wish you could feel it like I do,” Adar says of the sun. "Soon it will be gone, the part of me that also knew its warmth."

Mawle's combination of gentleness and simmering rage gives audiences reason to sympathize with the minions who, until now, have represented evil incarnate.

Mawle's most notable scene was also the highlight of the season. In the thrilling final third of episode six, "Udún", Galadriel captures Adar, believing him to be a prime suspect in his season-long investigation into the identity of Sauron. But his performance goes even better, throwing into the fire all the simplified notions that Orcs are bad and Elves are good. Adar challenges the public's understanding of the battle lines, confronting Galadriel with the truth: he's not the only elf to touch the darkness.

His patience in the scene, his silence, raise the tension. Indifferent to Galadriel, Adar bides his time until his plan can begin. When Galadriel calls her a "Moriodor", or one of the first orcs, he corrects her. “Uruk,” Adar replies. "We prefer 'Uruk'." When Galadriel mentions Sauron, he sneers. When she offers to bring the "prisoners to the sun", he wakes up. Mawle's explanation of Sauron's intentions to "heal the world" and create something "not of flesh but of flesh" shows the actor's gifts.

The subdued performance evokes an ancient pain and historical depth that fuels the magic of Tolkien's creation. And Adar cannot be separated by his story. He wears it on his face, he lingers on his trembling voice, and it drips with every move he makes. Mawle did something all the prophecies struggled to do; he made the power of the invisible world tangible and dangerous simply by discussing it with conviction.

Joseph Mawle delivered a performance with a gravitational pull. For all the mysteries and twists of Rings Of Power, none has matched its steady rise to power. His nuanced and sensitive portrayal of the oldest living Orc has set the bar high for the rest of the series, and Amazon will have to conjure up the power of the unseen world to make us forget about him anytime soon.

Français

Une ode sur Adar, et le jeu de Joseph Mawle, que j'aurais aimé être capable d'écrire aussi bien.La plus belle et la plus complète selon moi.

Une ode à l'élément le plus fort de The Rings Of Power, Adar de Joseph Mawle.

....Mais presque tout le monde était d'accord sur une chose : la performance de Joseph Mawle en tant que chef Orc Adar était quelque chose de spécial.

Un bon méchant peut tourner le cadran sur n'importe quelle histoire, mais Mawle's Adar a apparemment déverrouillé toute la série, révélant la complexité et les nuances sous le spectacle de la franchise. Dès sa première apparition dans l' épisode trois, "Adar", Mawle a apporté une véritable menace et un véritable mystère à la série, entraînant le public vers l'apogée surprise de la saison : l'éruption du mont Doom. Malheureusement, Joseph Mawle ne verra pas ses enfants orques libres. Le rôle a été recasté avec Sam Hazeldine de Peaky Blinders , et quel dommage.

Bien qu'une refonte ne soit pas toujours désastreuse, les fans pleurent le départ de Mawle avec raison. Son Adar est venu complètement formé comme si nous connaissions l'histoire de son personnage à la seconde où il est apparu à l'écran. Aussi sensible que sinistre, Adar de Mawle était la clé du calcul le plus excitant et le plus nécessaire de la série, remettant en question l'hypothèse selon laquelle les Orcs sont intrinsèquement mauvais. Si les premières lignes de Galadriel (Morfydd Clark) cette saison, "Rien ne naît mal", sont vraies, alors Adar complique sa croyance en la thèse.

Adar est arrivé dans un nuage de mystère, capturant et interrogeant Arondir (Ismael Cruz Córdova) dans les tranchées des Southlands. L'Uruk a présenté un type de personnage différent pour le spectacle. Plus encore que Galadriel, Adar est sur l'affaire depuis longtemps. Parmi les Elfes capturés par Morgoth au Premier Âge, Adar fut l'une des premières expériences génétiques du Seigneur des Ténèbres. Mais contrairement aux Elfes, qui remarquent à peine le passage du temps, Mawle présente une lassitude. Indifférent aux plans de Galadriel, il laisse simplement le travail se poursuivre.

Mawle nous donne un avant-goût de sa puissance et de sa douleur tout au long de la saison. Une scène de l' épisode cinq, "Partings", offre une explication poétique et troublante de la relation des Orcs avec le soleil, offrant au public une nouvelle tournure pour la Terre du Milieu : Sympathy for the Orcs. Alors que Mawle se tient dans les faisceaux de lumière traversant la forêt, il demande à un Orc voisin enveloppé de haillons de tendre son bras et de permettre aux rayons du soleil de brûler la peau de l'Orc. "J'aimerais que vous puissiez le ressentir comme moi", dit Adar à propos du soleil. "Bientôt, ce sera parti, la partie de moi qui connaissait aussi sa chaleur." 

La combinaison de douceur et de rage frémissante de Mawle donne au public une raison de sympathiser avec les sbires qui, jusqu'à présent, ont représenté le mal incarné.

La scène la plus remarquable de Mawle a également été le point culminant de la saison. Dans le dernier tiers palpitant de l' épisode six, "Udún", Galadriel capture Adar, le croyant être un suspect principal dans son enquête d'une saison sur l'identité de Sauron. Mais sa performance va encore mieux, jetant dans le feu toutes les notions simplifiées selon lesquelles les Orcs sont mauvais et les Elfes sont bons. Adar défie la compréhension du public des lignes de bataille, confrontant Galadriel à la vérité : il n'est pas le seul elfe à toucher les ténèbres.

Sa patience dans la scène, son silence, font monter la tension. Indifférent à Galadriel, Adar attend son heure jusqu'à ce que son plan puisse commencer. Lorsque Galadriel l'appelle un « Moriondor », ou l'un des premiers orcs, il la corrige. « Uruk », répond Adar. "Nous préférons 'Uruk'." Lorsque Galadriel mentionne Sauron, il ricane. Lorsqu'elle propose d'amener les "prisonniers au soleil", il se réveille. L'explication de Mawle sur les intentions de Sauron de "guérir le monde" et de créer quelque chose "non pas de chair mais sur de la chair" montre les dons de l'acteur.

La performance tamisée évoque une douleur ancienne et une profondeur historique qui alimente la magie de la création de Tolkien. Et Adar ne peut pas être séparé par son histoire. Il le porte sur son visage, il s'attarde sur sa voix tremblante, et il coule de chacun de ses mouvements. Mawle a fait quelque chose que toutes les prophéties ont eu du mal à faire; il a rendu le pouvoir du monde invisible tangible et dangereux simplement en en discutant avec conviction.

Joseph Mawle a livré une performance avec une attraction gravitationnelle. Pour tous les mystères et rebondissements de Rings Of Power , aucun n'a égalé son ascension constante vers le pouvoir. Son interprétation nuancée et sensible du plus vieil Orc vivant a placé la barre haute pour le reste de la série, et Amazon devra conjurer le pouvoir du monde invisible pour nous le faire oublier de si tôt.

Merci infiniment Mr Matt Schimkovitz

Thanks to @adar.the.adorable for the pictures

An ode to Adar-Joseph Mawle, which I would liked to be able to write as well.

The most beautiful and the most complete in my point of view.