#mal could barely control it safely

[yourgirlgigi]

Audreys lack of control over the septer could’ve killed people

[woso-fan13]

New Year’s Eve

You had been insisting that you could stay up until midnight all day. Now, it was barely 8:30pm and your little eyelids were drooping behind your New Year glasses. Your body was slumped into the corner of the sofa, your teammates watching as you tried to keep your eyes open. 

Kelley and Alex walk back into the room with fresh snacks for the table. Seeing your head lull forward, Kelley passes her bowl off to Alex and walks towards you. Wordlessly, she picks you up, settling into your spot. Now cradled in her arms, it was so much harder to stay awake. It becomes even harder when she grabs a pacifier off of the side table, popping it into your mouth. She joins in a nearby conversation, her voice pulling you to sleep as she rocks you gently. Within minutes, you are fully asleep. 

Kelley stands up, keeping you cradled in her arms. She walks over to where Alex is greeting the newest teammates to arrive, the cool breeze coming in the door causing you to begin to stir. Alex, feeling Kelley behind her, turns around. Seeing your face scrunch, she ushers the guests inside before turning her full attention to you. 

“Shh, baby,” she coos, running a gentle finger over your face, “Mama’s right here. Go to sleep, sweetheart.” 

Your face relaxes and your breathing evens out as you fall fully asleep again. 

Kelley looks up to Alex, “I’m going to go stick her in her crib before it gets too busy out here.”

Alex nods, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Hey, Mommy,” she whispers to Kelley. 

“Yeah, Mama?” Kelley responds cheekily. 

“Hurry back, I need my midnight kiss.”

Kelley laughs slightly, winking at Alex as she heads to the stairs. Heading to the nursery, she changes your diaper quickly and wrangles your limbs into pajamas. Zipping you into a sleep sack and ensuring you still have your pacifier, she sits in the rocking chair. You were fully asleep, but that didn’t stop Kelley from doing her favorite part of your nightly routine. She rocked gently in the chair, quietly singing a lullaby. She hums nonsensically for a few minutes after the song ends, just watching you sleep. 

Finally, she slows the chair and stands up. She unlatches your little hands from where they had gripped her dress and places you into your crib. After watching for a minute to be sure you won’t wake up, she grabs the baby monitor and goes back to the party. 

—-

The next few hours pass in a blur. Teammates continue showing up, everyone catching up on all that had happened over the holidays. Drinks were freely poured and snacks were passed, laughter and chatter filling the house. 

Upstairs, you soundly slept. This is something that everyone was well aware of. When players entered the house and instantly demanded to hold you, they were simply shown your sleeping form on the baby monitor. While everyone was disappointed to not see you, they knew they would likely spend the night anyway, so they would see you in the morning. 

It was just before midnight when Mal scooted up between Kelley and Alex, shoving the baby monitor at them. Thanking her, they looked down at the device. The room was dark, but they could still see you sitting up in your crib. The lights were red, a clear sign that you were crying. Holding the monitor between their ears and turning the volume on slightly, they could hear your panicked cries. 

“Nightmare,” they say in synch. 

“I’ve got her, you stay here,” Alex says, standing up. 

“I can get her, I don’t mind,” Kelley insists, always more than willing to cuddle you. 

“You put her to bed, I’ll handle this. You stay here and try to control this crowd.”

Having clearly got the better deal, Alex heads towards the stairs. When she nears your door, she can hear your cries. Cracking the door open causes light to fill the room, illuminating your red face. Alex rushes inside, pulling you into her arms. 

“Oh, my poor baby. It’s okay, Mama’s here. You are so safe, Mama’s gotcha. Did you have a bad dream?” 

She paces the room, bouncing you in her arms. You don’t respond to her questions, simply babbling “mamamama” in between your sobs. 

“Yeah, peanut, Mama’s right here. It’s okay, just take big breaths.”

You clearly were not old enough to understand what your mom was saying and to follow her directions, but the repeating path she was walking and the vibration of her chest was doing enough to soothe you. 

When you have calmed to the point of only occasional hiccups, Alex sits in the rocking chair. Your head is in the crook of her arm, your wide eyes staring up at her. She grabs a pacifier, holding it in front of you. She watches your eyes light up, your body relaxing when you have the soother in your mouth. 

She snuggles you closer, rocking the two of you. She could hear a quiet chatter from downstairs, but she wasn’t in a rush to get back downstairs. You were her priority, everything else just became background noise. 

Alex looks up when she hears a knock on the door frame. She looks over to see Kelley standing in the doorway, a glass of champagne in each hand and a bottle tucked under her arm. 

“You two look comfy,” she says, entering into the room. 

Setting the glasses on a small side table, she sits on the arm of the rocking chair. She smiles down at you, using her thumb to wipe away the tears left on your face. 

Wordlessly, she slips your pacifier out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with your bottle. You eagerly begin suckling, the warm milk relaxing you. The women watch in silence as you work, your eyes shutting as you get towards the end of the bottle. 

Looking at a clock, Alex turns towards Kelley, “you should get back downstairs, it’s almost midnight.”

Kelley makes no move to leave, “This is where I want to be. So many of my favorite moments this year were right here, with the two of you. There isn’t anywhere I would rather be.”

Kelley pulls the now empty bottle away from you, sticking your pacifier back in. You were asleep again, hopefully for the rest of the night. She sets the bottle on the table, grabbing the glasses of champagne instead. She hands one to Alex just as they hear shouting from downstairs. 

Midnight. 

The two clink glasses, taking a sip. They share a quick, champagne-flavored kiss. Alex sits in the chair, one hand cradling you, the other holding her glass. Kelley is still perched on the arm, one arm wrapped around Alex, the other holding her champagne. 

It was quiet upstairs, no words were spoken. There was nothing to be said. They had finished the old year in their favorite way and started the new year with a happy memory. This is what they wanted to remember. 

[greymouse42]

sorry sorry one more - when you said Malachi thinks he's "impossible"... I know why /I/ think he's impossible, but can you elaborate on that from his pov? Is it just the insufferable thing or is there more?

(he might be insufferable, but I love him for it, your honor)

With all the love and morbid fascination in the world, I very much want to know why you think he's impossible uwu. But unfortunately I don't think he's even aware of how insufferable he is in arguments 🤣

The actual answer got Sad™

I moreso meant — like. Jan is their own kind of disaster, but between the two of them, Jan's finished college, has a career, and has a furnished apartment. Mal only has half of one of those things. He barely remembers his twenties. In 2013 he literally keeps forgetting to buy a bedframe. His interests, when he remembers he has them, are deeply in-the-weeds and not always appropriate. He has about ✨ one date’s ✨ worth of sane and normal conversation material before he is abruptly out of his depth, and he runs into this threshold of “wow I've run out of things that're safe to say about myself” with everyone he meets (except Jan).

Also Paul (therapist) for all of his usefulness is not, imho, kind (because I do not think Mal could stand a kind therapist, honestly). After having one of the sessions played out in downtime, I think there's maybe an interesting thing happening where Paul is being very helpful on the PTSD front, but an unintentional side-effect is that Mal's self-esteem is actively getting sandpapered every time they talk.

Tldr: his life completely falls apart every 20 years and he's still not 100% sure why. He thinks that's maybe a bit unfair for anyone else to deal with. His own parent didn't want to deal with it why would anyone else it's fine he's got it totally under control he's so functional.

[canipetthatdeaddove]

My mom's husband has completely abandoned her, left her off his insurance since last year, and "forgot" to add her during the enrollment period in October for this year.

My mom suffers from epilepsy (grand mal seizures), has had a frontal lobe craniotomy (a fucking lobotomy that made everything worse), still suffers from debilitating seizures, has a sodium depletion syndrome that makes life a living hell (imagine being told you can only have less than a cup of water a day to prevent fluid retention but have to take salt pills, your skin is drying out to the point its sloughing off, your eyes sting from crying literal salt crystals). On top of that, it's just awful to be her - so much unhealed trauma from her childhood and abusive relationships. There's no safe place in her head, so she spends all day watching Korean dramas and doing whatever she can to escape her reality.

David Welch, son of Elmer and Ann Welch, wants my mother to die. He's waiting for it. He's watching it. And I'm helpless to do anything. They had to change her meds over the last year due to finances - not medical reasons. Meds that have Fucked. Her. UP. because they aren't the right meds that work for her. They're merely what she can afford. She can't get the medical attention she needs, she can't go to St. Luke in KC, she can't go to the Mayo Clinic, and she is paying thousands of dollars out of pocket for the meds that are just killing her.

I'm not being quiet about it anymore. If only people whose opinion mattered to him would see. Go see her in the broken home he refuses to pay anything to fix where mold is rife and the plumbing is fucked, the washing machine barely works; go visit her and look at all the bumps and bruises from falling because he refuses to have any accessible ANYTHING installed, her skeletal frame, and read all the hundreds of abusive and weirdly religious messages he sends her.

He could divorce her. He is non-disabled and in full control of his mental faculties. He could divorce her. But I think the fucker wants the attention of calling himself a widower someday.

My mom wouldn't be in this situation if there was anything I could do about it. She has a host of unpleasant mental issues that keep her there, in that depressing home, dying. She doesn't think she's worth fighting for; I know it. A lot of people actually feel that way, too.

I've gone through my seasons with my mom. But I'm sober now. And no matter what the past, her imperfections, the direct correlation to her behavior and my drinking - she doesn't deserve this. And my drunk brother and tweaking fucking sister will probably die from their own addictions because mom will die horribly and miserably before they reconcile, and the pain of it will hasten them to their graves.

I'm in a lot of pain over this, and I am not at the point in my sobriety where I've got a handy set of tools to handle this. Stoicism? Would you? As your mother deteriorates in a perfectly preventable situation? As someone ELSE decides she's not worth it? If you can do that, I can't relate to you. You're in the same category as her husband - a cruel monster.

[horce-divorce]

OK I found something delta 8 is actually good for. So, when I'm having a REAL bad MALS flare, it hurts to be hungry as much as it hurts to eat. Like, my stomach growling literally causes so much pain that it makes me panic as much as eating does.

weed is the thing that gives me an appetite. the ONLY thing. my body doesn't produce a natural appetite anymore, just nausea and pain, thus why I can't eat w/o an appetite stimulant (cannabis). the munchies literally keep me alive.

except for when I'm already flaring, like right now. I've barely been able to eat solid food for a week, and even liquids hurt. Even breathing hurts. I'm so nauseous I can't even sit upright. I'm dizzy, my head is fuzzy, and im in a constant state of presyncope.

If I smoke weed right now, I will actually get so hungry it'll be counterproductive. Because right now, I'm not feeling my hunger. My body is starving, but as long as I don't smoke, I don't feel that hunger, and the hunger pangs don't start.

As soon as I smoke, a week's worth of near-starvation is going to hit me all at once, and my stomach will he ROARING with hunger, and it will hurt so bad and make me so nauseous just to breathe that I won't be able to get up and eat; instead, i panic from the level of utterly relentless pain im in, my HR spikes and i get an adrenaline dump bc my POTS already flares when my MALS does, and then I crash and pass out. I know because that's what happened last night, and countless times before.

So I've been avoiding weed today because I'm so hungry that I'm terrified to feel it. Which means I get no relief for my other symptoms either. (I'm aware that it's counterproductive not to eat, MALS is infuriating.)

But the thing is, d8 doesn't make me munchie the way weed does, it's part of why I don't like it. But one thing d8 does better than weed is nausea control. It does almost nothing else. I do get some level of cbd effect from it, but I need a thc-type component with it or it doesn't work. Most of the time d8 just makes me Not Nauseous and nothing else. There's like a smidgen of pain relief but not much.

But today, I REALLY needed the nausea and cbd effects without getting "high" or hungry, (I don't get high anymore but know. The other effects besides nausea control) and the d8 is actually helping a lot. Its rather gentle compared to weed, which normally I hate, but today it's perfect. It's not making me hungry, which is actually making it possible for me to walk around and like, drink my milkshake without it making my nausea worse, because my stomach isn't going "HOLTFUCKIGJSHIYIMSYARVINGFEEDMENOOWOWWWWWWWWW" and then not being able to handle it/instantly barfing it back up when I do.

The downside is that both of them make me cough, which is also incredibly painful right now, and edibles don't work for me, so most of those are out. If I can suck on it/dissolve it in my mouth, I'll get something out of it, but even then it takes 100s of mgs to get me to the dose I need, and most edibles only come in 100-200mg packs because for a rec user thats several doses.

And that's all a moot point rn anyway because we can't go to the dispo lmfao. We need to be back in Michigan for so many reasons. When I have consistent access to weed these episodes happen much less frequently, bc I can more consistently keep myself on solid food. Not always, but much more consistently. Would also be great if we had a home and like, a safe and sanitary kitchen we could use for our needs but I guess that's asking too much

[nathaniel-donovan]

Her joke had him barely chuckling; amused and yet he doesn't really show it. "Until we know it's not, yeah." Nate wasn't necessarily worried about what secrets might be told, his focus seemed to be set on the fact that whoever they were behind the threats, the attack at the gala, clearly could up their game. Dante Parker was dead so knowing that told him whatever game was being played, was only going to get worse. "Don't want you to worry, just tryna be careful." He knew that was easy for him to say, he was just doing his own damage control and cancelling out any what if's he did have going through his mind. No he couldn't cross off them all, but the baseline for him was that if something were to hit his way, he didn't want either of his sister's in the middle of that. Having lost Cassie several months ago was enough for him to stress about losing Logan or Lydia; he wasn't sure if he could actually go through all that again. "Always got my phone on me though so you can bug me that way." He mentions just to try and ease whatever doom and gloom she might have been thinking. He wasn't about to tell his sister the ins and outs, that wasn't something he'd ever do, he just wanted her safe. "Is Mal still helping you at the shop?"

"I'll have to learn to live with the disappointment." She said, followed by a dramatic sigh before she polished off the remnants in the bag. Logan's gaze briefly met her brother's, then shifted back to the solemn sight of the two tombstones before them. It's a truth seldom spoken that grief never truly fades; it just becomes a quieter companion over time. That was how it felt for Logan, at least. There were days when the absence of their mother felt overwhelmingly vast, and now, with Cassie's loss, that void had only deepened.

Her brows knit together, puzzled by his abrupt change in demeanor. "Um, rude. What are you, like hiding a stash of dead bodies?" She joked with a touch of sarcasm, but her expression quickly shifted into one of concern. "Yeah, okay." She nodded slightly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "So, this is serious then?" Her mind immediately went back to the gala attack. While part of her was curious for more details, Logan also realized there was no point. More importantly, she doubted her own ability to handle any further negative details. Logan had always struggled with anxiety, however, it had only gotten worse over the last few months - and this only further intensified it.

[theygender]

.

[messycunt]

wait ummm…. uhhhhh….. malleus and period sex 0///0 like him fingering you while ur on your period and licking his fingers when he’s done, him finding out ur on ur period and begging you to let him eat you out. he just wants to taste your blood so so bad and he thinks it so so sexy that like… like you can hold babies and stuff and he gonna like… like he’s… he’s gonna put his eggs in you some day 0///0 - 🍨

cw: fingering, period pussy eating, blood, a bit of dubcon at the end, breeding kink??? idk Malleus thinks you being fertile is hot, Lilia being a bad influence lol, probably ooc Mal but idrc, he just loves you soooooo much and cant control himself

Malleus’ understanding of the human body isn't lacking per se, there's certain things he's relatively knowledgeable on and certain things he's not and he’s well aware of that but he felt that he could safely assume that the strong scent of blood wafting off of you was a cause for concern. 

The way you almost nervously waved him off when he had approached you about it only made him more worried and so he decided to inquire further elsewhere. 

Lilia let out one of his signature bratty giggles before explaining to the poor stressed dragon that what you were going through was completely natural for someone with your anatomy and would be over within about a week. Other than the pain from cramping you would be completely fine and there was nothing for him to worry about. So if this was all just the result of your body maintaining its fertility for him the least he could do was try to make it more bearable for you. The old man then went on to swoon about how cute humans are when they are irritable and how adorable they were when having their overly sensitive breasts groped and pulled at but Malleus was only half paying attention by then. 

Taking the first step to helping you was easier than he had anticipated. He offered you a heated palm massage(how convenient his magic was!). It seemed innocent enough so you took him up on it,

You sat at the edge of his bed barely fighting off sleep as his heated palms lay comfortably against your lower tummy occasionally rubbing slow lazy circles and trailing lower. His head rested against your shoulder, lips pressing against your neck and humming some tune you couldn't place. 

His next offer was much different.

Laid back flat against the mattress naked from the waist down with your bottom half rested on top of a neatly folded black towel. Even hunched over Malleus still towered over your body, his middle and ring finger pumped in and out of your bloody cunt at a slow steady pace; the heel of his hand pushed up against your clit, staining his hands in red. By the time Malleus was satiated with how much he had indulged you it had left you overstimulated and trembling. He pulled his hand from between your legs and licked the rivlets of blood that ran down his arm as he did, satisfied with himself.

He still wanted more. 

He still NEEDED more. 

Maneuvering your body to push your knees to your chest he latched his mouth to your overstimulated opening. Your breathy protests and attempts at kicking him away were futile. The poor thing just couldn’t help it. This bountiful red river was flowing directly from the womb that would soon be full of his brood and bear him heirs. Soon but not soon enough yet he throbbed at the thought alone. Still he has to be patient, for your sake.

10.16.22 - more

[descendantofthesparrow]

Reprise 2.0 - Harry Hook x reader - Part 8 - Battles and heartbreak

=

Harry couldn’t breathe, watching as you plummeted towards the stone ground. One moment you were behind him on the back, the next you were just-gone. He nearly crashed trying to stop, looking back to see you nowhere in sighed, you hadn’t just fallen off, you were-gone. He went to tell Uma that but they heard Celia’s scream, pink lightning shooting across the darkening sky. “Maleficent” Uma snapped, tumbling off the bike as she and Harry raced back towards the castle, seeing Mal’s dragon form flying above, circling a particular spire where Uma could just barely make out the form of possessed Audrey and-oh holy shit!

“(Y/N)!” Harry screamed out your name, dropping his hook and rushing towards you as Maleficent dangled you over the edge after you tackled her, then she dropped you with a cruel laugh. You looked at him, tears in your eyes, screaming in pain as a bolt of lightning hit your chest; then your eyes closed, as if in sleep.

And you hit the ground with a sickening crack “(Y/N)!!!” Harry screamed again, losing his balance on the castle steps and crawling over to your limp body, sobbing as he pulled you into his arms. “no, no nononono (y/n) ye can’t do this ta me, ye cant!” Harry cried out, holding you close, ear pressed to your chest, hoping for any sign of life.

Nothing, no beating of your heart, no rise of your chest-and-and. Harry pulled back, feeling something warm and wet on his hands and knees, scream-sobbing as he saw your blood all over him, pooling on the stone he was kneeling on, all coming from the back of your head. “no-please-(y/n) no” Harry cried out, holding you close as Maleficent laughed from above, holding Celia hostage as Mal tried to attack, doing her best not to hurt Celia.

So consumed by his sudden grief, Harry didn’t notice as Mal and Uma attacked Maleficent, the sorceress suddenly overwhelmed by the daughter of Ursula, enough to where Mal had fully pulled back, staring wide-eyed as Uma flashed around as quick as lightning. It would strike, Uma would appear, attacking Maleficent, thunder would roar, and Uma would be gone.

Maleficent couldn’t understand it, how had a puny nobody like Ursula’s daughter gained this much power? Where had she gotten this magic to control the very skies above? Maleficent let out a couch as her stomach was kicked, sending her off the spire and towards the courtyard. She teleported just in time and tumbled safely into the grass.

She growled as she stood, Uma and Mal landing in front of her, both staring her down. Mal huffed, clutching the glowing ember in her grip, glancing down as it sparked and glowed, trying to…get to something it seemed. She glanced back at you, eyes widening as she saw Harry cradling your lifeless body, your eyes closed and face peaceful as if in sleep.

‘oh gods, mom what did you do?’ Mal thought, unable to rip her eyes away from the sorrowful scene. Harry sobbed over your body, face buried in your neck, your blood soaking into his skin and clothes. Maleficent took the opportunity of Mal’s distraction and sent a powerful blast of magic at her, one that would’ve majorly hurt Mal if not for her quick reaction and counterattack with the ember.

Uma stood, waiting to see if Mal would need her help as Mal and Maleficent held each other in place, the scepter against the ember, daughter against mother. Mal grit her sharp teeth, hissing as she began to get pushed back, having never known how to truly use the ember. ‘you’re only half hades’ her father's words played over and over in her head ‘the ember won't do everything for you that it does for me’. The ember sparked and suddenly dimmed, cracking as the scepter overpowered it, throwing Mal back and forcing her to go back into her human form to prevent injury “Shit!” Uma yelped; throwing up a wall of water to protect herself as Maleficent laughed, turned to her, and attacked.

Celia raced down the spire steps, finally making it to the courtyard after running through countless confusing halls. “(y/n)!” Celia cried out, her hands covering her mouth as she saw you and Harry, kneeling in a pool of your blood “(y/n)” Celia sobbed, turning to look at the battle, Uma twisting around and sending waves and whips of water that she summoned from the air, the trees, the grass, towards Maleficent.

Uma yelped as lightning struck her, burning her side as it crackled against her skin “fuck!” Uma gasped as she was thrown to the side, the wind knocked out of her as Maleficent cackled. “you will never win against me! I! the mistress of all evil, will rise and rule again!” the scepter glowed brightly in the possessed Audrey’s hand,  the princess looking more and more like the fae sorceress with each passing second, her horns growing bigger as Maleficent took further control of Audrey’s body.

Mal stared down at the cracked ember within her hands, no…nononononono! “no” she whispered, desperately trying to, somehow, mend the crack, but when she pushed the ember together, it split; leaving Mal with nothing but two pieces of coal. “no.” she sat back on her heels, tears streaming down her cheeks as her mother laughed.

Harry peaked up from you, sniffing as he cradled your slowly cooling body against his, Celia holding your limp hand, tears streaming down both their cheeks. He looked at Uma, who struggled to stand, blood running down her side, her clothes torn and burnt from the strike of lightning.

“insignificant fools, thinking you could defeat me. The mistress of all evil” Maleficent cooed, taunting her daughter and ‘friends’. “you are nothing but idiotic children hoping to beat something greater than you. Still hoping to be more than what you’ve been told.” She spoke directly to her daughter at this “Such an impressive display of kindness, of goodness, for what? to lose it all? To your own mother? you could’ve been great Mal, but you gave it all up-“ Maleficent gestured around, to the castle, to Auradon, to Celia “for this. For a boy, for friends. I told you; you had no need or room for love in your life, and look where that got you. Defeated, abandoned, by both of your parents.”

Maleficent laughed again, blasting Uma back down when she tried to rush her “oh stay down you brat, I’ll deal with you and your pirate boy in a moment…but he’s a little preoccupied with his little love~” Harry glared at Maleficent, his eyes flashing red “oh how scary~ and how sweet~ she sent her love by the way, right before she fell. I could see it in her eyes, she just wanted to tell you one last time, that she loved you oh so much”

Harry tried to stand, but he couldn’t, his strength ripped out of him, unable to stand under the weight of your death. Maleficent cackled once again, green lightning coursing across the darkened sky. “oh how wonderful~ a perfect way to come back into power~” she turned to the forest, where Mal’s friends and fiancée were waiting as stone statues. “And I think the first thing I’ll do at sunrise, is take care of all your little distractions, starting with your precious king.” Mal snapped her head up to look her mother in the eyes, her breathing becoming labored as her magic boiled beneath her skin, a fire licking within her gut.

Maleficent just laughed, like she did when Mal was a kid and she had skinned her knee, or when she had cried about losing her “new” paint can, or when she told her she loved her. No. She wouldn't let Maleficent just-stand there, and laugh as she destroyed everything Mal cared about, she wouldn’t let her hurt Uma, she wouldn’t let her hurt Harry, she wouldn’t let her hurt Celia and the gods be dammed if she ever laid a hand on Ben, or Evie, or Jay, or Carlos.

“FUCK YOU!” Mal screamed out, tears trailing down her face as her mother just pouted at her, not realizing Mal was tapping into something very powerful as all her friends came to mind, every memory in Auradon, every time Ben smiled, when Evie talked about bringing more kids to Auradon, when Carlos invented something new, or when Jay gave her hugs randomly.

She wasn’t going to let her mother ruin her life. Not again, never again. “Say that again darling, I didn’t hear you~” Maleficent cooed, her smile dropping as Mal’s eyes glowed a bright, vile, green, her body starting to pulse with a new blue glow. “FUCK.YOU!” Mal screamed again, her voice echoing as huge wings spread from her shoulders, and the blue glow turned to fire, condensing in her arms, legs, and hair.

Maleficent took a large step back, not expecting the sudden power surge that had come from her daughter, who got to her feet, her teeth bared at Maleficent “I’m not letting you destroy my future; I’m not letting you hurt Uma, or Ben, or Evie, or my boys, I won’t let you hurt anyone else, ever again. Now.” Her fists flared to life with blue fire, the same fire beginning to rise from her eyes. “let.Audrey.go.”

Maleficent scoffed, as if some little power up would scare her “as if-AGH” Maleficent was blasted to the side by a cyclone of water, Uma once again on her feet, her necklace glowing brightly at the clouds above crackling with lightning. “you heard the bitch, let Audrey go” Uma snapped, and Mal smirked, the two girls staring Maleficent down, who snarled and got to her feet, sweeping her cape out of the way. “foolish girls, I will destroy-AH!” she was tripped, a shadow pulling at her feet and tugging her away. “HOW DARE-“ Maleficent gasped in pain, suddenly flung back by a strong kick, Harry reeling his foot back in as he glared down at Maleficent. “Don’ think that’s all yer getting, ye killed (y/n)” Harry snarled, his eyes glowing red, and Maleficent felt a spike of fear run through her chest. She had heard the stories of Hook’s curse, and how dangerous it was, but she hadn’t known that the curse was passed down to his son.

She attempted to teleport away, to regain her advantage, but Mal blasted her with blue fire, burning Maleficent’s clothes and skin. She screamed in pain, her teleportation spell failing as she lost concentration. She felt a fist against her face, sending her back to the ground, Harry standing above her, his knuckles bloody with her now broken and bleeding nose. She tried to insult them, to ruin their confidence, to get her bearings back.

But each time she got up, each time she tried to speak, someone would stop her, be it Harry with his physical attacks, or Celia tugging at Maleficent's shadow and tripping her up, or Mal with her new magic, or Uma soaking her to the bone with water that felt like concrete when it hit her. “ENOUGH” Maleficent slammed her scepter into the floor, creating a strong shield to protect herself “IDIOTIC CHILDREN, I WILL KILL YOU ALL!” Mal took to the skies, blasting the shield with powerful blasts of iridescent magic. Uma moved at what felt like supersonic speed, lightning flashing each time she took a step, sending torrents of water at the shield.

Harry and Celia took a step back, knowing they were almost useless against the magic barrier, so they would wait until the opportune moment to attack. Uma noticed that Maleficent hadn’t guarded the ground below her, and she smirked, raising her hands in one fluid motion, draining the grass below Maleficent’s feet and capturing her within a sphere of water. Maleficent gasped, suddenly out of air and unable to concentrate long enough to think of a spell to escape. “two choices maleficent” Uma said in a calm voice, her eyes glowing with her shell. “Either release Audrey, or die. Only fair for what you did to (y/n)”

Harry glanced back at your body, tears burning in his eyes as he looked at your limp form, lying the same way he left you, one of your hands gently laid across your waist. Maleficent just let out a garbled threat, choking as water entered her lungs. Uma rose her brow, clenching her hand to pressurize the water around Maleficent.

All at once, Maleficent released Audrey, the princess's limp body dropping to the dead grass as she was released from the sphere, Maleficent's shadowy soul flew up, only to scream out as Mal blasted her “I’m done with your bullshit mother” Mal snarled, bringing her hands together and in a bright flash of light, a small black and green gem dropped to the ground.

Everyone took a deep shuddering breath, Mal and Uma going to check on Audrey as Harry turned on his heel, going to walk back to you…only to see an older woman kneeling beside your body, your limp hand in hers. “Hey” Harry whispered, almost speed-walking to you and the woman, watching the woman lean down and kissed your forehead. He watched as your body shimmed pink and green before your chest began to rise and fall, your fingers twitching “(y/n)?” Harry gasped, breaking out into a sprint as the woman sat back on her heels, a smile on her lips as Harry collapsed at your side, taking your body into his arms, feeling it warm up under his touch. He pressed his ear to your chest, sobbing as your heart beat loudly against it. “(y/n)” he pulled you tightly into his chest, rocking back and forth as the woman watched him with a smile.

“Thank yeh” he cried out, looking up to the woman, her purple eyes warm and kind “Thank ye so much-i-I” Harry devolved back into ugly yet relieved sobs, just so happy you were alive. “You’re welcome Harry,” the woman said, her voice like a mother, the skin next to her eyes crinkling as she smiled “I could not bear to let her die, when I brought her here in the first place” Harry looked up at that, this…this woman brought you here? How? “Persephone?” the woman, Persephone apparently, turned at Uma’s voice, her and Mal staring at her in awe “no fuckin’ way-why-how?” Uma stuttered out, gesturing to the goddess in disbelief; Persephone simply nodded to your still sleeping, yet alive, body. “I am the reason she’s here, I could not let her die” Harry thought back to your sudden burst of energy when the knights were attacking, and the odd shift of energy back when FG had sent you back. “you” Harry whispered, holding you close to his chest as he stood, towering over the just shorter goddess of spring “yeh kept (y/n) safe when I couldn’t…thank you”

Persephone smiled and nodded “It was my pleasure Harry” she turned her eyes down to you, frowning a bit “but I’m not sure why she isn’t waking up, I healed her of all her injuries.” Harry looked down at you, frowning when he realized you hadn’t woken up yet…but if Persephone had healed you, then…shouldn't you be waking up? “(y/n)?” Harry said quickly, shaking you gently. Nothing. Not a twitch or a change of breathing. You were dead asleep.

Uma walked up to him, her shell glowing as she reached out and put her hand on your forehead “wake up” she commanded, furrowing her brows when nothing happened. “Wake up!” she commanded again, her eyes glowing with her hand and shell. Nothing. Uma called Mal over and she quickly ran towards Uma, folding her wings in till they disappeared in a purple flash, frowning as she looked at your face “why isn’t she…?” Mal trailed off, placing both hands on your body and muttering a spell under her breath, swallowing hard when nothing happened. She glanced at Harry, then said the spell again, panic laced in her eyes as she stepped back “i-I can't wake her up…Audrey too” Mal glanced back at Audrey, who was dead asleep, her breathing just like yours. “i-I think my mom got one last hit in, on both of them. Eternal sleep like death…”

Harry audibly growled, tightening his grip on you as Ben and the others came riding out of the forest, all looking terrified for what they would stumble upon only to see a sleeping Audrey, a goddess, and the others all crowding around you and Harry. “She ain't dead though, neither is tha’ princess” Harry snapped, and Mal slowly nodded, wringing her hands together “I think this might be a slow uptake” Mal muttered, squeezing her eyes shut as Harry let out a painfilled yell, ducking his head down and bringing you closer to rest your head in his neck “Fuck” he sobbed, tears soaking into your top and skin.

Evie stepped closer, her hands covering her mouth in shock at seeing your near lifeless body. Harry looked up at her, nodding back down at your form “Do-do ye got any more of those-those anti-sleep potion things?” Harry asked quietly, meeting Evie halfway as she nodded and pulled out the smallest vile of the neon green potion, carefully pouring it into your mouth.

Harry waited for you to wake up as soon as it hit your tongue, just like it had worked for the boys and Dizzy. But there was nothing, no change in breathing, no twitch in your eyes, nothing. “Fuck” Harry gasped out, tears streaming down his cheeks rapidly “FUCK!” Harry could barely stand, so overwhelmed by the weight of your sudden death, revival, and now your inability to wake up. He collapsed, holding you tight in his arms. “please, please please, please wake up love, please i-I can’t-please” Harry whispered into your neck, his arms wrapped around you as if you were his last hope. You continued to sleep, screaming at Harry from behind the void of the spell, crying out to him ‘JUST KISS ME GODDAMIT!’ but nothing would go through, you just continued to breathe evenly and deeply.

“C’mon,” Ben said as he stepped next to Harry, setting his hand on his shoulder “let’s get inside” Harry nodded slowly, carefully standing and walking behind the group as Jay carried Audrey inside her family castle, Aurora and Phillip racing out to meet him, both crying out for their daughter.

Audrey was soon set on her bed, her boots and accessories being taken off by her parents as the vks and Ben stood around the room, Harry by the door with you still in his arms, tears streaming down his face. It was quiet, deathly quiet. Audrey’s parents were fretting over their sleeping daughter as Mal stood at the edge of the bed, standing in a pool of guilt, knowing she had indirectly and directly caused all of this.

As Mal apologized, one of the good fairies that had arrived only a few minutes earlier led Harry into the hall and guided him into an empty guest room “She can stay here until we find out how to wake her up, I’ve already gotten permission from Phillip and Rose” the blue fairy, Merryweather, said; her voice soft. Harry croaked out his thanks and set you gently on the bed, sinking to his knees next to it as the fairy nodded and left, going back to Audrey.

As Harry sobbed next to your sleeping form, begging you to wake up, everyone piled into the room, minus Aurora, Phillip, and the faires. Evie walked up to your other side, placing her hands on your arm, frowning at your body temperature. She put her fingers on your neck, biting the inside of her cheek as she felt your pulse was slower than it shoulder be “She’s slipping away, just like Audrey” Evie muttered, Mal hanging her head as she grit her teeth in frustration, both at her lack of control and being unable to help. “Fuck” Mal muttered, ruffling her hair as Harry intertwined your fingers with this, pressing your slowly growing cold fingers to his cheek. Mal bit the inside of her cheek, sharing a look with Evie before she sighed, bringing out the two pieces of ember and clicking them back together like a puzzle piece. “There’s only two people that could do something about this, and one of them is…Hades” Mal muttered, knowing her dad might be able to help you and Audrey, Mal knew she wasn’t skilled enough to draw away the magic trapping yours and Audrey’s body’s, but FG and Hades might be.

“Hades?” Ben exclaimed, crossing his arms as he stared wide-eyed at Mal, Persephone entering the room at her husband's name “no, he wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t risk it!” Mal stared at him, glanced at Persephone, who nodded gently with a smile, and Mal looked back at Ben “he might do it for me” Mal muttered, not really wanting to admit her parentage to a deadbeat dad; but for Harry, and for Audrey, she would have to, if only to convince Ben to send someone to grab the god of the undead .“He’s-he’s my dad”

Ben stared at her in shock, Carlos looked like he knew it all along, Jay looked a bit dumbfounded, and Harry didn’t care, just staring at your sleeping face “I-okay?” Ben stuttered, rubbing the back of his head “um-that’s…wow” Mal sighed, staring at Ben “I know, it’s a lot to take in, mom even told everyone my dad was human, even though I knew the truth…but-I’m not lying, and he might help…we could even” Mal gestured to Persephone who straightened up as Mal pointed at her “use Persephone to bribe him? I mean…I don’t really think he cares about me, but we all know what she means to him”

Ben looked a bit disturbed at the prospect of Mal’s dad not caring about her, but he nodded, tapping his fingers against his chin “I’ll-I’ll have to send guards to get him” he muttered, Uma glanced over at you and Harry, then sighed “maybe I could hitch a ride” she muttered, knowing she would have to go back to make sure the isle would be in order, to make sure it survived, and the kids were protected after the barrier was closed forever. Everyone looked at her, Harry whipping around to stare at her, his eyes rimmed with red “the isle is my home…someone needs to be there to protect it and the kids”

Uma side-eyed Mal, who suddenly realized-no one had known about her change of heart “the barrier won’t close” Mal croaked out, Uma and Ben straightening up at this announcement “Closing it won't do anything. Just make more bitter kids who will turn into villains, and it won't protect Auradon, it’ll just give us false security, Villains can come from anywhere;…we can just…I dunno, up security.” Mal turned to Ben “I should’ve never let your dad pressure me to make that choice Ben, I’m sorry I pressured you into making it, and I should’ve never thought of it. I’m sorry I tried to take away your dream, and I’m sorry I lied.” As she finished her sentence, she turned to Uma and her friends, staring at Evie and Carlos the longest. “I’m a bad friend and a bad leader” Mal muttered, closing her eyes as she sighed, looking back at Ben “I think I’ll need more classes before I even think about becoming queen”

Ben stared at her for a moment, then slowly nodded, realizing that Mal wasn’t ready to be his queen yet, and also realizing; that maybe he shouldn't have been king so young as well. They were both only 19, they had plenty of time for Mal to learn. “okay” Ben whispered, running his hands through his hair, looking back at Uma “…you’re still gonna go back?” she just nodded, but this time-it was only to stay until she made sure every kid that needed or wanted to, was off the isle.

She felt hands on her shoulders, an odd wet feeling soaking into her shirt. She looked up, seeing a nearly numb Harry, smiling down at her “you’ll need yer first mate~” Harry said quietly, bumping his head into hers as she leaned back towards him, taking his bloodied hand in hers. “but I ain't leavin’ without ‘er” Harry said firmly, nodding back at you. And Ben nodded, and he would make sure you were woken up before FG did anything to send you back.

Speaking of FG, she, Jane, Doug, and Gil burst into the room, the wand in FG’s hand “she’s back?” FG asked, furrowing her brows at the sight of you. Harry stepped protectively in front of your body, glaring down at the woman who had separated you from him last time. FG licked her lips nervously, going to tell Harry she had to send you back to just keep you alive.

But Persephone stepped forward, her eyes stern. “she will not be going back until she and Harry have enough time together, surely you will give them that?” FG stared at the goddess, then stepped back, nodding sheepishly. She was only a fairy, nothing against the goddess of the underworld. “good” The goddess said, nodding back towards your body “now, let's see if your wand will work, everyone has tried, yet nothing has stuck” FG frowned again “what? how is that possible? not even Persephone’s?” she asked, completely confused, no one’s magic had worked to remove a simple sleeping spell?

She moved forward, waving her wand above your body…and waited…nothing. she tried again, and again, tried a different spell, a cleansing spell. She kept trying, each time Harry only got more distraught until he was on his knees beside you, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “i-I” FG finally stuttered, completely magically exhausted, her hands trembling as she backed away from your body “I can't wake her up,-I just-I don’t-….it’s like-her body won't accept the magic…I’ve only seen this once before, a good couple hundred years ago, a similar curse to Maleficent's famous one, was put on a prince; not to be awoken by any magic…I fear Maleficent has used that same curse.” Harry looked at FG in pure terror, wondering what that meant for you “I’m afraid….I’m afraid no magic can awaken (y/n)”

Mal stepped up; her brows furrowed “but the prince? How did he wake up? And what about true love's kiss? Works every time?” FG shook her head sadly “The prince died” Harry’s eyes widened at FG’s words and he desperately grappled onto your arm, tears once again streaming down his cheeks “his parents tried everyone he was close to, anyone he ever showed interest in, even the girl he was engaged to but…nothing. I’m not sure this spell can be bypassed”

Harry looked at Persephone, hoping she knew more about the story, but she was frowning, as if remembering something. “I remember that prince, that curse is even older than me. I remember Zeus talking about being prayed upon to help him, but even he could not awaken the prince…oh my dear (y/n)” Persephone sighed heavily, burying her face behind her hands as Harry lost all feeling in his legs, nearly hitting his head on the nightstand next to the bed.

“No,” Harry whispered, feeling his eyes burn as he stared at you. He felt Gil’s arm on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly “no…no no NO NO NO! NO!” Harry screamed out, standing abruptly, turning to FG and the others “I WON’T ACCEPT THIS, SHE CANNE DIE, NOT-NOT AGAIN, I WON’T FUCKIN’ LET YE SCENTACE ‘ER TA DEATH! I WON’T LOSE HER!!”

They all just stared at him, just…resigned and sad. “NO!” Harry screamed out again, turning and punching through the wall, Jane and Mal jumping at the sudden action “I WON’T LET HER, I WON’T LET YEH KILL HER!” FG noticed his gleaming red eyes and closed her own, turning her head away as she pointed her wand at him and sent him off to sleep, just for a few hours, to let him calm down “I’m sorry Harry” she whispered as Harry dropped into Gil’s arms, his face red and wet with tears. She waved her wand again and he was clean of your blood, doing the same for you. She then turned the bed into a queen-sized mattress and gestured for Gil to set Harry down next to you.

Gil did as told, frowning down at his extremely distraught friend. “let’s go talk about this more outside, give him some time with her alone” FG whispered, she and the others walking out after her, Uma stayed back for a moment, moving to stand next to you and leaning down to kiss your forehead “Don’t die on us (y/n), Harry needs you…I need you” she whispered, running her hands through Harry’s sweat-soaked hair and walking out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Harry took a shuddering breath in his sleep, plagued by nightmares of your death, of you never waking up, of him being forced to leave you behind. Of Fairy godmother telling him you belonged in your world, that your true love awaited you there. And she would send you back with no hesitation, leaving him broken and alone.

Deep within the void of the spell, you stared towards the space where Harry should be, feeling your eyes burn with unshed tears. “oh Harry, just-get-get your dumbass brain in order n’ kiss me” you whispered, your voice the only thing that responded within that void “it worked before, it can work again”

-end of part 8-

 mmmmmyep....*evil laughter* i did that, and i have no regrets. hoped yall liked the final battle~!! 

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[sulky-valkyrie]

"when they arrive at a designated safe place, the sender refuses to be examined or cared for until the receiver is taken care of first." for anders x hawke hehehe

I am a monster and you're getting a bit of a cliffhanger *kiss kiss* for @dadrunkwriting ~~~

"Stroud, please!"  Anders pleaded.  "He would make an excellent Warden, I promise."

The other man shook his head.  "Anders, your promises mean nothing."

"Look, it's -" blue light flared "-we will turn ourselves in."

Stroud took a step back.  "Justice?"

"I confess.  I killed Rolan and the Templars he allowed into your ranks.  Take me to the Commander."  Justice picked up the Blighted man leaning against him heavily.  "And I shall carry your new recruit."

"If you insist," the Orlesian sighed.  "We will take you and . . . your friend back, but I make no guarantees for your safety or well-being.  Either of you."

Varric caught his arm.  "Blon - Blue, are you sure about this?  His family -"

"They will know we did all we could."  The spirit started after the other Wardens.

"Justice, wait!"

He paused and looked back as Bethany ran up.  She kissed his cheek.  "Take care of him." Then she ran a hand through her brother's hair.  "Don't you dare die,  Malcolm.  You hear me?"

Malcolm mumbled something about fruit under his breath and shivered.  Justice nodded sharply, then continued after Stroud.

Justice was, as usual, indefatigable.  But mortal bodies still needed rest, as he had learned in their flight to Kirkwall.  When the others stopped, he did as well, placing Malcolm down with as much gentleness as he could manage, then relinquishing control back to Anders for him to eat and drink, try to ease Malcolm's symptoms, then sleep.

Three - four, he reminded himself - Wardens could make good time through the Deep Roads, and they were climbing out of the sunken ritual tower where Anders had helped kill a sentient crazed broodmother in mere days.   Justice stopped coming out when they were on the surface: too much of a risk of being executed on sight by any Templars who might see them; Warden colors hadn't stopped them before, and wouldn't stop them again.

He continued to carry Mal.  Didn't want anyone else to touch him.

"Is the Commander -"

"Theron is in Antiva," Stroud replied gruffly.  "You will have to wait."

"Mal doesn't have time to wait."

"Varel and Nathaniel can conduct the ritual in his absence."  Stroud kept moving.  The other two Wardens glared at him but didn't say anything.  They'd barely spoken at all, and definitely not too him, but they didn't feel like Templars, so he ignored them.

After another couple days of travel, Vigil's Keep loomed in the distance.  Mal was getting weaker, and the mage had to resist the urge to break into a run.  It would just get them both killed if he showed up without Stroud to explain.  It might get me killed anyway, really.

Malcolm Hawke deserves freedom.  I know, I'm not angry about that, I'm angry that we had to choose between his and mine - ours.  He clutched Mal close, wiping sweaty hair from his brow.  This was all Anders’ fault, from the moment he agreed to give him the Deep Roads maps.

The flag above the keep bobbed and a horn sounded.  They'd been spotted, and the Wardens would likely be sending people out to meet them since Stroud wasn't returning empty handed.  Well, okay, he was empty handed, but Anders wasn't.

It wasn't Nate who rode out to meet them, but the bloody King.

Alistair looked tired, but wary.  "Anders?"

No reason to prolong the inevitable.  "Mal needs the Joining.  Just . . . let me make sure he's okay, then do what you want with me."

"I - you're - what?"

"Just get him the blasted cup, Alistair!" Anders snapped.  "We'll deal with the rest of it later."

"Give him to me."

"No."

Alistair sighed and pinched his brow.  "Fine."  He got off his horse and handed the reins over to Stroud.  "You and the rest go on.  I'll take the . . . recruit and the -"

"Captive," Anders spat.

"Nug droppings," Alistair retorted.  "I've seen you fight."  He gestured to Mal.  "Who's this?"

"Malcolm Hawke.  Long dull story."

"I'm sure.  Well, let's get him fixed up.  You sure I can't help carry him?"

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Fire and Darkness Chapter 10

The Darkling x reader

Word Count: 1292

Summary: Alina in the Fold, and some secrets are revealed.

Your eyes narrowed when she was brought into the tent. It was bad enough to tolerate her before she knew there was a more sinister plot brewing in Ravka, but now? You absolutely were not looking forward to dealing with her now. Mild surprise lanced through you when she returned your hate-filled gaze with one of her own. Inwardly, you were amused; the lost little lamb had finally grown a bit of a spine, had she?

“Leave us,” Aleksander’s harsh order pulled Alina’s eyes to him instead, that glare only intensifying when it landed on him. “So why did you do it?”

She scoffed. “Do what?”

“Betray me. Were you so eager to believe the rumors about me that you bought into the stories of the first person that came along singing of my evildoings?”

“You want to use the Fold as a weapon!”

“I want to protect Ravka!” he snapped. “I want to save our people.”

“At the expense of everyone else!”

“This is war, little Sun Summoner,” his tone was every bit as cruel as his reputation. “Sometimes such attrocities are necessary.”

“And seducing me? Was that necessary as well? Or did you just do that for fun?”

You snorted. “The easiest way to manipulate a foolish little orphan is to offer her the one thing no one else will: love.”

“You’d know, I’m sure.”

That really shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did, shouldn’t have wounded you like that, but you still sometimes had nightmares about the night you and Aleksander were forced to flee and leave behind the only life you’d ever known. You still carried around an old key, worn down by centuries of worrying its surface, to the shed in the back of that old farm that you hadn’t realized was buried in your pocket when you left there never to return. No, you hadn’t been a lonely orphan like Alina. You knew exactly what it was like to have a family that loved you, and what it was like to lose them in an instant. After all, it’d never been safe enough to go visit your cousin. Some part of you knew from the start that hoping to was a pipe dream.

So yes, her little jab hit a tender spot you weren’t proud that you still harbored after all these years. On reflex, your left hand curled itself into a dangerous claw teeming with angry flames within its grasp.

And then Alina had the nerve to look like she’d won. “I thought your housekeeper was otkazat’sya, Aleksander?”

“Why you little--”

You’d been in the process of reaching for the brat with your right hand when your husband caught your wrist; immediately the flame in your other hand intensified. His cool eyes met yours calmly, though you could see the rage writhing just under the surface. “Do you know what I plan to do with your precious tracker, Alina?”

It was just that simple to change the focus of children like her. Single-minded to the end.

~

As usual when it came to dealing with the precious Sankta Alina, every aspect of the plan went sideways in a single instant. The shift from her being seemingly unable to use her power to slicing the saintsdamned mast in half was quick enough to give you mental whiplash. Panic erupted around you, and it was all you could do to fight it off as you failed to lay eyes on the man you loved. Then you caught sight of her running off the side of the ship--something that would have been hard to do if not for the blinding white light that emanated from her skin. Then you were falling as the skiff itself was Cut in half.

You hit the ground painfully, head knocking against something hard enough that it sent your ears ringing. A bright flame formed in the palm of your hand, lighting the wreckage. All you could hear for several seconds as you frantically looked around for Aleksander was your own panting.

Pant.

Nothing but bodies moving pitifully with pain.

Pant.

Blood and gore from the soldier that’d been standing in the wrong place when that blade of solid light hit the skiff. Your mind froze for a second at the way his blood sank into the lifeless sand beneath him.

Pant.

There. A cocoon of darkness moving quickly closer to you, likely Aleksander’s method of keeping the hungry volcra away from his flesh now that they’d started swarming.

You were yanked into that little zone of shadow as soon as he was close enough; you extinguished the fire. There was the sensation of lips moving against the skin of your neck, but for several long, terrifying moments you couldn’t hear what he was saying. When your ears decided to start working again, it still sounded far away.

“Dearheart, can you hear me?” Saints, it sounded like he was whispering.

“Barely!” His wince told you that you were speaking far too loud for him being this close. “Hit my head,” you explained at a more reasonable volume.

“You need to get us out of here,” he instructed. “Just like last time.”

Well, at least you could stop hiding what you were. You nodded, hoping your injury wouldn’t affect your control. The flames seemed to pour from your skin like Alina’s light did from hers in order to create a swirling wall of fire that the volcra couldn’t force their way through. A quiet chuckle--you assumed it was quiet, not that you could really tell--made you look over at Aleksander before the pair of you started moving to follow Alina.

“What?”

“Did I mention I had the fabrikators make this kefta?”

“They make all of the keftas,” you deadpanned. “Is now really the time for this?” Not waiting for an answer, you grabbed his hand and started walking. That was about the time you noticed that he was limping though you didn’t dare move your attention from your shield to see why.

“True enough, but this one is yours.”

“What are you--” You looked down at yourself in confusion.

Little did you know that Mal and Alina’s endurance had run out not far from the skiff, so she’d pulled her light in enough that the darkness of the Fold swallowed it while keeping it intense enough to protect them, and then your own little light show had made them turn around to see just what was happening back at that boat. Horror surged in both of them as they realized that the Black General had managed and would likely continue to survive this little excursion. 

“She’s not supposed to be a grisha,” Mal breathed, denial dripping from his voice like that soldier’s blood on the sand.

“Baghra warned me that she was an inferni,” Alina admitted softly. “But . . .” I didn’t imagine she was capable of anything like this . . .

As they watched through the gaps of that swirling fire, the truth of what you were literally started forming before their eyes. The embroidery on your kefta--the one you wore, you’d explained so long ago, because the Darkling wanted you safer than other otkazat’sya due to trustworthy housekeepers being so hard to find--turned a vibrant scarlet while the white bled into black because of the heat. Without a doubt, you were an inferni, but there was something about you that warranted being gifted a kefta in Kirigan’s color, something Alina had originally thought only she and him, himself wore. That tied with the sheer magnitude and control of your power being displayed as the pair of you limped in the direction the skiff had come made Alina’s mind whirl.

Perhaps Baghra had been mistaken. Perhaps the fact that you still lived wasn’t tied to merzost . . .

[thewillowbends]

So I'm rewatching the first season and reading the book, and I've got Thoughts (TM)

And I've got a LOT of thoughts about what exactly Leigh Bardugo was doing here in terms of the moral and ethical statements of the narrative, so I'm putting it under the cut.

Something that's really glaring on the rewatch is just...the complete lack of compassion every character outside Aleksander has for the plight of the Grisha. The army treats treats them with reciprocal dislike, despite the fact that they couldn't even cross the Fold with the Inferni or Squallers. The tsar and tsarita treat them with condescension and disdain, clearly valuing them mainly as a utility that, historically, they've happily turned on when they felt they were growing too powerful. Baghra has just given up on trying to protect other Grisha who aren't immortal like her or Aleksander. Even Alina is guilty of othering them and has to be told off by multiple characters (Ivan, Aleksander, Baghra) to stop treating her power like a yoke instead of a responsibility and opportunity to help others.

We get this big, bad, armor-piercing line from her to Aleksander about how he doesn't care who suffers as long as he wins. Which is true to some extent, but...where is her compassion? Didn't we just spend a hefty portion of the narrative wanting to give her power away to somebody else so she can, what, be with her bestie? Meanwhile, there's, you know, an actual war going on. This isn't small stakes shit she sees going on around her. People are dying. We literally have an entire plot where we see a Grisha kidnapped, enslaved, and then sent to be put to death...who was given to the enemy by her own people!

And then we get that line from her in 1x07, only to have it followed up by her running away at the end of 1x08 for....why? Most people on the ship are dead or those that survived weren't his supporters. The people on the docks were killed, and most of them actually were traitors trying to kill Alina. Aleksander didn't lie about that. So she's running away to take the blame for some nebulous reason that's not really well explained, which is...well, what the fuck happens to the rest of the Grisha? Do we not care about how Aleksander's actions are going to reflect back on them and cause a potential backlash or something? Not to mention, nobody is on the other side to warn them that Aleksander is a threat to begin with. Even if you assumed he was dead, you'd definitely want to assume he likely had supporters back at the palace, too!

From a character writing perspective, I find it stupid that Aleksander doesn't tell her certain things because if he's such a big, bad, clever manipulator, he would absolutely be weaponizing his own pain and experiences to make her stumble in empathy. That's bad character writing to me when you're telling me somebody's an abusive villain but actually isn't using very real and effective abuser tactics. But then you also have Alina who refuses to even point out...Aleksander, I get it! I've talked to other Grisha! I see what you're going through! But this can't be the answer. You have to see this won't end well for you! Like, her own arguments make no sense to me. They're so myopic and self-involved.

One of the big things that bothers me that gets folded into Aleksander's other manipulations is this idea that he primarily associates and values her for her power, in contrast to Mal who primarily sees her for being herself. While I get the intent of that on a narrative level, in the scope of the wider story...it just literally makes no sense for Aleksander to parse those two as separate. Not when the whole reason Grisha are hunted down and killed is because they don't get the privilege of being people outside of their power. Aleksander doesn't get to be General Kirigan without also being the Darkling. Therefore, Alina doesn't get to be Sankta Alina without also being the Sun Summoner. Not a single other character gets to be relevant without being powerful.

Even on a narrative level, it makes no sense. One, it's frankly kind of sexist (when are male protagonists ever expected to be segregated from their power) and two...that's the whole reason we're telling her story! That's why she's the protagonist! She is special. She can't be separated from this unique power destiny has handed her. We don't tell stories about common, boring people; we tell stories about people who incite conflict or change. So even the mere concept to me of basing a character's identity or value around not wanting value is frankly kind of ridiculous.

There's just this strangely insidious underpinning to the story that power is inherently dangerous, even as it acknowledges that people who are NOT in power can very much suffer at the hands of those who do. So where's the moral and ethical reflection about what this means for the rest of us? What does that mean for minorities?

Think of the scene on the boat where Aleksander has Ivan kill off the nobility. The narrative wants you to see this moment as blackly humorous and awful, but stop for a moment and think about what happened there from his perspective. This is a man who spent centuries watching his people get killed and enslaved, and that isn't a false representation or manipulation from him, either. His statement is backed up both by what we see in the flashbacks and by other Grisha. Nobody created a safe haven for him and his people - he did that! He had to claw his way to the top, flatter, kill, and fuck his way through god knows how many noble houses, just to get to this moment where he could build a Little Palace. And it took him four hundred years just to get that! All while Grisha are dying!

And nobody did anything about it. Not the king, not the landholders, not even the peasantry. They were happy taking advantage of the Grisha's powers, of course, when Aleksander helped raise them up into a position of prominence, making them soldiers and enchanters. And even then, they're mocked! The army can't wait to get rid of them!

And then some noblewoman, who has enjoyed the benefits of her wealth and power, some of which were built on the backs of your people, sits there and tells you, the moment you take hold of the power everybody else has been grabbing for centuries, has the audacity to sit there and tell you that the world will hate Grisha and view him as a heretic?? When less than twenty years ago, your people were being killed right and left? When the enemy is still kidnapping and enslaving your people? When your own countrymen view you with fear and intrigue already? The audacity to sit there and frame it as a hypothetical when it's very much an actual reality still going on. Just look at the barely hidden seething rage and contempt on Barnes face when he delivers that quip about "needing to do that speech again." Motherfucker has been waiting YEARS for this moment, this revenge. And really, who can blame him...if you aren't wrapped up in the narrative wanting you to focus on just what he's doing to poor Alina.

The way the Grisha's situation is framed along with how the Darkling's descent into villainy is handled is so just incongruent to me. The pieces don't fit. You're asking me to see this man as completely irredeemable after you just showed me six episodes of Grisha being killed both for being what they are in the hopes of protecting Alina, after you showed me that Aleksander had already TRIED appealing to the protection of the crown by lending it his power, after making us see that lies and manipulation are the only way he and his mother have been able to survive as long as they have in a world that eradicated them. Where is the compassion in the narrative for that?

And okay, fine, you can do an irredeemable villain. You can do a Kilmonger-esque story with the Darkling, but that requires forcing your protagonists to empathize with the villain and change from it. But then I read ahead and...that doesn't happen?? She winds up walking away from it all at the end?? In fact, she even loses her power. And that's supposed to be a HAPPY ending? After we just saw how badly this minority was treated for how many centuries??

You know what it feels like? It feels like Leigh Bardugo read The Hunger Games, tried to replicate a Katniss, and then completely failed to understand the profound situational differences between her protagonist and that one. Katniss is a girl made extraordinary by her circumstances. She's not special herself other than the fact that she did the right thing at the right place at the right time and helped create the tipping point for a revolution that was already in the works before her. Katniss walking away from the world after makes sense because she's burned out after the war, but it also got its use from her. She helped make the revolution work; she showed up for the event while it was happening and did what she could. The situation was out of her control and power for the most part, and she still managed to rise the occasion.

Alina is NOT Katniss. She is inherently special. She is inherently powerful. She has the ability to create change and bring a new perspective that Aleksander has long given up on and which her country desperately needs. We know the world of the Hunger Games will be better because the creators of real change were always working behind the scenes behind Katniss. She was just their propaganda, their symbol. Alina is a symbol, but she is also a very real power. It's not an act of moral celebration for her to walk away from power at the end, namely because there's a whole minority class of people we still have to worry about. Putting a Grisha on the throne is no promise the country won't turn against them eventually, nor does that protect the hundreds of Grisha at the mercy of a superstitious peasantry and countries that will likely continue to invade them.

It's just...I dunno guys. It's frustrating because all the compelling elements are there in the characters and storyline, but it's like the author had a set of characters telling one story and then she had an entirely different plot in mind, and they just clash all over the place for me and become thematically inconsistent. But what really gets me is that she had seven years to think this shit over...and we're looking to get the same story all over again. Usually, it's a great thing to have an author involved in the show. This is a rare situation where I wonder if it hurts the chances of it improving.

[takaraphoenix]

Three Crows and a Goat

Fandom: Shadow and Bone / Grishaverse

Tags: m/m, character introspect, kind of fluff, jealousy, Asexual Kaz

Main Pairing: Kaz/Jesper

Summary: Kaz Brekker wasn't an emotional man, at least not when it came to expressing his emotions. He rather showed it. Like by getting his partner an Emotional Support Goat.

Links: On AO3 / On FFNet

--

Kaz Brekker wouldn't consider himself a emotional man. That wasn't to say he didn't have emotions; he simply preferred not to broadcast them, or to say them out loud. He was a controlled man, a man who always had control – over himself, his emotions, any situation at hand.

He had been informed that while that made him brilliant at his job, it made him questionable at best as a romantic partner. He wasn't one for physical signs of affection either. Human touch came... hard to him. Very rarely and only with those he truly trusted and loved. So any touch at all was already a huge sign of his affections. Still, when his eyes would wander and he saw other couples, hanging all over each other, constantly touching. It made his skin crawl. And it on occasion woke a strange sense of guilt – not an emotion Kaz experienced too often.

His partner didn't mind. He knew Kaz, knew who Kaz was – and that was who Jesper loved. The whole package, all of it, all of him. Baggage, quirks, issues and all. They had found their own ways of handling some things; Kaz' dislike of touch extended to a sexual level. It wasn't something he desired, even though he was close to Jesper, close enough to touch him on occasions, in reassurance, gently. Not sexually. For long, he had thought those two were linked, the same; he disliked touch, so of course did the thought of touching someone intimately not sit right with him. It was only after he had... fallen in love, that he had come to realize that these two things were not entirely the same, because even when he felt the urge to touch Jesper, it was never in such a manner.

And even that, Jesper was okay with. He'd had such a soft look on his face when he had assured Kaz of that. Yet Kaz knew Jesper was a sexual creature, he was a physical person. And so they had come to an agreement, regarding that. As long as it was purely sex – no emotion, no repeats, no personal details exchanged – Jesper was free to lay with whoever he liked.

On occasion, very rare occasions, Kaz found himself doubtful. Doubtful whether this was enough for Jesper. Because Jesper was not like Kaz – he was an emotional person. He was expressive in his emotions. Affectionate. Perhaps not in the traditional sense either, but still.

All of these factors culminated in Kaz Brekker, feared and respected throughout all of Ketterdam, carrying a fluffy baby goat through the streets. If any of his enemies could see him now-

He tried to carry the fluffy baby goat with as much dignity as he could, but there was very little dignity in carrying a fluffy baby goat. The only thing that kept him going was knowing what the goat was for. He knew both Jesper and Inej had thrown him suspicious and surprised looks when he had volunteered to get the goat; that was a job far beneath Kaz Brekker. There was a reason.

Because Kaz was not too good at showing his emotions. And because Jesper was very expressive in showing what he was feeling at all times. And because Kaz knew what the goat was for.

/break\

On the train, seeing Jesper just completely lose it and have a meltdown, Kaz knew most other partners would have gone over there to comfort him personally, hold him close in a tight, soothing embrace. Kiss him, hold him, make him feel safe. Kaz knew how to do the last of those and on occasions the first two, but this was different. This was on a different level.

"I need you to calm down. Hug the goat, shut the hell up!"

At first, Jesper looked startled. Him and Inej had both suspected the goat to be bait, to be a sacrifice if push came to shove. With furrowed brows did Jesper pick up the goat and gently caress it before hugging it tightly. Kaz could hear him whisper a startled so soft before he wrapped himself around the small furred creature. Fully and completely wrapped around the goat.

Kaz sat stiff, watching with wary eyes. Watching the gentle touch as Jesper caressed the fur, buried his face in the goat's neck, hugging it with both arms. The longer he hugged the goat, the more he calmed down. Physical contact soothed him. This comforted him. And Kaz knew that. He also knew he wouldn't be comfortable trading places with the goat, being hugged with so much intensity, two arms wound tightly, face buried in a neck, full body contact. The thought was overwhelming.

And so Kaz Brekker had gone and organized a goat. A small, soft goat. The one the woman he had gotten it from had assured him was the cutest of the goats. So Jesper would have something, something soft and warm and reassuring. Something to hug.

Perhaps Kaz was not the typical kind of partner, perhaps he couldn't offer Jesper the same things others could. But he was Kaz Brekker and he knew how to make the things he could do count.

The smirk spreading over his lips was pleased and satisfied as he watched his partner calm down enough to get up and get his gun out and shoot with pure, raw precision at any danger threatening them from the outside.

/break\

Kaz ran his hands over his cane. Over the mended parts. It was a love-language in itself, the way Jesper had fixed the cane. Theirs was a subtle way of showing each other their affection, but that did not make it any less strong. Like his hands, his eyes wandered. They were on a ship, about to leave for Ketterdam again. Return home. This mission had been a huge failure all around. Perhaps not a full failure, considering they had seen the 'saint' with their own eyes. Had seen the Sun Summoner, the light, the power, the... miracle. Kaz was not a believer, yet did religion not stop being religion when it was physical and graspable? The girl sitting opposite him was not some fabled saint in some religious tomb to be prayed at. She was no Sun Summoner or Sankta Alina, she was a lost girl. She was a lost girl, a scared girl, as he had seen so many before in his life.

The supposed saint sat between her friend and Inej. Inej, who had barely been able to tear her eyes off Alina since they had met her. There was awe and wonder in Inej's eyes, in a way Kaz had never seen before. Even as she was speaking with Jesper, she could hardly look away from Alina.

"The friends we made along the way."

Kaz quirked an eyebrow at that, looking more intensely at Mal and Alina. They truly expected to keep those two, didn't they? No. Lost girl or not, Kaz wasn't in the habit of keep every stray they met. Though, admittedly, he did invest in one of a kind and there was probably nothing more unique than the Sun Summoner herself. It would make Inej happy, that was for sure.

"I'm talking about Milo," clarified Jesper indignantly when Alina looked to be getting a big head.

"Who's Milo?" wanted Mal to know, confusion all over his face.

It was Inej who rolled her eyes, albeit affectionately. "No one you need to concern yourselves with."

That only made Jesper look even more offended. The goat was supposed to serve one purpose; get Jesper through the train ride safely. Instead, he had... grown attached to the animal. Named it. Bonded with it. Kept bringing it up. Kaz Brekker was not a jealous person in nature – he knew what was his and he made sure they were always clear in what that meant. Yet, inexplicably so, he felt jealous of a goat. A ridiculous motion that he most definitely could not allow anyone to know about. What was, perhaps, even more ridiculous was what followed.

"Mister Brekker. Your... special delivery, sir."

Kaz arched an eyebrow and turned toward the voice. "About time. The ship is about to leave."

He put as much displeasure into his words as possible, though he still took the bag of coins from his belt and handed it over to the young woman, in exchange for... a rope. Jesper next to him gasped m a high-pitched manner as he turned and saw what was on the other end of the rope.

"Milo!" Jesper's voice was loud, drawing unwanted attention and earning a pointed glare from Kaz, causing him to immediately drop his voice. "But how—Where-Why? I thought our funds were dwindled, why would you-?"

As he spoke, or rather rambled in broken half-sentences, he picked up the goat, hugging it close and kissing its head. Kaz made a face at that, though subtly so. Though he may not understand why Jesper felt that way about this creature, he knew the goat was making him happy. Otherwise, Jesper would not have kept bringing it up all the time.

"It seemed like a worthy investment," dismissed Kaz shortly.

Inej was hiding a smile and... Mal made a loud sound. "The goat! The goat that helped me escape!"

He lunged forward and started petting the goat too, much to everyone's surprise. "You too? How?"

"There, in that necklace around its neck, was a bullet. I used it to break my chains. To escape. A good boy, aren't you? Such a good boy!" Mal laughed, ruffling the goat's fur.

"His name is Milo and he is the best boy," agreed Jesper eagerly, petting Milo's flank.

"Milo, is it? Pretty boy," Mal was nearly cooing at that. "How do you know him?"

As Jesper launched into a retelling of how they had first crossed the fold, the other three were left simply staring at them. At least Kaz wasn't the only one watching them in mild disturbance. When Kaz turned a little, Alina had taken a seat next to him.

"You two are a very... different couple," whispered Alina curiously.

"I doubt that is any of your business," stated Kaz just a little coldly.

He wasn't one for chitchat either. Though he had to admit, he was mildly impressed that she had picked up on it. Most people who met Kaz and Jesper didn't realize what they were, that they were partners beyond their work. Perhaps there was a potential to Alina, even beyond being a Sun Summoner. She could be useful. Not that he was making any definite decisions, though he had to admit that it would bring Inej joy. And, looking at Jesper and Mal bonding over a goat, all Kaz saw was yet another argument Jesper and Inej would use to try and convince him to keep Mal and Alina.

"This is very thoughtful of you," continued Alina, not minding him, the smallest smile on her lips.

Kaz opted to ignore her. Perhaps then she would go away. Or stop irritating him. She surely seemed to fit in with them, he mused as he looked back toward Jesper, Mal and the goat.

"Oh. Oh, I'll go and find him something to eat," suggested Mal eagerly. "He deserves it."

Jesper handed the rope over to Mal and let the other lead Milo away. Instead, he turned toward Kaz, basically beaming at him. That expression surely was worth the money spent. Kaz swallowed down the smile fighting its way up onto his own lips. No such things, certainly not in public. Instead, he slowly reached out and rested his hand on Jesper's, holding it gently. If possible, the smile on Jesper's lips brightened even more.

~*~ The End ~*~

[popatochisssp]

Are any of the new guys ok with being child free? (I keep having to explain to my fam how I'm NOT EVER going to have kids) And I'd like some solidarity from fictional skeletons.

Broadly speaking, I think all of them would be okay with that! In general, all the boys’ idea of the future is uncertain and something they need to work out with their s/o, so that informs the perspective a lot.

I truly don’t think ‘no kids’ or ‘yes kids’ would be an explicit deal-breaker for any of them, but in terms of where their thoughts naturally fall about the topic:

Pre-discussion/negotiation, it’s probably a no: Sky (Underswap Sans), Paps (Underswap Papyrus), Mal (Swapfell Sans), Rus (Swapfell Papyrus), Ash (Undergloom Sans), Brick (Horrorfell Sans), Merc (Horrorswap Sans), Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans)

Genuinely neutral or undecided: Sans (Undertale), Pyre (Underfell Papyrus), Papy (Horrortale Papyrus), King (Horrorfell Papyrus), Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus), Sunny (Gastertale Sans), Aster (Gastertale Papyrus)

Pre-discussion/negotiation, it’s probably a yes: Papyrus (Undertale), Jasper (Underfell Sans), Slate (Horrortale Sans), Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus), Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus)

But like I said... they’re flexible, because your relationship and the future they want to have with you doesn’t work without... well, you!

If you’re a ‘definitely no kids’ person and you see your skeleton in the ‘yes’ category, that doesn’t mean you’re doomed-- it just means a couple conversations about it to convey your thoughts...and depending on the level of gungho for having kids he is (most aren’t married to it), maybe agreeing to a compromise where you adopt an animal or two and be dog/cat/iguana/whatever-the-hell parents.

Same goes for a ‘yes i want kids’ person who sees their skeleton of choice in the ‘no’ section, that’s just where they are before talking it all out with you. Some time and a few conversations to understand where everybody’s coming from and how to move forward, they’re willing to negotiate.

Kids or no kids, neither is a deal-breaker, it’s all fine and you can work it out together!

Y’know what, while I’m at it, here’s just the basic thought processes of all of them, just to give a little peek into their skulls on the matter...

Sans (Undertale): Kids are fun, doesn’t have any particularly strong desire to have one of his own, but he raised his kid brother for awhile and he knows it’s something he can do, if it’s what you want.

Papyrus (Undertale): Kids are great and he’d be a great parent, he just knows it! You’d be a great parent, too! ...But if that’s not what you want to do, then that’s okay. There’s plenty of other great things for you to do together in life!

Sky (Underswap Sans): Kids are wonderful, but raising his little brother solo after their dad disappeared... That was hard and he definitely wasn’t ready for the responsibility. It was a humbling experience and he refuses to commit to having kids of his own until he’s sure it’s something he sincerely, passionately wants.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): Feels awkward around kids, as a rule, and also kind of thinks of himself as a (mostly contained, at least) disaster of a skeleton. Is he ready for the responsibility of being in charge of a brand new being’s growth and development??? Not sure! Not sure at all!

Jasper (Underfell Sans): He likes kids alright... thinks about maybe having some of his own someday, the idea of a family is nice, in his head... but he definitely isn’t sure about the reality. Worries about if he’d be a good enough parent, or if his kids (if he were to have them) would resent him or just not like him. It’s a nice idea, but nothing’s set in stone for him.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Honestly never thought about it. Part of him fully expected to die Underground in some battle or other, or excepting that, he wouldn’t find a partner who’d want to be with him long-term, much less long enough that he could make a family with them. He’s not...explicitly opposed to it, but he also hasn’t given it a lot of thought at all. He’ll need time to sort out his feelings, whatever his partner’s opinions on potential kids are.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Terrified, petrified to have kids of his own. Being around them is...fine, but... He’s got a lot of issues tied up with his...parent... and having to be a pseudo-parent to his own brother at a very young age, it’s made him worry about repeating patterns and failing, hurting, damaging, or otherwise doing his own children a disservice, if he were to have them-- even as a grown and well-situated adult. If kids are something his partner really wants, they’ve got those insecurities to talk about with him for sure.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): He’s actually really good with kids, he relates to them well and always just talks to them like people, so of course they love him. But having his own... That, he’s not sure about. He’s definitely a little bit of a disaster, and still working on a lot of Adult Life Skills, and the thought of being in charge of a whole entire brand new person is more than a little scary. Not sure if he’s ready for that step--or if he’ll ever be!

Slate (Horrortale Sans): Loves kids, and loves the idea of a big family. He’s had more than enough death, life is very appealing to him and a full house honestly sounds wonderful. ...But he does have some memory issues, a dash of narcolepsy, and some hard, dissociative days that make him worry he might not be a very good parent. He’d do his best to do right by his kids if he ends up having them, of course he would, but if that’s just not in the cards for him, that wouldn’t be the end of the world. He’s the one who’d definitely want to bring in some furbabies if two-legged babies aren’t on the table, and he’d still be a very, very happy man!

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): He likes kids, but doesn’t have many strong feelings on having his own. He’d be alright either way his partner wanted to go-- as long as the two of them are together and safe and happy, he’s got everything he needs.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): Kids are fun, but honestly...oof. He’s got a chronic fatigue thing going on and keeping up with a kid for more than an hour or two at a time... he’s not sure he could hack it. Maybe he could, but that’s really something to think about before just diving in, y’know?

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): Very good with children! They’re so curious and bright and he loves that about them! He’s got a lot of nurturing, caretaker tendencies built right into his personality, so he’s a natural at looking after and corralling them. He’s easily flustered and moves slow in his romantic relationships, though, so there’s a long timeline before the ‘should we have kids’ talk is even on the table, plenty of chances to share thoughts and work out a gameplan, whether that’s yea or nay. If yea, wonderful! If nay, he’d probably be just as happy babysitting friends’ kids and being Cool Uncle Papyrus as having any of his own.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): It’s... a nice thought. But he definitely doesn’t trust himself enough to feel totally comfortable having kids of his own. He barely trusts himself in Polite Society some days, and he’d just be too worried about not being in control and hurting or scaring a little one, especially a little one of his own. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive himself if he made his own kid afraid of him. Plus memory issues, nightmares, (depending on his fluency at the time) a language barrier... So ‘no kids’ is...probably preferable, but if it’s something you really want... maybe start with an animal or two first? The ol’ practice-baby pet, see how it goes kinda deal, and move forward from there.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): Like his counterpart, never really thought about it much...but when he does, he decides he could go either way on it. If you’re not interested in kids, fine, that’s more time for just the two of you. If you are, well... he was literally a monarch that ruled over all of monsterkind, for a time--surely, he could manage to be a passingly decent parent, with you as his partner in the endeavor. He’ll take his cues from you as to whether it’s a yes or a no.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): His feelings haven’t really changed from pre-Famine. In fact, he’s probably more hesitant now, after so viscerally confronting the consequences of his own hasty decisions and having to face his own fallibility the way he did. The thought of being responsible for a whole small life is very nerve-wracking--especially if said proposed life is to be biologically his, because he really doesn’t know what the DT in his system (pre or post-integration) will pass on to theoretical next-of-kin, if anything at all. Maybe not a ‘never,’ but not a vigorous, enthusiastic ‘yes’ either, lots to think about...and maybe tests to run...

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): A couple years ago, he’d have been a little more in the ‘no’ camp, but now... He’s been through a lot. He’s struggling sometimes still, at least emotionally, but he made it, so y’know... maybe he’s capable of handling more than he thought he was. Still not a solid ‘yes’--he’s aware of his lack of filter and its tendency to cause hurt feelings, and he does like his peace and quiet, which kids are very much not conducive to, as a rule, so he’d have to put in some work and make some sacrifices-- but he’s no longer wholly a ‘no’ either. Depending on your own thoughts, there’s plenty of room to negotiate.

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): Kids are fine, he can handle them well enough, and even the thought of having his own doesn’t stress him out so much as it once did--he’s changed a lot, and been through a lot, taking a second crack at parenthood from a new perspective wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world--but he’s also not particularly interested in it. He likes his leisure time and his luxuries, and much as he’s sure he could find room in that to accommodate a child...he doesn’t see much of a reason to. He could be convinced, if it’s something that you really want, but he’d also stay childfree without a second thought to the matter.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): Good with kids, like his counterpart, but also a little more capable and confident in himself and his ability to get things done. So... having a kid might be a little intimidating for him, but he generally feels like he could probably figure it out... and a kid might be a nice outlet for some of his caretaking urges, and extra motivation to keep fighting his phobia, to make sure their childhood is good and doesn’t suffer from them having a dad who’s scared to go outside. He definitely likes the idea of someone to look after and to be better for, but if that’s not for you, he wouldn’t force the issue. Would maybe want a furbaby though, instead, probably special needs that not everybody could/would be able to take care of (like Dizzy!) to fill that niche.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): Kids are really cool and fun to hang out with--crazy little people, no filter, just running around, saying things, living life--they’re awesome, but he’s not totally sold on the idea of having his own. He does a lot of aimless life-living himself, and he feels like maybe that’s not the best thing for a kid. He doesn’t really have a career, he does things without a lot of planning, he goes places spontaneously, and... maybe that’s fun and exciting for a kid to be raised around, or maybe it’s unstable and harmful. He’s not really sure which and he probably doesn’t want to bring a kid into the mix until he knows. With a partner who’s a ‘yes’ on children and can help him co-parent and all that, sure, he’d probably be willing to give it a go. With one who’s a ‘no,’ that’s fine too, it’s a nonissue!

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): A little weird and stiff around kids, never totally sure how he’s supposed to talk to them or what he’s meant to say (especially when it comes to those things you’re supposed to lie to kids about, he’s very bad at that!!!), but he has nothing against children in general. As far as the idea of having his own... Well, if his partner wants to have kids, it wouldn’t be a no-- he’d just have to do a lot of research on the subject first, to feel more comfortable and to hopefully prepare, mentally, as much as one can ever prepare for this. After that, he’d be open to discuss and negotiate the matter with his partner from there, to sort out the logistics. With a partner who doesn’t want kids, though, he’d almost certainly never even bring it up on his own and honestly probably thinks of ‘childfree’ as the expected default rather than something quirky, nontraditional, or a deal-breaker.

[tngrace]

The Day the World Rocked on its Axis

This is probably the most personal thing I've ever written. There is so much personal background in it, and it felt so good to write even if I hurt Carlos. There may be a part 2 sometime later; still not sure.

Thank you @moviegeek03 for reading this for me and all your encouragement. 💙

Read on A03;

masterlist;

It Started at ACC series

Carlos was halfway through his rookie year on the force when his world was rocked. He and TK were going strong; life was good. He’d just come off a twelve hour shift, TK having gotten home right before him. He was just slipping into that really deep state when his phone started ringing. He was tempted to ignore it, but after one call hung up, it started ringing once more. He groans as he rolls over and grabs it. The name on the screen has him answering quickly. 

“Hola primo. Qué está mal?” ** Carlos asks worriedly. It’s not like his cousin to be calling him in the middle of the night. 

It’s so quiet for the longest Carlos is afraid the call has dropped. “Carlos, it’s Tonio.” 

Carlos sits straight up so fast it rouses TK. Carlos sucks in a breath before asking what’s wrong once more. TK can hear the panic in his voice which wakes him even more. He sits up beside Carlos and lets his hand drift to Carlos’s back to rub soothingly. 

“There…. There’s been a wreck. We… we need you.” 

“Where?” Miguel went quiet on him once more, and Carlos could feel the panic coursing through him. “Miguel where? Tell me where and I’ll be there.” 

“They’re going to take him to St. David’s South. They… they gotta get to them and get them out,” he manages to get out. 

“What do you mean?” Carlos questions gently as he gets up and starts dressing in the first thing he sees. 

“They… they were riding up around Pilot Knob. One of his friends called me. He got in the car with someone else, someone he didn’t know that well, but wanted to see what the car could do. The guy lost control, went off the road, hit a tree head on. You know how hard it is to get up there. They were towards the top, but they’re saying it’s bad, Carlitos.” 

“Ok. Ok i’m on my way. If they get him out before I get there, I'll meet you at the hospital. It’s going to be ok.”  

Carlos grabbed his badge just to be safe as he finishes dressing and gets off the phone with his cousin. He turns to tell TK what’s going on, but he finds his boyfriend already dressed and standing beside him. Carlos does his best not to cry right then. “Come on,” TK says gently, seeing Carlos try to hold back his emotions. Carlos squeezes TK’s hand as they lock up and get in the camaro. Carlos drives, just because he knows where he’s going. He’s speeding and he knows it, but he can’t help it. Miguel and Antonio were the closest thing he had to brothers all his life. They’ve always been close, always shared everything. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if one of them is gone. TK holds his hand the entire drive to the mountain; he wants to ask questions, wants to help, but he stays silent knowing Carlos will tell him when he’s ready. 

“That was my cousin Miguel on the phone,” he finally says when they’re about halfway there. “His younger brother Antonio was in a wreck. They… they’ve always been like my brothers. They’re my best friends,” he chokes off. TK squeezes his hand harder. 

“I’m here. Whatever you need,” TK tells him when Carlos can’t go on. Carlos squeezes back as he keeps driving. They head up the mountain, and they’re not far behind an ambulance. They’re stopped about halfway up the mountain and told the road is closed. Carlos flashes his badge and tells the officer it’s his family. “I’m sorry sir. I’m gonna advise y’all head back down.” The look in his eyes, TK knows; it’s not going to be good. 

“I’d rather not. I’d like to get to my family,” Carlos demands; the officer relents and lets them through. Carlos gets the car in park, and jumps out faster than TK can stop him. He rushes to his aunt and uncle and cousin’s side. EMTs are down the side of the mountain working, and Carlos is holding his breath. TK slowly joins his side, offering his support. They’re close enough to other officer’s to hear the call over the radio that it’s a recovery op now. TK feels Carlos go rigid beside him. “Carlos?” he whispers, but Carlos doesn’t respond. His body is taunt with anxiety as he turns to his family before another officer can deliver the news. “Tia, Tio….” his aunt and uncle look at him with wide eyes as he takes a deep breath to keep it together. “Come on,” he says as gently as possible trying to steer them back towards their cars. 

Miguel looks at Carlos with tear-filled eyes, and Carlos just gives him a nod. The most devastated no he’s ever heard leaves his cousin's lips as he tries to break for the side of the hill where the rescue team is working. Carlos reacts on instinct; he reaches out and grabs Miguel, wrapping him up in his arms and holding him tight. He talks to him in Spanish as TK is left to keep Carlos’s aunt and uncle back. “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs to them as Carlos does his best to comfort Miguel. It takes a while, but Carlos is eventually able to steer Miguel away from the hillside. He guides him and his aunt and uncle to their truck. He gives TK the keys to the camaro; “Follow us?” he asks him softly as Miguel helps his distraught parents into the truck. 

“Of course,” TK promises, giving Carlos a soft kiss and a tight hug. 

Carlos gets in the truck on autopilot; he heads for the hospital knowing they’ll take Antonio there regardless. The only sound in the truck the whole way is the cries of his aunt. They end up staying at the hospital until the morning; they finally got official confirmation of death about seven am, and Carlos had to dissuade his aunt and uncle from seeing his cousin. He knew they wanted to, hell he wanted, but he knew now was not the time, not fresh from the wreck. Carlos drives them back to the ranch to his own parents. The rest of the family shows up before lunch; tears are shed, hugs are given, stories are told quietly, and the whole time Carlos is stoic, emotions carefully concealed. TK stays with him the whole time, refusing to leave. Carlos appreciates it more than he can express. 

The next few days are hard. There’s arrangements to be made, most of the family takes up residence at the ranch, his aunt and uncle staying with his parents. Miguel needs him more than anything, and Carlos does his best to be there every minute for him. He holds himself together every day, and at night when TK is asleep, he lets a few silent tears fall until he gets a few restless hours of sleep. 

He calls in a favor to his training officer the day they make arrangements after seeing Antonio at the funeral home. He knows the news has gotten out that he’s taken personal days for the funeral, but he has to know what the accident report says after hearing all the funeral home completed for an open casket service. Luckily his TO is a friend of his dad’s, and despite advising Carlos against reading it, he sends the full unedited accident report to Carlos’s email. The day before the funeral, TK had to work so he could be off for the funeral, and Carlos waits until then to open the email. Carlos promised him that he would be fine, and TK made him promise to call if he wasn’t. Carlos of course didn’t call, but TK wasn’t surprised. He reads over the report more times than he should’ve. The accompanying pictures are the hardest thing he’s ever looked at, but they tell the story more than the report. The images are ingrained in his brain, and he knows his aunt and uncle will have the option to receive copies of all this. He wants to do his best to dissuade them from getting it. No one should have to see the gruesome scene he just studied; the car in the tree, the way the seats were displaced one on top of the other, the blood splatter and the lifeless bodies encased within. It was too much, but he had to know.  

TK didn’t know Carlos had requested the report or that he’d even looked at it. So he was surprised to get home that night and find Carlos curled up in the corner of the shower sobbing. “Oh babe.” It came out almost as a whine, his pain for Carlos evident. He dropped his bag, kicking off his shoes, and climbing straight into the shower with Carlos. He sank to the ground pulling Carlos into his arms. “It’s ok. I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he whispers over and over, rocking side to side as he cradled Carlos to him. It took several minutes and several stuttering hiccuping breaths before Carlos started to calm down. TK had no idea how long he’d been like that before he got home, but the water was still mostly warm so he figured it couldn’t have been too long.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos whispered as he pulled back and scrubbed at his face. 

“No. No. You have nothing to apologize for. You needed this.” TK lets his hand card through Carlos’s wet curls. “You’ve been so strong for everyone else. You need to let yourself grieve too.” 

Carlos gives him a short nod as he scrubs harder at his face. He knows TK is right, but he also hates that TK has to see him like this. “Hey. It’s ok to hurt and feel what you’re feeling. It’s ok to let me see that too. I’m here for you. I love you and nothing is going to change that,” TK reiterates as he pulls Carlos’s hands away from his face. He pulls Carlos close once more as Carlos loses it again. He can’t seem to stop the tears. He’s not sure how life is supposed to go on without one of his best friends, without the first person he came out to, without one of the few people who support him no matter what. TK barely holds back his own tears as Carlos sobs his heart out in his arms. 

When the water turns cold, TK eases Carlos up and helps him out of the shower. His tears have dried, but he’s clinging to TK like he’s the only thing holding him up. TK gets a towel around him as he strips his wet clothes before wrapping a towel around himself. “Come on. I got ya,” TK says quietly as he dries Carlos off before leading him to bed. He gets him tucked in before drying himself. Once he makes sure the house is all locked up, he climbs in bed pulling Carlos in as close as possible. 

Carlos has worn himself out, but before he falls asleep he whispers; “I read the report. I requested it and got it. I just… I had to know.”  

“Oh babe,” TK whimpers as he tightens his hold on Carlos. “Oh Carlos. It’s ok,” TK whispers over and over not really knowing what to say to that. He knows that had to be hard; he knows Carlos probably shouldn’t have seen it, but he knows if he’d been in Carlos’s shoes, he’d want to know too. It’s not long after that little confession that Carlos drifts off from exhaustion. TK is thankful he took tomorrow off to go with him; he knows the coming days, months, years even are going to be hard, but he will be there for it all. Whatever Carlos needs, TK is going to be there. 

 

** “Hello cousin. What is wrong?”

[rivkael]

Hi, I'm sending this to you because you're one of the few major soft Illidan fans I know of; it occurred to me recently that without the well, Illidan likely would have withered. And that just sucker punches me in the gut. That connection is never made in canon (that I know of) and I really wish we could have gotten a moment where Malfurion or Tyrande realize what they almost condemned him to instead of the shitty reactions to the messages.

FUN FACT I WROTE A SHORT FANFIC ON THE TOPIC

@apocketsizedace helped!!!

Craving

He can scarcely believe that the Legion was gone. The nightmare has ended and the Well has been destroyed in the process-...

Malfurion takes a deep breath and clasps his hands. In the few days since the destruction, they’ve all felt the cravings begin. Some worse than others, but every kaldorei has been affected.

He worries for Illidan. The mages had it by far the worse from what he’s witnessed, and Illidan hasn’t been seen since they worked together to destroy the Well. Their bond is held fast, and he is unable to get any idea of even how Illidan is. The only thing he knows is that his brother is alive.

He needs to search for him, but he is the leader of the druidic school and he has to look after his students. The magical addiction runs deep through all their veins. All need his support.

His hands shake.

And then the barriers in Illidan’s mind slip. Not intentionally, but because he is tired and ill. Malfurion reaches out slowly, not wanting to scare his brother into throwing his walls back up and making himself sicker.

Little brother?

Illidan’s returning Big brother is a relief and a worry. How ill is his twin?

Safe? He sends quickly, walking to seat himself somewhere more private.

Sick/lost/tired… is the worrying answer. They cannot quite communicate using words, but Illidan’s nausea is tangible through their bond. He worries even more now, Illidan isn’t even being looked after like he had guessed. He’s alone somewhere struggling with a terrifying withdrawal sickness.

Where could Illidan be?

He thinks back to the Well, to their parting of ways. All of that has sunk beneath the ocean, the land parting in the wake of destruction.

Big brother? It’s pleading, calling. Malfurion doesn’t resist, walking into the forest of Hyjal, out of the vague camp boundaries and into the wilderness.

He follows the call for an hour, perhaps two, before he comes upon a rocky cliff face. Burrowed into a shallow crevice against the cliff face, he finds Illidan.

Soaked in sweat and shaking, curled up in a ball and with skin leached of healthy colour, Illidan looks awful. He doesn’t react when Malfurion approaches, head tucked down behind his arm and half-coated in hair.

“Illidan?”

“Mal?” The croaked response as Illidan tries to push himself up is painful to watch. It’s clear he has no strength in his body at all.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Malfurion murmurs, crouching down to push Illidan’s hair from his face. “Goddess, Illidan… why did you not let me find you sooner?”

“S’nothing-...” Illidan pauses to cough. “Nothing you can do ‘bout it.” He tries to pull himself from the crevice and Malfurion hurries to help him, supporting most of Illidan’s weight as he gets him out in the moonlight.

“I’ve been easing the pain of multiple mages since the destruction of the Well,” Malfurion says with a sigh. “I know how to help.” He places a hand on Illidan’s damp forehead and channels some druidic healing magic, soothing aching muscles and calming the obvious headache.

Illidan slumps against him with a sigh of relief. He stays there for some long moments and Malfurion wishes he could do more. He knows Illidan has more than just addiction troubling him- his eyes, for one.

He reaches up to tidy Illidan’s hair again, and in the process runs a finger over the blindfold. It’s damp with sweat, and he sighs. “May I remove this?”

His dark-haired twin shrinks somehow in his hold and doesn’t speak for a long moment. Then, “Okay.” It isn’t comforting.

Malfurion nudges Illidan’s head forward and carefully unknots the blindfold, shaking out the fabric and then handing it to his brother. Then he looks up-

“Oh, little brother,” he reaches up to run a fingertip over the burn scars. They’re deep and layered and barely healed over, the way a wound gets when it keeps getting injured again and again. The felfire eyes - the cause of the deep scarring - aren’t intimidating, just another reminder of how Illidan’s been torn apart by the world.

Ironic, considering he’s part of the cause of the Sundering.

He wants to weep for Illidan. Instead he takes a pouch from his belt and pulls a clean bandage from it. He then (with his brother’s assent) re-wraps Illidan’s eyes with a cleaner, drier material. “There.”

Illidan has barely said a word while the blindfold is off, shoulders pulled in, but Malfurion recognises the defensive tilt to his head and chooses to not comment on the eyes. Instead he touches Illidan’s forehead, then his cheek, then his neck. “Have you vomited?”

Illidan shakes his head tiredly and then coughs again.

His brother is feverish and his heart rate is faster than normal. All of these are symptoms Malfurion has seen over the past days but never this severe. Especially considering the cough.

“I should get you back,” he mutters, half to himself. “Can you stand?”

It turns out that Illidan can stand, supported, but he can barely walk. Malfurion instead lifts Illidan up, it’s easier on all of them, and turns to follow his trail back.

One interesting thing folk don’t often know about druids is that they are excellent trackers. Their sense of direction is impeccable, especially in a wooded area. This is because of the plants around them, and the way their energies move. It’s very complicated but the long and the short of it is that Malfurion makes it back with no trouble, despite the fact that he hadn’t known where he was going when he left.

Illidan has worsened over the journey but only slightly, and when Malfurion makes it back he lays his brother in a cot in the medical wing. A few other cots are also taken but most of the druids are hardly affected, untouched by the arcane as they are.

Malfurion takes a seat beside Illidan and rests a hand upon his brother’s forehead again, healing him of his pain temporarily and then beginning the slow process of calming his immune system. He doesn’t want his twin getting another illness on top of this.

“-Mal-,” Illidan whines, shivering. “C-cold…”

“Okay, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tugging the blankets up and over his brother’s form. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here,”

()

Illidan doesn’t ever really learn to deal with the cold that has settled in his bones. He wraps himself in cloaks and drowses beside warm fires because he’s so empty and cold.

He and the other mages become the tragic martyrs in Tyrande’s campaign against all things Arcane. Him most of all, the best and brightest now permanently ill and struggling.

None of them has been able to cast a single arcane spell. Illidan can control some fire magic, but his mana pool is pitiful.

He’s constantly weak, constantly ill, constantly cold. He’s had to move back in with Malfurion because there are days on end where he needs someone to help him around the house.

He cries and rages but none of it changes his reality. It was for the good of Azeroth, to stop the Legion.

He regrets it now, during dark nights when he can’t climb from his bed without pain. He regrets everything.