#on the other i have this legacy where two generations of my mother's side lived through dictatorships.

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

im always reminded of that one tweet that explained, the power of dictatorships is less about enforcing laws and being successful in censoring the shit out of you, but about enforcing the most ridiculous shit on earth, mud-stuck-on-wall degree of shit, the kind everyone with two braincells is aware is shit and ridiculous and hysterical, and enforcing it succesfully. its not about whether a state truly believes in their policies or their mission, its not even about whether they believe (and care about) that the public, the citizens, believe it. its about enforcing, and enforcing it successfully. its about the fact that they know you know and can still do it. thats the power.

[lauri-rosehearts]

Its been a while since I’ve actually sat down to discuss EAH lore or anything EAH related in general. I got a good amount of promps but right now I wanted to focus on one that was submitted to me by @birdbombs714 regarding my thoughts on Alistair and Lizzie’s relationship

Thank you so much for this idea! And happy birthday! (Edit: Where I live it’s already almost 1am so in my time zone, it’s technically the day after as I’m posting this so I’m a bit late. I’m so Sorry. I meant to post this sooner 😭) Thought I’d dedicate this one to you as a little gift if you will! Hope you enjoy :)

Something I find really interesting regarding Alistair and Lizzie in general is the fact that they’re one of very few “future villain and hero” duos that dont seem to have any sort of tense relationship. On the contrary, all the wonderlandians seem to have been good friends from a very young age. But as the characters destined to be the next Alice and the next Queen of Hearts, its very refreshing seeing these two just being friends with no real hard feelings towards each other. Like it honestly makes me wonder what kind of relationship their moms had.

You know I love going into the parents lore when it can provide an expansion on the children’s lore so lets talk about Alice and the Queen of Hearts real quick, both in the context of EAH and in the Alice in wonderland story. In the context of EAH, I don’t think they were ever super close friends like Alistair and Lizzie, but I do think they had a good deal of respect for each other even before committing to their stories. There never seems to be any implication that Lizzie’s mom hated Alistairs mom, which I actually find quite fitting given their characterization in the original story. What’s interesting about their dynamic in the original Alice in wonderland story is the fact that their dynamic isn’t really influenced by something personal like a good amount of fairytale hero and villain duos (for example: Snow White and the Evil Queen). Instead, it’s influenced by the fact that Alice finds herself in a place where all rules and logic work differently, hence why she runs into so many weird and frustrating misunderstandings with the characters. The Queen of Hearts is a temperamental tyrant whose bad side is very easy to get on given the amount of people she executes for petty reasons. Alice just so happens to especially gets on her bad side for the simple reason that Alice doesn’t know how to navigate the logic of the world shes in, and as a result she accidentally does and says things that go against the logic and customs of wonderland and as a result, especially piss off the Queen.

With that said, lets talk about how this translates over to Lizzie and Alistair. I’ve talked about this in the past, but I wholeheartedly subscribe to the theory that the reason Alistair’s last name is “Wonderland” instead of “Liddel” like Alice in the original story, is because during the Evil Queen’s takeover, Alice probably either disappeared or died (this is also potentially supported by the fact that we see all of the wonderlandians’ parents at some point with the exception of Alice), and so, Alistair was sort of co-parented and raised by all the other wonderlandians parents in Wonderland. And so, they renamed him from “Alistair Liddel” to “Alistair Wonderland” as a sort of tribute to both his mother and the world. We know Alistair canonically grew up in Wonderland unlike his mother, so he’s used to the logic and customs of the place despite the narrative of his story’s legacy saying otherwise. He quite literally grew up around Lizzie and the others and I actually attribute this to Lizzies relationship to her destiny. We know from her bio information that while she wants to follow her destiny, Lizzie wants to be a less villainous, kinder Queen of Hearts than her mom, and even then it’s implied her mom wasn’t actually that bad and became a lot more temperamental as a result of the wonderland curse (hence why I also think in the context of EAH, Alice and the Queen of Hearts didn’t dislike each other that much. ). Because Alistair and her were raised right alongside the other wonderlandians, Lizzie has no reason to dislike Alistair the way the Queen of Hearts does to Alice in the original story. On the contrary, she considers him one of her closest friends. Obviously, she probably has other reasons, but her friendship with Alistair is probably one reason she wants to be more lenient in her future reign.

That analysis aside, I definitely think they’re just friends, nothing romantic. I know some people ship them but I personally prefer Lizzie with Maddie and Kitty over anything. Also this is a 100% on the writers but when compared to Lizzie, Kitty, and Maddie, Alistair and especially Bunny’s characterization suffers pretty greatly, I feel. Mainly because most of their individual screentime is dedicated to their romantic feelings for each other, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing but the way their relationship is portrayed frustrates me so much so I don’t really pay much attention to it. As a result though, it makes shipping Alistair with anyone else in his friend group also really hard, because when compared to someone like Lizzie who has a lot of development, he doesn’t feel as fleshed out, yknow. This isn’t Alistair slander, its just my personal view. When thinking of the 5 wonderlandians as a group, I think of them as a sort of found family more than anything. And as far as romantic shipping goes, I mainly focus on Lizzie, Kitty, and Maddie as a sort of poly relationship. But anything is valid as long as its not illegal, obviously.

I apologize if this feels really unorganized and convoluted but I had a lot of thoughts and I was trying my best to fit them in this post in a way that felt correlated 😭. But anyway, I don’t talk about Lizzie that often even though shes my favorite wonderland and overall right up there in my top 5 favorite characters in Ever After High so this enabled me to talk about her a pretty good bunch ❤️

[mindofnebula]

Strange and Unusual Legacy Challenge - Occult/Normal Sims4

A lot of this is not my own. I added little bits and pieces but MAJORITY BELONG TO ASPHODEL AND SAMTASTIC. #ASPHODELOCCULTLEGACY AND #DIFFERENCESINTHEFAMILYTREE THEY ARE THE CREATORS

Again this is not mine I just combined the two of them because I thought they both complemented each other and added little things here and there

____________________________________________________________

Rules:

No cheats

Choose the heir by any means you want unless rules state otherwise.

Feel free to skip any objectives you find tedious/boring. This is supposed to be fun

____________________________________________________________

Generation 1: Archeologist (inspired by #asphodeloccult legacy and samtastic-sims.tumblr.com)

Your family has always loved nature and it has had a great influence on you, but you found yourself craving more. You moved to a little cottage where it had history, however, it has more than just history within the walls and the walls talk.

Aspiration: Archaeology Scholar

Traits: gloomy, Self Assured, Adventurous

Career: Paranormal investigator

Rules:

Color theme – purple

Live in – Henford on Bagley

Spouse – Yes

Children – Human – no limit

Max out skills: Medium, Archaeology, Selvadoradian Culture

Other: Be friends with Guidry, Holiday in Selvadorada & discover its historical secrets, Summon Bonehilda, donate to charity once a week, have a dog.

Generation 2: Werewolf (inspired by #asphodeloccult legacy)

You wanted nothing more than to leave behind the home that constantly needed TLC and the unwanted house guests. You craved peace, quiet, and a true family unit, not some parent who was too absorbed with things beyond this world. You move to a small home in the forest, away from everyone where you can live your own life. Your parent noted there might be other beings, werewolves among them, and they suspected they were in this area. A wolf pack supports each other, maybe this is exactly what you need.

Aspiration: werewolf initiate

Traits: Loner, Family-Oriented, Loyal

Career: Detective or Odd jobs only

Rules:

Color theme – brown

Live in – Moonwood Mill

Spouse – Yes

Children – Mix of humans and werewolves – no limit

Max skills: Fishing, Charisma, Parenting

Other: Beat Greg in a fight, Bite and turn at least two people into a werewolves, see to it that your kids all max at least one skill before each age transition.

Generation 3: Chef (inspired by samtastic-sims.tumblr.com)

Coming from a big family meant big family meals with each other and with you all being werewolves it meant LOTS of food had to be made. Your love of food and love of cooking with your family in the kitchen inspired you to open your own restaurant. You’ve always liked creating new things with your own two hands. Crafting & Baking were favorites of yours and you wanted to share your creations with the world.

Aspiration: Master Chef

Traits: Foodie, Cheerful, Overachiever

Career: Culinary career, chef branch OR Food critic

Rules:

Color theme – Dark Grey

Live in – Sab Myshuno

Spouse – Yes

Children – Yes – 6

Max skills: Cooking, Gourmet, baking

Other: Discover all food stall recipes in city living (optional), open a small café/baker/restaurant on the side, and once successful you can quit your main career, attend every spice festival, have to pets

Generation 4: Spellcaster (inspired by #asphodeloccult legacy and samtastic-sims.tumblr.com)

Watching your parent cook was something magical. You tried cooking like them but you just didn’t have the talent for it. While looking for another recipe book your mother wrote you stumbled upon something else. Notes your great-grandparent wrote about the paranormal. You knew there were other werewolves and vampires but this book detailed even more than that. Among them were witches and wizards, those who would bend reality to their will. This documented that most were in Glimmerbrook, were they still there and what else might they discover?

Aspiration: Spellcraft & Sorcery

Traits: Bookworm, Perfectionist, Erratic

Career: Self-Employed

Rules:

Color theme – Red

Live in – Glimmerbrook

Spouse – Yes -must be social media famous

Children – Yes – 1 only

Max skills: Gemology

Other: become a master spellcaster, visit the Sylvan Glade, Elope with your spouse, have 3 cats, learn all the spells and have a familiar, Make & drink immortal potion, make sure your child joins and gets to the top of the drama club.

Generation 5: Famous (inspired by samtastic-sims.tumblr.com and #asphodeloccult legacy)

After seeing your parent work hard on social media you craved the glitz and glam of Hollywood. For generations, everyone in your family has been successful and unique. You feel like everything has been accomplished in your family but the magic lingering in your blood and the stories you hear of your great lineage give you enough confidence to know you are destined for great things. However things change when you capture the attention of a vampire.

Aspiration: Master Actor Aspiration and then World famous celebrity

Traits: Self absorbed, High Maintenance, Ambitious

Career: Acting

Rules:

Color theme – Yellow

Live in – Mansion in Del Sol Valley

Spouse – No – Have Heir with a vampire

Children – Human or vampire

Max skills: Charisma, Acting

Other: Get a drama degree, get/accept an award, have a pristine reputation, learn strangeify/morphiate spells and when ever a celebrity on a community lot takes the attention away from you, use those spells on them.

Generation 6: Vampire (inspired by and #asphodeloccult legacy)

You have ancestors that hold power on both sides of your family. Born a creature of the night, you struggle to find your own way with paparazzi and the public watching your every move. You’re taken under the wing of your vampire parent and moved to Forgotten Hollow, at least here you’ll find peace. They train you up to become head vampire, with you recording the process every step of the way, for future generations of vampires. Writer or the next Vampire tome? I think so.

Aspiration: Master Vampire

Traits: Snob, Materialistic, Evil

Career: Writer - Author

Rules:

Color theme – Black

Live in – Forgotten Hollow

Spouse – Players Choice

Children – Yes – Heir must be human – No limit

Max skills: Vampire Lore, Writing, Pipe Organ, Violin

Other: Turn 3 sims into Vampires, Have the heir learn pipe organ or violin but ignore them once they become teenagers, create a coven (vampire club), have a black cat

Generation 7: Lover (inspired by samtastic-sims.tumblr.com)

Your parents always seemed to always be in your parent’s shadow but never a priority. So you decided to go down your own path and experience the world in a more unconventional way. Better than remaining in a home with no sunlight. Music was the only thing your parent taught you so you hold it close to your heart. Because of the dysfunction, you look for love in all the wrong places.

Aspiration: Serial Romantic

Traits: Bro, Noncommittal, Romantic

Career: Mixologist

Rules:

Color theme – Pink

Live in – Windenburg

Spouse – Yes – Marry due to accidental pregnancy (the first person they get pregnant by)

Children – Yes – at least 2 children from different partners (any one could be the heir)

Max skills: Mixology, Dj skill

Other: Cheat on your spouse(s), follow through on all whims to break up, no exceptions. Host a gold-rated house party, Attend a romance festival, Play at clubs, Date two sims at the same time, and break their hearts.

Generation 8: Mermaid (inspired by #asphodeloccult legacy and samtastic-sims.tumblr.com)

Seeing your parent jump from relationship to relationship made you vow to never be like them. You want to have a meaningful relationship, you want to find the inner peace that you know your parent is still searching for. While on vacation you found a bit of peace hearing the wave crash on the shore. You move to the Sulani where you create a life free of stress, while searching for food one day you find a mysterious kelp you can use in your soup. Thinking it’s safe to eat you find yourself…different. With your newfound abilities you try to help the environment and make things better in Sulani.

Aspiration: Beach Life

Traits: Child of the Ocean, Child of the island, Active

Career: Conservationist Marine Biology

Rules:

Color theme – Green

Live in – Sulani

Spouse – Yes

Children – Yes – Human – at least 2

Max skills: Fitness, Logic, wellness

Other: Become a mermaid, Have a group of best friends who you do yoga with once a week, never harm fish, must befriend a dolphin, use charmers lullaby at least 3 times. Woohoo in the waterfall, befriend your evil grandparent to find out why your parents are the way they are.

Generation 9: Musical (inspired by samtastic-sims.tumblr.com)

The music of your parent’s voice lingers in your heart. It might have been that creative gene or the nurturing parents because your talent seems to have surpassed even a mermaid. Playing the guitar has always been how you express yourself and you even accompanied your parent while they sung. Your dream of being a famous musician one day and showing everyone that music is the key to anyone’s soul.

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Traits: Music Lover, Art lover, Dance Machine

Career: Entertainer, Musician Branch

Rules:

Color theme – Blue

Live in – Sab Myshuno

Spouse – Yes

Children – Yes – Human – at least 3 – 1 with a groupie that will be your heir

Max skills: Guitar, Piano, Singing (optional)

Other: Get the mix master music station, release at least 3 tracks and get some fans, get 3 fame stars, have/get a tattoo, learn all songs on guitar, start a band club. Have an affair with a groupie (someone that has tipped you)

Generation 10: Ghost

(inspired by #asphodeloccult legacy)

Your childhood wasn’t particularly eventful, in fact, it was quite dull, and you hated it. You went nowhere, and saw hardly anyone.. in fact, you hardly ever saw outside, especially in the daytime. The minute you were old enough to spread your wings and fly the bat cave you did. You love to travel and you love to see the world, you love to explore, you love the arts, and you get bored rather easily…. You are also rather clumsy so… be careful yeah?

Aspiration: Anything that has not already been completed in this challenge

Traits: Clumsy, Goofball, Loves Outdoors

Career: As many as you want

Rules:

Color theme – White

Live in – Multiple places, never stay put for too long

Spouse – No

Children – No

Max skills: Archaeology, Painting, Mixology

Other: no friends until young adulthood, attempt all potentially fatal activities, live with someone at all times, attempt to climb Mt.Komerebi, Make and drink beetle juice cocktail.

[octopiys]

I wanted to publish the story here as it's become something I've loved writing so far :)

Find the desc. here

The Terrible Fire of Old Regret (It's Honey on My Tongue)

Pairings: SoapGhost, GazRoach

Word count: good question

Cw: blood/violence, minor death, lots of world building, allusions to Ghost's backstory

The day was cooling as the sun set, casting orange across the kingdom. He could see it from his frosted over window, in the tallest tower that he had insisted on staying in. It was his favorite place, his favorite perch, the cold cobblestone placed by builders belonging to kings from centuries past. Horse drawn carriages dotted the town, tiny lights that moved in and out of the castle's stone walls.

The wind blew through the tops of the trees, twisting the smoke from stacked chimneys down in the village, people doting about in long skirts, or tied up pants, retreating into the calm warmths of their cottages.

The baker to his bakery that smelled like sugar and bread.

The weaponsmith to his home of metalworking, to a wife who was as equally enthusiastic.

The knights to their quarters, letting their swords down, leaving the polishing for the morning.

The tapestries here were that woven by his mother, a Lady past, lost to illness in the young years of plague. It was a nasty thing, that clouded and bubbled like a swarm of enraged wasps. It was not only his mother who shared these tapestries, some belonged to another woman, torn gone to battle. She was a soldier, or at least, under a guise, leaving behind a son only a few years older than he.

His name was Kyle, but John called him Gaz. It was a childish nickname, with a story too long to tell, but it was simpler this way. They had grown up together, under the Ladies and Lordships of the King, but in the span of two years, their lives changed.

Kyle had just turned four, starting to drive his mother up the wall. Like his father, she had charged off into the war, one started long ago from the eastern european waves of the Umbra Comitatu. She was lost in a fight they knew they wouldn't have won from the start. She was a Lady very close to the King, and he had sworn to her dying breath to take care of her son, who was waiting in his cottage for parents who would never return.

It was not a known fact that King Johnathan Price could not have children. It often skipped a few generations, but he knew the issues. It was not because he didn't have a queen by his side, he was above that. But there were some ins and outs that he had taken. With His Ladyship's passing, the King stayed true to his word, taking in her young son, Kyle. This solved half of his issue of having an heir, and being able to pass on his knowledge and legacy to another.

Underneath King Johnathan's wing, lay a different, equally strange boy.

John was very young, maybe one, almost two, when the plagues had come and stolen his mother from him. Another trusted Lady in the King's cabinet, but she was no soldier. Instead, she was far from it, specializing in the arts. She had an eye for detail, coming in handy with cartography, but she spent her days specializing in weaving. Magnificent works of hers dotted the walls of the castle where they had stayed. Her very soul had been woven into the cloths of drapes, cloaks, carpets, or other royal items. She was known across the kingdom for it. And she had left behind a son with no father to his name.

While Kyle had taken after his mother in swordsmanship, the younger son, John, with an equally stupid nickname of Soap, had taken up artistry. Now, he had no hand for weaving, couldn't get himself to focus enough to stay still, but he had a very delicate eye for detail. He involved himself more in sketches, drawings and paintings, that kind of artwork, but that did not mean he wasn't skilled in other fields.

When you are the King's sons, he trains you to be the best. And you are the best.

Just above his private guard that he had dubbed the One-Four-One.

Soap never really knew why it was called that. Maybe it had something to do with ranks and numbers, or the certain kinds of people inducted into the knightly force. He didn't understand it. But he loved to watch the soldiers train beneath his window, how they sparred against each other, bloodthirsty and ruthless, yet not drawing a single scratch beneath the armor of their opposition. It was mesmerizing.

The clang of swords against another, the dull thunk of fists against leather, the sounds of battle enthralled him. While Gaz, his brother, was more interested in the actual battle, Soap took up a different skill.

A new development on the horizon, something that King Price had gotten his hands on early. Gunpowder.

Soap had discovered that when you set fire to it....

God, it was wonderful.

That's what actually set him into his father's good graces.

"You're zonin' out again, Soap, chin up." Gaz threw a pillow at him, snapping the man out of his thoughts.

"Ayeeee fock off fer once, Gaz, ah swear, ye can never mind yer own-" Soap threw the pillow back at him without noticing the door had opened, and the pillow smacked the King across the face. It fell limply as the boys scrambled to their feet.

"Sh- Sorry, Father, we didn't see you come in." Gaz tried to cover for him and Soap did his best to agree. Price frowned, and discarded it, kicking the pillow away.

"Boys... I'm not sure what I expected." The King's low voice grumbled as he looked around their room.

Two beds sat at opposite ends of the room, large wooden posts stretching from the floor at each corner of the bed, barely missing the high ceilings. The beds themselves were curtained in red velvet, a royal color, emblazoned with the royal family crest, something they had come to accept as their own. Their room was actually pretty messy, clothes strewn about from a trunk that Gaz was desperately trying to pack. In the morning, he and Price would travel to their soldiers to give a bit of an energy boost.

The war had turned wayside a fortnight ago, when the rain had slicked the mud too far down, locking the enemy in the high ground. They had lost many men to the waves of arrows fired from places they couldn't see or reach. The King had only returned yesterday to retrieve Kyle, and head out again.

The mood slipped from in between their fingers quicker than watery dirt, more oily than blood, as Price scratched his beard, scraggly and unshaven.

"We're leaving at dawn, son. I thought you'd be more prepared than...." His eyes scanned the room once more. "This."

Gaz's face went hot with embarrassment. "Yes sir, I was almost done, but- er- Johnny was helpin' me reorganize, sir, you know, to get more room-"

"I was! Gotta- gotta fit in those.... maps...." Soap internally punched himself for speaking up, but still stood at attention as the sunset blinded him.

Price sighed, weary with loss and exhaustion, but he didn't question it. Soap noticed then that the King was still wearing his uniform, splattered with mud around the boots, and many dark stains that he didn't want to imagine the grief that sank into the fabric. Johnny tugged at the end of his sleeve anxiously. A loose thread. Unravel.

Unravel.

Unraveling.

"Johnny!" Gaz snapped on front of his face and wideyed, Soap looked back up.

"Sorry- what-?"

"Did you not-" Price groaned into his fist before cooling it off. "Tomorrow you meet with Lady Laswell to discuss your duties in our absence. I fear we may be gone longer than we wish, and I want you to be prepared for anything. Can you handle that?"

Johnny nodded, puffing out his chest, like he was bigger than he actually was. More to be proud of. "Of course, sir."

Price tipped his head, a smile crossed his face, the first gentle thing in weeks. "I expect you to see us depart in the morning." He looked between the two of them. There was a deep emotion in his eyes, shrouded in shadow and blood.

It was pride and fondness, he'd realize later, that filled the thick silence, seeping from the King himself. There was a final nod of his head, and Price adjusted his hat. "Good night, boys."

"Good night, Father."

"Fare thee well, Dad!"

Price paused in the door, giving him an odd look. Soap just happily waved in response.

The door shut with a slight slam, as doors did back then.

Johnny was suddenly hit in the face with a pillow. Again.

"You dumbass, this is why I do the talking!! Now I'm gonna be scolded the entire ride there, Soap, why-" Gaz collapsed face first onto his bed, still grumbling to himself.

"Buzz off ye prick! At least ye get to go somewhere!" He tossed a couple things into the case.

"But maps? Maps!? That's the best you got!?" Gaz turned around, pushing himself out of his warm covers to finish packing his things.

"Maps are important, Kyle!" He threw a wad of paper at the man for good measure.

The morning came too quick.

Soap was unprepared. Gaz was not.

The older prince was already up and dressed by the time Johnny came to, pulling himself out of his restless slumber.

He wore a sage green top beneath his armor, the family crest riding on his breastplate. His pants were checkered, two different shades of brown, thick enough fabric that the illnesses of the battlefield wouldn't attach themselves to him as he set foot down. Was his hair neat enough? Did his hair have to be neat for battle? He didn't think so. It was too late, anyways.

The sun was rising.

"Johnny!" Gaz hissed. "Wake up!"

"'M awake, I am-!" Soap insisted, sitting up and almost falling out of bed in the process. "What....?"

Gaz tossed a shirt at him. "Get dressed, I think we're supposed to be in the courtyard already, we gotta go! Help me with my trunk-"

"Shite, hold on-" Soap stumbled out of bed, tugging on a shirt, and a hopefully decent pair of shorts. Trying to step into both of his shoes, he grabbed one end of the trunk. "C'mon, help me out!"

Gaz lifted the other end, and the brothers staggered out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, they had gotten it loaded up into the carriage, and now they waited on Price in silence. They dare not look at one another, their fear of sudden loss paralyzing.

Not once in twenty two years had the brothers been separated. Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely true, he means separated to this extent. No contact. Looming threat of danger and death, with a risk too great to comprehend.

Now of course, it could go completely fine. But they've seen enough to know that they wouldn't scrape by unscathed. Fate had too much on their shoulders, like the sky of Atlas, bearing down to force them to hold it.

The castle doors opened, and out walked the King. Guards stood at attention, and even the Sons stiffened in alert. He had worn his deep blue overcoat, hidden beneath the sheen and shine of his silver plated armor. His sword hung on a high belt at his side, the Price crest branded into the center of his chestplate. He wore no crown, a man, a soldier, with only titled above that. Titles were no savior in the face of an enemy, only more words that delayed your inevitable downfall by seconds.

You could tell by his stature that he was royal. Knightly, at least, his aura was powerful, confident. Unwavering, just like his loyalty. The king was a man of his word. He'd never leave one behind.

He stopped in front of his two sons, like he was taking in the sight. It was a somber experience, and Soap's heart was heavy with fears and sorrows he did not dare let escape the cavity of his chest.

His heels crunched on the rocks and gravel beneath them as he approached Soap first.

In a sharp move, the King had wrapped both arms around him in a proud embrace. Johnny fought to hide the tremor in his hands as he reached to return the gesture.

"Father-" His voice wavered and he swallowed nervously. The heated feeling in his stomach that twisted his intestines into knots was worse today than usual. Anxiety. Doubt. He hated it.

"Don't worry, son. We'll be back before the stress of the throne turns ya grey." Price whispered, giving him a rightful thump on the back.

"Ah'm not gonnae turn grey, old man. Ye take yer chances with it first." Johnny returned with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. The sun had barely crossed the horizon now.

Price took a few steps back. "Kyle, this is Sergeant Gary Sanderson. He's one o' the few soldiers we're taking with us. He'll be with you when I won't be. I trust you'll get to know 'im well." At his introduction, a soldier around their age stepped forward with a bow of his head.

He had brown hair that darkned at the root, with a crooked smile, and pale green eyes. The most noticeable thing about him was the jagged, forked scar that ran across his face, starting at the center of his cheek, drifting across his nose, dipping into his eyebrow, and settling beneath his eye. It was like some beast had raked a claw across his face, and Sanderson had don't no better to mind.

His eyes were soft, but hardened in a way that Soap only ever found in knights. War, he had decided, was the cause of that ravaged, rugged look. Not completely lost, not yet, but having seen just enough to prove themselves wrong.

Kyle introduced himself with a warm hand and a nervous smile. Price clapped him on the back, before giving Johnny a knowing look.

"Lady Laswell awaits you in the great hall. Try not to be upset with her." The King warned in a steely voice, plunging his heart even further.

What trouble had he gotten himself into now?

"Alright, soldiers, load up." Price commanded, and a few choice kmights began mounting horses, or loading themselves into carriages.

Except for Gaz.

"Don't do anything too reckless without me, brother." The eldest said with a lost laugh in his voice, avoiding eye contact.

Soap challenged this by giving him a bear hug. "How cannae? Yer takin' all the fun with ye!"

Gaz actually laughed this time, pulling away before giving him a serious look. "No, really, don't burn the castle down, okay? We only get one."

"Yesh, yeah." He waved him off. "Go kill some Shadows fer me, aye?"

"Expect nothing less, Soap!" He called as he climbed into the carriage, where the King awaited him.

He heard the horses begin to trot, and Johnny turned away.

He didn't watch them leave.

The mirror was broken. Not that it had been much of use, anyways. It was always thick with grime and dust. No one ever had enough time to clean it. The floorboards still creaked in the same way as when he was a squire, however long ago that seemed.

The bed groaned as Sanderson woke up. The crack in the window eased a breeze, blowing cold into their room. He rubbed a hand over his face in the dim lighting of the knights' quarters. Something shifted off to his left, startling him.

"Good mornin' to ya, Riley, scared the shite outta me-" The young man feigned a hand over his heart after practically jumping out of his skin as the Knight Lieutenant moved around in the shadows, getting ready for the day.

"Morning, Roach." He mumbled, a voice deeper than you'd expect for someone of his stature.

The Lieutenant was tall and built out, covered in scars from war and past fights. He often wondered how he got the majority of them, but had never chosen to ask. He was not a social person, but he still spared enough conversation to speak with Gary. So he counted that as a win.

Riley had light brown hair that reached past his shoulders, but most of the time he had it tied up behind his head, moving as he moved. He had only ever seen it cut short once, right after Sanderson himself had joined the ranks. He had been captured by the enemy during the very start of the war, before he had earned the legendary title of the Ghost. And they had cut his hair, a symbol of power, torn away forcibly by the enemy. He was one of Price's closest men, and something had broken inside of him by the time that he had gotten close enough for rescue.

But for now, it was at it's regular length, tied back behind his head, back behind the mask that concealed the lower half of his face.

If his sharp eyes could glow, Sanderson was very sure they would be doing so in the dark of the morning. It was one of the only noticeable features on his face, set aside the jagged scars that crisscrossed his crooked nose, broken one too many times in a fist fight.

The real terror was the black, painted fabric of a mask that the Knights Lieutenant wore. Covering the bottom of his nose, down to his chin, this was his casual day's wear. It was hand painted, a thick, nontoxic material, the same shade white as a bleached skull left out in the sun for too long.

You can understand his sudden fear, being the first sight he saw as he woke.

"Remember your orders, Sergeant. Wouldn't want you to miss that opportunity." Ghost muttered, standing to move out of his way.

Roach's eyes widened as he launched himself out of bed, grabbing a day shirt, and the chain he wore as armor. Sitting at the end of his bed, he struggled to pull on his shoes in his sleep muddled state. He could tell that the Lieutenant was conflicted between feeling jealousy, or pride. He had made Roach the knight that he was, but was worried at the outcome of this mission. They didn't know how long he would be gone, accompanying the King and the Crown Prince to the battlefield, the front lines. It was Roach's chance to prove himself. They both knew Ghost would've been better in this position, but still, it was his chance.

Ghost knew, of course, that the Sergeant would be great at it. It was a big deal. He was a great fit.

"Sword." The older man grunted, holding out the sheath that Roach had almost walked out without.

"Shite, thanks-" He fastened the sword to his side, pausing in the doorway. "Oh, and Riley-?"

The man stopped what he was doing and looked up. Roach gave him a smile. Soft, forgiving. Warning.

"Thank you, sir."

The sun crossed the horizon, and Riley was alone in the quarters again.

"So... Why's your name Roach?" Gaz asked, leaning closer to the silent knight in the carriage with him.

"Gaz..." Price mumbled, lifting a hand to try and ease his spout of questions.

"It's okay, sir, I don't mind! A lot of us in the Knights' Quarter have nicknames like that. Codenames, you know? In case somethin' goes wrong, we can still write letters without givin' away someone! It was the Lieutenant's idea." The Sergeant said with a shrug. He looked, and sounded, younger than Soap.

"My brother and I have something similar." Gaz said happily, not failing to notice how he had danced around the question, both answering it and not. He looked out the window, drumming his fingers on his leg excitedly. War was not something to be excited about, but he was eager to get out and do something, something good. "So I assume you've trained with Lieutenant Ghost?"

Meeting with Lady Laswell was.... expectedly unexpected. He had pushed away the thick feeling that gathered in his throat at the leave of his father and brother, the silence almost deafening the castle, making it seem colder than it usually was.

The great hall was quiet for once. It was a sight he didn't welcome. His steps echoed on the cold flooring, and he pulled his coat tighter around himself. The fires weren't lit, he noticed with a pang. At one end of the table sat the Lady, pouring herself over papers, scrolls, and maps. Her short hair was pulled back.

She was a progressive woman, motherly in an unmotherly way that he liked. He knew she had favored Gaz, as most did, but they still got along well. He enjoyed her. She wore pants, instead of skirts and dresses.

"Oh, Prince John, nice to have you finally join us." She was an older woman, older than Price, but not by a decade at most. Her face was lined, but not at a faraway look, with graying hair and piercing eyes. She was unmarried, but he saw the way she looked at the castle nurse, and the way their touches lingered.

He didn't judge in any way, was happy for her, silently. He didn't understand the attraction to women when the men were right there, but that sent him under a spiral of thoughts he was unprepared for.

He tipped his head in acknowledgement. "Lady Laswell, g'morn to ye."

She gave him a smile, and stepped away from the table. "This is Lieutenant Riley, but you can call him Ghost. Ghost, I believe you've met Price John....?"

She appeared to be speaking to no one, until he turned around, immediately facing a very tall man's chest, and he jumped back, surprised.

"Creepin' jesus, ye just sneak up like that? That's fockin'-"

"John."

"Sorry, ma'am." He smoothed himself over and took a step back. Soap stuck out a hand with a bit of a hesitant smile, before he faltered at the sight.

The knight was tall, bigger than him in almost every way. He had wideset shoulders, the crest of the castle worn on his over shirt. He wore executioner's gloves, it didn't match with his outfit, but Soap did not dare tell him that. He was... intimidating to say the least. But the most eye catching part about him was not his cold, fixed glare, but the mask he wore. The black fabric really tore everything else away. A distractor. It was painted so very realistically, the lower half of one's jaw, dried and whitened, he couldn't help but admire it.

His eyes were hidden, almost veiled beneath a black paint substance that glossed over his skin. The famed Lieutenant Ghost looked nothing like what he believed him to be.

Ghost eyed him coldly. "Close your mouth, your majesty." He looked up and away from him, clasping his gloved hands behind his back. "You'll catch flies."

[reversemoon255]

5th Review - Gundam the Witch from Mercury

I’ve probably said this before in a Gunpla review, but I was really looking forward to G-Witch. I’m always a fan of when a series shakes up the usual cast tropes, even if it’s just costume colors, so Gundam doing their first show with a female lead was very exciting. And judging by a lot of the reactions I’ve seen, many Gundam fans and many new viewers from outside the fandom enjoyed the shift as well. Now, as someone very familiar with the Gundam meta-series, it’s not my favorite. I’d say it’s probably fourth? Which is still high on the list, but it does lack a few things I usually look for. However, characters and story are areas where it excels, so let’s get into my thoughts on them.

The Good: Despite some of the overall complexities of the plot, mostly involving the business and political side of things, it was fairly easy to follow. The story usually followed either Suletta, Miorine, or Guel, with many other smaller side-plots and check-ins with other characters throughout. It was also constantly shifting, never sticking to a status quo for too long, while simultaneously juggling a great deal of foreshadowing and character moments. Considering quite a few Gundam series have very rushed endings, and G-Reco’s pacing specifically has issues, the fact that G-Witch’s writing is so tight and well-balanced is a testament to how much care was put into it. It also doesn’t feel like “Everyone lived because they were popular and we rewrote it;” it felt like this was the plan from the start and they didn’t alter things due to fan reactions.

Moving onto our main characters, Suletta actually felt like our main character. I say that because several previous pilots (like Mika and Setsuna) have played second fiddle to more extroverted co-stars, such as Miorine, and having her hold her own in the spotlight is a good show of Gundam evolving as a meta-franchise. As a character, Suletta starts out very timid and slowly becomes more confident. As one of the main themes of the show is the relationship between parent and child, Suletta’s is simultaneously the best and the worst, as her mother is the only one who actively tries to help and praise her, but is also by far the most manipulative.

Speaking of her co-star, while Suletta handles the piloting for this series, Miorine takes the brunt of the more complex stories. She balances her time, importance, and relationship with Suletta better than some of the aforementioned teams I’ve mentioned, possibly due to the two of them being in a relationship themselves. She’s stern, stoic, and generally unfriendly at the start, but grows to be more open during the show’s run. On the note of parents, her father probably cares about her the most of the MC parents, doing everything he can to protect her from behind the scenes, but comparatively is very bad at showing any affection without a bullet in him. Also, it’s amusing how, as the more she tries to protect Suletta from her mother, the more she acts like her.

Guel is arguably the third main character this series, having a significant amount of screen time, and having dynamics with both Suletta and Miorine, not just one of them like some other characters. He starts episode 1 very coarse and aggressive, but we learn extremely quickly that his actions are more him trying to please his father above his own wants. The speed at which you go from disliking to liking Guel (something the show is surprisingly good at both ways) is very quick; by the end of episode 3 you already know he’s a good guy. Speaking of his father, he’s one of the (shockingly) very few character deaths we get this season. His impact on Guel is less that of his character and more of Guel trying to live up to his legacy and expectations. He was also outwardly the worst of the parents, but shows he does genuinely care about his kids in his final moments, caring more that he found his son than anything else.

Next are the Elans, who probably fit the mold the least of any of the characters, there being 3 of them aside. Unlike the rest of our main characters, none of the Elans really have any family. Elan 4 barely remembers his, Elan 5 had Dr. Winston but their relationship is much more generic than that of parent and child, and Elan Prime has the Peil co-CEOs but again their relationship is too generic or underdeveloped to classify it as parental. The only significant relationship formed by any of the Elans (apart from Suletta) is Elan 5 and Norea’s brief spat. But perhaps not having a family is exactly where he slots into the theme. Anyway, Elan 4 and Elan 5, though very different, both follow a similar developmental path (though one clearly took longer than the other). They both start off entirely devoted to their job/survival, and after meeting a girl they find similar to themselves, open up and start considering things greater than themselves. Granted, Elan 5 never loses his snark, but you can tell he’s well meaning.

And the last main character is Shaddiq. He plays the villain for most of the series, but a very charismatic one. As the villain, he doesn’t really change all that much compared to the other characters, being the most straight-forward and goal-oriented of everyone. He also flips the parent-child relationship on its head, being the only child to actively manipulate their parent and other characters like the other MC parents do. His character almost stands as a mirror to everyone else's.

As for any other random positive anecdotes I have about the series:

I’m not really talking about side characters (it would take way too long), but I really like Chu-Chu. She’s great and I like how she simultaneously does and does not grow.

My favorite moment is when Guel does the very anime tropey Sword-VS-Hug, and his kouhai shows up with a fire extinguisher and tells him he’s not cool.

I’m always a fan of a happy ending.

The Bad: I’m very much a Gundam mechanics person. It’s why I love series like 00, Build, and other things like Knights & Magic. And for a series all about Gundams, the Gundams are kinda boring. I was initially very excited about Aerial, with it having its offensive Bit Mode, its defensive Shield Mode, and its performance based Bit-On Form. I was really hoping Aerial’s evolution would be similar to something like G-Self or Core Gundam Rize, where it would get different Bit configurations that result in different big accessories and Bio-On Forms. Instead we got Rebuild, who was all, like, “let’s put all the bits on a big gun!” It’s weirdly more uninteresting than regular Aerial, especially since the gun was rarely used, and the Bit-On form was super underplayed. The other MS aren’t much better, just recycling ideas from UC, X, and Turn-A, and giving them a mix of 00 and G-Reco’s aesthetics. I will give credit to Swarzette for being a more interesting Rebuild, changing the shield to a sword and having multiple Bit-On configurations, but it was barely in the show. Same with the Demi Barding, having a lot of cool elements, but having almost no screen time. This was very much a character story, and the machines suffered for it.

Also, Prologue should have been the first episode. While it was cute to release it early as a teaser for the series, there are several moments, including a huge chunk of the ending, that hinge upon you having seen Prologue. It also serves to further explain Prospera’s motivations (who is, BTW, my least favorite character and the sole reason I paused watching the series until it was finished), as well as set up several other characters and plot elements that come to fruition near the back quarter of the show.

I thought about it for a few hours; this may be the best written season of Gundam, yet why don’t I like it more? And the conclusion I came to is: it’s super depressing. I was very much reminded of Citrus (a series I hate yet have simultaneously read all of), where it always ends on a negative cliffhanger to draw you into the next episode/chapter. The balance of positive to negative moments and interactions in the show is heavily skewed, and if you’ve read any of my other series reviews, you’ll know I really appreciate positivity in shows and characters.

Overall, I stand by that G-Witch is the best written Gundam series to date, but its overall depressing tone and lack of interesting mechanics keeps it from dethroning my top picks. However, I would still put it in my top 5, and am very glad Gundam chose to go outside its comfort zone to give us this very different season.

[clarasghosts]

back on my "legacies was a good show that deserved more love" soap box (never really got off it, to be honest) because i've said it before, and i'll say it again, legacies could never really have carried the same tone as its predecessors. despite its title saying it's a show about the past, in a pretty stark departure from the previous two shows, legacies is decidedly a show about the future. and the future looks bright.

things that were real obstacles for the older characters feel much smaller for the new generation. from day one, hope can handle magic that her peers and predecessors couldn't, and she makes it look easy. despite lizzie's rather traumatic death, she transitions to vampirism with almost no angst at all because she was brought up surrounded by vampires (including her mother) in a healthy environment. together, hope & lizzie take on a carnival of older vampires in one episode that would have been a half-season arc on tvd. the show, with its environment and changed attitude toward life and the supernatural, is such a reverse in tone that it almost reads as parody. like lizzie meeting a 500 year old vampire and finding nothing frightening about him because why would she?

which means that the stakes are different. plot-wise, the stakes have to be raised by necessity because of the kind of strength, training, and relationships in the show. outside of large plot points, a lot of the stakes are emotional. josie dealing with her own insecurities manifesting, hope dealing with her grief, lizzie learning to be healthy (, landon should have gotten to deal with his anger; rip your character development, babey, you deserved better). which doesn't mean the show is without its horror or darkness. i think 'kai parker screwed us' is one of the best examples of what horror looked like in the show. the consequences of alaric's actions, the suspenseful game of wits between kai and josie, kai's "you won't remember me at all" and "you'll have to become a monster like me" are parts of what make that episode great. but far more than all of that, the true horror of that episode, is when lizzie said she's not ready to be a vampire and she's not going to drink vampire blood, and the sebastian tells her "you already have". because the horror isn't that sebastian is a vampire, it's the way he took her choices, her consent, her autonomy away from her.

and i think that's what the horror of the show is. the darkness on one side of the coin titled 'legacy'. it's the idea that you have no real choices in life. that fate will force you down a single path, whether or not that's where you want to go. that your brain will work against you. that your family's violent past will decide your future. that you won't have a future at all. and over and over again the characters push back, have to rewrite their own perspectives, have to carve out a new path for themselves. and they didn't always make it. hope still tried to sacrifice herself, she still killed landon, but she also learned to rely on others and choose to live. lizzie became healthier every season, and rather than a burden, her mental illness was what gave her a different perspective and insight than the others. she and josie never accepted the inevitability of the merge (and presumably avoided it, since lizzie transitioned). mg escaped his parents' hatred, kaleb worked through his own fears about what he was, jed broke the cycle of his father's abuse. it's literally in the main character's name, but legacies was a show about hope.

[gerec]

2022 Fic Year in Review

Total Word Count: 89,420 (new fics and wip updates; does not include stuff I’ve written but not posted)

I'm always surprised when I do a tally at the end of the year and see just how many words/stories I've written; it never feels like very much but it's always more than I expected. I also wrote a lot of Erik/Shaw and Erik/Other this year, and a lot a lot of bottom!Erik lol. Who knew I would fall in love with omega!Erik 10 years into this fandom? :D :D :D

-----

Cherik

Bad Love (a/o, infidelity, just an excuse to write morally dubious pwp)

Summary: Out celebrating with his colleagues, Erik finds himself enthralled by a sinfully gorgeous omega named Francis.

Trust Me (At Your Own Peril) (dark!Charles mind whammies everyone including Erik)

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr – Shaw’s ward, lover and most potent killer, warped from a young age and tragic circumstances to follow him obediently and without question. It really was a thing of beauty, how Shaw was able to shape Lehnsherr into a finely honed weapon, with nothing but blunt and clumsy tools like fear and intimidation.

But Charles would make Erik love him, and own him utterly in a way that Shaw could never hope to accomplish.

never give all the heart, for love (these stars were meant to burn remix) (regency era, prostitute au!)

Summary: Charles Xavier is the most sought after courtesan of White Manor, New York's top brothel catering to the city's wealthy elite. Erik Lehnsherr is a businessman newly arrived from Kraków, who sees Charles from afar at a party hosted by General Stryker. His attraction to the omega is immediate and all-encompassing, and when they finally meet, sparks fly between two people who deem themselves too pragmatic to fall in love.

CX-01 (Learning Remix) (android au where everyone deals poorly with the real Charles' death)

Summary: Charles’ unexpected death has a profound effect on the people he loves.

Each of them deal with it in surprising - and sometimes unhealthy - ways.

Lies We Tell (prisoner!Erik + psychiatrist!Charles au with a dark!Erik this time)

Summary: Dr. Charles Xavier thinks he knows everything there is to know about Erik Lehnsherr - renowned terrorist, fellow mutant, and his patient of the past six months. Their relationship blossoms into something intimate and wholly unexpected, and Charles finds himself fantasizing about a life at Erik's side.

When it happens, it's nothing at all like he imagined.

Erik/Shaw, Erik/Other

Forbidden Fruit (Erik Lehnsherr/Sebastian Shaw, master/servant regency au)

Summary: Erik and his mother Edie live and work at Bridlemere, stately home of the wealthy and charismatic Sebastian Shaw. Things take a dramatic turn when the Master makes his interest in Erik - and his intentions - known.

In Your Mind, Where I Belong (Erik Lehnsherr/Sebastian Shaw, XMFC au where Emma knocks Erik unconscious instead of overboard)

Summary: Erik wakes up on the Caspartina after his attempt on Shaw's life goes dangerously awry.

Between Brothers (Erik Lehnsherr/Sebastian Shaw, regency au where omega Erik finds out his new alpha has a twin aka dirty pwp)

Summary: Erik is newly married to Sebastian Shaw, the wealthy owner of Hatfield Manor. He knows that Sebastian has a brother named Klaus; he does not know that they are identical twins, or that the brothers have a complicated history of sharing everything in their lives.

Wicked Vice, Secret Indulgence (Erik Lehnsherr/William Stryker, very dirtybadpornz, my favorite kind lol) - chapter update

Summary: Stryker is a human who hates all mutants. Erik is his favorite mutant whore.

The Kindness of Strangers (Erik Lehnsherr/Other, exactly what the summary says)

Summary: Erik is a teenage runaway who has to rely on the 'kindness' of strangers.

City of Light (Erik Lehnsherr/Other, part of my Legacy of Sin series with omega!Erik)

Summary: Shinobi takes Erik to Paris for a romantic getaway.

Little Girl Lost (Erik Lehnsherr/Wanda Maximoff,part of my Legacy of Sin series with omega!Erik)

Summary: Wanda's feelings for her bearer are complicated. Her feelings for her twin are not.

Fathers and Sons (Erik Lehnsherr/Other, part of my Legacy of Sin series with omega!Erik)

Summary: Sebastian Shaw leaves a permanent mark on the lives of his children, none more so than on Shinobi and Jacob. That doesn't change even after his untimely death.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold (Erik Lehnsherr/Brian Xavier)

Summary: Erik is 'Maxine, Mistress of Magnetism' and the star of the New York's most popular drag show. He catches the eye of wealthy industrialist Brian Xavier and gets an offer he can't refuse.

Patterns Repeating (Erik Lehnsherr/Other, part of my Legacy of Sin series with omega!Erik)

Summary: Sebastian has been dead now for almost three years, and Erik is finally settled - and happy - in his life with Shinobi and the rest of the children. But the growing bond between Erik and Jacob takes them down a painfully familiar path, and threatens to up-end the uneasy peace between the eldest Shaw siblings.

Charles/Shaw, Charles/Other

Your Rightful Place (Sebastian Shaw/Charles Xavier, Cherik, fantasy/historical a/o au) - multi-chapter update

Summary: Sebastian Shaw attacks the kingdom of Genosha while its monarch Erik Lehnsherr is away at war, capturing omega Consort Charles Xavier as he flees with his subjects towards Westchester.

Shaw is determined to right a perceived wrong by taking an unwilling Charles as his mate.

Oh Daddy (Jakob Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, modern au, written because there are so few Jakob/Charles fics in this fandom and it's a damn shame)

Summary: Charles has always been attracted to his best friend's father. A slip of the tongue leads to the revelation that Jakob feels the same way.

Want You To Want Me (Jakob Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, as above)

Summary: Charles embarks on a new relationship with his best friend's father.

Winds of Misfortune (Sebastian Shaw/Charles Xavier, rule 63, WW1 era au)

Summary: When Erik Lehnsherr heads overseas to join the War effort, he leaves his beloved wife Charlotte and daughter Anya in the trusted care of his friend and landlord Sebastian Shaw. An incident of mistaken identity has an an injured and amnesiac Erik presumed dead, which leaves his family destitute when his company and assets are taken over by the government. To keep Anya enrolled at the prestigious Genoshan Academy for Girls boarding school, Charlotte is forced to sell all her jewelry and personal items, and when that's not enough, work as a maid for Shaw to pay for both her own room and board and her daughter's tuition.

Shaw takes advantage of her desperate circumstances to make Charlotte his own...

Lives Lived For You (En Sabah Nur/Charles Xavier, XMA canon divergent au)

Summary: After a thousand lifetimes, En Sabah Nur rediscovers his long lost love.

Ficlets

AU-gust Challenge 2022

Summary: X-Men AUs with various pairings.

The Hideaway

Chapters 42 and 43 added

[monica428]

https://gofund.me/727fc906

Preserving Our Family Home - Your Support Can Make a Difference

Dear Friends and Supporters,

I am Monica Russup, and I am reaching out to you today in a time of great need. Recently, my world was turned upside down when my beloved mother passed away. Amidst the emotional turmoil that followed, I discovered a looming threat that could snatch away the place I've called home for 57 years – our family house.

Over the past three years, unknown to me and my mother, the real estate taxes on our cherished home have gone unpaid. Now, the deadline is fast approaching – August 31st – and I find myself facing an insurmountable challenge. We need to raise $1,008.42 to prevent our home from being put up for sale. (Update - thanks to all of you who have so generously donated so far, the initial payment has been made, but I have 3 more of $1066 in Nov, Feb, and May, and then the most recent ones. I am afraid I can't make all of these payments).

I work tirelessly, clocking in 40-plus hours a week, and I can make some payments. However, the lump sum required is beyond my reach, and that's where your support comes in.

I am not just a single mom; I am a single mom with responsibilities that extend beyond my own children. I have my two teenagers, one of whom is desperately seeking employment and re-enrolling in high school, while the other is diligently pursuing her education. Additionally, I care for my 37-year-old daughter, who battles a debilitating medical condition that sometimes leaves her unable to walk. She has a 10-year-old son, my grandson, who relies on us for stability and love.

To make matters more complex (but also filled with love), we share our home with five wonderful dogs. Our land, our sanctuary, is their playground. It's not just a house we're fighting for; it's a home where cherished memories have been made, and where we continue to build our family's legacy.

Let me be clear – my mother's oversight was not her fault, and I carry the weight of not being more vigilant. But, this place has been our sanctuary for generations, and I refuse to let it slip away without a fight.

You see, I'm not just anyone; I'm someone who's journeyed through the darkest of times and emerged on the other side. I am an addict in long-term recovery, and I've worked tirelessly for the past six years to rebuild my life. Right now, it feels like everything is unraveling, and I desperately need your help to hold it together.

The photo above is of our backyard, with the fence we put in for two of our five dogs. It also captures my three daughters and my grandson – the heartbeats of this home. We're a family trying to hold onto our little piece of heaven on Earth.

Any help, no matter how small, is a lifeline for us. Your generosity will not just rescue our home; it will breathe life into our dreams, provide a haven for our family, and preserve our history. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for anything you can contribute.

I love where I live, and with your support, I hope to continue living here and building a brighter future. To all those who have already donated, thank you for your kindness and belief in our cause. Together, we can save our home and continue writing the story of our family's life here for generations to come.

With immense gratitude,

Monica Russup and Family

Now, let me explain how your contributions will be used to achieve our campaign goal of $8,000.

The immediate and most pressing need is to settle the outstanding real estate taxes to prevent the sale of our family home. This payment is crucial to ensure we maintain a roof over our heads.

We have additional property tax payments due in November, February, and May, totaling $3,198. Your support will help us meet these ongoing obligations and secure our home's future.

To navigate the legal processes involved in rectifying our tax situation and preserving our home, we may require legal assistance. This fund will cover any necessary legal fees, documentation, and administrative costs.

Over the years, our family home has aged, and it needs some essential repairs and maintenance. These funds will go towards ensuring the safety and comfort of our living space.

As mentioned, we have a family member battling a debilitating medical condition. This amount will be allocated to cover medical bills, medication, and other essential support services.

We are committed to providing educational opportunities for our children and helping them secure stable employment. This fund will assist in covering educational expenses and job-seeking costs.

Our dogs are an integral part of our family, and we want to ensure their well-being. This amount will be dedicated to their healthcare and maintenance.

Running a campaign involves various costs, including fundraising platform fees, communication, and outreach. This fund will support these necessary expenses to ensure the success of our campaign.

We want to account for any unexpected expenses or shortfalls to ensure we can meet all our financial obligations.

Your generous donations will not only save our home but also provide our family with the stability and security we need during this challenging time. Together, we can overcome this obstacle and continue building a brighter future for our family while preserving our cherished family history in our beloved home.

Thank you for your compassion, support, and belief in our cause. Your contributions will make a profound impact on our lives, and we are deeply grateful for your generosity.

With heartfelt appreciation,

Monica Russup and Family

#SaveOurHome #Grateful #RecoveryLifeLessons #PleaseHelpUs #Straykidsfamily #Staysforever

[lyricc0900]

Chapter 10

Sol POV

Placing my fingers on my lips, my mind drifts to Loki, "Tonight was amazing."

Finally, back in my room, I lay on the bed, smiling into my pillow. I relax, letting my eyes close.

Dream

Opening my eyes, I find myself surrounded by fluffy clouds. Looking up at the sky, the stars move, centering around me as I sit up slowly. Looking around, I see nothing for miles on end until a familiar light shines before me.

Staring into the light, I watch as the man and woman that always seems to appear before I awaken. I take in their features; their skin was a mixture of blue and purple, eyes as white as snow, dark blue symbols rest beside their eyes. They glowed before me like shining stars.

The woman speaks up, "She's finally awakened."

Looking up, amazed, I stare at the two, "Who are you."

The man looks down at me, "My name is K'ythri, and this is my love Sharra; we are the ones who created you."

"What?"

Sharra steps forward, "We are here to fill in the missing pieces of your past, how you came to be, and the power you hold."

Placing her hand on my back, she pulls me forward; K'ythri holds out his hand. Showing a glimpse of the past, "On Asgard, a family resided, they are what deities call the Keeper of the Gods. They have the ability to communicate with the higher beings of the universe. As the generations pass, the more they spoke with those above them carrying on the wisdom that has been passed down for generations."

Showing me those who look so much like me, I listen carefully. Sharra picks up where he leaves off, "As time went on their existence grew smaller and they became targets of greed and hatred. Leaving only one left to reside at the edge of Asgard, your mother Hertha."

Showing me a picture of the beautiful woman, I smile at her warm, calming features. "She was kindhearted and worthy enough to connect with us at a young age. When her parents passed, we became close to her and remained her companions throughout her life."

K'ythri shifts the memory of her, "Being a Keeper of the Gods, you are granted luck by them but we could only do so much. Venturing off into town, she was attacked. We were able to guide her to a healer who would take her, but she wasn't able to bear children as a result of the attack. She was devastated, she could not carry the legacy of her family, it would end where she stood. Saddened by this, Sharra and I bent the rules of this reality and used our power to create you. With our essence and her blood, she was with child, and that child was you."

Showing me the days of her pregnancy, I watch as she rubs her round belly, "When you come into this world, I have so much to show you. Like the beach hidden by the rocks, I always found the prettiest shells there. Or the field that rests a bit north, the flowers that would bloom there are always so beautiful. My sweet child, this world holds so much hate for us. We may part but just remember you're never alone. Those that reside in the sky will always be there, to watch over you and guide you."

Feeling my eyes swell, she hums a sweet melody, the same one from my dream. "Mom."

A new memory forms, making Sharra frown, "She remained in hiding, but when the villagers found out, they banned together to kill the both of you. On the day of your birth, we remained by her side along with the others. As soon as you were born the outside world became meanless as she looked into your innocent eyes."

I watch as the woman smiles down at me, "My sweet child, Verdandi."

I watch as the tears swell in her eyes, hearing the commotion outside, she quickly gets up, using all her strength, and began to run.

"She fleed, running down the golden gate to send you somewhere safe."

Watching her, she walks inside the golden dome. Meeting with Heimdall she looks at him with pleading eyes. "Please send me somewhere safe, somewhere my daughter can live her life in peace."

He seemed hesitant, "No one shall pass or come through the Bifrost."

She looks defeated, but then the baby begins to wiggle in her arms. Looking around, she sees Heimdall and laughs as she reaches up to touch him. Looking down at her, his heart melts; he gives in, "You may take her to Midgard, but you must return; you know the rules can only be broken so much."

Understanding his words she nods, "I know my fate."

Sending her down, she holds me close as she appears in an alley. Confused and frantic, by the world around her she notices a house across the street. The windows were lit, and it seemed safe enough.

Rushing over, she looks down at the baby, "I love you, Verdandi, while your past is grim, may your future be bright and you're present remain memorable." Kissing the baby's forehead, she knocks on the door as hard as she can and runs away. Watching as both my adoptive parents open the door and lifted me up.

Smiling at the sight sadly, she gets shot up in a beam of light. Thanking Heimdall she returns to her home, tears falling from her eyes. Writing down something, she lifts the stone, placing it in a hole before covering it. Hearing the cries of anger outside, she remains still, allowing the sound of the ocean to consume her. I cover my mouth, watching as the house burns with her inside. Falling she slowly dies, leaving a prayer on her lips.

"Please, protect her."

I watch before the memory fades. Sharra continues, "From that moment forward, we did everything in our power to protect you, bending the balance as much as we could. We watched you grow and made sure to cast illusions on those who wanted to harm you. Every time you used your powers the stronger they became and the closer you came to see the gods who wish to aid you in your destiny."

I look up at them, "My destiny?"

K'ythri nods, "A dark mind will come in the future, to your home of its people, you will play a part and shift the everchanging future. You will grow stronger, with every day but we'll never leave your side."

Looking up, I see the other gods appear before me. Smiling, I place my hand on my heart, "Thank you for watching over me all this time, I won't let you down. I'll survive, and carry the legacy my family has done for so many years."

Feeling their warmth and love, they begin to fade away, "I'm waking up."

K'ythri and Sharra hold hands, "We'll never be too far."

With that, they fade away.

Dream Over

Sitting up, I look around, still, in my dress from yesterday, I rush out of my room, running down the halls. Passing by everyone who stands in my way, I leave the palace going into town. Running through the busy people, I soon hear the sound of the ocean crashing against the cliff.

Seeing the burnt house up ahead, I rush into the rubble. Pushing the broken wood and rocks out of the way, I find the stone floor, lifting a loose rock, I find a small box and a note on top. Standing, I read the note to myself.

"My dear daughter, Verdandi, if you're reading this then you've learned the truth. I wish I could have watched you grow. I still think of the smile on your face when I had to part with you. I hope that you remained safe on Midgard, in a home filled with love. I left his box, with the history of our family. Pictures of the past and what we've learned from the first to now. I hope this helps you in your future. Never forget that I love you and that I'll always be with you in your heart."

Tears spill from my eyes, crying by myself, I drown in my tears. Feeling my heartache I look up to see clouds form in the sky. Opening a portal I go through with the box and paper in hand. Trying to wipe my tears I look up to see Loki.

"Loki?"

Dropping the items in my hand, the tears don't stop falling as Loki pulls me close. "Everything is going to be ok."

Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

[robininthelabyrinth]

A-Yuan wasn’t the only child among the Wen Remnants, just the youngest.

Children's Day - ao3

Lan Wangji carefully scooped up the boy out of his hiding place, tucked beneath a pile of stones, sick with fever and fast asleep.

It was a good hiding place. If Lan Wangji hadn’t played Inquiry and demanded to know if there were any living beings around in this cursed place of death, he would never have found the small child.

He remembered him – this was little A-Yuan, who Wei Wuxian had taken down into town to play, the one Lan Wangji had bought all those toys for in his confusion, the one who called him rich-gege. Barely more than two years old, having never known anything but war.

He was all that was left, now. There was nothing else left in the battlefield.

No one else left.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes in pain.

I’ll care for him for you, he promised Wei Wuxian’s ghost, wherever it might be now. Now that you cannot.

I’ll take him back to Gusu to raise as my own – wishing you were by my side.

-

-Earlier-

“Sect Leader!” one of his aides cried out when he staggered back into camp. “What – who’s that?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the girl in his arms. She was – four, maybe? Five? He had no idea.

She looked a bit like Wen Qing.

“I found her hiding in the corner of the battlefield when she made a noise,” he said hoarsely. “The Wen sect remnants…by the time I got there, they were almost all dead already, all her family. She’s – she’s young. It didn’t seem right.”

Wei Wuxian always liked children, he thought vaguely to himself as he looked down at her. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that he would keep one there…in fact, if he thought back to that horrible meeting they’d had that one time he’d come to the Burial Mounds to try to talk to Wei Wuxian, he thought he remembered there being a small child there. This must be her.

She was bigger than he remembered, but that was what happened with small children, wasn’t it?

“Her surname is Wen?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng snapped automatically, and his aide took a step back from his vehemence. “The Wen sect is dead, you understand? All of them. The cultivation world refused to allow them to live, that much is obvious enough. Her surname…”

He looked down at her.

I failed Wei Wuxian, he thought grimly. I won’t fail his legacy.

“Her surname will be Jiang.”

-

-Earlier-

“We found this child hiding in the Demon Subduing Cave,” one of the guards reported, looking nervous. “Lianfeng-zun – what do we do with them?”

Jin Guangyao frowned down at the child, judging the child’s age to be about five or six – maybe seven, considering the likelihood of malnutrition at the Burial Mounds. If they were any younger, he would’ve said that the child ought to just execute them as useless; any older, and he would’ve had no choice but to declare them an enemy combatant, and thereby order them executed.

At this age, though…they were still young enough to be taught to forget their current surname, and to learn new loyalties, and yet old enough to perhaps remember a little of what they had learned, living as they had for a few years with the inventor of demonic cultivation.

Jin Guangyao glanced at the papers in his hands, full of barely legible scribbles, laying out powerful new spells and interesting ideas. They would help Xue Yang with his work – but not as much as a helper would, and naturally they’d just brutally executed all the other ‘helpers’ that might have been available.

Not exactly Jin Guangyao’s personal preference, but he wasn’t the one leading the Jin sect army.

Still, his father, who had been the one leading, had retired to his tent, and now Jin Guangyao was the one with the power, left to be in charge of mopping up. That, in turn, gave him a little more leeway, which meant he could implement his own thoughts, rather than badly thought out instructions.

“Put the child in my tent,” he said, and smiled. “The poor thing must have gotten lost and entered the battlefield – after we arrived. You understand?”

The guard saluted deeply. “Lianfeng-zun is kind and beneficent,” he said, and his expression was worshipful. “I will tell the others that the child is from some distant Jin branch.”

Jin Guangyao hadn’t intended for him to do that, but – well, he couldn’t exactly refute it now, could he, and anyway there were worse things to happen. Everyone would know that he had kindly taken in some orphaned child of war, which would be good for his reputation.

He smiled and nodded, and thought of the future.

-

-Earlier-

“Well, shit,” Nie Mingjue said, staring at the trio of children: nine or ten years old, he thought, maybe a little older, two girls and a boy. They stared back at him, wide-eyed and terrified – they were very clearly trying to sneak off the Burial Mounds down the back way.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his face, glad that he’d insisted on doing the forward scout work before the attack tomorrow morning himself rather than let it go to someone else. He hadn’t wanted to come to this blasted place in the first place, being that he still wasn’t sure exactly what had gone down with Wei Wuxian, who’d been a good man once. But good Nie cultivators had died at Lanling City at Wen Ning’s hands, the Jin sect claiming that that brutal attack was at Wei Wuxian’s instigation, and at the Nightless City at Wei Wuxian’s hands directly, and he didn’t have any evidence to exculpate the man, either; he had no grounds to look the families of those Nie cultivators in the eye and tell them not to pursue vengeance against the man who had slaughtered their brothers and fathers and sons, sisters and mothers and daughters, like they meant nothing.

They deserved vengeance.

Just as he had, for his father.

But at the same time…

“You’re all surnamed Wen, I take it?” he asked, and they slowly nodded. “Dafan Wen?”

Another nod.

“Wrong answer,” he said, making a snap decision. This wasn’t like his father at all, not really; he had wanted to kill Wen Ruohan, who had done the deed himself, while these children clearly hadn’t done anything. “Swear to me here and now that you won’t seek revenge for your sect or family, and you can be surnamed Nie instead.”

They looked at each other.

“Your family didn’t send you to run away because they wanted you to take revenge,” he said. It was a guess, but he could tell from the way their shoulders sagged that he was right. “They wanted you to live. Well?”

They swore.

He took them home.

-

-Earlier-

She tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Hey, girl!”

She looked up, eyes wide with terror – she hadn’t expected to be caught so soon – but the cultivator in front of her didn’t strike her down. He was a young man, just a few years older than her, and he looked nice, kneeling to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did you get lost?”

Lost? From where would she get lost, exactly?

Despite that, she nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Here isn’t a good place, though – we’re going to have a battle tomorrow…can you tell me where you’re from?” He frowned. “Or – can’t you speak?”

An idea suddenly came to mind, and she shook her head, lifting up her hands to mime signs like the ones she’d seen Lady Wen and her brother use sometimes when they needed to talk without disturbing others.

“Doesn’t talk,” he murmured to himself. “Clothing of white, ripped all to ribbons –”

She’d torn out any trace of the red sun. White was a common color, but she was old enough to know that she couldn’t let anyone know she was surnamed Wen.

“Oh, I’ve read about this before! Are you a bird yao that’s cultivated to humanity?”

What?

She’d been thinking of trying to pass as a traumatized war veteran, but she was only fourteen, after all; it wasn’t very believable. Of course, it was a lot more believable that bird yao – who would leap to that conclusion?

“My surname is Ouyang,” the man said, smiling brightly at her. “You should come back with me – I can teach you to speak, and we can give you a name…how about ‘Luo’ as a surname? That has to do with birds. Or we could surname you Bai, instead, since your clothing is white! Or maybe -”

She smiled helplessly at his nonsense. What a silly, cheerful man! Maybe she’d overestimated his age, he couldn’t be more than two or three years older, at most, and his brain was clearly not in the right place, filled up to the brim with romantic stories and adventure tales instead of facts.

It was a nice change, actually.

She accepted his hand as she stood.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-

-Earlier-

Lan Wangji had returned home and submitted to a dreadful punishment. The elders he had injured on Wei Wuxian’s behalf were either in treatment or recovering.

As for the rest that had been at the Nightless City…

Many were dead.

Lan Qiren landed in the Burial Mounds, lips pressed tightly together.

He knew he was taking a risk in coming here to Wei Wuxian’s lair – no matter what Lan Wangji thought, whatever good points he’d had in the past, the man was now little better than a mad dog. He’d caused the death of three thousand people just the day before, three thousand innocents that hadn’t had anything to do with anything; why would he hesitate to attack his old teacher?

There was already talk of a siege – Jiang Cheng himself had promised to lead it, to wipe off the stain on the Jiang sect’s record, and the Jin sect had been right behind him. Even Nie Mingjue had been dragged in against his will, suborned by his sect members’ need for vengeance. As for the Lan Sect…Lan Xichen had looked so stricken by the thought that Lan Qiren had volunteered for the grim duty, despite Lan Qiren having never been much of a fighter and even less of a general. He intended to take only the smallest possible contingent, and to limit their work as much as possible to cleansing the dead rather than killing those who remained there – that much, at least, he could do for his nephew.

Either way, though, no matter his powers, Wei Wuxian would not live out the week.

If Lan Qiren desired vengeance, he need only wait.

And yet, here he was.

Alone, practically unarmed – and here nonetheless.

An old woman came out from the cave and squinted at him.

“It’s over,” she said sadly. “Isn’t it?”

Lan Qiren looked at her. One of the Wen remnants that Wei Wuxian had surrounded himself with, he assumed; the ones he’d given up his comfortable life for, claiming he was only acting as a righteous man ought. Perhaps he even had thought he was, back then.

Perhaps he really had been, back then.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, and cleared his throat. “After what he did at the Nightless City – the verdict is unquestionably death. But the rest of you…there are armies coming, and armies are not known for their leniency, especially not on passerby with the wrong surname. But they’re not here yet. There’s still time to flee – if you go now, you could take on a new surname and find some quiet place to live on.”

Lan Wangji had said they were civilians. Civilian life was to be prioritized above all else.

Lan Qiren was only doing what he must.

Despite his well-meant warnings, however, the old lady shook her head.

“There’s nowhere to go, and we won’t give up our surname,” she said, polite but stubborn to the last. “But thank you for taking the time to come here to tell us.”

“Wangji said that there were children here,” Lan Qiren insisted, ignoring her refusal. “If you won’t flee with them, at least send those that are old enough out on their own, and hide the younger ones. Tell them to forget their surnames – most people won’t rampantly murder children, so there’s a chance they’ll make it through, and live. Can you deny them that, just for pride?”

That gave the old woman pause.

“We’ll do what we can,” she said, and then eyed him. “How good are you at medicine?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I can’t provide care –”

“She’s already dead. Come help anyway.”

The woman in question was not already dead, but dying – she was in her late teens, seventeen or eighteen at most, and she was in labor. From the glassiness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks, and the threadiness of her pulse, it was clear that infection had long ago set in. It was not an exaggeration to say she was dead, little better than a corpse.

She was little more than a child.

“I don’t want her to die alone,” the old woman said. “But if you stay with her, I can use the time to try to take care of the rest. You’re not wrong, I suppose – the children, at least, deserve a chance to live on, even if it means leaving our surname behind.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the woman, unconscious already and unlikely to ever wake, and yet still whimpering. “And her child?”

The old woman looked surprised. “Can a child born like this still live?”

Lan Qiren had almost no medical training beyond the most superficial basics that were the necessity for any battlefield or night-hunt, with one sole exception: he had supervised the births of both his nephews by himself with little aid – his brother’s wife hadn’t wanted anyone else to be present, possibly in an attempt to prematurely enter her grave, possibly just out of spite. He had studied very hard in the days leading up to those births, and knew far more on the subject than most men did.

“It’s possible,” he said. “Unlikely, but – possible.”

He hesitated for a long moment.

“I can take the baby,” he finally said. “Pass him off as some war-orphan child of distant Lan cousins, sent to me on account of their deaths. I could raise him, or else give him to my cousin to raise; he’s got a large enough family that no one would question it.”

“Why would you do that?”

Lan Qiren looked at the woman who was dying, little more than a child herself. “Because of the children I can’t help.”

The old woman was quiet for a little while.

“Very well,” she said, and leaned forward to whisper the name the young woman had thought about for her child into his ear. “That works with Lan as a surname, wouldn’t it? That’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Lan Qiren agreed, and rolled up his sleeves, settling down beside the girl. “Not bad at all.”

[countrymusiclover]

32 - Kenobi's Legacies

Yoda's New Padawan

Tag list - @tyrionsprincess30 @nanagoswife @lycaonpictusphotography @bigbendyhorns @abaker74 @haideehaids @sassycowboygoatee

6 years later

"Mommy, mommy, daddy and sissy are fighting!" Our six year old daughter Padme ran into the house. We had moved from the cave into an actual house that's still a ways from town. She grabs my hand dragging me outside into the open area of the house. Her hair is in a braid while she wears a white shirt and brown pants. I hear lightsabers smacking together before we round the corner. Kiera has been training for years to get better at learning the Force. Obi-wan spins on his heels pointing his blue lightsaber to her green one until Kiera knocked the weapon from his hands. "And I win, father." He shakes his head finally noticing us in the room. Padme tackled him in a hug where he spins her around in the air laughing. "There's my other girl. Were you taunting the Ewalks again?"

Little Padme has gotten into a bad habit of trying to steal the Ewalks cloaks that they wear. Wanting to wear a robe like her father does. Kiera wears her hair up in a bun reminding me such of young Leia. The Skywalker princess would become a leader someday I can see it. "Mom, why did you name my sister after your sister anyway?" Kiera suddenly asked plopping down on the couch and I followed sitting down. I haven't ever had the chance or strength to tell my sisters story. Obi-wan carried her over joining us with a small smile. "She named her that because your aunt was a great leader. Little Leia mirrors her mother as do the two of you." Playing with my hands together in my lap I get to my feet feeling their eyes on me. "You two are the next generation of this family. You have the power of the Jedi running through your blood. Meaning you two need to - go play for now." The girls jumped up immediately chasing after each other around the house.

"So love, have you contacted Yoda anymore?" Obi asked striding up and resting a hand on my face. Leaning into his palm with a soft smile. "No I haven't. What about your Master, Qui Gon?" When we had returned from bringing Leia home his dead Master had showed himself in the form of a blue ghost form. He shakes his head moving forward and pressing his lips onto mine. Wrapping my arms around his neck I mumble. "I love you, you know that Obi-wan." He mumbled back in between more kisses. "I love you too, Y/n...you've given me the best things ever." Four foosteps rush into the room arguing back at each other. "I want to play with it!" Padme jumped for her sisters lightsaber on her side. "It's too dangerous. Mom and dad said so Pad!" Kiera pushed her away a little until they both looked up at us for an answer. Even though one is fourteen and the other six years old they fight like their babies over almost everything.

Grinning I scoop Padme up in my arms causing her to giggle uncontrollably. Obi does the same to Kiera grunting a little. "Oh, I'm not sure how much longer I can do this sweetheart. You're getting heavier." Kiera just chuckled at that remark. Obi-wan and I each sit down on one of the high rocks getting a view of the vast desert in front of us. The sun's are setting in the distance where I lay my head on my husband's shoulder sighing in relief. For this is the life I know my sister would have wanted if she had lived. I know she's watching us from up there smiling. "Mom, look it, look." Kiera breaks me and apparently Obi from our trance because he grunts seeing something sitting on a small rock in front of me. Putting Padme on the ground I feel my whole body shiver recognizing the small creature in front of me. "Master...Yoda..." I trailed off dropping on a knee staring into the eyes of the little green man. He smiled looking over my shoulder to the little ones who hide behind my backside. "Afraid you not need be little ones. Friend of family I am." He replied pointing a finger to the girls.

"Master Yoda, what are you - how are you here?" Obi-wan questions joining my side on the ground, ushering the girls in front of us. "Through the Force possible it is. Learn in time you will Kenobi." Yoda turned his head my direction somehow taking my hand in his squeezing it gently. "With you always I will be, promised you I did Y/n. Meet the children I wish." He smiled hopeful where I take Kiera's hand in mine where she nervously waves to my former master. "Hi...I'm Kiera's..." Master Yoda nodded until Padme finally gets brave introducing herself. "I'm Padme, Mr..." I answer her question. "Yoda. His name is Yoda. He used to be my Jedi Master." Obi-wan eyes me with a kind smile speaking to one of the only living Jedi council masters beside himself. "We have done our job, Master. Luke is being protected by his family as is Leia. And we are training our little ones to be Jedi." Master Yoda raised his hand where both girls placed there's on top when he starts speaking. "Old ways of the Jedi gone they are. Create a new way you both will. Kiera and Padme, the future you will be." Obi-wan draped an arm over my shoulder hearing me whisper before he would disappear again. "Will I ever see you again, Master?" Yoda nodded resting his freehand onto his lightsaber, following my current state of my right hand. Obi-wan rests his in the same position already knowing the answer. "Connected the Force is. To your family and your strengths. Proud your sister would be of you. As am I, my former padawan. As am I." With that Yoda disappeared leaving us all in awe for the future that would be come.

This is the end my readers. I loved writing this story more than any of my other books and I am happy to know people are reading it. So thank you

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[butwhatifidothis]

So if it is MEANT to be a villain route...Why are the villanous actions NEVER ADDRESSED by ANY of the characters outside of "Huh. I wonder if there was a better way to do this."

Why did they have Rhea go insane and torch a city? Why make potray Rhea as a villain when you could potray her as the hero whos genuinely trying to do good? Why have a majority of the characters still be able to be recruited regardless of if it makes sense? Why have the ending narration mostly be possible? WHY have Edelgard succeed and somehow turn her tyranny into a society that "ensures a free and independent society fot all."

If it's REALLY a villain route, why is there not a single character ending mentioning things like rebellions and conflict? Hell, the ending narration shows not a hint of villainy and potrays its ending as heroic.

"Embracing her newfound power, Edelgard could at last set about destroying Fódlan's entrenched system of nobility and rebuild a world free from the tyranny of Crests and status."

Again, if it was TRULY meant to be the villain route, it would have been POTRAYED as such. Instead of a villain route, we got "A route where one of the villains is made the protagonist and her views and villainous actions are never questioned OR addressed and outside of the conquest and starting the war, everyone is mostly happy."

Alright so this is going to seem like a nonserious answer, but I'm 100% serious when posting this image as part of a genuine answer to this question:

On CF, your actions are never addressed because of ignorance. On the surface, your actions seem like they've helped Fodlan, but as soon as the player looks any deeper it starts to become evident that something isn't right.

If Edelgard made a free and independent society for all, why are the people spied on in Hubert's ending with Dorothea? Why are rebellions secretly being put down in his ending with Shamir? That's not free, in a general sense or from specifically tyranny. That's a direct contradiction from two of the characters that can only be played on CF, and this is only found on CF.

Rhea is portrayed as a villain because she is Nabatean, and Edelgard hates Nabateans, and you are playing a route that emphasizes her ideals - which include wiping out all of the inhuman, bestial, vile, cruel Nabateans that have been plaguing humanity’s world. Rhea goes insane on CF because unlike all of the other routes, where the player and the lord never go out of their way to trample and spit on their enemies' trauma, that's what you are doing the entire time you play CF to Rhea - for months once Byleth returns, and that’s being extremely generous and not counting the entire war. You help drive Rhea and the other Nabateans away from their homes when taking over Garreg Mach - like Nemesis did to Rhea after the Red Canyon Massacre! You're helping someone try to kill off the rest of her people - like Nemesis did at Zanado! You're trying to kill Rhea with the Sword of the Creator, her mother's mutilated corpse - like Nemesis did! You're doing so with the descendent of Wilheim - spitting on the legacy of the one human Rhea could trust during the War of Heroes! You're literally recreating the single worst moment of Rhea's life, all so that you can help the one who views her as less than human.

Portraying Rhea as "the hero who's genuinely trying to do good" goes against Edelgard's viewpoint of all Nabateans being evil, and you're never meant to question Edelgard or make her change her beliefs. You as the player are actively discouraged from talking back to Edelgard, as she will noticeably get upset whenever you do - many times you will even lose support points with her, and this is especially bad for specifically Edelgard because you have to get to a certain support level with her to enter her route, with you having less chapters to do so because she won't talk to you until after Byleth achieves the Sword of the Creator in Chapter 4.

Look at how Rhea, Dimitri, and Claude are portrayed on CF. Rhea and Dimitri are demonized, while Claude is given some leeway from Edelgard. Now notice who of the three of them always speak their minds over Edelgard's villainy to her face, and which of the three of them bends to Edelgard's view of them as the bad guy. Dimitri and Rhea never allow themselves to bend to Edelgard - they call her out and call her actions evil. Claude, on the other hand, will remove himself from Fodlan and then afterwards make himself out to be a bad guy whom Edelgard managed to take down. He puffs up her ego, and he gets to live, while the two that don't must die. Edelgard is the one always out for the kill, and only by submitting to her is anyone allowed to live - which, I don’t think needs to be said, isn’t very heroic of her.

I've had my fair share of complaints over the characters that can be recruited over to CF, but even with those complaints... look at how those characters behave on CF. None of them are Felix levels of negative character development, but they all act noticeably worse on CF vs how they are on the other routes. To name some notable examples: Ignatz goes from wanting to paint Garreg Mach as it stood five years before to preserve its beauty to wanting to paint the violent downfall of the Alliance, Lysithea wants to abandon House Ordelia, which is in direct contrast to her core character motivation, Ingrid is willing to throw away her lifelong dream of being a knight of Faerghus, which she herself says is her spitting on her dead betrothed’s dreams, Leonie works with Jeralt’s killers, etc. etc.. And mind, CF is the route that locks out the most units - there's the obvious ones like Dedue and Gilbert who were already route exclusive, but then there's Seteth and Flayn, Catherine, Cyril, and Hilda. CF is the only route to have even non-exclusive units be completely unavailable no matter what.

Edelgard doesn't make a society that is "free," like I said above - having a secret police monitor the people's actions, or is ready to put down anyone who tries to rise up against her, is literally the opposite of free. Edelgard can and will ban plays she doesn't like - not free. Edelgard only allows state-sanctioned religion, if she does allow it - not free.

CF is a route that wants to make the player believe the lie that you're not the villain, because you are playing from the perspective of someone who herself doesn't think she's the villain, but like. Look at what you're doing. You're invading two countries for the express, explicit purpose of taking them over and making them your own. You're working with someone who's been trying to reunite Fodlan back under Adrestia as early as the prologue when she tried to have Dimitri and Claude assassinated. You're helping TWS. Your Imperial presence makes Church people flee - which, given that Edelgard wants Rhea and those involved with the Church dead, I don't blame them. You're working with someone who is starving her people so that she can carry on with her war.

CF lies to the player - Edelgard lies, constantly. She says she's willing to let Rhea live, but literally the scene before she says she seeks to fuckin' Exodia Rhea. She lies about Arianrhod. She lies - or is flat-out wrong, which isn't much better - about the Church hoarding wealth and about the Church splitting up the Empire. She lies about not knowing about TWS pre-ts. She helps spread the lie of Duscur being the ones who killed Lambert. She lied about not knowing where Flayn was when she was kidnapped. She lies to her people by making them believe she’s making the orders during the war, not Byleth. There's a student who doubts all of what Edelgard says right before the timeskip happens and who isn't sure about his decision to stay, and then there’s a man who calls Edelgard “a tricksy one” on the last explore section for lying about attacking the Kingdom capitol. She’s wrong about the history of Nemesis and Seiros, calling Nemesis killing all of Rhea’s family a “simple dispute.” She lies to her people about an entire war against a group who just a little bit ago were her allies. Lies and ignorance are staple points to CF as a route, it’s baked into it, so the idea of the CF going “oh no you totally are the good guys” literally as the city burns down around the players doesn’t come from nowhere.

And like... the ending narration “shows not a hint of villainy?” Um.

Her stepping on the flags of the Alliance and Church? Her recreating a painting of Napoleon - that little known imperialist - down to the hand of justice? Her denouncing gods constantly and then being ushered in by a statue with heavy resemblance to Nike, Goddess of victory? Hubert plotting away from the sight of the rejoicing people? Yeah, there’s a lot of hints to villainy.

Again, CF isn’t “portrayed” as a villain route because it’s you falling for the lies of Edelgard. You have a wool over your eyes. You accept everything Edelgard says as fact, even when she actively contradicts herself - sometimes as radically as in back-to-back scenes. You view yourself as a savior to humanity, even when you plunge it into darkness. You don’t think you’re the villain, so your actions aren’t going to be put in an explicitly villainous light - at least, not by anyone on your side.

This post showcases the difference between non-recruited characters fighting non-CF!Byleth vs CF!Byleth. Characters are mostly saddened by having to fight Byleth in the former, while they are mostly betrayed on CF. Byleth is very clearly seen as being wrong for having sided with Edelgard on CF by the non-recruited characters - Edelgard’s actions may not be directly criticized (save for by Dimitri and a few others), but it makes no sense for these characters to be this shocked and betrayed by Byleth siding with her if her actions were so good. Leonie deadass calls you a traitor to Jeralt, Ingrid says that you are not fit to rule Fodlan specifically for siding with Edelgard and the Empire after all she and they have done, and Dimitri questions you as to why you chose Edelgard and her “savage, bloody path,” just to name a few notable examples. You, as the player, are being criticized for siding with Edelgard. You say that the villainous actions are “NEVER ADDRESSED by ANY of the characters,” but what else are these reactions but characters addressing your villainous actions?

And like... “a route where one of the villains is the protagonist” bro that’s a villain route. Like. I’m not trying to be mean, but I am genuinely confused as to what you were trying to get at here.

Like. In a vacuum? I might can get the idea of CF not being a villain route a little better, were it the only route available (though even that is a very big stretch). But you have three whole other routes where there’s no conquest, there’s no working with TWS, there’s no using Demonic Beasts, there’s no killing/exiling the remaining (immediately known) Nabateans, there’s no continuous and long-standing lies that never get outed, the lords never stay flat out wrong about the events of the game, non-recruited characters aren’t shooting Byleth up the ass with accusations of being a traitorous lemming who’d follow Edelgard off a cliff... and they achieve peace. Those endings, with Dimitri Claude and “Rhea” (SS ain’t really her route even though it should’ve been but ye), lack the following in any of their endings:

Censorship

Spying on the people

Constantly putting down rebels in secret

State-sanctioned religion

(mind, this last one is in direct contradiction to CF’s ending narration that says that Church is destroyed)

None of this happens on AM, VW, and SS. They all have peaceful endings. They all have Fodlan see the light of dawn, and that is never contradicted in their endings. CF is the only route to have all of these things happen in it - I think that’s enough for it to be considered a villain route lol

[mrs-gucci]

Doth Not Fear, For Our Future Awaits {Prince Kylo Ren x Reader}

@babbushka:

Happy follower milestone my dear friend!! My prompt idea for your consideration: A medieval AU where reader is a lady in waiting to the Queen at the royal court, and Kylo is the crown prince who is in love with her. They can never be together...or can they? However you'd like to take this, if you decide at all, would be so much fun! xoxoxo :)

author’s notes: hello, hello! I’m baaaaack after a lengthy case of writers block 😩 my dearest friend, my beloved, thank you for this wonderful request!! I’ll be honest, I restarted this about three different times, but I’m very pleased with how this one turned out for you <3 @babbushka​

warnings (what you see is what you’ll get!): fluff. forbidden romance/love. passionate kissing. themes of infidelity. use of Shakespearean English. some insults are thrown around.

no tw’s :)

word count: 1.6k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp​ @babbushka​ ​@mrs-zimmerman​ @dirtytissuebox​ @thepalaceofmelanie​ @einmal-im-traum​ kylo’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings @icarusinthesea @lumdelacour @readingreaver @eagerforhoney​ @trubluepensfan​ @beachwoodmonet​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or at the top of my masterlist.)

[NOT my art/image. full credit to the artist, therealmcgee, and found via Pinterest]

A gentle autumn breeze rustles the masterpiece of dark tresses that sit atop the head of crown prince Kylo Ren, who stands alone in the moonlight-illuminated garden. The birds have ceased their chirps and allowed for the nighttime singers to shine through, crickets and katydids creating a peaceful melody from amongst the grasses.

He stands by the pond, staring down at his gently rippled reflection in the water. A grimace seems to be permanently etched onto his expression whenever he’s in the presence of his overbearing mother or pesky new bride, creating creases in his skin that shall surely remain for the rest of his living days.

As he looks down upon himself under the soft moonlight, he can only see the miserable face of a young man trapped in the cage of a legacy, unable to free himself from the heavy chains of expectation and tradition. Tonight, though, those chains bear an even greater weight for the young royal.

You're all he desires in life, the only thing he wishes to seek out and fight for. Not the kingdom of Alderaan, not his new bride, not even his mother; it’s you. And now, he’s forever bound to the wrong woman, restrained yet again by the rigid ways of his family’s traditions.

What if he no longer wants to be Prince?

A hollow footstep on the stone courtyard startles him from his thoughts and he turns around to gaze upon the intruder of his serene privacy.

“I believeth thy new bride is awaiting that lady marital bedding.”

His expression softens upon the sight of you striding towards him, turning fully around to properly face you as you stand before him. He holds your smaller hands in his much larger ones.

“The lady shalt beest waiting for an eternity, then. I am doubtful of that lady did suppose pureness, if 't be true i am truthful.”

The two of you laugh softly together at his comment.

“I wanteth nay other, Y/N, only thee.”

You offer the crown prince a sad smile. “And I only desire thee, Kylo, but we simply cannot beest together. I am mistress in waiting to thy mother, the queen, and ye art did set to becometh king. 't is 'gainst the laws of the land and we shalt certes beest hanged if 't be true anyone ever did discover our love affair.”

He sighs, forehead pressing against yours as he looks longingly into your eyes. “I wish things wast not this way, yond people couldst beest free to marry for love, not for status or bloodlines.”

“Me too.” You lean into him, bringing your mouth up to hover over his, and his down to meet yours. Warm, gentle wafts of his breath smooth out across your lips and you give a soft whimper in response, pressing yourself further against him. “Telleth me all thee would do to have me as thy bride, Kylo.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, considering you’re barely able to breathe through your nose by now, with your face practically smashed up against him, but that’s the absolute last thing you give thought to at a moment like this. He opens his mouth and lazily attempts to capture you in a kiss, fingertips pressing harder into your sides.

“Gods, I would doth aught for thee. I would giveth up mine coronet, mine legacy for thy handeth.”

Slowly, your arms slither up around the back of his neck, feeling a familiar heat rising and bubbling in your nether regions.  “Telleth me more.”

He’s practically slobbering over you now, so desperate to press his lips unto yours. The hunger surges through him as he pulls you flush against him.

“I would square for thee, square anyone for thy love to belong to only me. I would drop of sorrow mine bloody, beating heart out of mine own chest for thee.”

Your pulse throbs neath your flesh, the upbeat tempo of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You sigh into his open mouth, hand coming up to grab hold of his silky hair. 

“Moo.”

Suddenly, he sweeps you up off your feet and instantly presses you against the side of the nearest structure, effectively caging you in with his massive form. He snarls softly, pinning you even further into the wall, forcing a quiet gasp from your lips.

“By gods, Y/N, I would killeth for thee.”

You tighten your grip in his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. He returns the embrace with eager lips, tongue prodding and exploring every cavern of your mouth. His pelvis presses right up against your lower abdomen, rubbing his stiffening length up against you.

“Kylo.” A sigh pushes its way through your pursed lips as Kylo’s head dips down, lips pecking at the taut skin on your neck.

“Did shalt we runneth hence together. I wanteth to declare our love to the kingdom tonight.” His face lights up as he holds yours in his massive hands, smiling. “I’m sick of hiding in the shadows, sick of having to keepeth myself hence from thee.”

You’re riddled with worry over this sudden decision, rubbing the strong upper arms of your lover. “Art thee sure? This idea worries me greatly, mine sweeting. What if 't be true we receiveth did doth catch? They wilt throweth us in the dungeons for sure; our destiny wilt beest but soft decaying down thither until death showeth us mercy.”

“I don’t care. Allow me to prove all I would doth for thy love and for thy handeth, Y/N. I wilt taketh care of thee, I wilt at each moment maketh sure thee hath't everything thee couldst ever needeth and moo. And we wilt beest together, beest free to love one another at last. Who is't cares whither we art or what our fates wilt beest? We can finally beest together without restrictions, punishments or secrecy.” He presses you further up against the wall, lips parallel to your ear. “Mine life isn't worth living if 't be true thou art not by mine side. Wilt thee runneth hence with me?”

Simply just the thought of that makes your stomach go a flutter, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your eyes flicker up to meet his once more, hands cradling his handsomely carved face.

“I trust thee, kylo, thither's few or none will entertain it path thee decideth to taketh; I wilt remain by thy side. If 't be true thee wish to telleth the kingdom, then I wilt telleth those folk 'longside thee. If 't be true thee wish to runneth hence from this lodging, then I wilt runneth with thee.”

Kylo pulls you close for one more embrace, then guides you along back up to the party. Acidic nerves begins to crawl up your throat as the two of you draw nearer and nearer to the bustling ballroom.

Instantly, the Queen rushes over to her estranged son with a frustrated frown on her face. “Whither on earth hath't thee been?! Thy bride hath been by herself all night waiting for thee to returneth!”

He takes your hand. “The lady is not mine bride, mother, not anymore. Y/n is mine bride, and we don't care what everyone thinkest of our forbidden love. I've grown did tire of trying to prithee, of trying to followeth all of the traditions of our family. I wanteth to marry for love, not for the continuation of our lineage, and i intend to doth so with mine beloved.”

Now, people have begun to look onto the unfolding situation, finding it far more interesting than the festivities. Leia’s eyes search her son’s, then flicker over to glare into yours. A shiver swipes down your spine at her gaze of hatred.

“Thee've poisoned mine son. Callet!”

This gets the attention of even more patrons and suddenly, every single set of eyes are focused on where you stand. You wish to simply crumble in this moment, become one with the Earth in order to escape their accusatory stares. 

“How dare thee speaketh of mine beloved in such a manner?! Didn't thee heareth what I did doth sayeth? We don't care what thee bethink of us, what any of thee bethink of us. We wilt beest together, coequal if 't be true 't doth take every single moment of mine life to achieve.” 

The room is completely still and scarily quiet, not a single shift in position or breath can be heard in this moment. Leia stands up straight to look up into her son’s eyes. “I at each moment did knoweth thee wast nev'r did cullionly to beest in this family. I'm ashamed to hath't thee as a son.”

Patrons begin to stir and an angry unrest drapes itself atop the crowd.

“Throweth those folk in the dungeons!“ One says.

“Death to the coronet prince!“ Another exclaims.

From the very back of the room, another voice pops up. “Traitors!“

Suddenly, Kylo yanks you towards the stairs, breaking out in a full sprint.

“Runneth anon, mine love! We wilt hence!”

Your precious shoes fly off your feet as you run behind him. “Kylo! Mine shoes hath't cometh off! What am I to doth?”

He’s quick to scoop you up and carry you in his arms, breath steadily growing heavier with your added weight. He runs all the way down to the stables and seizes a tacked horse, mounting the perplexed creature swiftly.

“Taketh mine handeth. Doth not fear, for our future awaits, mine beloved.”

With a bright and hopeful smile, you take his hand willingly, the wind catching your hair as rhythmic hoof-falls carry you off to your new life, one you get to spend with the love of your life.

[jaigeye]

DEATH & DYING: Mandalorian Funerary Practices, Burial, Remembrance & Grieving

"Mando'ade usually bury in mass graves anyway. We all become part of the manda. We don't need a headstone." /  "Collective consciousness. Oversoul. We don't do heaven." ―Mirta Gev 

In ancient Mandalorian religion: “Arasuum is the god of decadence and idle consumption, battled in the creation myth in the War of Life and Death by Kad Ha’rangir, the destroyer god of change and growth, a force of creative destruction. If to live is to adapt, then something that remains forever, eternal, must be constantly adapting, never stagnating. To remain the same is to perish.”

Metaphysical Understanding of Life & Afterlife

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la:   “Not gone, merely marching far away.” - (Tribute to a dead comrade.)

This struggle between idleness and change was reflected in the ancient Mandalorian belief in the afterlife: existing as a plane of spiritual energy in constant conflict between stagnation and growth, every Mandalorian who perished was believed to join the army of the afterlife, defending their families that dwelled in the eternal, peaceful homestead. Mandalorians believed that this home beyond death was the only place they could truly reach a non-transitory existence. 

The ancient gods were largely forgotten in contemporary times. 

The concept of a literal afterlife waned, in favor of a belief in the Manda. The Manda was described as an oversoul, a collective consciousness, and the very essence of being Mandalorian. 

To join with the Manda after death, a Mandalorian was required to be knowledgeable of their culture, and practice its tenets in their daily lives.

Practices:  Funeral rites, Burial, & Cremation

Cremation: 

The Mandalorian "kote kyr'am" or glory death was an event where Mandalorians honor their fallen warriors who died facing Jedi, or impossible odds. 

This was done to ensure that their warrior’s spirit may join their ancestors. The body was burned on an elevated pyre.

Clan members would shout war-cries to the sky, and speak loudly of the dead’s great feats in life. This goodbye ceremony was a night of mournful celebration; drunken feasting, and brawling, was common. Telling stories about the deceased’s life was important. 

It doesn’t matter what side a Mandalorian was fighting on, friend or foe; if one died in battle, they were due a warrior’s funeral. 

Ashes are scattered & not kept.

Burial: 

Mandalorians are pragmatic people. On Mandalore, most Mandalorians were buried as simply as possible within mass graves that had no markers. 

Private, single-plot burials for the dead are uncommon. 

Exceptions and Outliers: 

Among nomadic communities of Mandalorians, those currently fighting a war, or those who live on planets unsuitable to the practice of mass burial, cremation may be the accepted burial method even if one did not die in battle. Sustaining a cemetery and transporting corpses en masse can present a great challenge.

Some highly placed individuals, such as Mand'alor, were offered the option of having a marked grave.

Boba Fett wished to just set the Slave I on autopilot and allow the vessel, carrying his body, to drift in space. After removing his father's remains from Geonosis, Boba Fett buried them on Mandalore.

A notable exception:  “The helmet [of Fenn Shysa] was all he’d brought back. It was an apt memorial for a populist leader, to be commemorated in the same way as any ordinary Mandalorian.”  - His helmet was displayed on a pedestal.

Philosophical Understanding of Death, Grieving & Remembrance

Philosophy:

Death is another step in the process of life. For those left behind, it offers the chance for change, growth, and adaptation to life without your loved one. For the dead, it is but another step in the path.

Remembrance: 

"The armor I wear is five hundred years old. I reforged it to my liking, but the battles, the history, the blood all lives within it. And the same goes for every Mandalorian." "This armor is part of our identity. It makes us Mandalorians who we are." ―Sabine and Alrich Wren

The dead’s possessions, often their armor, are kept in memorial. If a full set of armor  couldn't be recovered, it was commonplace to retrieve smaller parts such as helmets, gloves, or plates instead.

Beskar’gam is passed down bilineally.  (A bilineal system is one in which two lines of descent, matrilineal and patrilineal, are both socially significant.)

Possessions have value. Jedi may value the metaphysical qualities of the universe, but Mandalorians see the physical as significant. The armor is a part of you. To pass down a part of you is a way to live on forever. 

Even if the Beskar itself is melted down and reforged, the metal itself does not lose the power of its inheritance. 

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. “I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.” [Followed by repetition of loved ones' names.]

It was a Mandalorian custom to recite the names of loved ones and friends who have passed each night before sleep. This was a means of keeping their memory alive. 

The uncertainty of life meant that most Mandalorians celebrated the time they had at every opportunity, taking part in communal singing, drinking, and enjoying time with family. 

The concept of aay'han was a Mandalorian term that encompassed the joy of time spent with loved ones while remembering those who were no longer among the living, relatively similar to the Basic term "bittersweet".

Headcanons & Conclusions 

Death is not demeaning - is not shameful. 

Despair is something one must look in the eye.

In death, you become one with the masses. Whether cremated or buried in a mass plot, you become nameless, faceless. You don’t get a “Here lies...a good mother and friend..”. This is part of the point. 

By giving descendants your Beskar, you will be remembered as a protector. They will be safe, thanks partially to you. This is enough.

The meaning of life is that it ends. Death is a creative motivator. What better way to avoid stagnation than to live while you can?

The living may get a tattoo or engrave a symbol on their Beskar that was important to the deceased, to remember them by.

The Mass Graves might be something more akin to an underground catacomb, so more can be added over time.

Children are buried with the same gravity and respect as Mand’alors and war heroes.

Death is known. It is respected and known as an arduous mental, physical, and emotional process, both for those who succumb to it and those left to remember. Among Mandalorians-- to whom arasuum, the act of never adapting, is a sort of spiritual death-- physical death is not the end, only another part of growing and changing. 

- Any Mandalorian would be perfectly willing to ask, and be asked, what their own wishes for death are. Depending on their clan, home planet (or lack of) and condition of their life, they may prefer a certain type of burial or have specific requests. It’s not embarrassing or scary. 

- Mandalorians do not swaddle the grieving in their sadness. They are allowed to feel it powerfully, vividly, but they are also given tasks-- expectations -- rituals and practices to follow, so they might find a sense of purpose in death.

- They do not believe in the practice of beautifying a body for viewing. The mere idea of modern American standards of burial being applied to Mandalorian corpses would most likely be seen as deeply sacrilegious! Using embalming methods and protective caskets would be seen as a futile attempt to ignore the reality- it would be seen as an act of avoidance.

- Mandalorian clans often gather around the dead to wash, dress, and speak to them before they are taken away to be buried or cremated. This process can take anywhere from hours to weeks.  (Corpses are not an inherent health threat. They would know this.) Spending time with the body is powerful and helps to process grief. They do not see the body as a cursed, diseased object, but a vessel that once held their loved one. 

People spend time with their mothers, their brothers in war, their children. One might spend time brushing the deceased’s hair, telling them stories.

Sociologically, Mandalorians are staunch believers in the idea that it takes a village to raise a child. They take it quite literally. A neighbor, clan member or acquaintances death may be taken just as seriously as the loss of a very close loved one.

On the war-torn planet of Mandalore, where even before the purges the unwelcoming, life-resistant desert overtook the landscape, the only places with much lush greenery are the areas that are fertilized by the mass graves of Mandalorian people. These places are regarded with gratitude and to damage them or wage fights in them is seen as an unforgivable act. Death can be restorative. 

(anything above headcanons & conclusions is canon, all below is my own interpretation)

material i reference here: 

Legacy of the Force: Sacrifice

Legacy of the Force: Revelation

Star Wars: The Old Republic: Knights of the Fallen Empire

General EU/SW Legends

Wookiepedia 

Caitlin Doughty, From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death

Caitlin Doughty, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes & Other Lessons from the Crematory

[fybillielourd]

I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom–technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom–for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom–the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine. I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”–or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord–not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me and saying they fantasized about my mom. My mom? The lady who wore glitter makeup like it was lotion and didn’t wear a bra to support her much-support-needed DD/F’s? They couldn’t be talking about her! I had to investigate who this person was they were talking about. So I went home and watched the movie I had forever considered too loud and finally figured out what all the fuss was about the lady in the TV. I’d wanted to hate it so I could tell her how lame she was. Like any kid, I didn’t want my mom to be “hot” or “cool”–she was my mom. I was supposed to be the “cool,” “hot” one–not her! But staring at the screen that day, I realized no one is, or ever will be, as hot or as cool as Princess F-cking Leia. (Excuse my language. She’s just that cool!) Later that year, I went to Comic-Con with my mom. It was the first time I realized how widespread and deep people’s love for Leia was, even after so many years. It was surreal: people of all ages from all over the world were dressed up like my mom, the lady who sang me to sleep at night and held me when I was scared. Watching the amount of joy it brought to people when she hugged them or threw glitter in their faces was incredible to witness. People waited in line for hours just to meet her. People had tattoos of her. People named their children after her. People had stories of how Leia saved their lives. It was a side of my mom I had never seen before. And it was magical. I realized then that Leia is more than just a character. She’s a feeling. She is strength. She is grace. She is wit. She is femininity at its finest. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She doesn’t need anyone to defend her, because she defends herself. And no one could have played her like my mother. Princess Leia is Carrie Fisher. Carrie Fisher is Princess Leia. The two go hand in hand. When I graduated from college, like most folks, I was trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. I went to school planning to throw music festivals, but always had this little sliver of me that wanted to do what my parents pushed me so hard not to do–act. I was embarrassed to admit I was even slightly interested. So when my mom called me and told me they wanted me to come in to audition for Star Wars, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal–I even laughed at the concept–but inside I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier. A couple weeks later I went in for my audition. I probably had never been more nervous in my life. I was terrified and most likely made a fool of myself, but I kind of had a great time doing it. I assumed they would never call me, but after that audition, I realized I wanted to give the whole acting thing a shot. I was definitely afraid, but as a wise woman once said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway … The confidence will follow.” About a month later, they somehow ended up calling. And there I was, on my way to be in motherf-cking Star Wars. Whoa. Growing up, my parents treated film sets like a house full of people with the flu: they kept me away from them at all costs. So on that fateful first day driving up to Pinewood, I was like a doe-eyed child. I couldn’t tell my mom, but little sassy, sarcastic, postcollege me felt like a giddy, grateful middle schooler showing up to a fancy new school. On that first day, my mom and I sat next to each other in the hair and makeup trailer. (Actually, she wasn’t really one for sitting, so she paced up and down and around me, occasionally reapplying her already overapplied glitter makeup and feeding Gary, her French bulldog.) Between glitterings, the hairstylist crafted what was to become General Leia’s hairstyle, then it was on to me: little Lieutenant Connix. Funnily enough, my mom had more to say about my hairstyle than her own. Even though she complained for years about how the iconic Leia buns “further widened my already wide face,” she desperately wanted me to carry on the face-widening family tradition! Some people carry on their family name, some people carry on holiday traditions–I was going to carry on the family hairstyle. So after we tested a few other space-appropriate hairstyles, we decided to embrace the weird galactic nepotism of it all and went with the mini–Leia buns. She stood in the mirror behind me and smiled like we had gotten matching tattoos. Our secret-handshake hairstyle. On the first day of this thing I could now call “work,” I walked into the Resistance Base set for rehearsal and J.J. Abrams, the director, told me where to stand and what to do–basically just press some pretty real-looking fake buttons. But I have to say, just pressing those buttons and observing the rest of the scene was one of the most fun things I had ever done. I had no lines in the scene, but my mom kept checking on me like I was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Are you O.K.?” she asked. “Do you need anything?” I scoffed at her maternal questions like a child embarrassed by her mother yelling goodbye too loud in a carpool line: “Mommy, go away! I’m fine. Focus on you, not me!” In the moment, I was humiliated that my mom was moming me on my first day of work, on the Star Wars set, of all places. But now I realize she was just being protective. Sets are extremely intimidating–I was too green at the time to know that–and she assumed I would be scared as hell. But weirdly, I wasn’t. At risk of sounding insane, something about this bizarre new world made me feel right at home. I had found a place with an empty puzzle slot that perfectly matched my weird-shaped puzzle piece. That night, on the long London-traffic-filled ride back from set, she turned to me and smiled. “Bits,” she said. “You know, most people aren’t as comfortable on sets as you were today. Especially on the f-cking Star Wars set, of all places!” (Excuse my language, but that was her language.) “This might be something you should think about doing.” At first I laughed, assuming she was kidding. But she continued to look me straight in the eye with no inkling of irony in sight. My mom was telling me I should act–my mom? The lady who spent my entire life convincing me acting was the last thing I should do? It couldn’t be true. But it was. I haven’t had many moments like this in my life–those aha moments everyone talks about. This was my first real one. My mom wanted me to be an actress. That was when I realized I had to give it a shot. She used to sarcastically quip that she knew all along what a massive hit Star Wars would be. As with most things, she was kidding. She was absolutely and totally beyond shocked by the massive global phenomenon that was the first Star Wars trilogy. It changed her life forever. Then, when it happened again almost 40 years later, she was even more absolutely and totally beyond shocked. It changed her life yet again. But that time, it changed my life too. I thought getting to make one Star Wars movie with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing; then they asked me to come do the next movie and I got to do my once-in-a-lifetime twice. On our second movie together, I really tried to take a step back and appreciate what I was doing. I couldn’t tell her because she’d think I was lame, but getting to watch her be Leia this time made me feel like the proud mom. Watching the original Star Wars movies as a kid in my mom’s bed, I never imagined the lady in the TV would get older and get back in the TV. And I definitely never imagined we would end up in the TV together. But that’s where we ended up. Two little ladies in the TV together–Leia and little Lieutenant Connix. We wrapped The Last Jedi a little less than six months before she died. I went back to L.A. to film the show I was on, and she stayed in London to film the show she was on. One of the last times we spoke on the phone, she talked about how excited she was that the next movie in the trilogy was going to be Leia’s movie. Her movie. She used to say that in the original movies, she got to be “the only girl in an all-boys fantasy.” But with each new Star Wars movie, the all-boys fantasy started to become a boys-and-girls fantasy. She was no longer a part of a fantasy, but the fantasy herself. Leia was not just a sidekick one of the male leads had on his arm, or a damsel in distress. She was the hero herself. The princess became the general. My mom died on Dec. 27, 2016. Two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s and about a year before she was supposed to appear in her final Star Wars film. Losing my mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I lost my best friend. My little lady in the TV. My Momby. And I inherited this weird, intimidating thing called her legacy. Suddenly I was in charge of what would come of her books, her movies and a bunch of other overwhelming things. I was now the keeper of Leia. About a year later, J.J. called me into his office to talk about the plans for Leia. We both agreed she was too important to be written off in the classic Star Wars introductory scroll. This last movie was supposed to be Leia’s movie, and we wanted it to remain that, as much as possible. What I hadn’t known–and what J.J. told me that day –was that there was footage of my mom that they had collected over the years that hadn’t made it into the movies, footage that J.J. told me would be enough to write an entire movie around. It was like she had left us a gift that would allow Leia’s story to be completed. I was speechless. (Anyone who knows me knows that doesn’t happen very often.) J.J. asked me if I would want to come back as Lieutenant Connix. I knew it would be one of the most painful, difficult things I would ever do, but I said yes for her–for my mom. For Leia. For everyone Leia means so much to. For everyone Leia gives strength to. For my future kids, so someday they’ll have one more movie to watch that Mommy and Grandma were in together. So they can ask me about the lady–now ladies–in the TV and tell me to turn it down because it’s too loud. I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. Initially, Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom. Now she’s my guardian angel. And I’m her keeper.