#or even the slightest glimmerings of hope or redemption of some kind

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 1: Lost

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide.

The room is sparsely lit, with a few candles burning, casting eerie shadows across the walls as you walk in to see Astarion perched on his opulent throne. He doesn't look at you as you enter the room, choosing to instead fiddle with his clothing, looking rather bored.

Astarion's expression is as flat as a perfect marble slab, devoid of even the slightest wrinkle of sentiment. It has been since the tadpoles were burned from your brain. He had been different after the Rite, but not entirely unlike the Astarion you knew before. After the Netherbrain had been felled, the changes to his personality started to become more pronounced, until there was nothing left of the man you knew.

"Your future is mine," he says tauntingly, not waiting for you to speak. He already knows why you're here. This is yet another desperate attempt to appeal to his better self, which no longer exists.

"No!" You scream with a scowl, keeping your distance from him. “I thought helping you seize this power would make you happy! I wanted you to feel safe.”

You couldn’t be the reason he lost the chance at everything he ever wanted. Requesting Astarion stay a spawn and live an eternity in the shadows with an insatiable hunger that pained him when there was a way out seemed cruel. This is what he had wanted, and he’d lived long enough under someone else’s command.

And the cost — well, all the worst kinds of atrocities are done in the name of love.

You knew it would change him. How could it not? But had you known that it would change his personality this much, you may have tried harder. Selfish thoughts by and large considering what it would have cost him.

The menacingly cruel edge of his low laughter catches you off guard and sends a chill rocketing through your flesh. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as the sweet sting of bile rises in your throat.

"Darling, I am happy and safe, but I'm so much more now, thanks to you. I was weak and pathetic, but that part of me is dead.” His words are overflowing with contempt and hatred for the man he once was.

What have I done to him?

“You were not weak or pathetic,” you retort with a scowl. “You were perfect the way you were. I love you." You correct yourself, "I loved you.”

Whoever the man is staring back at you through those listless red eyes is not the Astarion you love anymore. You had spent months with this vulgar imitation, hoping to unearth some remnants of the Astarion he used to be, but no aspects of his former self remain. This is just a monster wearing Astarion’s face.

“Oh? That’s very cute,” a low, sarcastic chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“I helped you damn all those people."

“You did, and what a very twee surprise that was, darling. Although they were hardly people, just vile vermin that were rotting in cages, nothing more. They were all but begging for death anyway.”

That’s how he sees me now — another vermin.

“They were people, Astarion. Innocent victims, just like you were.”

“It matters, not now,” he rebuffs flippantly. “I grow tired of this conversation. Begone.”

This is how Astarion dismisses you these days, when he decides he no longer wishes to humour your antics. It's been a shocking change in his behaviour, especially toward you. You now have to request an audience if you wish to speak with him, which he will grant or deny depending on how foul his mood is at any given time. When the conversation grows tiresome for him, he will wave his hand and tell you to get out of his sight. It is surprisingly effective, and you curse yourself for ever allowing him to treat you in such a way. You may never have been the pinnacle of unwavering courage, but you hardly considered yourself to be meek.

When did I start fearing him? 

Clenching your jaw, you try to summon every ounce of courage you can muster in his domineering presence.

I will not let myself be belittled like this anymore.

“No,” you retort in your most assertive tone. “I will not “begone,” you flick your wrist, mimicking his waving gesture with a sarcastic flare. “I am not done talking to you.”

Astarion’s eyes slightly widen in astonishment at your insolence. He lets out a dramatic huff while inspecting his fingernails. “Well, go on then; I’ll allow it.”

You don’t know why you bother, but you try just one more time to get through to him. “This isn’t you, Astarion.”

“Tell me, pet, who did you think I was? I manipulated you, seduced you, slept with you, and used you to get what I wanted - what I DESERVED. It was all a game, little lamb, and you played your part, the lovesick hero, splendidly well,” he snickers, spiteful and harrowing. “Why, I barely had to try. You were easy. I’ve had dead rats resist me with more vigour than you did.”

Could this be the truth that you’ve been denying? Did everything you shared together really boil down to another one of his plots? The Moonrise confession and all the little moments you shared with him after? Was every touch, every kiss, just a beautifully constructed lie?

Your lips quiver as you try to stifle the onslaught of tears, forming salty pools in the corners of your eyes. Every muscle in your body trembles as you desperately struggle to ignore the urge to sink to your knees, defeated. Your dead heart feels heavy in your chest, immersed in an ocean of sorrow. Desperate to find some comfort, you wrap your arms around yourself. The gesture does nothing to quell the throbbing ache in your soul.

You stare at your feet, hoping he won’t see the water brimming in your eyes. “I let you turn me into your spawn. You said—”

He cuts you off swiftly, flicking his wrist in a flippant gesture. ”I said what I had to, my dear.” Atypically dull crimson eyes pierce into you deeper than any blade ever could. “Now you get to spend an eternity with the consequences of your decision."

Unable to hold them back any longer, tears spill out of your eyes and stream down your pallid face as you grieve the death of the man you had fallen in love with. You helped him complete the ritual and turned him into this stranger.

Why did I think it would be different? 

Now, you stand in the dreary wood-panelled ballroom of the Szarr Palace, or the Crimson Palace, as Astarion renamed it, which is once again inhabited by a vampire and his spawn.

The irony is not lost on you.

Sadness dissolves into a flash flood of anger, crushing you beneath the violent cascade. Whether you are angry at him or yourself, you can't tell. Your fists ball up at your sides as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to do.

“You're right. I will spend countless centuries mourning what could have been, but I won't stand by your side as you bring Faerûn to its knees!” Your voice shakes uncontrollably as you try to thrust your rising fear down and force the words out, “I’m leaving.”

“WHAT?” He spits out venomously, eyes wide with outrage at your insubordination, “Don't be stupid, pet. You won't last without me. You need me. Do not forget. If you stray too far from me, the protection from the sun I so generously bestow on you will cease. You will belong to the shadows.” He drawls, obviously pleased with the power he has over you.

You stare into the eyes you barely recognize any longer, searching them for any sign of home, but home does not gaze back at you. It hasn’t for months. You shrug despondently. “Then I will endure that dark future or burn.”

His eyes narrow, and he stares at you with a tight-lipped scowl. His expression screams danger. There was once a time when you believed he would never hurt you purposefully, but you aren't so confident anymore. You’ve been a guest in the kennels and a prisoner in your room more times than you care to remember.

In a vain attempt to put further distance between you, you take a slow step back. He grins triumphantly as his eyes follow your slight retreat. He relishes your fear of him, but you have good reason to be afraid. This version of him is not gentle.

"I could make you stay, you know." He purrs, leaning forward threateningly with his brows pulled low over his eyes. ”With the tadpole gone, you’re mine to command as I see fit.”

Shaking your head dismally, you sigh, “So be it.”

You force yourself to turn away from him and begin to make your way through those gloomy, empty halls to the door. Your steps echo through the stale air of the otherwise silent palace. Astarion stalks after you like a predator stalks their prey, and your skin prickles, alerting you to the looming threat.

Reaching the door, you pull it open, and pale silver moonlight floods the entryway. You expect your body to disobey you as Astarion takes your control, your agency, from you by force. You pensively await the command, but nothing happens.

"You wouldn't dare,” he says challengingly. His face contorted into a hideous grimace of anger and hatred.

"Goodbye, Astarion."

He had been right all along - you were so naive. You had truly believed that you would spend eternity by his side, as he had promised. Maybe he had loved you once, but whatever was left of that love was hideously twisted and wrapped like the trees had been in the Shadowlands.

"Don't ever come back," he growls with bared fangs.

You turn to glance at the man you loved for the last time. Despite the ever-increasing evidence to the contrary, you had hoped that maybe the man you loved was still in there somewhere, buried beneath all that corrupting power. It was a beautiful fantasy that kept the harsh truth at bay - your Astarion had died along with all the others during the Rite.

The shimmering moonlight cascading into the foyer dances over the features of his face handsomely. Even with the sinister scowl he wears, he is still the most beautiful person you have ever seen and perhaps will ever see. Your heart leaps into your throat with the sudden realization that if you walk out of this door, there will be no coming back.

A lonely, dark eternity stretches out in front of you, but it’s time to let him go.

There’s a moment where you catch the slightest flicker in his eyes, and his expression softens momentarily, but it’s gone so quickly that you chalk it up to nothing more than your imagination.

“I wish you happiness, Astarion,” you say as a single tear escapes your eye, rolls down your cheek, and let the door click closed behind you.

It has been just over a year since that night—a year of darkness, of unforgiving and sometimes all-consuming hunger, of learning how to exist as a vampire spawn, and a year without him. You never would have guessed you could miss someone in a way that hurts you physically, like there is a hole in you somewhere that you can't find, and nothing seems to fill that aching breach.

Slipping out of your small, dark room, you make your way down the worn staircase leading to the common area. The wood creaks and groans under your steps. The amber light from the fireplace dances and flickers, illuminating the large, sparsely decorated room. It was pleasantly warm down here, and the smell wafting around through the air brings back some fond, and some not-so-fond, memories of camp.

Shadowheart sits in one of the padded wooden chairs near the fire. Surprise crosses over her face as she glances up from the book balanced delicately on her lap - Selunite literature, no doubt.

Her smile is warm and welcoming as she closes the hefty text. "How are you?"

"I’m fine," you say uneasily. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump of her heart causes your hunger to tighten its grip and makes your mouth salivate with longing.

Gale and Shadowheart had come to find you when they learned you left Astarion. The pair had eventually found you hiding in the sewers, starved, dirty, and alone. Gale in particular had been quite “miffed” with you, as he put it, that you hadn’t tried to contact them as soon as you fled from the palace.

How do you tell your friends you didn’t seek them out because you were afraid you would hurt them or even kill them?

The hunger is unquenchable and relentless. It’s always whispering in the back of your mind, encouraging you to commit heinous acts with honeyed promises that it will finally allow you some peace, if only for a little while. They are used to Astarion’s restraint, which you decidedly do not possess.

You aren’t the same person they knew, and you don’t want to see the disappointment and pity on their faces as you struggle to become accustomed to your new reality.

They had not agreed with your decision to help Astarion usurp the ritual, and they had more than a few choice words for you when you returned to camp as a spawn one morning soon after. It had been unsettlingly quiet at camp for many days afterward, as all your friends glared spitefully at Astarion. He, on the other hand, had found the whole situation quite comical.

Regardless of their personal opinion on the matter, they continued to support you.

Gale and Shadowheart were staying together in an old log house in Rivington while they were working out just what to do with themselves now that they had a future ahead of them. Gale had been making plans to return to Waterdeep, and Shadowheart was still trying to figure out where she fit in now that she had turned her back on the goddess Shar. Any plans they had made for themselves were immediately put on hold to help you, and you despise yourself for holding them back. They should be living their lives, but instead they are stuck with a young spawn who can barely be around them without wanting to drain them dry.

I have so many reasons to hate myself now.

You tried to explain to them that they were in constant danger of living with you. It had been quite an argument, but in the end, they convinced you to move into the spare room they had in their Rivington home. They vowed they would help you find a cure, or at the very least a way to walk in the sun again. Astarion had been right, of course. His sun immunity did not extend to you if you were too far away from him.

“Where is Gale?” The lack of a second heartbeat echoing through the house alerts you to the fact that Gale isn’t at home.

"Gale left this morning to follow up on some leads, I think.” Shadowheart yawns. “He seemed particularly excited about this one. He won't return for nearly a ten-day.”

Gale has been tirelessly searching for possible cures for your condition, with little to no success. You asked him to let the matter rest, but he is not easily dissuaded. Part of you worries that he still holds out hope that if he manages to find a way to cure the vampirism afflicting you, there may yet be a future for the two of you now that Astarion is out of the picture. He confessed his feelings for you during your time in the Shadowlands, but Astarion had already stolen your heart. Gale said he would make do with your friendship if that was all you could offer him, but he had been noticeably hurt. All you can do now is hope you're mistaken about his intentions. A year later, and all the shattered pieces of your heart still belonged to Astarion.

Shadowheart rises from her chair and narrows her eyes, examining you. "Are you sure you're alright?" A sly smile slowly spreads across her face, pulling at the corners of her lips. “You look terribly pale."

Even with the hunger burning through your body excruciatingly, you can’t help but chuckle at that. It had become a running joke between you since you turned into a spawn, and the colour faded from your skin. Shadowheart and you have grown close since you have been staying with them.

You roll your eyes, smiling awkwardly to hide your fangs. "Very funny."

Shadowheart's tone suddenly becomes more serious: "You know, with Gale gone, you could come out of your room more..."

A pang of hope fills her voice, and a familiar ball of shame and guilt sits heavy in your throat. You rarely leave your room these days, sequestering yourself away during the day and disappearing into the night until dawn starts creeping over the horizon.

Shadowheart had confronted you about it some months ago, and you confessed that being around the living was difficult, to say the least. You could hear their hearts pumping blood through their veins, and it was like a beautiful melody to your ears - beautiful and dangerous. It could be hypnotic or seductive, and you fear that one of these days you will lose yourself in that exquisite symphony.

"I'll... try,” you say apprehensively.

"That's all I ask.” She replies happily, “How goes the, uh, shall we say, hunting?”

Groaning loudly, you take a seat at the other end of the room, deliberately keeping as much distance between you and her as possible, and let your head fall into your hands.

Gods. She smells good.

Shadowheart looks at you sadly. "That good, huh?"

To no one's surprise, you are turning out to be a terrible hunter. You’re a skilled sorcerer, not a druid or fleet-footed Rouge like Astarion. You are clumsy and loud in the forest, and you scare away your potential meals more often than you catch them, which means you go hungry regularly. It makes you even more dangerous, bordering on feral.

Even though you’ve been doing this for over a year already, there has been very little improvement in your technique. Shadowheart offered to hunt with you since she was skilled in the art of stealth, but you couldn’t stomach the idea of being alone with her in a secluded place. It put her at too much risk if your morbid temptations overwhelmed you.

Bringing your eyes up to meet hers, a soft, crestfallen sigh slips through your lips. “That good."

Shadowheart covers her concern with a smile, but her eyes survey your body. You know what she’s looking at. ”You will get better at it eventually. It's like learning a dance; it just takes time to memorize the steps."

Time... Time is all I have left these days.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, your jaw clenched tightly, and try to quell the urge to breathe. ”I best be off to try and find myself something to, uh, eat before dawn sneaks up on me."

You are hungry, bordering on starving, and the bloodlust feels insurmountable. It's taking every ounce of control you can muster not to sink your fangs into Shadowheart’s flesh here and now. Your craving sickens you.

"I'll see you later, then?"

You nod and quickly disappear out the door. The night air is crisp and blissfully free of the pleasant aroma of blood. The hunger that was starting to cloud your judgment dissipates ever so slightly as you walk towards the woodland thicket surrounding the sleeping town.

The forest is peaceful, with a slight breeze rustling through the leaves on the towering trees. The moon shines brightly in the inky void of the sky, and beams of pale light penetrate the canopy above you, shifting with the wind. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the frantic scurrying of fleeing animals through the dry brush covering the forest floor. Despite your best attempts at being quiet, the wildlife has clearly already heard you prowling.

There goes any chance I had at eating tonight.

Sighing, you take a seat on a moss-covered boulder protruding from the earth and look up at the small flecks of light scintillating in the night sky. Your idle mind drifts to Astarion as it so often does, replaying pleasant memories now turned sour and saturated in heartache.

Curiously, there has been no word of any arising nobles in Baldur’s Gate nor any new domineering force threatening the city. Shadowheart and Gale have scoured Wyrm's Crossing, the flophouses, taverns, and the Lower City tirelessly over the last year, expecting to find an increasing number of vampire spawn harassing the city's remaining residents, but to no avail. If Astarion was moving forward with his plans to conquer Baldur’s Gate, he was doing it with surprising restraint.

“I already hear the world whispering in sweet surrender.”

Shuddering at the memory, you push it back into the recesses of your mind. Despite the unsettling absence of his presence in Baldur’s Gate, you always feel him somehow in a way that is hard to describe in words. As if another presence lingers somewhere in your consciousness, just out of your reach. Cazador had mentioned a bond between creator and creation, and you can’t help but wonder if that weight you feel is what allows Astarion to turn you into his puppet, if he ever chooses to do so.

The tendrils of dawn are starting to reach out of the horizon, marking another night of failure to find any substantial source of sustenance.

How long can I go on like this? How did Astarion control his hunger? He had made it look so effortless, like breathing.

Even though you travelled with him all that time, you could never have prepared yourself for how hard the bloodlust is to control. The insatiable hunger gnaws at your insides every second of every day. It is maddening. It takes every ounce of control you have to keep it from consuming you completely, but the hungrier you get, the harder it becomes to control. You often weep quietly in your room as the fierce pangs of hunger rip and tear at your insides.

Reluctantly, you start to make your way back home, destined to spend another day locked away from everything and everyone you once held dear. Multiple times you’ve contemplated allowing the sun to rise and put an end to your perpetual suffering, but you have been unable to go through with it.

I'm a coward.

Near the outer edge of town, a familiar smell assaults your senses: powdered iron vine.

The Gur.

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

AO3 [Crossposted]

[thewatercolours]

King's Quest Ficlet 4.5: "On the Other Hand" (a.k.a more Goblin Graham)

Part One here.

“Dad.”

“I am not talking about abdications with you again, Gwendolyn. Come to me again in two years and we might begin to have a conversation.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! Stop jumping to conclusions. It’s got nothing to do with that. I just… You know what, if the timing’s off,, never mind. I don’t mean that in a storm out of the room way, but if we can’t make this work -”

“Sweetheart. I’m sorry. Have a seat – there’s enough room on this banister for two. Look, I don’t mean to put words in your mouth. It’s possible this has been on my mind even more than it’s been on yours.”

“Well, I don’t know about that…”

“Regardless, you wanted to talk about something else?”

“Yes. Grandpa’s old mirror – the one with the purple light. I found it while we were sorting through Grandma’s things after her funeral, wrapped up in a craft quilt. I’ve been keeping it under my pillow, and sometimes at night it lights up.”

“Well… it’s your right as Queen of Daventry to do what you like with it, but why hide it away? Isn’t it more use to the kingdom in a public place like the great hall?”

“Maybe. But… it shows me all about Grandpa’s past. And it doesn’t always match what he told me. Frankly, it gets a bit disturbing.”

“Well, my dad made no bones about it that he never let an accurate detail get in the way of a good story.”

“Yeah, I’ve always known that. It’s more the nature of the differences. Sometimes they play out exactly like I remember him telling me – usually when I ask it for a story, that’s what happens. But when it wakes me up in the middle of the night – it shows other things.”

“Some kind of dark magic infiltrating the mirror?”

“Possibly… but I don’t get that feeling. And the mirror supposedly has never steered anyone wrong. I’ve been running on the assumption that Grandpa left out the things that would have been too intense for a little girl, and the mirror is showing the true eversion, but that doesn’t quite add up either.”

“That… does sound troubling. Tell me more.”

-----

“You’re okay. Talking, talking, talking. Right this second. Definitely not going to forget what my voice sounds like. Nope. Gotta keep it limber. Up and down the scales, well-oiled. Yes, speaking out loud. Let me tell you a story about the time Whisper and I had to pass ourselves off as each other….”

Graham babbled to himself as most of his toes wrapped themselves in different directions round and through the ponderous chain, allowing him a foot-only grip while his fingers searched for the three-inch ledge at the top of the shaft. He’d given up wearing up boots or stockings because every other toe had grown too long to fit. There was a restlessness in them, and in his fingers too. They demanded to grab, to grasp, to scrabble and climb. If he didn’t indulge them frequently, they took their revenge over the next twenty-four hours, with mad, unstoppable fidgeting, or trembling when he tried to settle to sleep. At first scaling the rock outcroppings and dents in the shaft walls worked, but it grew too easy to be satisfy his digits—he could perch on anything and climb several stories within a minute. So he’d taken to climbing the lift chains attached to his cell roof. A kind of crumby grease coated the hulking chains and it had been impossible to get a hold on when they’d first locked him in here, but no more.

“The trouble was, Whisper categorically refused to take off his helmet. He said it would be pointless anyway, because his majestic mane would look completely different on me.”

Graham found the ledge. His toes loosened themselves of the chain’s ins and outs, and he leapt up two feet, landing neatly on the edge, hunching over on himself to fit beneath it and the shaft’s ceiling.

(He’d fit just fine without so much hunching. The shrinking wasn’t as evident as the other changes, but it was happening, to judge by the way his shirt hung down almost to his knees. He hunched anyhow.)

One time he’d grown dizzy in the dark, lost track of gravity, and unknowingly shimmied down the chain upside down without the least difficulty. He had no idea of his direction until his head came up into a puddle of water on the roof of his cell. Well, down into it.

“Now, I needed that helmet for the sake of the disguise, but I have to admit, my motives weren’t entirely pure. I had never got a glimpse of Whisper’s face, and curiosity gnawed at me…”

He didn’t dare touch his face. Not even to rub the crust out of his eyes. He used the nascent claws that began to grow beyond the quick as his excuse when he want to feel like less of a lily-liver. But on honest nights (or days), Graham knew it was simply because it was his face. The clammifying and monstering of elbows or ankles or collarbones – that was terrifying but confrontable. But to feel his own face gone, replaced by something it shouldn’t be – that wasn’t so much a skin-crawling horror as an all-systems-shut-down horror. Maybe if he had nerved himself to explore his face that very first day when he’d begun to suspect he was transforming, and followed its tiny evolutions every day, he could have come to queasy terms with it. But it was too late after all this time, for he honestly didn’t know how much of himself he’d find left.

That didn’t stop Graham from guessing. He could not tell whether his jaw and cheekbones were changing structure, or if the odd tingles and numbings were his imagination’s response to his fixation on them. Blinking felt different —but he didn’t have a proper point of comparison. He’d never bothered to commit the nuances of blinking like a human to memory. It didn’t occur to you that you might regret things like that. Were his canines sharper? Did goblins have mouths full of fangs? Never having seen a goblin’s naked face, he couldn’t even surmise.

“You stopped talking. We’ve been over this. You just end up hurting when you stop. That’s our rule, remember?” Something broke in his voice, but he made himself go on. “Focus. Find the parts that still sound like you, and use them.”

Swallowing, he blanked out on anything further to say. “I—but, it’s just that… hardly any of it still sounds like…”

His right ear itched worse than his mother’s homemade laundry starch. But he refused to scratch it. It itched farther away from his head than should have been possible.

This time, the silence stayed.

[saturn-181]

This is probably one hell of a stretch, but I’ve always had this theory, and now that there might be evidence of it with the other brothers, I feel like it’s okay to speak on it.

Shu Having a Past Bride?

Oh dear, hear me out. There’s already been speculations that maybe Reiji had two past brides he (wanted to) marry/married. And I’ve always thought that maybe, Shu once had a bride he actually got quite comfortable with.

They never got married, or probably ever became a thing, but sometimes Shu would actually find a lot of comfort in her company. I could only assume this because I feel like we all know that’d only hurt Shu more if he got attached, they didn’t survive the awakening, and he’d be alone again.

But I feel like even the first time we’ve been betrayed or hurt (ex: Edgar), there’s always still a time when we find a bit of comfort in someone or something, and we decide to trust a little again. I can’t shake the feeling there might’ve been another push into Shu hiding out from the world.

Most of us have gotten hurt before, maybe not a complete loss of a friend, but when we feel the need for some type of redemption, we’d be willing to trust that a moment won’t be ruined.

And like I said, I feel as though there might’ve been a bride that was really kind and understanding to Shu, but she ended up not surviving the awakening. But in a way, I also feel like Shu would know she wouldn’t survive? So as it goes, the more you drink, the more you turn, correct? Maybe he actually tried to help her have a higher chance of survival but it just didn’t come to happen.

Perhaps that might’ve been Shu’s real and full push into shutting out. When we’ve been isolated from others so long, even a slightest bit of kindness can come to mean a lot, almost like a glimmer of hope. Over hundreds of years (assuming), I just can’t see that any of the boys would just kill and hate every bride to walk in the door. Surely they must’ve had at least one that did catch their attention, but it was never able to happen.

MC being the first bride to survive the awakening, it was also like a sense of security. “Just keep her alive yourself and she’ll be okay, correct?” that alone was enough for Shu to decide it might be okay to get attached, although still trying to push her away.

The same way they can be traumatized like humans, the same they can learn and make mistakes, I don’t see a reason they wouldn’t make such a “foolish” mistake like any other human.

Again, this is just a theory of mine, though. So it’s really up to interpretation. But if Reiji can have speculations to have had two brides before MC, who’s to say Shu or any of the other brothers didn’t have a bride they saw of interest as well?

[magnhild]

When Not to Redeem: Steven Universe, RWBY and She-ra

If there’s one thing these shows have in common aside from being fantastic fantasy cartoons, it’s that they all have a villainous character in them that some of the fandom are begging to be redeemed, despite the fact they probably really shouldn’t be. 

Redemption has become big in the field of television ever since the days of Avatar: The Last Airbender, which pulled off a deep, up-and-down and wonderfull-written redemptive arc for Prince Zuko, the main antagonist. Since then, a call for villainous redemption has been commonplace if fandoms, especially when it comes to animated shows. But what many people fail to understand is that it’s not a simple change to make and there need to be a lot of factors in place to have the villain be deserving of redemption and to have it be believable.

Now let’s look at these three ladies.

Jasper, Cinder Fall and Catra are some of the biggest, meanest villains from their respective series. And yet, especially in the case of Jasper and Catra, the fandoms are begging for redemption for their ‘precious babies’. Why? Well, because a lot of these people have a deep misunderstanding of what redemption really is and under what circumstances it should happen. One thing these characters have in common is that they all have- though it’s only implied in Cinder’s case- a tragic backstory. Jasper has deep issues with her self-worth due to being created under unfortunate circumstances, Cinder is based off Cinderella and so likely grew up in an abusive household and Catra has been abused her whole life and then had her best friend leave her for the good guys. So, they’re probably pretty sad sometimes. In fact, Catra’s sad quite a lot. She and both of the others have all had moments in their shows that may have had us feeling a tad sorry for them. Sooo they should be redeemed right?

Wrong. 

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy all three of these characters. But I enjoy them because they’re evil; because they’re actual threats and because powerful female villains are really cool. And have found myself feeling sorry for each of them at their lowest points. But having a tragic backstory and showing any emotion aside from ‘evil’ does not mean they deserve redemption. It’s a good start if you are going to redeem your characters, but several other factors should apply for the best results. 

The first thing- and this is the most important- is that a character needs to actually acknowledge that they've done wrong. But all three of these characters either wholeheartedly believe that they are the ones on the right path or know and simply don’t care, so long as they’re getting what they want. In the case of Zuko, he came to realize over the course of two seasons that the Fire Nation wasn’t as great and powerful as he’d thought and that he wasn’t doing the right thing by enforcing their rules over everyone else. This is what ultimately led him towards his path of redemption. Neither Jasper, Cinder or Catra have had this heel realization, so turning good all of a sudden isn’t a realistic path for them in the slightest. 

Then there’s the factor of actually regretting their actions. It’s been implied in the last couple of seasons of She-ra that Catra, at least, may have a subconscious regret over what she’s done, but it can be argued that anyone would after almost destroying the entire universe and yourself in the process. Jasper and Cinder, however, have never once shown remorse for their several murder attempts- and successful murders, in Cinder’s case. If you don’t regret hurting people, it should be a good sign that you are not deserving of redemption or even forgiveness. 

The last important factor is one that doesn’t yet relate to any of the three characters I’ve been discussing, but it’s important nonetheless- redemption should never be a straightforward path. It needs to be bumpy. It needs to be gradual. There must be steps backward. Zuko didn’t immediately switch sides the moment he discovered the extent of the Fire Nation’s harm. He spent a whole season in conflict over it and then took several steps backwards when he allowed his sister Azula to manipulate him into taking down the heroes and returning to his villainous father. It wasn’t until halfway through the show’s final season that he realized he still wasn’t happy and had betrayed his uncle’s faith in him by making the wrong decision. And even after siding with our heroes, he still retained his grumpy personality. The change wasn’t drastic, but instead gradual and realistic. 

Now, in the case of Jasper, all of this is for naught. Steven Universe, while one of my favourite shows, doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to redemption, with almost all of the villain redemptions being met with backlash from fans and critics. They do somewhat have an excuse; Steven Universe is set in an idealized fantasy world where it actually is possible for super bad people to truly regret their actions and want to do better. However, it still pushes the idea the bad people should be forgiven, which is a questionable moral. And in Jasper’s case, it appears she is still beginning to be redeemed despite not acknowledging her faults and not feeling any remorse whatsoever for what’s she’s done. At the very least, it’s looking to be gradual, but with 10 episodes left in the series, it may still end up being rushed. 

For Cinder, I can’t find myself believing that she will ever be redeemed and I’ll be extremely annoyed if she ever is. RWBY doesn’t have Steven Universe’s trait of being a kid’s shown about forgiveness; it’s far more grounded in reality when it comes to how people act and it would be much too far-fetched if Cinder- who takes great joy in causing others pain because it makes her feel powerful- were to suddenly side with our heroes, especially given her extreme grudge against Ruby. Cinder is at her best as she is- a manipulative, clever and truly-evil villain.

Catra, I’m still on the fence about. As mentioned earlier, she literally tried to destroy the entire universe as petty revenge against her ex-best friend. Were this RWBY, I would be adamant that she never be redeemed. Luckily for She-ra, this is a kid’s show and doesn’t need to be as realistic in such terms. It would be great if it was, but I can accept that it isn’t. At the end of season 4, it looks as if Catra is going to be forming some kind of alliance with Glimmer, if just so they can escape their situation. Whether or not she’ll go back to being a villain after that is unknown, but I can’t help but feel she’s headed for a full redemption anyway. And with only two short seasons left, I’m not sure they have enough time to pull it off. Perhaps they’ll surprise me and do the best they can, but it seems more likely that it will be a rushed effort where all Catra will have to do is apologize to be immediately accepted as a good guy. Only time will tell.

To recap, these are the three most important factors in a good and effective villain redemption:

Acknowledgement of wrongdoing

Remorse for wrongdoing

A gradual and rocky path to goodness

The weight of what the villain has done should also be a considered factor, but this will differ from show to show depending on how realistic the characters and their decisions are. Though, if a character has murdered several people for their own enjoyment and power, it would probably be a good idea not to try and redeem them. That’s not a great message to send under any circumstance.

Hopefully, this little essay has made you think twice about which characters you want to be redeemed, or maybe even helped you decided whether or not you want to redeem a villain in your own story. And if not, I hope it was a fun read anyway.

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Redemption of Ceara Chapter 8

Written by: Braxxus

Chapter 8: She Was One of My Best Students

Sometimes the future leads to the past

     “The hall of records is on sub level D of the college administration sector.” The golem spoke in an electronic voice.

     “Ok, but how do I get there?” Amaranda asked it.

     “Follow descending ramp D to Elevator 3C, then follow descending ramp B-“

     “That doesn’t tell me anything!” she said raising her voice. “You asura have nothing marked here! How in Tyria does one find their way around in this city?” She slapped the information golem on top of its chassis.

     “Alert…repeated assault will result in alerting the authorities.” It barked.

     She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I hate these places.” She sighed. She looked around the immediate area. The Asura were everywhere, running about, showing off their latest inventions to each other, talking of gadgets and theories that Amaranda didn’t have the slightest knowledge about.

     “Will someone please help me?” she asked out loud. “Anyone!?” Her pleas went seemingly ignored by the general populace. Sighing, she started walking through the city, looking for any other Sylvari, human or any other race that might be able to offer some assistance since it seemed the Asura were too preoccupied with anything and everything. It wasn’t long before she found a rampway that descended to the lower level of the city.

     “The golem said descending ramp D…” she said to herself looking around for any kind of markings. There were none. “Well, I guess I’ll take my chances. I’ll either find what I’m looking for or I’ll be be lost in the bowels of this city forever.” she said as she walked down the ramp. The ramp exited out into what looked like a small market area.

     “Oh, thank the pale tree!” she exclaimed as she spied two humans together near one of the stands. “Excuse me! I’d like to talk to you!” she exclaimed as she hurried over to them.

     “Yes?” one asked turning towards her.

     “I hope you can help me. I seem to be lost in this twisted maze of a city.”

     One of the humans chuckled a little. Amaranda’s face went deadpan. “What is so funny?” she asked.

     “It’s easy to get lost here. What are you looking for?” the other asked.

     “I’m trying to find information on one of the students that studied here. I’m told that there is a ‘hall of records’ that would give me such information. Do you know where it might be?” The duo looked at each other momentarily with puzzled looks. They turned back and shrugged a little.

     “I’m sorry, Miss, but we don’t know where that might be.” Amaranda’s glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished. Again, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh, slowly shaking her head. “Did you try one of the information golems?” one of them asked.

     “Indeed, I did. It was of no help either.” she said walking away.

     “I’ll help you” a gruff voice said from nearby. Amaranda turned to see an older Asura walking up to her.

     “I thank you. Can you take me to the hall of records?”

     “Indeed I can. Follow me.” He started walking away from her.

     “Finally.” She sighed and followed behind him.  “Can you tell me your name, kind sir?” she asked.

     “Varvar.” he responded. “and yours?”

     “Amaranda.”

     “And what brought you to Rata Sum?”

     “I’m on a search for information about one of the students that attended the schools here.”

     “Oh?” He asked. “Well, who might this person be?”

     “Well, My sister.”

     He stopped walking, pausing for a moment before slowly turning towards her. “Sister?”

     “Yes, sister-”

     “There’s only been one Sylvari who attended these colleges.” He interrupted, a look of disdain on his face.

     “I know, and…she’s…”

     “She tried to fit a square block into a round hole and it drove her mad. Why are you looking for her information? You should know everything about her already, shouldn’t you?”

     “I need to find her teacher.”

     “Omadd is dead.” He responded.

     “Yes, I know. But she had others. Please help me. It’s very important.”

     He nodded his head and took a deep breath. “Ok, come on.”

     “She wasn’t a bad person before…” Amaranda started. “She just…just…just got lost somewhere…”

     “On her way to the Eternal Alchemy, and ‘lost’ is an understatement, but I’ll take your word for it.” Varvar replied. “But her actions speak for themselves. The things she did. I can guarantee they’ll never be forgotten nor forgiven.” Amaranda fell silent, sadness passing over her as she thought about how Ceara may never have true peace after her traumatic ordeal. It wasn’t long before they approached a teleport tube.

     “Here we are. This will take you down to the proper level.”

     “What is this?”

     “It’s a teleport chute. You haven’t used these before?”

     “I’m sorry, but not in a very long time. I do not spend much time in the cities.”

     “A country bumpkin, are you? Just step in and it will instantly take you to where we want to go.”

     Amaranda thought about the warp gates she had to use recently. “I hate these things.” she said out loud, stepping into the chute. In the blink of an eye she was standing in another part of the city, somewhat unsteady as she looked at her new surroundings. Varvar appeared next to her.

     “See? Not so bad.” He quipped as he started walking. “Come on, this way.”

     “Are we close?” she asked taking in the sites of the area. Glowing holograms floated in the air around various kinds of terminals. Asura working relentlessly on their gadgetry, surrounded by equipment that beeped and chirped constantly in a myriad of tones.

     “We’re getting there.” Varvar replied.

     “I can see why she was fascinated with being here.” Amaranda quipped. “All this…this equipment and technology.”

     “We’re always on the move. Everyone is looking for the next big thing. Trying to be the next big name. I gave up on that a long time ago. Too stressful. Decided to just be me.”

     “I see.”

     “Your sister could have been something great…well…great in a good way, had the council listened to her.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “She studied the Eternal Alchemy in such great capacity, that she was able to ordain information that no Asura had ever determined. She presented her findings to the Arcane Council, and they accused her of blasphemy. They rejected her findings. And yet, now they use her research to their advantage.”

     “They stole her research from her?”

     “Yep. And put their names on it. Those stiffs at the top couldn’t stand the fact that a Sylvari, who they consider to be somewhat primitive in thought, could actually glean more information about the Eternal Alchemy than any Asura.”

     “That explains why she turned to the Inquest.”

     “Possibly, but they didn’t help either. They betrayed her as well, and that got her ejected from the colleges.”

     “I see.” Amaranda fell silent as she thought about her sister. “It seems all your life you were met with tragedy and disappointment. Your search for a better understand of life seemingly always lead you down the wrong path. Ceara…I promise it won’t always be like this. It will be better.” She thought to herself.

     “You’ve become awfully quiet back there.” Varvar grunted.

     “I’m sorry. Just a lot on my mind at the moment.”

     “Mhm. Anyway, one entrance to the hall of records is just up ahead. It might be a little tough to convince them to let us view her records, though. They don’t let just anyone access the record files, but I might be able to persuade them if they are reluctant.” As they approached the entrance, one of the guards stepped forward.

     “Varvar, what are you doing here?” the guard asked.

     “We came for tea and bread. Didn’t you get the invite?” Varvar retorted sarcastically. The guard looked at him, obviously not amused.

     “What do you really want?”

     “We just need to check some records. Why else would we be here?”

     The guard eyed Amaranda momentarily. “Alright.” he finally replied. “Just don’t cause any trouble.” The duo entered the facility. Amaranda looked around at all the Asura technology lining the walls. Varvar approached an Asura wearing large glasses sitting behind a desk. Large screens floated in the air around him.

     “What is it this time, Varvar?” he asked.

     “Nice to see you again too, Krugg.” Varvar retorted. “We need to see the records of a certain student.” Krugg looked up from the desk at Amaranda.

     “A sylvari? If this has something to do with who I think it is, that is off limits. Those records are sealed permanently. Only Councilor Flax can order those files unsealed.”

     “You can’t even give us a peek?”

     “Please, sir. It’s of vital importance. More people will suffer and die if we are not allowed to see that information.” Amaranda interjected.

     “No can do. Now go away. As you can see, I’m extremely busy.” Krugg said sternly, turning back to his screens.

     “Psshh…you won’t even help save the world? Imagine the fame and notoriety you will gain!”

     “What are you talking about?”

     “Imagine the fate of the Tyria hanging in the balance on this very moment.” Varvar said slyly. “But then the world erupts into flames because you refused to allow us to view those records. But if you did…why you could be deemed savior of Tyria!”

     Krugg glanced at Varvar, who was smirking confidently.

     “I think you’re lying.” Krugg retorted. “Now get out of here before I call security.”

     “Oh?” replied Varvar. “How about I make you a deal. You let us see those files, and I won’t reveal your nightly activities.”

     Krugg looked at Varvar, slightly concerned.

     “That party. It’s not wise for college personel, especially members of higher caliber such as yourself., to partake of…what did you call it?  Wing Dings?”

     “I never…” Krugg’s sentence was cut short by Varvar’s finger on his mouth.

     “You let us see those files and no one will ever know.”

     “How did you know!?” Krugg asked exasperatedly, trying to keep his voice down.

     “Eyes and ears on the street, my boy.” Varvar replied smugly, his smirk growing on his face. “Now is our ‘paperwork’ in order?”

     Krugg breathed in deep. “Fine.” He said through gritted teeth. “It seems your ‘paperwork’ IS in order. Follow me.” He said loudly.  Varvar winked at Amaranda and gave her a thumbs up. Krugg lead them to another room with a terminal similar in design but smaller than the one he was using. He started typing on the glowing keyboard.

     “You better be right about this saving the world business, Varvar.” He said agitated.

     “Oh I am. You just wait and see. The fate of the world hangs on this moment.” He turned to Amaranda and winked again. She smiled back lightly and then gasped as an image of a younger Ceara appeared on the screen. She brought her hand up to her chest.

     “Something the matter?” Varvar asked confusingly.

     “I…I didn’t realize how adorable she was with roses in her foliage, that’s all.” Amaranda replied.

     “Yes, adorable. Krugg, we need a list of the teachers that taught her.”

     Krugg typed in a command and text started filling the screen. “Hmm…Stigga seems to be the teacher you want.” Varvar said reading over the information. “He has the most knowledge of what she studied here.”

     “You mean the Eternal Alchemy?” Krugg replied snarkly.

     “No need to get uppity, Krugg. Remember you’re saving the world here.”

     “I thank you.” Amaranda replied. “Where I might find him?”

     “He’s at the College of Synergetics. I’ll take you there.”

     “Oh thank you!” she quipped.

     “Don’t mention it. And Krugg, remember you just saved all of Tyria. Good job!” Varvar said pointing finger guns at the younger Asura.

     “So what are ‘wing-dings’?” Amaranda asked as they left the building.

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     Ceara wasted no time travelling through the countryside of the human kingdom of Kryta. She was heading east towards the Shiverpeak Mountains to visit a familiar cave that lay underneath the Durmond Priory in the hopes of finding anything that might help her. A kind farmer had given her a lift part of the way, taking her into the rolling hills of Gendarran Fields. She could see the piled wreckage of the gateway to Lion’s Arch in the distance when she decided to disembark from the farmer’s carriage.

     “Thank you, farmer.” She said quietly, handing him a few coins.

     “Anytime, stranger. I appreciated the company. Be safe out there. Centaurs and bandits are all around.”

     “I will.” She replied as she started walking towards the Lion’s Arch gate. As she approached, she took pause, looking over the refugee camp in the distance. An emptiness filled her chest as she looked down at her hands.

    ��“I did this…” she said to herself. She pulled the hood of her cloak in close and started walking towards the camp. She could make out an asura gate on the far end. She circled the edge of the camp, keeping her distance, watching the refugees and Lionguard move about. She paused as a child’s laughter caught her ear.

     “In times such as this, there is still joy to be found by innocence.” She closed her eyes and sighed deeply before continuing towards the gate. Looking at the Lionguard members guarding the portal, she quickly thought of a plan to get through. She pulled the scarf up over her mouth, holding it in place, coughing sporadically.

     “Halt.” One of the Lionguard ordered. “Where are you going?”

     “Durmond Priory.” She coughed, holding her hand over her mouth. The Lionguardsman looked concerned.

      “Were you exposed to the gas?”

     “Yes.” She coughed. “But I got out before it got too bad.”

     “Then you should be resting. Not out moving about.”

     “I know, sir. But I need to pass through. I…I have family on the other side.” She coughed.

     The guard paused a moment before sighing. “Ok. Just be careful.”

     “Thank you, sir.” She said quietly as she passed through the gate.  

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     Varvar led Amaranda through the halls of the College of Synergetics. It was almost too overwhelming for her. Asura were everywhere, talking about things she had never heard of, showing off their inventions to their classmates.

     “How in Tyria can you asura tolerate all this…this…this chaos?” she asked Varvar.

     “It’s easy if you just ignore most of it.” He replied. He led her into the administration area of the college. There was an asuran female tending to a console.

     “Yes?” she spoke in a snide tone as the duo approached, barely acknowledging their presence.

     “We’re looking for Professor Stigga. Is he in?” Varvar asked rather cheerfully.

     “Yes, fourth office on the left.” Her voice rather monotone.

     “Thank you!” he replied. They started moving past the console.

     “Wait a minute!” the clerk said raising her voice. They turned to see her tapping at another screen, still staring at her console. “Sign in please.” Varvar quickly typed in their names before continuing on their way.

     “She didn’t even look at us. It’s as if we just ruined her day by coming here.” Amaranda noted.

     “When you’re stuck at a dead-end job as a clerk, it sort of ruins your perspective on life.” He replied. “Ah, here we are. Stigga’s office” Standing in the doorway, they could see an older asura sitting at a desk, various holographic screens floating around him. A small golem hovered nearby. The asura turned to them, looking over his glasses.

     “Can I help you?” he asked in an authoritative voice.

     “Hello, Stigga. How’s it going?” Varvar asked in a jolly tone.

     “What do you want, Varvar?”

     “This Sylvari is looking for information on one of your former students.” Varvar replied. Stigga paused from typing on of the screens for a moment before slowly turning towards them.

     “Is this about who I think it is?” He asked sternly.

     “It’s about Ceara, sir.” Amaranda replied. Stigga took a deep breath.

     “You best not bother about that one. She was very bright, one of my best students, but her ways were very unorthodox.”

     “But sir, we’re trying to find out what happened to her in that machine. What did she see?”

     “We all know what happened to her in that device. It shattered her mind. That’s common knowledge.”

     “Yes, but…her ghost…I’ve seen it. It’s powerful, with some plan to do something terrible. We need to figure out how to stop it. Please sir, can you help us?” Amaranda pleaded. Stigga stared at her for a moment.

     “Very well, follow me. I’m going to introduce you to two of my students who I am sure would be glad to help you.” Stigga lead them to another part of the college nearby. They entered a small lab that was filled with gadgets and paperwork everywhere. Two asura, a male and a female, were working at a workbench in the middle of the room.

     “Front and center, you two.” Stigga ordered. The two asura looked up at him.

     “What did we do now?” the male asked.

       “Just get over here. You’re going out in the field. This sylvari has a ghost problem and you two are going to help her solve it.”

     “YES!!” the female one exclaimed excitedly. “This lab was becoming a bit too stuffy!” They walked over and stood in front of Stigga. Stigga then turned to Amaranda.

     “Shikijo and Joujou will be more than willing to help you in whatever you need.” He said to her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to.” He left the lab.

     “Well, now that you have the help you need, I’ll be taking my leave as well.” Varvar said.

     “Thank you, Varvar. You have been a great help.” Amaranda said.

     “It was nothing. Good luck in whatever it is you are trying to do.” He said as he walked out of the lab.

     “So, sylvari, what is your name?” asked the female.

     “Amaranda. Nice to meet you.” Amaranda replied.

     “I’m Joujou, and this is Shikijo. So, what kind of ghost problem do you have? Seems unusual for a sylvari to have a ghost problem.”

     “It’s Scarlet Briar. She’s gaining power through the use of chaos energy and has some kind of plan to use it to strengthen the jungle dragon. We need to figure out how to stop her.”

     There was a long silence as the duo looked at Amaranda somewhat dumbfounded. “THE Scarlet Briar? The Terror of Tyria? The same that destroyed Lion’s Arch? Are you sure?”

     “Yes, quite sure.” Amaranda replied.

     “Um…oh, this is…is a lot bigger than we anticipated.” Shikijo said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

     “We accept the challenge!” Joujou exclaimed excitedly. “Let’s get this show on the road!” The duo ran through the lab grabbing up equipment.

     “Grab the spectrometer.”

     “Got it, what about the psychoenergetic analyzer.”

     “Yes, we need that. Where is it?”

     “Um…in that box maybe?...What about over there?”

     “Found it. Oh hey. I also found that lost photon reversal thermodongler we’ve been looking for.

     “Well put it someplace where we’ll find it.”

     “That’s what we did last time and we still lost it.”

     When they were finished racing around the lab they approached Amaranda. “So where are we headed!?” asked Shikijo.

     “Um..well, it moves around a lot. It’s been in Lion’s Arch, Kessex Hills, Divinity’s Reach for sure. Other places as well it seems.” Amaranda told them.

     “Hmm…Lion’s Arch is where she supposedly died. Let’s start there.” Joujou said. “So, Amaranda, anything we should know about this ghost?”

     “It’s very hostile. It’s as if….” Amaranda paused.

     “As if?” Shikijo asked.

     “As if…Ceara’s madness gained its own sentience and manifested itself.” Amaranda said quietly.

     “Ah, so it’s not so much a ghost, but a part of that sylvari’s mind.” Joujou said thoughtfully.

     “Uh…yes. I think so.”

     “Ha, this will be a cakewalk.” Joujou replied confidently. “Let’s go bust us a ghost!”

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     Ceara exited the asura gate led to the old dwarven ruins that now housed the Durmand Priory. The Priory was a studious institution that collected, researched, and stored magical artifacts and texts in large underground storage chambers to protect them from the dragons, or anything else with malicious intent.  In the mountain side below the Priory was the cave that led to her lair where she stayed while under the control of the jungle dragon. She pulled her cloak in close as the wind in the mountains whipped by her. She was thankful she had built in a small portable heat unit in the power pack to her armor to keep her warm when needed. She paused a moment as she looked over another refugee camp that was set up below the base of the Priory. She closed her eyes for a moment, a tear running down her cheek. She took a deep breath and made her way through the camp cautiously. People hundled together around campfires, wrapped in blankets, eating food from tin cans.

     “I’m sorry…” she whispered to herself. She passed by a post that had a wanted poster of her stuck to it. Various knives and other sharp implements stuck in it. She pulled her cloak closer and made her way to the entrance of the cave. She paused, a flood of memories flashed through her mind. Memories of a time she called this cave her home.

     “This would be so much easier had my teleporter not fried.” She thought entering the cave. “I remember there being a lot of beasties in here. Especially that giant ice worm.” She cautiously made her way down into the cave, which was surprisingly clear. She felt a tad uneasy about it. “Something or someone has been through here.” She murmured to herself as she struck up a small light from one of her satchels. She made it to the edge of the frozen pond that was deep within the cavern. The entrance to her former lair was on the other side. She could hear the ice worms slithering about under the ice.

     “1…2…3!” she darted across the ice. It groaned and cracked under her feet as she ran trying not to lose her footing. The ice exploded behind her as one of the worms crashed through trying to have her as a meal. Mere moments seemed to be an eternity when she finally reached the far side, clamoring as fast as she could up the rocky incline.

     “Well, that was easier than I thought.” She said catching her breath. She was cut short by a noise behind her. She turned to see a figure in the darkness up ahead, holding a torch. It grunted and snarled as it approached her.

     “A troll. I seem to remember they had a dwelling nearby.” She pulled out the pistol she took from her aetherblade assaulter and fired a shot at it. It howled and ran back the way it came. She hurried to the small alcove where the entrance to her lair was located. She paused, noticing the fake holographic wall that hid the entrance was inactive, and the heavy steel door sat opened. Cautionsly, she looked around the entrance before slowly stepping in. The room was dark, activating the switch that powered the few lights did nothing.

     “Thorns…” she whispered. She adjusted the small lamp she held to be as bright as possible. With its light, she was able to make out most of the small cave. Most of her things were gone, with only the rough furniture remaining. All of her notes and drawings, all of her equipment, all missing. Looking up at the ceiling, she saw the red painting of a serpentine dragon that she had painted in her madness. Omadd’s picture still hung in the corner, though the daggers she had stabbed in his eyes were long gone. She slowly raised her hand and lightly dragged her fingers down his face, a mix of anger and sorrow forming in the pit of her stomach.

     “Because of you…I saw it…I saw the Eternal Alchemy…” she remembered that fateful day. Overzealous to finally be able to see the subject of her study. Not knowing what lay in wait for her within it. The face of her creator. She breathed in deeply before she turned to her chair, which still sat in its place, though the console and screen she had were missing as well. She put her hand on the armrest and stared at it before looking over at one of her workbenches. She smiled at the fact that they had even taken the drawing of the rocket propelled dolyak she had wanted to make.

     “I really wanted to make that thing. I could have made it work.” She muttered to herself. “Well…there’s nothing of use to me here.” She sighed as she thought about what transpired in this room months prior. “Just nightmares…and painful memories.”  She walked towards the door, thinking of her next option.

     “It’s a long way to Prosperity.”  

[kemonododo]

Decided to rewatch the whole series after seeing the finale, here's my thoughts as they come along part 3

There was an old He-man reboot that was cancelled after two seasons, season 3 was being set up as the horde conquering Eternia with He-man and his kingdom being forced into hiding as rebels. Apparently She-Ra would also appear, though knowing that show she'd be lucky to be 1/4th as interesting or engaging as our Adora. I'm saying this because, even though that cartoon was cancelled before it could finish it's story, we were lucky enough to see ours to it's end and in a way that story they wanted to tell exists here with us now. Plus I always disliked that they called themselves "The Rebellion" when they weren't really rebelling against anything, but they are now!

Poor Adora, even after all this time she still has that hero complex eating away at her, telling her she's useless unless she's serving others.

Entrapta's ramblings about space this season are very relatable.

Catra's face when she sees Glimmer be manipulated, you can see so much behind her eyes. Fear for her standing, flashbacks to her own manipulation, shock at how unprepared Glimmer is for this. Love how Horde Prime sees right through her afterwards, she has no power over him.

Poor Entrapta, she hasn't been with the other princesses since season 1, they're opinion of her has been soured by her betrayal and appearance to not care. We know she loves her friends and is trying her best, but the wound is still sore.

Horde Prime using Glimmer's dad as a bargaining chip is extra horrible when you remember that this is when she discovers he's alive.

It's great that the show takes a moment to allow Adora to come to grips with no longer having a clear destiny she can follow. She's so used to being told what to do, this is the first time she's truly making her own decisions. Agency that Shadow Weaver begins to take away from her later.

I love Catra's internal struggles in these first few episodes. She's trying to do what she's been doing, working her way up the ladder, but she can't. Not anymore. Her heart isn't in it, she knows this isn't what she wants, she's just going through the motions. Spending time with Glimmer is the only thing she enjoys, she finally slows down for a moment to just enjoy someone's company and really bond. Her turn to good isn't a 180, we see her mind working and how she comes to the decision of sacrificing herself. Seeing that Horde Prime is a complete psychopath helped of course.

I love how Horde Prime's ship has star themed beds.

I don't know how they did it, but they made Hordak recognizable among the other clones. It's like twins, once you get to know them the difference is obvious. You can look at a clone and see he's Hordak, yet he looks identical to the others. It's remarkable.

These flashbacks Catra has, wandering the empty corridors that her decisions have left her in, it's a testimony to how far she's come that they don't reaffirm Adora's betrayal to her anymore. She wants to absolve herself of her sins, and she decides a sacrifice is the best way. She wants to go out on one good grace, redemption by death, but that action and her apology is what makes Adora sure she still has good in her. Catra has shown she is willing to be good, and that alone is enough for Adora to give her another chance.

This is the first time the best friend squad has been together since Glimmer pulled the queen card, a lot of the wounds are still fresh. I definitely think this is the point Bow and her truly realize they love each other, they probably had a schoolyard crush but the realization of where they are without each other and how much they mean to each other, something really deep sparked here.

The Star Siblings are here to show what life under Prime is like, but also as a quick show of the Rebellion's message expanding. That's a little underdeveloped though, which is mostly a product of time.

Adora's little "she's not my friend" bit is adorable but a bit out of place imo, Adora hasn't really been this outwardly lovestruck over Catra before, and while Adora has decided to give her another chance I don't think that reignition of love would have happened yet.

The thought that Entrapta went out to find that LUVD crystal to bring with her in the slightest hope she would find Hordak and that he would recognize it. Plus the noises she makes and the fact she immediately adopts Wrong Hordak and that we get to see her without her mask, ah she is so cute!

Hive Mind Catra is terrifying and tragic, it feels so violating. He talks about how she wanted Adora to save her, how afraid she was when she was assimilated. We see that numbness and how it would seem appealing to her, but under the cracks Catra is still suffering, and Adora promises to bring her back, tells her how much she cares about her, transforms into She-Ra to save her. And finally, they are together again.

I love Adora constantly checking on Catra, this is the first time in years she has been with her, she just wants to be with her. Catra starts falling back into her old ways though, that anger still persistent, and Adora's honeymoon phase is over already and for a second we're all afraid nothing has changed. You can see Catra doesn't want to make that mistake again, and she finally lets Adora help her, and likewise Adora finally steps back and lets Catra help her too. They've both grown so much, and that growth is what allows their relationship to blossom.

It's great that Spinnerella and Netossa get their time to shine this season. Their arc here parallels Catra and Adora's earlier, and I would say it's unfortunate they have to go through this, but I love the angst.

Double Trouble! Back for a five minute appearance where they admittedly don't do much, but hey they're fun to watch and have some great lines so it's worth it.

Catra in a healthy relationship, with friends that don't fear her and people she sees as equals. People she can just joke around with and be teased by. You love to see it.

Melog is a pretty important addition, as he gives Catra someone that she can fully trust without the baggage from before. He's literally her therapy support pet, and he's the one that stops her from running away again.

Shadow Weaver's little speech here is great, she's been told that the First One's made the magic stronger when they did the exact opposite. It's a commentary on colonialism, "we brought you civilization, our conquest was good actually" is a very common lie.

Catra holding Adora's hand, Glitra kiss, Best Friend Squad hug, Catra's smirk when Adora says she's right. You love to see it.

I love how Noelle made a self-insert character and also decided she should be evil. "So the only person I'm fighting here is... My own wife" is a mega ouch.

I love Wrong Hordak so much, he not only shows how the Horde Clones are just regular people without the influence of Prime but he is also ridiculously cute.

Did I mention how much I love the new She-Ra look? I liked the old one but damn this blows it out of the park.

I will admit the Heart having a failsafe a d Mara having a rebellion of her own is a bit out of nowhere, but it was a nice reveal of the origin of Grayskull.

I'm a huge sucker for friendship saving the day messages I admit. Not the rainbow lazer kind, but that love and kindness reaching through Prime's control is beautiful. Plus it's wonderful for Catra to see what real friendship is like.

This is a great little moment with Castaspella and Glimmer, this is the first time they've seen Micah since his death.

I love Shadow Weaver so much, she sees Adora and immediately shifts into child manipulation mode. This is the first time I'm actually getting pissed at her though, obviously because she's starting to drive her chisel between Catradora but also because she's reversing all the development Adora has had up until this point.

Hordak: "Go, then maybe these memories and imperfections will leave me " Entrapta: "Remember, your imperfections are beautiful!" The fuck I'm crying in the club again.

I love this Catradora moment, "what do you want Adora" "I have to do this". Obviously their relationship isn't going to be easy after all these years, and both these girl's flaws and insecurities are flaring up again and driving each other apart.

Adora tells off Shadow Weaver for good, she ruins people. This is a huge moment for this character, SW has convinced herself she is the good guy and that she is making the necessary actions to save the world, but this is the one moment she really looks back at herself.

"Adora chose Shadow Weaver, not me. Adora doesn't want me, not like I want her" oof ouch my soul. That with Adora's memories, it's clear they can't just go back to the way it was anymore. They're love is too important to them now.

My headcanon is that Shadow Weaver is drunk here. She's slurring, she's drinking, her daughter is going to sacrifice herself. Maybe her decision to die was one she made totally wasted lol.

Catra promised Adora she'd look out for her, and the soft version of the promise song in the background. Ow ow ow ow my heart.

Glimbow canon!

Mara is here, telling Adora the same thing Razz told her in the 3rd episode of the entire show. Stop looking for what other people tell you to do, you have a choice.

Spinnetossa, Seamista, Entrapdak. It's cliche, but love conquers all is a message I'll never tire from.

I started tearing up with the Glimmer Micah fight, and full on sobbing when Angella appeared. Something that didn't really stop.

I was mixed on SW's sacrifice, but I think it works. Each of them were trying to take the selfish way out, to die for the ones they love. So it's fitting that SW is the one that does it.

Fuck yeah Hordak! What a monumentous but short lived moment.

CATRADORA!!! God, the confession, how Catra whispers it but how Adora hears it as a scream, how it wasn't Catra that made Adora weak but infact the exact opposite, how they're both so surprised and relieved that these feelings they've felt for years are real and strong and true and reciprocated. It's the best conclusion possible for them and it makes me cry so much.

This beautiful moment, where Adora saves Hordak, the ultimate repayal for him saving her all those years ago. He remembers her. Fuck I'm sobbing again.

Scorpia sees Catra again after leaving her, and of course she hugs her.

And it's over. The best show ever made. Netflix automatically resets your watch history and here I am looking at the button to play Season 1 Episode 1 again. This 1 and a half year journey feels like a millenia, it feels so long ago that Adora first picked up that sword. This is a show I will cherish forever, I can see myself binge watching in the retirement home already.

[justallamaimaginingthings]

Jaime Lannister x Reader [I won’t lose you too]

Requests: “ Helloo have you watched the latest episode of got yet? If so could you please write something for jaime x starkreader along the lines of the episode, I mean like the stuff that happens to brienne and jaime but just with the reader and jaime?? I'm so emotional rn thanks hun” by Anonymous

“ Legit still reeling from last nights episode... But more importantly Im a hoe to Jaime Lannister (lol) and was wondering if you could write an imagine based off of #94 from the prompt list ???” by Anonymous

Prompt: 94: "I won’tlose you too"

Words: 1500

A/n: Honestly the only thing I have to say about GoT right now is what the fuck? I can’t believe they messed up almost every character like this. G R R Martin once said GoT was about redemption among other things. WHERE”S THE BLOODY REDEMPTION D&D????

Before the battle of Winterfell you had been almost certain you wouldn't make it out of this mess alive and upon actually seeing the army of the dead for the first time no doubts had been left. And yet, as if by some miracle you survived alongside Jaime. The moment the dead disintegrated into dust the only thing you had strength to do was run to the Lannister and pull him in a bone crushing hug.

Jaime swore that never in his life had he felt happier than the moment when he realized you were alive. If he wanted to be honest, he'd admit that he didn't think he would survive Winterfell nor did he think he deserved to. However, when he felt tears of relief run down your cheeks as you sobbed in his arms, he couldn't help but be thankful he made it.

"It's over. You're okay, we're okay" he reassured you while gently removing the tears from your cheeks, turning your head up to meet your eyes "Hey, look at me. We made it" he repeated and it took all the man in him not to let his own tears fall.

"We did" you agreed finally allowing yourself to feel safe, closing your eyes and leaning back into his arms while his grip on your waist tightened in a protective manner. The war was over and Jaime was alive and for now that was all you needed.

The following days were more than hectic. Everyone was just happy to be alive and many celebrations took place, but still you knew the actual war hadn't even begun yet. Things between you and Jaime were almost like they always had. That almost including long pauses during your talks where you'd just stare at each other. The emotional tension of those moments could be cut with a knife but neither of you were ready to admit it, and things got even more intense at night. You hadn't realized the trauma the War of the Dead had left on you until you were woken up by Jaime in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat.

"Jaime?" you asked hesitantly wincing at how hoarse your voice sounded

"I could hear you screaming from my room" he replied simply making a wave of realization wash over you "I thought it'd be best to wake you up" he added slowly getting up from the bed when your hand wrapped around his wrist while your eyes locked into his in a silent plea. Not needing words, Jaime lied down next to you on the bed. The both of you were too tired to say anything else. Instead, you snuggled closer to him and the both of you fell asleep like this. As days went by, the same thing happened every night. You'd wake up screaming and always Jaime would be there to make everything go away with his loving touch and reassuring presence. Mornings became the best part of your day, as you'd find yourself nestled up in his arms, Jaime's sleeping face being the first thing you'd see waking up.

That night was no different. However, instead of waking up by the northern sun hitting your face, you woke up to the sound of the door closing. Snapping your eyes open you managed to get a glimpse of Jaime leaving your room. Instantly, you jumped out of bed and followed him.

A few minutes later, Jaime had found himself staring at your sleeping form as he tried to put his thoughts into order. If there was one thing he was sure of was the fact that he loved you. He had for a long time, he realized, but never actually found the guts to admit it. However, even if you did love him back, he knew he was not worth of your love. Since the moment he met you, you had been kind and caring towards everyone. You had a heart of gold and you never hesitated to defend the innocent, while he… Jaime had been everything but honorable and his past deeds were enough to confirm that. Not only had he ignored every chance life gave him to become a better man but he had also murdered and hurt innocent without the slightest hint of remorse. All of that for Cersei. Sure, since the moment he met you, Jaime had tried to change, but nothing he could do would be able to outlive his past. There was no hope left for him… With that thought, he quietly gathered his things and closed the door behind him, hoping that one day, maybe long after he was gone, you'd be able to forgive him. The sound of footsteps behind him made him halt his actions and turn to you.

"King's Landing is going to burn. You know that" you stated trying to stay collected no matter how much the thought of him leaving hurt you.

"It doesn't matter" he dismissed you turning back to saddling his horse.

"Jaime, please" you begged grabbing his arm to make him look at you. What was left of your heart shattered when you saw the broken and empty look on his eyes.

"You think I'm a good man. I pushed a boy out of a tower window and crippled him for life. For Cersei. I strangled my cousin with my own hands. For Cersei. I would have murdered every man, woman and child in Riverrun for Cersei. She's hateful. And so am I" he said making your eyes fill with tears and your heart break for him. He looked like he had made his choice, but so had you.

"Maybe you have been, but you're a changed man now" you began and framed his face in your trembling hands to encourage him to listen to you "Since then, I've seen you risk everything to defend innocents and to defend me. You are a good man, Jaime Lannister. I do now think that, I know it. You will never be like her."

"One good action is not enough to redeem a life of mistakes" he insisted gently cupping your hand in his prompting you to let go of him, which you refused.

"Jaime, I'm begging you. The only thing that awaits you there is death and distraction. If you stay here, you can have a new life, we could have a new life together. Please, I won’t lose you too" by that point you had given up trying to hold back your tears as you allowed yourself to completely crumble in from of Jaime. Laying a soft kiss on your palm he looked into your eyes letting a sad smile make its way to his lips.

"I can't be saved, Y/n. I'm too far gone, please forgive me" No matter how promising the prospect of starting a different life with you by his side sounded, he was certain he did not deserve it.

"Everyone can be saved. Don't do this, I… I love you. Let me help you" your words seemed to hit a nerve as you could swear you saw a glimmer of hope shine in his eyes even for just a moment.

"You deserve better" he argued but his tone was not as decisive as it had been before. Praying to any god out there that this would work, you made one last attempt to save him from himself.

"I don't want better, I want you. I need you here with me" you insisted and thankfully those words actually made a difference. Jaime knew he could never escape his past and the things he'd done or be good enough for you, but seeing the loving and yet desperate look on your eyes made him think that maybe there was a chance of learning to live with them.

Finding himself unable to speak, he grabbed your waist and crashed his lips at yours lighting a spark deep inside you. The taste of salty tears was evident in the kiss but neither of you cared. His grip on your nightshirt was harsh and gentle at the same time as he melted into your touch. Feeling his hands shaking, you deepened the kiss even more trying to put all your feelings in it.

"I love you" he whispered after the kiss was broken, voice thick with emotion as the tears finally fell from his eyes. That was all you needed to hear to realize you had actually got to him. Being more thankful than ever before in your life you hugged him tightly, relishing the knowledge than the worst had been avoided.

You knew Jaime's past had left its scars on him, and it would take a long time to heal, but there was nothing you wanted more than to be there for him through it. Even though Jaime felt he would never be enough for you, he swore he would try his best to be a better man. Sure, there was no escaping for his haunting past, but for the first time ever he believed that maybe there was actually a chance for him to be happy and that chance was by your side.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

a VERY personal comment / introspection on why spop is a great show and I’m never going to watch beyond season 1. Spoilers, it has to do with Catra 

Trigger warnings for quick mentions of emotional and physical abuse, and the general fuckery that is peeking into the mind and motivations of someone who was themselves a fuck

my reason for quitting spop is really simple and biased 

i see the worst parts of myself in catra. and i also see no sign of remorse or even self doubt from her or scorpia, the girl who keeps trying to ‘help’ and ‘support’ her

season 1 ep 8. a eleven-year-old CHILD gives you the benefit of the doubt, upholds the rules and lets you stay at the prom despite other people warning her you’re up to no good, and neither of you have even the slightest, tiniest, faintest moment of hesitation before betraying that trust and bombing her home?? oh yes. very redeeming qualities

that was, nauseating. and the glimpses i saw of season 2 upped it to unbearable, because i remember how it felt being an self-interested asshole. it felt great. freeing. powerful. made me untouchable

i know why catra’s like this

it was my alleged dad instead of an alleged mother-figure who was the one in my life. he was good at the guilt trip. good at being entitled to things. good at accidentally putting me in so much danger that six year old me spent every trip and visit with him coming up with plans for what to do if/when things went wrong

how could i survive it? what would my best chance be? was the last time i saw my mom really going to be the last time..?

i used to stand behind him as he worked with his stupid power tools and daydream about pushing him into his own circular saw. one push. with all the strength in my tiny body. everyone would think it’d been an accident

never did that though. i was scared. even though i was never the one he screamed at or beat up, i still’d seen him do it. to his dogs. to his current girlfriend. because whenever things went wrong it was never HIS fault, never because HE’D made a mistake. of course not

growing up with that... you adapt to survive, just like catra did. sometimes you learn from the people who threaten you, just like she did

sometimes you start to turn into them, just like i did 

because it felt great. freeing. powerful. it made stick-armed and pint sized little girl me feel untouchable 

i know why Catra is like this

but being an asshole makes you an asshole. you’re not useful to anyone, you’re a blight on the world, a literal waste of oxygen. all you do is hurt others and push them towards becoming more like you. and if you succeeded in that then everything would go to hell- with the most kind and compassionate people being the first to get screwed over as they try to stop/help you/protect others from you

it took years for me to decide i didn’t want to scare the people i love. years, and not having anyone sugarcoat how my actions ruined stuff 

now, thanks to a really bad but effective bout of suppressing all emotion to get a handle on my temper, now i have depression. i spend 90% of my life shut up in one room. but, i’m not useless anymore. im not hurting people

i’m getting better at admitting when i was wrong and owning up to it. i’m very careful not to push blame on others. i’m figuring out how to just let things be, let other people live their lives, and im learning the difference between “i don’t like X so i must destroy it” and “X is harming people, something has to be done”

patience. a thing i have now. i can trust myself to babysit my sister’s kids and take care of a needy cat and a dog who has exactly 1 brain cell

slow, slow going, and yet it’s going all the same 

the asshole part is still here. it’s just not who i choose to actively BE

and the people i love today are the ones who hated that side of me and showed it, not the ones who let it slide..... i guess that’s why i love Glimmer so much, too

Glimmer didn’t take shit from Adora when they first met. she called her out on everything she could, and also called herself out later, for trying to ignore the good that was in Adora

i want to be like her, and Adora, and Bow  

i never ever want to go back to being like Catra. I still might have been like Catra if i’d had someone like Scorpia around, giving me excuses, insulating me from what i was doing

she means well but until Scorpia gets some self-respect and self worth and leaves Catra, neither of them are ever going to really be happy. being abused even more and betrayed by people you never trusted and sent to beast island isn’t a redemption arc. looking at yourself through other peoples’ eyes and deciding you don’t like what you see? THAT’S a start. that’s the beginning of courage and hope 

being an asshole makes you feel free and powerful and untouchable

but it also leaves you scared. constantly. because you know what you are capable of, and you paint the same poison over everyone you see. you can never trust anyone else. you can never open up. you can never really be safe 

when you figure out how to care about other people again, then you start to see real reasons why they should care about you. you start believing it when they say they do. when you look at who you really are today, you give yourself the chance to chose who you want to be tomorrow

and it doesn’t always feel like it, but I think that’s real freedom and real power 

i don’t know where i was going with this.... kudos to the show for writing very real characters, i guess? please give them happy endings. i won’t see it but the world needs more stuff like that 

[restlessreveries]

Honestly why I even picked up the Legend of Drizz’t books again I’ll never understand.

My last trek into this series ended with “Starless Nights” because the trend of promising drow characters being killed effortlessly got so annoying. And especially because of Dinin’s fate. A character I’d have loved to see elaborated on a bit, maybe if he’d gone to the surface alongside Jarlaxle at some point which I guess will be what the mercenary ends up doing?

‘Cause what I wanna see is drow having to deal with the surface, learning more about their options and the realizations and conflcts along the way.

But hey, we need to tie that cardboard tasting Entreri to Jarlaxle, so let’s just offhand kill this kinda interesting drow so Entreri can be his right-hand man instead.

But I crave more knowledge about my favorite race so two years after the rage quit we continue with Siege of Darkness that introduces this kinda cool a bit different weaponsmaster who is built up to be amazingly strong.

Still kinda one-sided though, so his death wasn’t unexpected. But the lame way it was done was such an anticlimax. Just near effortlessly killed by a joke character? For fuck’s sake Salvatore, why can’t you do this well? You build the drow up to be so dangerous, but the moment they’re faced by even the smallest goodly character they might as well be made of paper.

So I kind of end up hoping for this other drow character who’s been in the series for a long time and who is actually alive at the end of the book. But knowing what’s likely to come, I decide to look this up because I’m seriously doubting if I should hold even the slightest glimmer of hope for this series.

Nope. Dies later on. By the cardboard-tasting human no less.

Why is every drow not named Drizz’t so fucking expendable? Salvatore’s got a race of potentially interesting individuals who could have all sorts of depth if they were given a chance by the writer. But no, Drizz’t is the only one who can have more than one dimension. Well, him and Jarlaxle I guess but his connection to Entreri is eating away what interest I have in him too.

And the worst part is there’s nothing else to turn to. No books about less than saintly Drizz’t, about drow that aren’t just born goodly, no redemption, no growth, no shades of anything between white and black as far as the drow are concerned.

I really wish I could find a book or two about Eilistraeeans and/or Vhaeraunites, at least then I’d get different flavors of drow.

... sorry about the rant, but this has been burning in my system for a long time.