#so anyway i’ve foreseen the future

[carebooks]

thinking about how Max got his full powers when he was around 12 in the first season of WOWP and wizards can still be late bloomers around age 13,

and since Billie is already 12 and so is Roman… there is still a chance that at the season finale of s1, we discover that Roman does in fact have wizard powers.

this leads to eventually figuring out Milo might have inherited magic too and when he comes of age he’ll have his full powers. this leads to the Russo family finally getting into the real villain of the WOWP Universe: the Family Wizard Competition. so the Russo’s + Billie (bc Justin and Giada legit adopted her) fighting to disband this entire competition.

ironically, in another twist, Alex tells Justin that this whole thing could have happened twenty years ago had they helped Stevie end the competition cycle for good.

Justin: Didn’t Max kill your ex-girlfriend by knocking her over as a statue?

Alex: Yeah, we don’t like to talk about that.

[middleearthpixie]

Living Proof ~ Chapter Fourteen

Summary: When he puts himself between the Uruk-hai and Merry and Pippin, Boromir knows it means sacrificing himself. But it also means redemption for his near betrayal of Frodo and the Fellowship, and so it is a price he is more than willing to pay.

Kaia has been on her own for as long as she can remember, having escaped a terrible life in a village not far from Mordor. When she hears the sounds of battle, she knows what it means and when she ventured forth and finds a gravely wounded man lying amongst the leaves and debris, she takes him in, not knowing he is actually the son of the steward of Gondor.

Angry at himself and faced with a long road to recovery, Boromir does not make things easy on Kaia and it is only through her own sheer will that she does not give into the urge to hit him over the head with something on a daily basis. That refusal to give up brings about changes neither one of them could have foreseen.  She just wanted to save him. She never thought he would save her in return…

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Kaia 

Warnings: Some battle violence (nothing graphic, I promise)

Rating: T 

Word Count: 4.5k

Tag List: @sotwk @heilith @fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @emmyspov @finnofamerica @lathalea @ass-deep-in-demons @quiall321 @mistofstars @justfollowtheroad @guardianofrivendell @glassgulls @doctorwhump @kmc1989 @estethell @emrfangirl @emmanuellececchi

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Kaia sank onto the edge of a broken stone at the top of the parapet and sighed softly as Madril asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, looking up at him. It was a lie, of course. The moment she heard Boromir’s name, and then his voice, her stomach had been a mess of jumbles and knots. And when she met his gaze… her heart beat so fast and with such force, she thought for a moment she might faint. 

But then those gray-blue eyes narrowed and his gaze pierced right through her. The anger practically radiated from him and while she couldn't fault him at all, it did surprise her that he was so angry. She’d always thought that men easily separated emotion from the physical and that he would be just as glad to not have her clinging to him, begging for a future with him. But then again, her experience with men was on the limited side, and none she’d ever known were anything like Boromir. Not by half.

She hadn’t expected him to speak to her. In fact, she thought he might just shove past her and go on his way. And now that he had spoken, she almost wished he hadn’t. Almost.

She stared toward the doorway where she’d last seen him. Part of her hoped the halflings had too far a head start on him, that he’d give up and return to Osgiliath. But that was only simply so she didn't worry about him, about something terrible befalling him. 

“If you don’t mind my saying, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Well, not exactly, anyway.”

“Did you know the halflings?”

“Know them? No. Know of them? Yes.” She turned completely toward him. “I know Boromir knows them, but not how or why. I’ve heard him speak of them, but he never went into detail.”

“Hmm…” Madril’s eyes narrowed slightly and she waited for him to ask her about how she knew Boromir. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he gazed out over the growing darkness, which seemed far heavier and much darker than normal. Something in the distance must’ve caught his attention, for he said, “Excuse me,” and hurried off in the opposite direction. 

Curious, she followed, coming up as Faramir joined him on the far parapet and Madril said, “It’s been very quiet across the river. The orcs are lying low. The garrison may have moved out. We’ve send scouts to Cair Andros and if the orcs attack from the north, we will have some warning.”

Orcs. Although she knew the chance of facing them grew far greater with each passing day, it didn't mean the thought did not scare her at all. She watched as Faramir’s men moved about, seemingly at random purpose, but she knew well enough they were moving into position for either watch or battle, and she strongly suspected the latter.

She was not wrong.

The first arrow took her by surprise. It swished over her head, striking one of Faramir’s men dead center in the chest, piercing his armor as if it was no thicker than a sheet of paper. He fell, clanking down the stone steps as he rolled out of sight.

“They’re not coming from the north,” Faramir said, “To the river! Quick! Go!”

Despite the roiling in her belly, despite the icy terror rushing through her veins, she followed the others to Osgiliath’s lowest level, where the river had begun to swamp it, greenish-black water swirling about the crumbling stone. Black dots danced before her eyes as she flattened herself into an alcove, just as she had done earlier, when the Nazgûl swooped overhead. 

A boat silently eased up to the stone and dropped its ramp, and orcs poured from it, splashing and sloshing their way through the fortress. Madril and Faramir were the first to leap out and attack and her hands wrapped tightly about her sword’s grips, Kaia did the same. 

Bedlam ensued. Steel met steel with deafening clangs. Men and orcs screamed as one ran the other through. Heads were removed from bodies. Arms and legs fell into the water with sickening splashes. Torsos were sliced in half, some cleanly, some not so cleanly. Orc blood, thick and black, mingled with the scarlet blood of Men as it spattered against the stone and spilled across the blocks beneath their feet. 

Kaia could barely see for the gray and gloom of night, but that didn't stop her. Her head pounded from the sounds, from the force of her blood pumping through her temples. Her arms ached from the relentless swinging, from the force of her steel striking unyielding targets, from the force required to block the blows that came her way. She moved through the gloom, ignoring the rancid black ooze of orc blood spattering across her face, pressing forward. She lost sight of Madril. Lost sight of Faramir. Could see nothing but the relentless push of orcs as more and more spilled into Osgiliath.

A hot sting swept across her right shoulder. She ignored it as she swung back with everything she had to sever the arm holding the blade that cut her. But then another blade caught her to knock her sword from her grasp and she found herself eye to eye with the creature responsible.

“Well, look here at what I found,” he sneered, lifting his blade to poke it into the hollow of her throat. 

Tears of pain stung her eyes, but she fought to keep them from falling. Her sword lay just along her left foot, but if she moved, the blade at her throat would pierce her before she got halfway to her own steel. 

Metal sliced the air and the orc’s head went flying off to his left, while his body crumpled in a heap where he’d stood. Sticky black ooze clouded her right eye, but Faramir’s voice was clear as he shouted, “Fall back! Fall back to Minas Tirith!” as he continued past her.

She snatched up her blade, dragging the back of her right hand across her face to clear her vision. A hint of panic stung her as she had no idea where Minas Tirith was in relation to where she was, but she broke into a run behind the others as they all scattered. 

Splashing through the flooded portion of Osgiliath, Kaia lost her footing more than once, but managed to remain upright as she followed the others. Her heart hammered her ribs with enough force that black dots danced before her eyes as she fought to ignore it, to ignore the burn in her lungs and in her legs. Running was never her strong suit, but her life had never depended on it nearly as much, aside from that day in the clearing, when she dragged a nearly-lifeless Boromir back from certain death. 

Dawn was breaking as they spilled forth from Osgiliath and Kaia was fairly certain her feet touched no ground as she ran across the fields. Her heart threatened to explode, her lungs threatened to seize up, and at the shriek of the Nazgûl screeched louder, she knew she stood no chance. Her legs surrendered first. She stumbled. Reeled forward. Went skidding across the ground, unable to hold back her cry of pain as her wounded shoulder took most of the brunt of her fall. Her sleeve was torn almost completely off and blood soaked the fabric as it gushed from the ugly slash. Her hand felt cold, her sword jarred free from her grasp once more, only now she couldn’t make her hand obey her and grip it once more. 

A shadow fell over her. Thunder of hoofbeats roared above her. She closed her eyes and braced herself to be trampled beneath those hooves.

The sounds of battle reached Boromir’s ears as he made his way back toward Osgiliath and as he emerged from the tunnel, and saw the empty boats, his gut twisted sharply and he slid his sword free. He didn't stop pushing forward, and unlike the last time he faced an army of orcs, he didn’t feel the sting of the arrow. All Boromir could think about was getting to Kaia. Faramir’s men were as good as his own had been, but they were still horribly outnumbered, and he knew she was there somewhere.

Then Faramir bellowed for them to fall back and without hesitation, Boromir made for the stables and he didn't care whose horse he took as he swung up onto the first saddled mount he saw. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and took off out into the coming dawn. 

The shriek of the Nazgûl made his hair stand on end and he urged his horse to run faster as the fell beast swooped down toward the Pelennor Fields, where ahead of him, the rest of Faramir’s men thundered toward Minas Tirith. He slowed down some as he caught sight of an inert figure lying face down not fifty yards ahead of him and his stomach clenched as he tugged hard on the reins and his mount slowed, then stopped. 

“Kaia!” He leaped down from the animal’a back and dropped to his knees at her side. She didn't stir. 

He wasted no time in gathering her in his arms to spirit her back to his horse, where he managed to maneuver her up into the saddle in front of him, an arm firmly about her waist as he dug his heels into the horse’s sides and they moved once more.

Dirt spattered her face, clumps of it mingled with blood dotted her glorious hair, now matted with sweat and earth. The sleeve of her tunic was shredded, her right shoulder smeared with blood, both fresh and dried, and an ugly wound along her upper arm continued to bleed freely.  

Without thinking, he cradled her closer, muttering, “We’re almost there, just a bit further. Just… hold on, love…”

A brilliant white light split the Nazgûl in two and sent them all in opposite directions, leaving a clear path all the way back to Minas Tirith and as they crossed into the White City and Boromir saw Gandalf, he couldn't believe his eyes at all. 

Kaia stirred then, lifting her head as she let out a low groan. “Who—where—how?”

“Shhh…” He tightened his arm about her. “You’re safe now.”

“Boromir?” She craned her neck to peer up at him with confused eyes. “But… how…?”

“We will talk later,” he told her softly, guiding his mount along the cobbled main road that wound up along the city’s tiers. The Houses of Healing were on the sixth level and that was where he was going. Everything else would wait for now. Faramir. His father. It would all wait.

Kaia let out a cry as he slipped from the horse and jostled her when he moved to ease her down as well. “Forgive me,” he murmured, cradling her against his chest. 

He carried her up the stairs into the Houses of Healing, where Ioreth, Minas Tirith’s healer, looked up. “Boromir? You—you’re here?”

“I am but please, any and all questions will wait for now.” 

“Yes, of course,” she gestured for him to bring Kaia over to the bed nearest the bank of windows. “Is this your squire?”

“Squire? No. She is no boy but a woman, Ioreth. Kaia.” He bent to set Kaia down on the bed. “And I owe my life to her.”

Ioreth offered up a quirked eyebrow, but all she said was, “I will tend to her. You should go and see Denethor. He’s been… not himself, these last few weeks.”

He sighed softly, drawing the back of his wrist across his forehead. “Just… just take care of her. I have to go find Faramir. When she wakes, tell her…”

“Tell her what, my lord?”

He shook his head. “Never mind. Just take care of her.”

“My lord?”

He let out a low sigh. “Just tell her I will be back.”

With that, he turned and strode back toward the doorway and without a look back, left the House of Healing. As he stepped out into the golden sunlight, he saw Faramir and with great haste, hurried to catch up with him. 

“Faramir!”

Faramir stopped and, shading his eyes with one hand, looked up. “Where did you come from?”

“Never mind that,” Boromir waved off the question as he joined them. “I thought I’d go with you to see Father, lest he not believe I actually walk amongst the living.”

“Where is Kaia? Have you seen her?”

He nodded. “She is in with Ioreth now. I imagine the infirmary will be overrun with wounded shortly.”

“She was wounded? What happened?”

“I know not. I happened upon her just over the border of the Pelennor Fields.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“No. Now, come. We’ve no time to waste on idea chatter.”

He started toward the Citadel, where he knew he’d find his father, in his chair at the foot of the black staircase that led up to the throne of the king of Gondor.

But, Faramir was nothing if not determined and as he fell into step alongside him, he said, “What happened to her?”

“I told you, I haven’t a clue. I found her lying in the field and brought her in.”

“So, wait… you simply dumped her in the infirmary?”

“Mind your own matters, little brother,” Boromir growled without looking at him. 

“Have you lost your mind?”

“This is not the time.”

“Not the—“ Faramir fell into step alongside him. “Are you a complete idiot? What could she have possibly done to make you this angry?”

Boromir was in no mood to discuss his love life or hear Faramir’s take on it, either. His stomach clenched with a worry he tried to pretend was nothing more than exhaustion as they continued on their way. “Again, mind your own matters.” 

“Mind my own—oh, fine. If that’s what you wish, far be it from me to be your blasted conscience.”

“Good. I need no conscience. I assure you, I’ve done nothing to her that shames me.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

Now, Boromir glared at him, but Faramir simply rolled his eyes in response and hurried up the stone staircase ahead of him. 

At the top of the stone steps, they reached the courtyard and in the center of it, the Tree of Gondor, which would have been white, had it not been dead. Boromir paid neither it nor his brother and mind as he bobbed his head at the pages who silently tugged open the doors leading into Tower Hall. 

Denethor II, the Steward of Gondor, sat in his chair, scowling as always, but when he looked up, his eyes lit up as he said, “My son! I worried a terrible fate had befallen you.”

“No.” Boromir shook his head as he drew to a halt before his father. “As you can see, I am alive and in one piece.”

“But we thought…” Denethor cleared his throat and turned away for a moment. When he turned back, he brandished the halved remains of the Great Horn. “This was brought back by one of your brother’s men and I was certain it meant you were lost.”

Boromir stared at the ivory and gold pieces and slowly shook his head. “No. I was wounded, but as you can see, I still walk amongst the living.”

“It is a gift, that you are here and my greatest fear did not come to pass.” He said this with a rare smile and a warm gaze adding, “And have you—”

He paused, his cold gray eyes sliding toward Faramir, who drew up alongside Boromir. “Have you done as you were tasked?”

Boromir swallowed hard. He knew he would disappoint his father, knew Denethor would be furious and would most likely disown him when he admitted that he’d failed. But, he squared his shoulders and shook his head. “I’ve not, no.”

Denethor’s cold eyes grew colder still, looking like two slivers of iced slate. His jaw tightened. “Is that so?”

“It is. I tried. But—”

“You tried? What does that mean—you tried. You failed!”

“I did, yes. And as a result—”

“As a result, you left the Ring in the possession of a halfwit who will keep it for himself!”

“No,” Faramir broke in softly. “I do not think he will, Father.”

“Oh, you do not think he will, do you?” Those iced slate eyes slid toward Faramir. “Then you are as halfwitted as they are, for of course he will. He’d be a fool not to.”

“Father,” Boromir interrupted sharply, “I did try to take it and that halfwit outsmarted me, and when he did, I realized I was wrong. So very wrong, indeed. I was wrong to try tot take it for myself, for Gondor, and not to allow the one chosen to bear it to destroy it. And if that makes me a halfwit, then so be it. I am at peace with the fact that I failed.”

Denethor’s gaze grew colder still, colder than Boromir had ever seen. “You disappoint me, as I thought you the braver of my sons. And yet you defy me. Defy my instructions. You have proved yourself as useless and unworthy as your brother!”

“So be it.” Boromir shrugged as if his father’s words meant nothing to him, ignoring the sharp sting those words sent through him. Denethor’s disappointment was not something to which he was accustomed. Normally, Faramir bore the brunt of their father’s wrath, while Boromir tried to shield him at all turns. 

But not this time. 

“Father, to take the Ring, to bring it here, would bring about our ruin faster. This is how it must be done. And this is how it will be done.”

“Take yourself from my sight,” Denethor growled. “And take your brother with you. My sons, my heirs, and you are nothing but disappointments, both of you.”

“You will return to Osgiliath. Take it back. Then, and only then, will I even consider you my sons again.”

“Father, Osgiliath was overrun—” Faramir began.

“Take it back.” Denethor looked from him to Boromir and back. “And do not return until you do, either of you.”

Boromir stared at his father for a long moment, as if he’d never seen him before. Although he knew firsthand the pull the Ring had and would have over any Man who thought to try to possess it, he knew Denethor had no such awareness. All he cared about was what Boromir himself had cared about when he’d attacked Frodo in the clearing at Amon Hen. Power. Denethor wanted to secure his place, wanted to make certain his position never wavered, that he never had reason to fear the rightful king coming to usurp him.

He should only know that Gondor’s true leader was somewhere between Minas Tirith and Mordor, and if Aragorn should survive and return to claim his rightful place, Boromir would not hesitate to bow and acknowledge him as the King of Gondor.

“Did you hear me?”

“I did and if that’s what you wish, ” Boromir shrugged, “so be it.”

“Then we understand each other.”

“Aye, I understand.” With that, Boromir turned and stalked from Tower Hall without looking back. 

Outside, Faramir caught up to him. “You should go and see her before you go.”

“I’ll not tell you again, little brother,” Boromir growled without looking at him, “stay out of my affairs.”

“And if you do not return?”

He paused then, at the low wall at the far end of the courtyard, where he could see Osgiliath and the River Anduin. Gazing out at the sparkling water, he drew in a deep breath and let it out as a low, steady exhale. “Why does it trouble you so much?”

“Because, I think you should talk to her, that’s why.”

Overhead, clouds thickened, iron gray and heavy with the promise of rain. In the distance, the faint orange glow of the ever-watchful Eye of Sauron gleamed. A heaviness settled over Minas Tirith, one that he’d felt long before he was tasked with going to Rivendell, but had grown heavier since then. If Osgiliath remained in orc hands, it was but a matter of time before they made the march to Minas Tirith. 

“If I need advice on how to handle my life, little brother, I promise you, you will be the first one I come to. Until then, mind your own matters.”

He turned to stride toward the stairs, to return to his flat and prepare to depart Minas Tirith once more, only to have Faramir halt his stride as he called, “What did she do that was so terrible?”

Without slowing, Boromir called back, “It is none of your—”

“Concern, I know. But I saw how she looked at you and how you looked at her. Go and talk to her and tell her before it’s too late.”

“Tell her?” Now he stopped. Stopped and turned toward Faramir. “Tell her what?”

Faramir offered up a long look. “I think you know.”

“Do you? Because I assure you, I don’t.”

Rolling his eyes, Faramir snorted and replied, “Tell her you love her, you dolt. I think you’ll be surprised by her answer.”

“I don't love her,” he shook his head, “nor do I care what her answer is.”

“I saw how she looked at you.”

“And how was that? Surprised, little brother. She was surprised to see me.”

“Yes, that I saw. But, there was something else.”

“Your mind toyed with you and you saw not what you thought you did. And I’ll discuss it no more. Round up whoever you can and let them know to be ready. We leave first thing in the morning.”

“Boromir,” Faramir caught him by the arm, “go and talk to her before you leave. Just… trust me, won’t you? You will regret it if you don’t. Don't make a mistake that will haunt you for the rest of your days.”

Faramir didn't wait for his response, but hurried off to prepare for their departure, but Boromir stood there for a long while, staring out at the river, at Osgiliath. Part of him wanted to just return to his quarters and prepare to leave Minas Tirith once more, possibly for good.

But, the other part of him… 

Seeing Kaia lying so still on the battlefield had knocked the wind from him and all he could think about was getting to her. And once he had her, it took every bit of will he possessed to leave her in Ioreth’s care, even though he knew full well Kaia couldn't have been in safer hands. 

With a heavy sigh, he sank onto the edge of the low wall, hands clasped between his thighs, and he stared at the dead tree in the center of the courtyard. Faramir was right. He had to talk to Kaia before he left, if nothing else to clear the air between them. He wanted to know why she’d left the way she had. 

He sat there a while longer, but then, mindful of how much time had passed, slowly got to his feet and made his way down to the sixth level once more. It most likely would change nothing, but he did want to see Kaia before he left. 

Butterflies went wild as he neared the infirmary, making him feel very much as if he was but a boy about to see the girl he’d been admiring from afar for what seemed like forever. As he reached the doorway leading into the area where he’d left Kaia, he paused on the threshold. All of the anger that had simmered within him since he’d awoken to find her gone had vanished now. His pride had been bruised, but when he thought about it, he couldn't exactly fault her for leaving. After all, he’d made no bones about the fact that he fully intended to leave her. She just beat him to the punch. 

At the same time, though, she made him realize something. He did not like being away from her. In the short time he’d been under her care, in the time that he’d come to know her, he found being apart from her was far worse than even being wounded by the Uruk-hai had been. It wasn't anything he’d ever felt before and if he was completely honest with himself, he wasn't exactly certain what to do with those feelings. Especially knowing she wasn't one to tie herself down. And neither was he.

Or at least, he’d thought he wasn’t. 

“My lord?”

Ioreth’s soft voice broke through his reverie and he started, looking down into her lined faced. Her dark eyes bored through him, just as they had since he was a boy and she always seemed to know when he’d been up to no good. Shaking his head, he managed a slight smile. “I beg your pardon. Doing a bit of woolgathering, I suppose.”

Woolgathering.

Over Ioreth’s shoulder, he could see Kaia’s bed, could see Kaia, and she looked so terribly still that his gut kinked. “Ioreth, the girl I brought in earlier? How did she fare?”

“Miss Kaia? She fares well, actually.” Ioreth twisted to peer over her shoulder, then looked back at him. “I managed to halt the bleeding and I don't think she will lose the arm, although it will be some time before she has full use of it.”

Relief surged through him. “Good.” 

“She’s asked for you.”

His spine stiffened at that. “She did?”

“Yes.”

His mouth went dry as he peered over her shoulder once more. “Did she say anything else?”

“Go and talk to her.”

“Is she awake?”

“No, but she should be soon.” 

With that, Ioreth stepped out of his way, taking away his last barrier to reach Kaia. Swallowing hard against the hammering of his heart and the dots dancing before his eyes, Boromir moved around her, crossing over to Kaia’s bed. As he reached it, one of Ioreth’s helpers brought over a chair for him. 

“Thank you,” he said without thinking, not taking his eyes off Kaia. He’d never seen her so still, her dark red hair spilled beneath her, shining in the afternoon sun. Her fair skin looked paler still, even against the stark white bandage wrapped about her upper arm. 

“Might I fetch you anything, my lord?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m fine. But, I’d rather not be disturbed, unless my brother comes looking for me.”

“Of course.”

Boromir turned back to Kaia and he gently slipped his hand beneath hers, her palm warm against his. Her fingers tightened briefly about his. He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips to gently brush the backs of her fingers with a light kiss. 

Her lashes were thick black crescents against her pale cheeks, and while he hoped her eyelids would flutter and then open, they stay shut. Her chest rose and fell softly with each breath, and he sank into the chair, her hand still in his. He would remain by her side until she woke, and he was not leaving until he’d had a chance to speak with her.

Until he made things right with her. 

[starbind]

@fauxstars caelus said “I’ve known who you were this whole time. I never forgot you.” to kafka.

running into caelus wasn’t in the script. elio had foreseen the interaction, but it wasn’t important enough to change the trajectory of the future they’re aiming towards. kafka had the choice to see him or not and since it was a rare occurrence for him to be out alone she took the opportunity. she was going into this blind, elio not having told her how this whole encounter would go. caelus’ statement was one she wasn’t expecting, not now anyway.

despite her surprise, her easy going smile didn’t falter. “is that so? tell me what you remember exactly.” it was likely all he remembered was their interaction on the space station and the familiarity of her. for him to remember their past would be an unexpected turn. he was bound to remember everything eventually, that was inevitable, she didn’t think it would be this soon though. “if you truly remember then you hide it well in front of your new friends.” that was truly the unknown variable, how the astral express crew would react if they were to find out about caelus’ past.

[startruth]

“I’ve known who you were this whole time. I never forgot you.” caelus to kafka

running into caelus wasn’t in the script. elio had foreseen the interaction, but it wasn’t important enough to change the trajectory of the future they’re aiming towards. kafka had the choice to see him or not and since it was a rare occurrence for him to be out alone she took the opportunity. she was going into this blind, elio not having told her how this whole encounter would go. caelus’ statement was one she wasn’t expecting, not now anyway. 

despite her surprise, her easy going smile didn’t falter. “is that so? tell me what you remember exactly.” it was likely all he remembered was their interaction on the space station and the familiarity of her. for him to remember their past would be an unexpected turn. he was bound to remember everything eventually, that was inevitable, she didn’t think it would be this soon though. “if you truly remember then you hide it well in front of your new friends.” that was truly the unknown variable, how the astral express crew would react if they were to find out about caelus’ past.

[sparxymcfly]

AND SPEAKING OF HAVING WATCHED THE TRILOGY THREE DAYS IN A ROW which yeah, if you missed that I got extremely enabled by three separate friends who wanted to watch Back to the Future with me after I talked about it nonstop for so long :) AND I WILL BE SHOWING THEM THE REST OF THE TRILOGY it’s so good. I love my buddies. They’re great. BUT. But but BUT. The consecutive watches gave me some THOUGHTS. They’re not really big enough to be their own posts I don’t think, so this sort of setup of just a couple little things is, I think, the best way to go about it. And another read more since I’m quite chatty now that I’ve got my voice back, so enjoy if you’d like!

Sparx Thoughts!

First and foremost! Because this one made me GASP because I actually thought of a theory as to what the hell Doc could possibly be testing with his clock experiment by around the second or third watch! It’s not terribly glamorous a theory, but it did suddenly occur to me that watches are a sort of touchy thing anyway, and considering this is Doc of all people- who attempts to keep things as exact as possible and who is rather theatrical, especially in regards to such things as the way he was acting and- well, attempting to present in the video he had Marty shooting? I think the experiment was just to test whether Doc was capable of setting two clocks at the same time down to the exact nanosecond. I also kinda figure that if this is true, it was probably far from his first attempt at doing so and this was just the culmination. As for Marty being there? Well, considering Doc called his own house [which, where did he do that from? A payphone? The secret second lab? Not important, really, just a thought] and- despite the “thank god I found you”- seemed to know that this was a highly probable place for him to be, Doc having Marty report on the late clocks could potentially have been part of the plan. The way of getting the results, so to speak. I.. don’t really think Doc planned on it making Marty late of course, of course not- I think it was either a flaw in the plan he hadn’t foreseen, or Marty reporting on it actually wasn’t really part of the plan and he’d kind of just forgotten that this string of events risked occurring.

OH. And as for them being precisely 25 minutes slow- well, Doc’s got a thing for consistent usage of numbers and thematic type things like that. He wants to go 25 years into the future, so he decides the clock experiment will also be 25 minutes! Just for a bit of silly little lineups that would make him chuckle.

ITEM ONE: 50s Doc wears? Two watches? He has one on each wrist. It’s a little hard to see because of his long sleeves, but he DOES have two of them on right now. Which? He had only JUST gotten the idea for the time machine, so it isn’t even as if he had already begun his descent into clock obsessions. There is always the explanation that Doc has just always been into having lots of clocks and the like, but I’d always gathered that that came about because of the drive to complete the time machine. And yet! Here he is. Double prepared at all times! In case one explodes or stops working, perhaps.

This isn’t a thought at all I just think it’s really funny 50s Doc gets so into getting all of this working he just chucks his jacket right at Marty. And Marty catches it! Like he catches it and sets it down and he doesn’t say anything, like, he’s just used to rolling with whatever Doc’s up to at any given moment. WHICH. We learned this so long ago in the parking lot scene when Marty was willing to step back in front of a car just because Doc looked at him, but this bit still made me giggle enough I just had to toss it in here.

This one has actually been on my mind for awhile with very little grounding behind it nor any particular actual discussion point, but actually finally noticing a certain detail and then looking deeper into it made it into something with a little more meat to it to speak on. By which I mean, on my consecutive rewatches, I thought that I’d finally hit gold in this! See, I’d always wondered why on earth Marty knew the local homeless man by name. To the point where not only does Marty use him and his presence in Hill Valley square as a grounding point of reference upon return to 1985 in the first film, but he also reacts with no small amount of shock at seeing him in Hell Valley in the second one- especially being quite so extra ornery as he was. Does Marty talk to the guy? Is he just a person that all Hill Valley teenagers know by name? Or is it literally everyone in town? Is it like Doc’s situation where it’s someone that no one really seems to like, or that everyone looks down on, and that spurred Marty to at least be nice to the guy? Try to reach out to him?

And when I finally paid extra mind to the opening scene in 1955, I thought I at least connected some kind of dot in the fact that maybe everyone knew who Red was because he was previously the MAYOR of Hill Valley! After all, the mayor had been nicknamed “Red”, and the homeless man was also called Red. But upon looking into it, it turns out the Bobs themselves had refuted this? Both in that the men were played by different actors [which, the time-changed versions of everyone were played by the same people every time, something my faceblind ass struggled with SO badly but that’s a tale for another day], and that apparently Fox just. Made up Red’s name on the spot? Which. Which leaves us back at square one. Why does Marty know this guy by name and at least vaguely personally? Even if Red doesn’t precisely seem to be all that friendly in reciprocation, it’s still! Perplexing.

This one is much smaller! And also maybe earlier in the clocks one you thought “didn’t he go 30 years in the future though?” And like! Yeah! He did! He changed his mind which is so weird to me as just an odd little detail. In the opening parking lot scene, Doc tells Marty he is going to go 25 years into the future. And yet, come the end of the film, he’s changed tune to 30 years. He does follow up at the end with “it’s a nice round number” so it could��have been a spur of the moment shift in plans? But why not just do that to begin with? Or was this some sort of minor timeline change? Did their adventures just make Doc decide to go a little further out for some reason? It’s... really not an important pondering at all, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I noticed it simply because it’s so small and inane a change in detail.

That’s it <3 thanks for coming <3

[seachanqe]

slides into your inbox about backup archivist martin and martinelias

(LOTTIE, look at what you've done)

(the beginning is taken from MAG138 but the rest is me)

-----------

[TAPE STARTS ABRUPTLY]

ELIAS

Everything Peter has told you is true.

MARTIN

(huh, really?!) Oh…

ELIAS

For all his… many faults, Peter is legitimately trying to stop the end of the world as we know it.

MARTIN

So why haven’t you helped him?

ELIAS

My relationship to the apocalypse is more… complicated.

MARTIN

(overlapping sigh) Seriously?

[RATTLE RATTLE.]

ELIAS

Seriously. Anyway, I have helped him. I’ve given him control of the Institute, I’ve provided him with –

MARTIN

Me?

ELIAS

– any manpower he might require.

[MARTIN SCOFFS: YEAH, RIGHT.]

MARTIN

(increasingly heated) Yeah, but if – if he’s right about the Extinction, what it is, then why didn’t you say anything before; why am I only hearing it about it now; and why doesn’t Jon know?

ELIAS

I - oh. Oh. [AUDIBLE GRIN] Well, isn't this interesting.

[MARTIN SPUTTERS]

[AUDIBLE GRIN CONTINUES] How many statements have you read by now, Martin? Hm?

MARTIN

(baffled, unnerved) That - That hasn't happened before. I - Well, that - that I know of. I - Fuck off.

[RATTLE RATTLE.]

ELIAS

You took Jon's place over the six months he was... indisposed [MARTIN MAKES A NOISE OF OBJECTION WHICH ELIAS IGNORES] and before that too. When he was... investigating. It certainly all adds up, doesn't it?

MARTIN

[A BRIEF PAUSE, DEEP BREATH, COMPOSING HIMSELF]

Apparently so. [SUDDEN THOUGHT] (dry, cuttingly sarcastic) Who, I wonder, could have foreseen this?

ELIAS

(faux-scandalized) Martin, if you are implying I could have, perish the thought! It never crossed my mind. This was a delightful surprise.

[MARTIN SCOFFS]

Really, Martin, you know as well as I that I cannot see the future.

MARTIN

Right, and you had no intention of anything like this happening when you encouraged us, especially me, to keep reading statements when Jon was overseas.

ELIAS

Intention is a strong word, isn't it? Let's just say I always like to be prepared.

[MARTIN SIGHS, DEEPLY, BUT MUFFLED AS IF HIS HANDS ARE COVERING HIS FACE]

MARTIN

(tired) What does this mean then?

ELIAS

[LAUGHS TO HIMSELF] Nothing. Absolutely nothing... for now. You'll go back to Peter and help him run my Institute. Continue your work with him.

MARTIN

Great. Just great. I - [MARTIN EXHALES, GIVES A SARDONIC LAUGH] Nevermind.

ELIAS

[AUDIBLE SMILE AGAIN] You want to know what this means for you. I'm afraid I can't help you there. That's up to you and what the future may bring. But I trust you'll make the right choice. You've far exceeded my expectations thus far, Martin. [RATTLE RATTLE.] (pleased) I'm very proud of you.

MARTIN

[MARTIN SCOFFS] Right. Sure you are. Now, if you don't mind, I have a few more questions for you.

[TAPE CUTS OFF]

[sennsational]

announcement❕(kinda long)

uhm hi,

ngl, idk where to begin. after the anon fiasco from last time, ‘m feeling quite apprehensive and somewhat scared to be back here.

when i logged back into this acc i found four more asks from the same anon saying a lot of downright vulgar stuff. i also have my suspicion that the same anon has been harassing some of my moots and for that ‘m truly sorry. none of you deserve to deal with this shit and ‘m truly sorry that this anon kept acting like the most vile piece of trash to y’all.

i have since decided to turn off my anon asks and i won’t be turning them on anymore. maybe in the foreseen future, but for my own safety and mental health i think it’s better to turn it off.

anyway, i won’t be responding to any asks related to that anon, but to the sweetest moots i have who decided to reach out and make sure that i feel loved: i’ve read everything and i literally love you all so so so much! thank you for everything and i wish i could give all of you the biggest hug rn 🤍

this is not an announcement of me saying i’ll quit my blog, but i will be more on the down low. i hope to support the fics of my moots and reblog some stuff, but other than that i’ll be more so on a hiatus for the time being

anyway, if you do get hate anons: pls turn of the ability for them to send you asks and block/report the anons that are harassing you. also, pls know that you are loved and that these anons are the pitiful ones for hiding behind a grey icon. and if you don’t particular feel loved, i am here for you and i do love you. remember that🤍

[oswinpond]

Even after the new film, which certainly popularized Amy/Laurie in a way I’ve never seen before, I keep hearing a lot of the same old arguments: “Laurie never stopped loving Jo”, “Laurie didn’t really love Amy”, “Amy was a second choice/consolation prize”, “Jo should’ve been with Laurie” etc. And a lot of these people claim this is book canon. As I’ve just reread the book, I’ve got a lot of thoughts on all of this... 

(Note: This is all purely based on book canon.)

In the book, after Amy harshly scolds Laurie, he decides to go back to London and work for his grandfather to better himself. At first, he thinks he’s doing it for two reasons: Amy despises him and that hurts him, but also the idea that if he does something “splendid” Jo may love him (or at least respect him, as Amy put it). 

So Laurie decides to write a requiem for Jo “which should harrow up Jo’s soul and melt the heart of every hearer”. But he can’t come up with anything because he keeps humming the dance music reminiscent of the Christmas ball in Nice which he spent devoting himself to Amy all evening. So then he tries to compose an opera with Jo as his heroine, but it doesn’t work. “He wanted Jo for his heroine, and called upon his memory to supply him with tender recollections and romantic visions of his love. But memory turned traitor; and, as if possessed by the perverse spirit of the girl, would only recall Jo’s oddities, faults, and freaks, would only show her in the most unsentimental aspects.” 

Jo no longer fits as his heroine, no matter how hard he tries. So he gives up on that, and his imagination promptly comes up with another heroine for him without even trying: 

“This phantom wore many faces, but it always had golden hair, was enveloped in a diaphanous cloud, and floated airily before his mind’s eye in a pleasing chaos of roses, peacocks, white ponies, and blue ribbons. He did not give the complacent wraith any name, but he took her for his heroine and grew quite fond of her, as well he might, for he gifted her with every gift and grace under the sun, and escorted her, unscathed, through trials which would have annihilated any mortal woman.”

While Laurie doesn’t realize it, the woman he’s imagining is Amy. Amy with the blue ribbons in her golden hair, who put roses in his buttonhole, who he watched feed the peacocks in Paris, and who he first saw again in a carriage drawn by ponies. It’s also a little prophetic, as he does escort the real Amy through future trials. (Bonus: at the same time, Amy spends her time sketching some faceless man who clearly resembles Laurie, but she doesn’t realize it either.)

Contrary to what some in the fandom would claim, Laurie isn’t at all forcing himself to love Amy just so that he can be part of the March family. He doesn’t even realize that she’s become the “heroine” in his story, that she’s the woman he’s fantasizing about. He thinks he’s doing this to improve himself for Jo, but it’s Amy that’s inspiring him. 

And then Laurie realizes that his feelings for Jo are disappearing:

“Laurie thought that the task of forgetting his love for Jo would absorb all his powers for years, but to his great surprise he discovered it grew easier every day. He refused to believe it at first, got angry with himself, and couldn’t understand it [...] Laurie’s heart wouldn’t ache; the wound persisted in healing with a rapidity that astonished him, and instead of trying to forget, he found himself trying to remember. He had not foreseen this turn of affairs, and was not prepared for it. He was disgusted with himself, surprised at his own fickleness, and full of a queer mixture of disappointment and relief that he could recover from such a tremendous blow so soon. He carefully stirred up the embers of his lost love, but they refused to burn into a blaze: there was only a comfortable glow that warmed and did him good without putting him into a fever, and he was reluctantly obliged to confess that the boyish passion was slowly subsiding into a more tranquil sentiment, very tender, a little sad and resentful still, but that was sure to pass away in time, leaving a brotherly affection which would last unbroken to the end.”

This passage alone pretty much puts to rest the idea that Laurie never got over Jo. He actually got over her so easily and quickly that he felt disgusted with himself, thinking this made him fickle. His romantic feelings are gone, and soon will leave only a “brotherly affection” when the last of the hurt is gone as well. Maybe he got over her so easily because he simply mistook his strong bond with her for romance, or maybe it was just a rash and immature first love that was never going to last long anyways, or whatever else... point being, he got over her.

And Laurie was actually trying, and failing, to rekindle any love for Jo (unlike his unconscious growing feelings for Amy, which he wasn’t pushing for at all). As a last ditch attempt to revive that love, he writes to Jo asking if she was sure about her refusal, and when she responds that she absolutely could never love him that way, he accepts it without sadness or complaint this time. He’s already over her, so there’s nothing to be heartbroken over. That was his closure. He takes off the ring she gave him and locks it away with her letters, and that’s that. 

And that’s when he’s ready to open his heart to Amy. He starts corresponding with her so often their letters are flying back and forth constantly. He wants to go back to her, but he doesn’t want to until she asks; she finally does after she hears about Beth’s passing, and Laurie immediately drops everything to go to her “with a heart full of joy and sorrow, hope and suspense” (and this is after he knows she’s turned down Fred, so we know what he’s hoping for now). Amy is his first priority after Beth dies, even though Beth was dearest to Jo. Laurie meets Amy in Switzerland and, without saying anything, they both know their relationship has changed. 

They spend weeks doing everything together and spend all their time out at the lake. Despite the sad tidings, they wind up being their happiest together in Vevey. They both know that they’re in love with each other without even having to say it (they really seem to develop an unspoken communication at this point). And while Laurie knows that she’ll say “yes” to his proposal, he’s still nervous so he puts it off to enjoy his time with Amy in Switzerland. He imagines proposing to her in the chateau garden at moonlight, but instead blurts it out while they’re on a lake in the middle of the day:

Feeling that she had not mended matters much, Amy took the offered third of a seat, shook her hair over her face, and accepted an oar. She rowed as well as she did many other things; and, though she used both hands, and Laurie but one, the oars kept time, and the boat went smoothly through the water. “How well we pull together, don’t we?” said Amy, who objected to silence just then. “So well that I wish we might always pull in the same boat. Will you, Amy?” very tenderly. “Yes, Laurie,” very low. Then they both stopped rowing, and unconsciously added a pretty little tableau of human love and happiness to the dissolving views reflected in the lake.

And there’s so much to say about this little scene. While he had to beg and argue with Jo just to finally accept her firm “no”, he just has to ask a simple question with Amy and he gets his simple answer because they’re on the same page. The rather blunt metaphor of rowing well together, even when he uses one hand and she uses two, is all about how despite their differences they work. They keep time. And it calls back to Jo’s talk with Marmee where they both agree that Jo and Laurie never would’ve worked, in part because their similarities would clash horribly in a romantic relationship (but mainly because , y’know, Jo never once felt a single shred of romantic love for Laurie). 

Now, I can understand where people come from thinking Laurie was “replacing” Jo with Amy with lines like "Laurie decided that Amy was the only woman in the world who could fill Jo’s place and make him happy”. I get how this can be interpreted as Amy filling in for what was meant to be Jo’s place in his heart. But it makes a lot more sense in the context of Laurie’s speech to Jo towards the end when he explains his feelings:

“I never shall stop loving you; but the love is altered, and I have learned to see that it is better as it is. Amy and you changed places in my heart, that’s all. I think it was meant to be so, and would have come about naturally, if I had waited, as you tried to make me; but I never could be patient, and so I got a heartache. I was a boy then, headstrong and violent; and it took a hard lesson to show me my mistake. For it was one, Jo, as you said, and I found it out, after making a fool of myself. Upon my word, I was so tumbled up in my mind, at one time, that I didn’t know which I loved best, you or Amy, and tried to love you both alike; but I couldn’t. And when I saw her in Switzerland, everything seemed to clear up all at once. You both got into your right places.”

Laurie didn’t settle for Amy. Amy took Jo’s place in the sense that they swapped places in how he saw them, from romantic to platonic for Jo and vice versa for Amy. And those wound up being their “right” places. He believes he was always meant to fall in love with Amy and see Jo as his sister, and that he would’ve gotten to this point naturally even if things had played out differently.

I’ll admit I wasn’t a fan of how the 2019 film portrayed Jo in this situation, because in the book she was absolutely thrilled for Laurie and Amy, and is happily surprised when Marmee tells her she’d been hoping for them to fall in love. But in the film, they take her sadness over her loneliness too far IMO, and make it seem like she was actually bitter over Amy and Laurie being together, which unfortunately fuelled the “Amy stole Laurie from Jo” crowd a bit. And after her conversation with Marmee where she admits that she only wants Laurie because she longs to be loved, and Marmee points that “that isn’t the same as loving”, this makes movie!Jo seem “silly and selfish” as book!Jo puts it (because in the book, that was only a “what if” she entertained and never wrote any letter). 

Anyways, to conclude on all of this, when Amy and Laurie are married at and home, we get the thoughts of other characters on their relationship, and the unanimous opinion is that they’re completely in love and happy with each other. Jo herself insists that their happiness will for sure last, and notes how proud Laurie seems to be to call Amy his wife. Laurie, meanwhile, can’t stop talking about Amy through to the end (and Amy is clearly just as smitten). I dare you to read the last half of Part 2 and not find Amy and Laurie adorable together. 

And to hammer that last nail in the coffin on Jo/Laurie as a romance, we get Laurie meeting Professor Bhaer. It’s specifically noted that while Laurie is suspicious of Bhaer and notices his interest in Jo, it was “not of jealousy” but a “brotherly circumspection”. Amy even asks him if he’s at all jealous and Laurie tells her “I assure you I can dance at Jo’s wedding with a heart as light as my heels. Do you doubt it, my darling?” and it says that Amy’s “last little jealous fear vanished forever”. Laurie actually winds up happily supporting Bhaer once he sees he’s a great guy for his sister Jo, and suggests to Amy that they should try to help them out as a couple.

So no, Jo never loved Laurie romantically, Laurie absolutely did get over Jo, Laurie and Amy are so happy together it’s almost obnoxious, Jo is pro-Amy/Laurie and Laurie is pro-Jo/Bhaer, and Amy wasn’t a second choice, she was Laurie’s “meant to be” by his own words.

[bleuwrites]

Tomorrow is Hard to Find

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa Additional Tags: Past Rape/Non-con, graphic depictions of Dirtyhands doing Dirtyhands things, Angst, they may be able to touch each other but they're still disasters, the one where I chase them up a tree and throw rocks at them (figuratively), Kanej-related Rule of Wolves spoilers

Chapter 1

Since Jordie died Kaz does not stir into wakefulness languidly, he startles into it. His heart inevitably jouncing as his eyes reel around his rooms, looking for any sign of threat, always on alert. When he is not in the Slat it is even worse. It takes him bare moments to remember they are Shriftport, but in those moments between waking and recognition his hand reaches for the pistol left stuffed between the mattress and the bed frame.

There are gold rings stacked on the little table to his left, part of his and Inej’s disguise as a married couple on vacation in Novyi Zem. They left the glass-paneled doors to the terrace open to try to coax in a breeze, but the netting around the bed is still. He doesn’t know how it can be so hot before the sun has even risen, but at some point in the night he pulled his shirt off. Inej is still asleep, curled on her side to his right. He presses a kiss to her shoulder and slips out of bed, doing his best not to disturb her because even if he can’t sleep she should.

Kaz finds a chair out on the terrace and takes in the sweeping views the promontory their hotel is situated on affords, rolling the rings between his fingers like the trickster he is. The rising sun reveals the deep turquoise of the bay; the buildings painted in vibrant oranges and yellows like the jurda flowers Novyi Zem is known for. Mercifully, the dawn brings a breeze with it, rustling the green crowns of the date palms and kicking up little white caps on the ocean.

When he was a child in Lij, morning was his favorite time of day. Kaz thinks of the boy he was then, so mesmerized by the subtle changes that would reveal themselves to him each morning. The wheat stalks a little taller, then with leaves, then spiked heads of grain. It used to drive Jordie mad the way Kaz would demand his attention, pointing out each subtle change. That boy could not have foreseen the man he’d become, the things he’d have to do to survive, but little Kaspar Rietveld would have loved this morning in this strange new place, too.

For a long time, he thought that boy died in Fifth Harbor. But the truth was, Kaz had buried him somewhere deep inside himself. With every act of violence, act of cruelty and callousness, Dirtyhands had thrown another shovelful of dirt into the grave he put the boy he was in. It wasn’t until that terrible day on Vellgeluk that he realized Inej had slowly been digging Kaz Rietveld out, clearing the grave dirt from his mouth, letting him breathe again.

The first year was the hardest. He thought vengeance would finally silence Jordie’s ghost. It didn’t. That ghost had screamed and raged inside him. When Inej told him rage was just grief we’d held onto for too long, he screamed at her too. There were times - many times - he lashed out, used his cruelty like a whip to try and drive her away. He wanted her to leave, to turn her back on Ketterdam, to prove his worst instincts right. He wanted to put his armor back on, so, so desperately.

And always, inevitably, the question, asked with the kind of patience he found maddening, What are you afraid of, Kaz?

That you will leave me. Like Jordie. Like everyone I’ve ever loved. It took Kaz a long time to admit it to himself. He never admitted it to Inej.

The second year was harder. He took her to Lij and told her everything, wove together the whole rotten tapestry of his life for her. The wounds inside him opened up and wept so much fresh blood he thought he would drown in it. He would wake gasping from dreams of Jordie playing cards at the Crow Club, his skin mottled and bruised and sloughing onto the felt of the card table. Or his father leaving a bloody wake of entrails as he pursued Kaz through the Barrel. They died in his dreams every night, so he stopped sleeping. Kept himself going on coffee and jurda until he collapsed from exhaustion.

When Inej returned to port early she found him slumped over his desk after days of refusing to rest. Her face had been etched in sadness and worry when she roused him enough that he opened his eyes. “I was angry too. It took me a long time to realize I needed to grieve the life that was stolen from me,” she said, her voice quiet and her fingers gentle as they traced the too prominent hollows of his cheeks. “Did you never mourn, Kaz?”

He didn’t answer, just held her hand over his heart and asked her to stay once she had forced him up to his bed for some proper sleep. She did, for a while anyway.

The third year had been a nightmare for different reasons. That was the first time he asked her to be his wife. It didn’t help.

Her legend had grown by that point, big enough to put a target on her back. Per Haskell’s name on her indenture documents was enough to get the Slat, the Crow Club, and The Silver Six raided and turned inside out. They wanted Inej, but Kaz still had enough enemies in Ketterdam that they would have settled for throwing him in Hellgate for the trouble. They both knew what taking on slavers would cost them. His businesses had been clean and she had been free of them since he took over the Dregs, save for certain, select occasions.

When that didn’t work they put a price on her head. Inej’s wanted posters littered the city; no matter where he went her face was staring at him. She couldn’t set foot in Kerch or its colonies without risking arrest or assassination. Her partnership with Strumhond, and by extension the Crown, had granted her safety in Ravka. She had a home in Os Kervo (a house, she would chastise him, you are my home), and a life he felt only distantly a part of no matter what she said.

As he watched her dance and laugh so easily with Nikolai at Nina's wedding that year something had splintered inside of him. It wasn’t jealousy -- Nikolai’s love for Zoya was so obvious Kaz knew there was nothing to be jealous of --, but longing. The same longing that had him clutching at her hand on the deck of the Ferolind. The longing for impossible things.

What they wanted had been divergent after they kidnapped Kuwei; she wanted to turn her back on Ketterdam and never return; he wanted to bring it to its knees, rule it like a shadow king. After the auction Kaz got his power, Inej got her freedom and they found a way to forge a future together. Until it had been taken from them, at least.

Later, when they were alone in their quarters he’d asked her to marry him.

“Why?” she asked, her eyes searching for something she wasn’t going to find.

“Because the odds of us surviving will sink to zero at some point. Because if we’re going to die I want to go to the other side as your husband.”

“I will not marry you out of fear, Kaz.” She’d said it softly, tenderly, her voice heavy with regret.

He knew the words were coming before she even opened her mouth. The knowing did nothing to quell the pain in his heart as she said them. Kaz didn’t argue with her, but later, when they were in bed and the distance between them felt greater than the breadth of the True Sea, the thread that connected her to him felt perilously thin.

Keep Reading

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

🌼 any of them

Whoops, wrote a fic

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

An optimist would look at the world of divination with wonder. The universe is a but a magnificent hall of tapestries, beautiful pieces of art woven into anything you could imagine. Tapestries where you are a hero, tapestries where you are royalty, tapestries where your people live with riches, tapestries depicting your eternal victory over your enemies. The universe is endless and bountiful, for in the future, all futures are possible.

This is how Astor usually can depict the good fortune tellers from the worse.

If they’re an optimist, they’re most likely a faker.

The only true divinator that he had met that was even a bit of an optimist was his mother, and even then, he had always had the sinking feeling that she hid a deeper sorrow behind her simple shoes of colorful flames and shining moon and starlight. No, it was quite hard to stick to true, unfiltered optimism in this field, as while it was true that all futures and choices were possible, that freewill ran its course through all who walked the vast possibilities of the universe, the issue came in the fact that you could not travel it to and fro.

There are futures where you live, there are futures where you achieve your wildest dreams, timelines where your childhood is happier, and timelines where you find true love and satisfaction.

But you aren’t in those timelines. The future you have is this one, and it is set in stone.

Walk all the roads you want, say all the words, read all the stories, but when a seer analyzed exactly what world we live in, exactly what end is destined for this string of the universe, there will be no holding back. There is only the unfiltered, raw, typically pessimistic truth of the end. Savor it.

“In truth, Elane, I hate my job. Fear it, even,” Astor set his teacup down, looking out the balcony towards the inky, midnight view. “I fear one day I will find the prediction—the true, ultimate glimpse into the night, that seals in the fact that we’re doomed.”

The Queen only cocked her head with a smile. “Well, I’m flattered that there’s still a ‘we’ in this scenario. Good to know I’ll be joining you in the lockup when my mother find our contraband cucco nuggets—“

“I’m serious, Elane.”

She only laughed quietly, before leaning back in her chair, and gazing out into the pleasant evening. “I know...”

There was a quiet between them, not quite awkward or stiffening, but quiet in the way that you might hold your breath after someone embraces you warmly. Quiet in acceptance, quiet to make room for the sounds of something rare and fickle.

“I swear, I might retire early,” Astor finally said. “Quit while I’m ahead. Head off to Hateno or Mabe and bury my head in the sand.”

“You might want to try Gerudo then, if sand is what you’re searching for. I’m sure Urbosa would be thrilled.”

“Tsk. I am inclined to disagree.”

Elane chuckled again, and she let the quiet embrace her for a moment.

“Eternal doom aside, for a moment, I would posit that there’s hardly anything to fear. You’ve foreseen my daughter’s growth, analyzed the future livelihood of the kingdom, and predicted our victory over Ganon. I’d say it’s hard to bargain with that.”

“Maybe, but I could be wrong.” Astor circled his finger on the lip of his cup. “It happens, people make a prediction, but miss one star, or slip up one word...or perhaps one cow suddenly dies, or one ember quickly fades, and suddenly we’re actually in an entirely different timeline than predicted.”

“Didymos Astor? Wrong about something? Oh my, I never thought I’d see the day...” Elane smiled to herself again as she lifted her cup for another sip.

Astor clicked his tongue. “Well. You should hope I’m not wrong about anything. If someone of my skill makes an incorrect prediction, it would probably be disastrous for everyone.”

Elane winked as she set down her cup. “Well, good thing you’re a prodigy, then.”

“Good thing, indeed.”

Quiet keep their third company once again. Astor still had not sipped from his cup, but Elane was already heading for her fourth refill, no doubt begging for any energy after tucking her daughter to bed. A young toddler with enough energy to power a Guardian army, Elane has always found it quite odd that she used up a lot of her energy to annoy the Royal Seer. It was charming to see him get put off by a Mallory’s boundless curious aura, but mostly relieving in the sense that the Queen could get a moments rest and trust little Zelda would be alright.

Elane looked back inside through the half open door, and smiled at a bundled sleeping figure, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. She then turned back and finally noticed Astor’s continued silence on the next refill.

She sighed. “Although I would be saddened to see you leave,” she began, “If a retirement would make you happy, Astor, I would loathe to do anything to stand in your way.”

He looked up at her, analyzing her body language and expression. She was genuine, of course, as she always was in these sorts of talks. Astor finally let himself exhale in peace, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Unfortunately I don’t think it would do me much good, anyways. Location won’t let me escape my own thoughts and visions.” He took a sip of his tea—a bit citrusy this evening, a hint of apple—and relaxed. “I’d imagine His Majesty would miss me dearly, and I simply wouldn’t want to leave him in distress.”

“Ha! Oh yes of course, Rhoam would be crying tears if you left us...” she replied, sarcastically. “Tears of deep, deep sorrow.”

Astor looked out into the night in silence again, not touching his cup.

“But I’ll tell you what Astor,” Elane began again. “If you ever receive that world dooming prediction, whatever may happen that may instigate your view of the deepest hells,” she raised her cup. “You come find me, and we’ll have a drink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A drink? What sort of drink?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you like. Tea, wine, beer, water or juice if it’s your fancy. Whatever will keep your spirits high.”

Astor smirked, solemnly. “I don’t think you understand just how severe and dreadful certain predictions can be. When we say ‘all futures are possible,’ we do mean all possibilities.”

“And I understand, dear seer. I truly do.” She tilted her head as she kept her cup in the air. “But the way I see it, is that with divination or not, doom and hell come into people’s lives one way or the other. But it hasn’t really stopped the majority from loving their lives now, has it?” Her eyes twinkled like starlight. “Dearest Astor, if our destined doom is predicted one day, I command you to at least smile through our tea party.”

Quiet.

He finally sighed, the corners of his lips perking. His protests drowning in her expression.

“I suppose if you’re the one pouring, it’d be difficult to refuse.” He raised his cup and clinked it with hers.

She was dead eight days later.

With her death came the final factor. The final star.

“Your daughter is destined to fail us,” he said again. “The Calamity shall rise and consume us all, and she won’t stop it in time.”

Rhoam slammed his fists on the desk, but the seer did not flinch. “We’ll train her hard, we’ll start now, even! I’ll get those clerics from the temple to teach her the starting prayers!” he yelled.

“It won’t work.” Astor replied, simply. “Perhaps she might attain them down the line, but she most certainly won’t awaken her powers by Ganon’s rise. It’s over.”

“You told me we could do this!” Rhoam pointed a finger, accusingly. “You saw our prosperity, our victory!”

“That was what I initially saw, yes. But unfortunately we live in world where the Queen of Hyrule is dead, and thus the threads of our future weave accordingly.”

“You’re a liar!” Rhoam bellowed again. “You saw her death, saw our end and lied to us since the beginning, haven’t you?!!”

“Don’t you think that if I knew Elane would die, I would say something?! That I would give ample time for her to say goodbye to you and her daughter??” Astor finally raised his voice, met with equal silence. “I failed to correctly analyze our timeline the first time around, and for that I am sorry. But I can not control what pieces of the future fate allows me to see. It’s not an open novel for you to give me a bad book report grade on. It’s a museum of endless tapestries, of which I am task with analyzing one stroke at a time to identify which is woven to a singular man, and the fact that I have given you a complete enough answer now is a gift within itself, so don’t even try to accuse me forgery and lies.”

The two men clenched their jaws, staring angrily at each other.

Astor finally whispered. “Overtime I might gather more specifics, but overall—this is over.”

Rhoam balles his hand into a fist. “We’ll start a new schedule for Zelda first thing in the morning—“

“It won’t work, it’s futile—“

“We’ll make it work—“

“This is set in stone, this is the world you live in—“

“Well what if you’re wrong again?”

“I’m not.”

“But what if you are?”

“I’m. Not. I’ve read the signs again and again and again, in fact I’ve been reaching the same conclusions repeatedly for the last four weeks. It. Is set. In stone.” He tapped his finger on the wood with each syllable to emphasize. “Perhaps the futures of prosperity are accurate for the Rhoams and Mallorys that live in a different time, but unfortunately for us, we live in one where Elane is dead. This is our reality and you’re doing no good denying as such.”

Silence.

Rhoam made his way towards the door. “You’re a liar.” The seer scoffed. “You’re a liar and you don’t know what you’re saying! Borderline treason if I’m being honest! You’re pathetic, and a rotten fake—“

“If it pleases His Majesty to confirm the integrity of his humble subject,” Astor cut in, sarcastically, “It might be good to know that also I’ve predicted you won’t imprison me, or exile me, or execute me, given you’re still ever reliant on my uncontested skills for more personal matters. That, and you wish to try and keep me around to hopefully prove me wrong, in which you can then tell yourself you’d be in the right to truly punish me.” He stared the regent dead in the eyes. “But don’t worry, you won’t.”

Rhoam slammed the door shut as he stomped off.

That night, Astor has another dream. Or perhaps it was a vision, he wasn’t sure, as the details were so surreal and horrific and captivating that it would have surely been a blessing to chalk it up entirely to vivid imagination.

There were screams and the sound of rocks crumbling. Bones were cracking and monsters were squealing and shrieking. And be felt his arms burn, and he felt his soul drain, and he looked down to see his skin peeling into dark flakes, his muscles, sludge. And in the distance, a young woman with golden hair laughed at him, but her eyes were hollow and gold. And she laughed and laughed as his body was slowly broken to pieces, bones torn asunder, skin burned to smoldering malice, senses vivid until the final moment when he woke.

But the good thing about nightmares, was that...that was it. There was no where else to go. There was nothing left to offer. No more pain to fear.

It made sense of course. Of course, of course. He never went to the funeral, he never offered his sympathies. There was no longer anything to mourn, as he allowed himself to view the world in its true, disgusting form. The people were doomed, and the dead, well...perhaps they might have deserved it. Yes, that was the only way this all made sense, of course. He even stopped trying to warn other folk after a few too many dozen harsh rejections to his character. No, now in complete isolation and resignation of his path, there was nothing else that could possibly drag him back to—

“How do I die?” Zelda Mallory Hyrule asked, one day.

At first, he was confused, and he turned in his chair. “What?”

She was seven at the time, and it was truly an odd and concerning thing to be coming from a seven year old girl’s mouth. Or perhaps it wasn’t, given the circumstances.

“How do I die?” she said again. She was laying down on his worn carpet, fiddling with the frilled edge.

Was she truly that bored? Already out of other questions? Hmph, he had always warned her to stay away, as a seer’s office wasn’t really meant for childish entertainment. Yet still she always came and asked to hide away from her father, and, well...anything to spite that man...

“Why do you ask?” he finally replied. Had someone said something to her? A threat? He clenched his jaw. I swear, if that fool tried to force her powers by—

“You’re always going on about how I’m wasting my time with praying and stuff...but father says I still gotta to stop the Calamity or else we could all die.” She didn’t look up from the bits of carpet string she was playing with (and contemplating on popping in her mouth), “So I figured if you tell me how I die we can settle the debate for good!”

Astor just sighed. “Well, of course you d—“

He stopped himself, but not for the reasons a more put together person, might. Not because of the generally frowned upon action of telling a child how she dies, no, that was not exactly beyond him. No, Astor cut off his sentence simply because it had crossed his mind that—

“...I’m not entirely sure...” he whispered.

He suddenly stood. Walking towards the other end of his office, carefully stepping over the child. “E-Excuse me a moment.”

Why had he never considered this? Of course, he had seen the signs clearly enough, the visions, the stars. A girl cries over a corpse, a light vanishes in the night. Malice plagued the sky and dooms the day. But did the Calamity actually kill her? Does she drown in rubble and malice like the others? Slain by a demon or monster perhaps? Or if not, then, would that mean...?

The princess soon forgot about the question by the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next.

Astor spent nearly eight sleepless nights into finding an answer.

But he never truly did.

These things happened more times than one may think, when it came to predictions. Vagueness was commonplace, but specificities and straightforward answers were about as rare as a green sunset. Of course, he knew she would die, goddess blood or not, she lived the life of a mortal. But how? When? While it certainly wasn’t impossible to predict a person’s death, but whatever the circumstances of Mallory’s was made the process was infuriatingly impossible.

It was possible she would die of malice or suffocation under rubble, even circumstances where she dies at the Ganon’s hand himself. But then there were clear visions of her living, walking through a grassy field, ruins in the distance covered in leaves and moss, her turning and calling to a friend to keep up with her pace.

But no, nonono. She would die during the Calamity’s rise, that was the majority of what the futures offered to her were. That was the probable outcome.

But the factors and visions and signs and alignments were so fine and minuscule in difference, that Astor truly couldn’t a true statement, a true prediction, a true answer to the question. What timeline did we live in?

It taunted him.

Maybe it was better if the question was put to rest, did it even matter?

“Mallory?” he asked. “That’s a stupid name.”

“What?! No it’s not!” Elane laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Please, YOU’RE not one to talk.”

“Well as a victim of stupid first names, I think I’m qualified to speak accurately on the subject.”

“Aha! But it’s not technically a first name.” Elane tapped his head. “It’s a middle name, her first name would be ‘Zelda,’ of course.”

“Yes, and that is also a s—“

The queen shoved his shoulder into the wall before he even finished the sentence. “Oh would you shut up...”

He laughed, unconventionally carefree. Her Majesty’s happiness these days truly was contagious. Or perhaps that was a side effect of pregnancy? Did all expecting mother’s give off this aura?

“I think it’s a wonderful name.” Elane said. “Reminds me of a cute little duck, like a mallard!” She tucked her arms and flapped her elbows to imitate as such. “Quack, quack!”

“This is further adding to my argument actually”

“Hmph! Ok then Mr. Overseer of all names” She tapped a finger to his chest. “If it’s such a stupid name, then when she starts getting bullied for it around the castle, I shall expect you to take care of her in full.”

He scoffed. “Oh, I’ll be sure to do so. She’ll definitely need it.”

Elane pecked his head with a kiss.

“Good! I grant you my blessing lovingly tease her, as well. And I expect the best from you, Astor!”

His face suddenly warmed for some reason, and he couldn’t form words.

“What?”

“.....W...”

He was suddenly whack in the head with a rolled up piece of paper. Astor sprang awake from his desk. “...W...What...?”

“Morning, Mr. Astor!!” Princess Zelda-Mallory beamed. “And happy birthday!!! Sorry I woke you up early, but I needed to give this to you before the winter solstice festival later and—“

She continued to ramble on and on, but Astor simply opened the rolled up paper she had handed to him. It was simply filled with dozens and dozens, arguably hundreds, of hand drawn stars. In the corner was written, “You always look at the same stars so here’s some new ones!” in crude purple crayon. At the time, he failed to notice the accompanying note on the back that read “One for each year of how old you are!” Thankfully he was too busy looking through the different stars, with varying degrees of sparkles and smiley faces.

He finally looked back at the princess, who was still rambling on and on about her day, and her father’s day, and her newest stuffy dress, and her latest adventures with her stuffed toys, and—

“Why are you always here, Zelda?” Astor finally said. She stopped talking, looking at him, quizzically. “I mean...” he grumbled, “You know I don’t really like you, right?

“Eh, I don’t care. I think you’re neat!!” She held out her arms as she zoomed around his circular office. “Your room is so cool! And you got fun books!”

“Necromancy isn’t necessarily what I would consider ‘fun’ reading material—“

“Plus your outfits are cool, and you’re super smart, like my mom.”

He blinked.

“Plus, you’re the only one that’s not mean to me about my dumb powers. But really that’s just a chair on the top!”

“Do you mean cherry on top?”

“No! I meant chair! Watch me!! I’m gonna do a backflip off of this—“

“NO.” Astor immediately stood up, and snatched the girl off of the wooden chair. “NO. No backflips.” He set her down on the rug and pointed to a side of the room which held a broken table, stool, and a few old chairs—the victims of the princess’ previous acrobatic attempts.

She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. “You’re no fun!”

“I’m running out of furniture, is what I am.”

“But I’ll let this slide since it’s your birthday! Hmph.”

She started pulling at the loose threads of the carpet. “Don’t know why you had to stop my birthday backflip! Who cares if I get a little scratch?”

“I do—“

“YOU DO?!” Mallory was immediately up and clinging to his robes.

Astor sputtered, instinctively waving his arms to free himself from the child’s grip. But then he finally processed her question, and...

“I...” He looked at her starlight eyes. She had that stupid, naive grin that he always remembered from her mother. A stupid, pathetic, horrible, terrible, optimistic smile.

He finally scoffed. “I just can’t have you getting hurt on my watch, as otherwise, I’d probably be a dead man. That’s all.”

The princess lifted her hands in a “hooray!” fashion, and yelled the exclamation, accordingly. She then resumed her zipping and zooming around the room, much to Astor’s unexpected relief.

That night, he visited the question again.

Why? He didn’t really know.

The question wouldn’t offer him anything, it wouldn’t relieve him of anything—in fact it really did just the opposite. If he found that died miserably, it would be another scream in the nightmare, another nail in the comforting coffin of despair. But if he someone found that she lived, that there was a day after the Calamity, where even a child such as her could possibly prosper...

Having hope and seeing it fail anyway would probably be the most torturous of all.

Again, he had a dream, of a world tainted by blood and malice. But this time he was floating. He was floating and watching the end of it all.

Castle Town was nothing but ruins and ash, and no colors existed but red, black, and grey.

He couldn’t hear anything but a shrill hum in his ears, but he knew there was screaming. He looked to his hand, expecting to see malice or blackened skin, but instead found a strange floating device in his palm. It spin slowly, pink constellations drifting across its surface.

The hum in his ears turned into a groan, and then a whisper. It said something familiar, but he was sure he had never heard it before.

It is time.

The next night he had a dream of a girl standing in a green field, calling out to her friends somewhere behind her. She rested under the ruins of a collapsed pillar, and ate a homemade sandwich with a memorable smile.

Astor reached a conclusion.

In most futures, the girl dies horribly. He wrote in his journal. To be expected, I would assume the rise of the Calamity isn’t exactly easy to survive from.

But what I have discovered is a very specific set of circumstances that lead to a more favorable outcome, at least for her.

I have no way of knowing if it accurately depicts the comings of our time, or another. There are too many variables and specifics. Too long I have spent trying to discern our fate, but the probabilities and possibilities for doom are so interchangeable that it really go either way. The only truth I know is that she lives if—

He paused, tapping the dry quill to the desk again in thought. He dipped it once more.

I’ve decided that if I ever find myself in the scenario where I can solidify her a more favorable destiny, I will take it. I can only hope dare to alter my existing nightmare into something different, there’s really nothing left to lose, is there?

Astor leaned in his chair for a moment, savoring the silence of his office. He looked out the window and took in the night. The stars were gorgeous this evening.

Although if it fails I hope it kills me.

Call it arrogance, but I don’t think I can handle being wrong again.

The seer sighed, then suddenly flipped to the next blank page, angrily.

If I had never met her it would have been fine. If I had just minded my own damn business and continued to work in being resigned to our fate, at least then I could have—

There was a soft knock at his door.

He knew who it was.

Astor pinched the bridge of his nose as he opened it. “It’s past 2am, Princess, what could you possibly have to tell me?”

She looked down and shuffled her feet. “I had a nightmare...”

“Yes, people do have those sometimes.” He immediately closed the door.

Another knock.

After a moment, Astor opened it again. “Don’t you have guards outside your room, how did you sneak up here?”

“Secret tunnel!” She grinned, proudly, as she replied with a sort of sing-song tone.

“That’s nice.”

The door slammed shut again.

She knocked once more. There was the longest pause.

“FFFFFFine!” The world was out of his lips before he even fully swung open the door, and Mallory happily scrambled inside. “But no touching anything, I’m working.”

“It’s ok, I just wanna stay up all night and read your books!” She was already scrambling for the necromancy section, again.

Astor sighed, and went to slump back into his desk. The princess was already sprawled across the floor, distracting herself with another stack of wondrous, ill-recommended book. He didn’t really care.

I don’t really care. He wrote once again. I know there are futures where I dedicate myself to the Calamity, and she dies anyway. I know it doesn’t really matter, I know it’s hopeless to care, and that’s why I don’t.

He looked back at Zelda, he saw her slowly blink back her tiredness. He knew in a few hours or so, he’d have to drop her sleepy figure back off to those useless guards, and berate then for letting her wander off again, as it always was.

If I do this and it’s all for nothing, he began, I fear it will be worse than if I had just stood to the side and perished. It’s already doomed, and this pathetic, foolish optimism might cause me to turn this nightmare into something even worse.

He sighed, and the hours passed as he just sat with his thoughts.

Zelda was using and open book as a pillow.

Astor opened the door, and went to pick her up.

I’m not living through another nightmare. He thought, as he descended the stairs from the observatory. The girl’s breathing was steady as she wrapped an arm by his shoulder.

If it fails I hope it kills me before I see it. He repeated again.

I can’t handle being wrong again.

[pennyserenade]

this is not any fanfic related content, but a little section i’ve written for my own personal enjoyment (because it has been a long time since i’ve written anything, it feels like). it’ll probably go somewhere in today, tomorrow, yesterday, because it is about those characters, i’m just not sure where. anyways i’d thought i’d share it because why not

when she fixed her eyes back onto him, charlie felt the warmth of her heavy lidded gaze, and he knew he felt it because she wanted him to feel it. everything was so exact with ruby, as though she was the director and he was the actor; charlie stood on his marks and sculpted his pretty face to the emotions she wanted him to feel, and at the end of the day, he felt like he was her very best muse. maybe he should’ve known then that this sort of thing wasn’t meant to last - when she fixed her pretty brown eyes on him and he responded accordingly, looking at her as though she was the most clever woman he’d ever seen, just to see her lips rise in a smile. given that he was once married and once divorced by then, and that he was getting to that age where love was not something to be taken by, but sensible about, they would write that charlie knew that she was like this. that he was cruel to tire of it later. they would say that he once liked the puppet strings, or even that he held her up by his very own, and that they played some sick, sordid game that made for quite a lot of fun behind closed doors. in some ways, maybe they had captured a sliver of the picture in their misguided attempts to understand what had made he and ruby beautiful, and then what made them ugly after it was all over. however, they failed on every account to understand that charlie could not foresee the future, and that ruby acted the way she did, not because she was devious or wicked, but because she wanted his trust. through her calculated movements, ruby was telling charlie, “let me take it for a while, let me guide you” and he let her, because he loved her and because he was tired and he had badly needed a person like herself to prop him up. he was an actor in every sense, and ruby was a director in all the ways a woman could be back then; it was ideal. he could never have foreseen how that would ever turn ugly, even if it was obvious to everyone else. he would never have wanted to. maybe he still would not, if you asked him now. maybe he would tell you that he would never change a single moment for the world. 

[carminite-wyrm]

Hero-of-Kvatch!Nyx AU, Part 2!

aka, Nyx continues to not have a great time in the tunnels beneath the Imperial Prison.

Again, story under the cut.

Part 1

The most ridiculous part of this whole matter, Nyx decided, was not the not-daemons (the creatures had certainly looked the part, but they hadn’t disappeared into a cloud of miasma after he’d killed them) he had encountered in the tunnels as he made his way out of the prison. It was the fact that no one had commented on both his injuries, or his tattered uniform that was very much not fitting the ‘high fantasy novel’ aesthetic he was also wrapping his head around.

Even as the brisk pace that the elderly man – who was apparently Uriel Septim VII, the Emperor of the nation Nyx now found himself in – and his entourage set through the tunnels did wonders for working out the lingering stiffness in his body, (as did the vaguely nightmarish path earlier full of the largest rats Nyx had ever seen), Nyx found his mind starting to spiral off into multiple tangents, trying to process the wealth of information he had already managed to gather.

He had died, that was almost an undeniable fact. And then he had awoken in what he was now absolutely certain was a different universe, to find himself in a cell that he was shortly released from by the Emperor of the land of Tamriel, who was fleeing cultist-assassins who had most likely already claimed the lives of his heirs. On top of all of that, the Emperor (and Nyx, apparently), were mixed up in some sort of shared fate or prophecy, that likely had to do with the gods of this realm if Nyx was understanding things correctly.

Nyx was fervently doing his best to try and ignore how the situation was rather similar to what he had just lived in his own world. It had been almost too easy for him to slip back into the role of a bodyguard and defender of a King, to the point that one of the guards, Baurus, had given him several suspicious looks when he had found their group once again, and introduced himself as Nyx.

He silently cursed the lack of his kukris, the weight of the short sword he had found in the tunnels slightly awkward in his hand, as he fended off one of the strange assassins that were chasing their group, the blade nevertheless good enough to sink through a chink in his opponent’s armour. Even the slightest drop of magic to blast some of them away faster would have been useful, but he was fairly certain that the magic he once had was now gone. Dead and gone, vanished when Regis’ body had-

He grit his teeth, shoving that thought away along with the dead body that slid off his blade.

Even if this Emperor Uriel was supposedly meant to die at some point in the coming future, Nyx would do his best to help him avoid that ‘fate’. Quite frankly, he’d had enough of talks of fate and destiny, and the fact that the Emperor looked about as resigned to his fate as Regis had been-

The group halted as they found the way to the sewers to be barred, and Nyx suddenly had a sinking feeling. He readied his sword, just in time for one of the guards– Blades, the Emperor had called them –to call out that it was a trap. He followed them as they tried a side passage, only to find that it was a dead end.

“Wait here with the Emperor,” One of the Blades ordered, as the sound of assassins entering the previous chamber grew louder. “Guard him with your life!”

And before Nyx could even muster up a shred of disagreement, that perhaps leaving their Emperor with a man who they had previously thought to be a criminal, and also visibly injured even if he wasn’t actively bleeding or burning to death was a terrible idea, the two Blades had rushed off to engage the assassins.

“Well, at least this room is somewhat defensible,” Nyx sighed, readying his sword as he briefly gave the room a once-over to see if there was something he could use to barricade the entrance. Finding nothing, he instead took up a post by the doorway, readying his sword. Once confident that he’d be able to see any danger that would appear, he turned his attention back to the Emperor, only to find an amulet with a bright red gem being held out to him.

“…Isn’t that yours?” Nyx asked, a sinking feeling starting to settle into his stomach. This was starting to look very, very, familiar. “Why-“

The Emperor’s eyes were startlingly clear, and kind, as he explained that this would be where he was to die, and that he wished for Nyx to not only take his amulet, but find his last son, a secret son that only another man named Jauffre knew the location of.

“This amulet…it isn’t just some family heirloom, is it?”

The Emperor shook his head. “It is the Amulet of Kings, and must pass to the last of the Dragon’s Blood.”

“…Don’t tell me this contains some sort of great power that only someone blood-related to you can wield, a power that was granted to you by a dragon god. And that it will help to end a world-ending calamity.”

“That…is exactly it.” The Emperor gave him a curious look. “That is not common knowledge.”

“I…I’m not quite sure how to explain it.” Nyx admitted. “It’s…a long story.”

“Take the Amulet, and then in the little time we have left, I would hear what you can tell of your story. Your fate lies past the moment of my death, I do not worry that you will fall with the Amulet.”

Nyx glanced around the room, finding it still clear of danger for the time being, even if the sounds of fighting had moved ever so slightly closer to them. He slowly took the Amulet, tucking it away in one of the pockets in his uniform.

“So…Would you believe me if I said that I’m not from this world? Or universe, probably.” Nyx began. “And that I had died, then woken up in that cell, and then a few minutes later you and your guards showed up.”

The Emperor’s eyebrows creased in thought, before he nodded slowly. “The ways of the Divines are mysterious indeed. But you are here, as I have foreseen. Your origins, or your past deeds, do not concern me.”

“I’ve already lived through this!” Nyx blurted out, before he realised that probably wouldn’t make sense without some level of explanation. “I mean, the events leading up to my death, are startlingly similar to what’s happening right now!”

He agitatedly twisted one of his braids in his free hand, decidedly not looking in the direction of the Emperor.

“You are afraid.” Nyx snapped around to stare at the other man.

“I-“

“Even though we have only just met, and yet you still care enough to fear the consequences my death will bring.”

“I just. Don’t want to fail to protect another person. I don’t want your guards, your Blades, to also fail to protect someone they swore to keep safe.” Nyx muttered.

“Oh.” The Emperor sighed, and briefly closed his eyes. There was a sudden presence in the room, ever so slight and yet Nyx could sense it, almost vibrating through the vein-like scars on his arm, the feeling similar to the rush of power that he had felt when confronting the old Kings of Lucis when he had put on the Ring.

The Emperor opened his eyes once again as the moment passed, and looked straight at Nyx, his gaze this time almost as piercing as Regis’ had been when he had spoken up for Nyx in front of the old Kings.

“Your kindness, and dedication, is a gift in these dark times. I am honoured to have met you, Nyx Ulric, and to have been granted the knowledge of the weight you bore before you were brought here. I regret the fate that has been passed onto you, so soon after your sacrifice in your old world, but, I have faith that you will not only face it, but also surpass the expectations laid upon you by the Gods. After all, this new life you have gained will not be without its blessings.”

“Wait, what do you mean-“

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a now-familiar flare of red magic, and broke off as he spun around to meet the assassin, the enemy’s mace rattling against the blade he just managed to bring up in time. The two traded blows furiously, moving across the room as Nyx attempted to use his free arm to gesture or herd the Emperor back away from danger.

Nyx hissed in pain as the mace briefly slid past his guard, the sharp edges of the weapon slicing sharp lines through the side of his uniform. The enchantments that had once been imbued into the fabric clearly had not survived his appearance in this world, though that was not surprising, given how they had hinged on Lucis Caelum magic anyways. He stumbled back a few steps from the impact, and ducked as the mace came down at his head once again. This assassin was clearly a cut above the others they had encountered earlier, Nyx thought, briefly eyeing the cracked stone where the mace had hit.

The assassin cackled, and moved to attack again, when Nyx heard the sound of stone grinding against stone. He looked around for the source of the noise, and spotted, in that half-second, a figure in red robes, wearing an even-more ornate set of black armour, a wickedly-long dagger in his hand. And that figure was stepping out of a passage that had just opened up, right next to where the Emperor was standing.

Instinctively, he flung his sword at the assassin, bracing himself for the pulling sensation of a warp. And then he remembered.

He no longer had the ability to warp.

“Shit!” He yelled, now scrambling under the first assassin as he tried to reach the new assassin in time, trying to reach the Emperor before– and why was he just standing there?! – the new assassin struck.

His fingers had just skimmed the edges of the hilt of his sword, other hand outstretched to try and push the Emperor or the assassin out of the way, when he saw the knife sink into the Emperor’s heart.

He watched as the Emperor toppled to the ground, the assassin’s knife dripping blood onto the stones. He heard, more than saw, as one of the guards appeared in the doorway and gave an anguished cry.

And then the assassins were attacking them again, and he had no time to further process the situation as he and the guard – Baurus – ended up fighting back-to-back, a grieving desperation in Baurus’ attacks as together, they managed to kill those last two assassins.

There was silence, finally, as the last assassin slowly bled out on the ground, and Nyx watched with blurry eyes as Baurus fell to his knees next to the corpse of his Emperor.

[jurassicparkpodcast]

Setting Sail Into Dangerous Waters with Camp Cretaceous Season Four | Where Will They Go?

At the end of Season Three of Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous, the camp fam set sail into the vast unknown in search of rescue from Isla Nublar and the fallen Jurassic World theme park. With only a compass to lead the way and Kenji at the helm, the six kids set out to rescue themselves with a ship left behind by Season Two's villains, Mitch and Tiff. Nothing yet has been revealed about where these kids will call their next port, but I'm sure they are intent on making it to mainland Costa Rica... but will they actually make it there? There are a lot of variables in the mix, so let's take a look at some of the routes our camp fam may take on the way home.

Costa Rica

Isla Nublar lies 120 miles West of the mainland, so with enough luck and fuel, the kids of Camp Cretaceous certainly hope to make it to Costa Rica. It's their salvation. In the canonical timeline of Jurassic World, the campers set off of Nublar about six months after the events of Jurassic World, which means the hangar at the end of the 2015 film would no longer be ground zero for rescue operations. After six months of no rescue, it seems as though no one is looking for the lost children anymore. Hopefully they can find safety with the authorities or someone that may have heard about the missing kids from the Jurassic World incident. This outcome is their safest sanctuary. It's the ultimate goal.

There is one issue with this goal - what is on the boat? We certainly heard what seems to be a dinosaur within the locked cabin, so our campers could be responsible for a dinosaur loose in Costa Rica. It could make for an interesting tie to the original Jurassic Park novel with loads of reports of small lizards harming people around the coast. Ultimately, would one dino lost on the coast of Costa Rica be all that interesting? Depending on what the dino is, it could be interesting... but I think there are better alternatives.

Back to Nublar

This option is certainly the least interesting of the bunch. With the kids setting out for a hopeful future, having them backtrack to Isla Nublar would be a huge step backwards for the show. We've already spent three seasons trying to escape the island, so setting course for somewhere new is the best option. Of course there are still plenty of unexplored sections of the island, but it feels like it's time for a change of scenery.

The Mosasaurus

At this point in the franchise timeline, the events at the beginning of Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom have occurred, which means that the Mosasaurus has escaped into open water. Our camp fam set out on the open seas, hoping to head to safety, but what if something got in their way? It's highly possibly that along their trip towards the mainland, they encounter the Mosasaurus. This outcome could be utterly dire for our campers, as the Mosasaurus outsizes their yacht and could capsize them in an instant. While nothing too drastic will happen to our core group, I wonder if this encounter sets them off-course... potentially to another island.

Isla Sorna

The campers set sail with hopes of floating eastward towards mainland Costa Rica... but what if they went the wrong way? The Mosasaurus could be the perfect catalyst for them chartering the wrong course, but it's already been hinted at that they could easily lose their way. During Season Three, Kenji couldn’t figure out how to use the compass that they picked up from his dad's penthouse, so who's to say he won't get turned around again. Isla Sorna is one island in the Five Deaths island chain, 87 miles West of Isla Nublar - 207 Miles West of Costa Rica. If they hit Sorna, they are heading in the wrong direction. The wrong direction for the kids, could be the correct direction for the show. Let's consider all Isla Sorna has to offer.

The island originally seen in The Lost World: Jurassic Park and further in Jurassic Park III could be the answer many secrets this franchise holds. It's an island shrouded in mystery and potentially even lies. As we've been told, Isla Sorna is supposedly vacant. The DPG website repeatedly mentions the animals being shipped from Sorna to Nublar to populate Jurassic World as the park was building up operations, but also for the well-being of the creatures on an ever growing mysterious island. Did they move all the animals? That's to be foreseen, but at this point it seems unlikely.

One animal that could still be roaming Isla Sorna is the formidable Spinosaurus. The Spinosaurus could hold the key to the origin of hybrid dinosaur testing, giving the kids something to solve. The Spino's story was unresolved in Jurassic Park III, so it would be welcoming to see what happened after Paul Kirby sent a flare hurdling towards the vicious creature, setting the lagoon ablaze. According to the DPG, the dinosaur could be the reason for decreasing population and well being of other species throughout the island, so is it alone or does it have any island-mates?

There's also the possibility of animals lurking around old research facilities or creating nests near the coast lines - the Velociraptors of Isla Sorna. We have seen three variations of Velociraptor on the island - the male Tiger raptors of The Lost World and the white females and quilled males of Jurassic Park III. It seems doubtful that these variants would have been killed off by the Spinosaurus or shipped to Isla Nublar for the park opening, so the opportunity still exists for the raptors to be alive on the island. It would be wonderful if the campers stumbled upon the answers regarding why there are so many variants of raptor.

One problem with heading to Isla Sorna is how similar it looks to Isla Nublar now. The campers lived for months at their fallen Camp Cretaceous tree house, which was set among Redwood style trees, a look synonymous with Isla Sorna. At this point, how would Dreamworks Animation distinguish these two islands, as to make it seem like they are not just back on Nublar?

Shipmates

Let's further consider the Camp Cretaceous crew's current situation with a stowaway on board. It sounds like a dinosaur locked in the onboard cabin and I've heard speculation on everything from a young Scorpios, to a Troodon, a Baryonyx and Hap, the mercenary from Season two. I do like to consider the dino on board to be a baby Velociraptor bred directly from Velociraptor Blue due to parthenogenesis. It's been alluded to in the Jurassic World Aftermath VR game that Blue may have been able to reproduce asexually, so this could be a fun way to further that concept see in Jurassic Park and in Season Three of Camp Cretaceous with the second Scorpios Rex. Anyway, that's all besides the point, because a dinosaur is on this boat and it will have consequences.

Does the dinosaur on board force them to turn back to Nublar? Will it sidetrack them to a different island? Does it somehow signal the Mosasaurus toward their yacht? Will this dino cause mischief on the mainland? Pretty much all options are on the table when you have a dinosaur on board, but ultimately I hope it becomes the next Bumpy. Season three seemingly gave us a send-off for our favorite young Ankylosaurus (until the future, we hope), so we could use another fun dino side-kick. If it's a sweet young dinosaur, then maybe our camper friends won't get too sidetracked, but will still need to deal with the consequences once their arrive at their final destination.

Mantah Corp

Our final option sends the campers directly into the hands of the enemy. Mantah Corp have been on the peripherals of the Camp Cretaceous story from the beginning. We've seen their drone pop up in season one and in season three, plus we've heard their stories and connections. So when do we actually see Mantah Corp play a larger role? From what has been relayed within the series, it sounds like Mantah Corp has been in the shadows from the very beginning - even before Jurassic Park. Mantah Corp has wanted dinosaurs since before Wu made the first cloned creature, so we know they are dead-set on getting the DNA or better yet, some dinosaurs themselves.

From the previously outlined concepts, there could be a few results here for Mantah Corp. If our camp fam does encounter a Mosasaurus in the ocean and needs rescue, who better than Mantah Corp? There's also the chance of Mantah Corp setting up shop at a nearby island - Isla Sorna anyone? The team from Mantah Corp has to be close to Nublar, as they sent drones on recon missions to grab data and spy on the dinosaur activity. Sorna would give them a great base of operations. Let's say that Mantah Corp doesn't have the means currently to transport big dinosaurs off the islands, but they could have the capability of smuggling something small, a baby perhaps? I think Mantah Corp has to play a big role in Season four and I'd love to see it all play out on Isla Sorna.

What do you think? Are there any other alternatives that interest you? The kids from Camp Cretaceous certainly will have an adventure ahead of them in Season Four and I can't wait to see how it all plays out. I'd love to hear from you in the comments below.

Written by: Brad Jost

[mindmeltonabun-blog]

Tale of the Nine Tailed: More Analysis and Theories (Ep 9 & 10)

If you haven't done so already, I would suggest that you read all of my other TOTNT posts before continuing to read this post because otherwise you might find yourself lost or confused as to what I’m talking about. For the most part, the majority of the theories that I have proposed here have came true which is great! However, there were a few theories, most notably my zombie theory that didn’t quite come true. Although I wouldn’t be surprised that if in the end we found out that the Imoogi had a hand in creating those zombies. 

Now this post may leave you in a state of exhaustion upon reading it, but I can guarantee you that it will be well worth your time at the end of it ! Additionally, I would like to apologize in advance if I haven't posted my theories or analyses right away, but I’ve been preoccupied with school work as well as tirelessly watching the US election. Needless to say, it’s been a very long week for me! I do want to write well thought out posts for you all, but at the same time I hope you guys will understand that these theoretical and analytical posts do require a great deal of time and extensive research. Anyways with that being said, let’s get to theorizing and analyzing the clues of which we were given in Ep 9 and Ep 10!

What The Imoogi Wants 

Initially, I had strongly believed that the Imoogi was after Lee Yeon’s fox bead because it was a form of “Yeouiju” which could’ve helped it become a celestial dragon. There are of course other ways an Imoogi could be a celestial dragon: 

1) Fox Bead/Yeouiju

2) Sacrificial Virgin Bride

3) Living to be 1000 years old

It should be noted that I am still somewhat uncertain whether in the context of TOTNT, an Imoogi would need to fulfill all three requirements to become a celestial dragon. In Korean mythology, it is heavily implied that the Imoogi only needs one of the three. Furthermore, in most of the popular myths about the Imoogi, it mainly seeks to obtain the fox bead/yeouiju. Thus, this is why I had initially concluded that the Imoogi in TOTNT was solely after Lee Yeon’s fox bead/Yeouiju and not anything else. However since TOTNT is an adaption of many popular Korean folklore, I think the writer is trying to incorporate all three requirements in their own unique way. Meaning that they are trying to add their own dramatic flair or twist to it. Now I’ve already discussed in great detail about the first two ways so now I want to focus on how I think the writer is trying to incorporate the requirement of living to be 1000 years.

1000 Years + More on Bok Gil/Imoogi’s Background

First, it is implied that Mountain Spirits are “celestial” animals (i.e bears, foxes, snakes, and tigers). By “celestial” I mean that you have to be at least 1000 years old in order to even be considered for this prestigious position. Therefore, at the time when Ah Eum had met Lee Yeon, he had just been recently appointed to that position. In the meanwhile, we as the viewers aren’t given any additional information as to what Lee Yeon had been doing up to that point. One thing is for sure, Lee Yeon must have been a real arrogant and egotistical ass. There I said it ! I mean just look how he behaved when he first met Ah Eum and Lee Rang! However, I think that by meeting Ah Eum and Lee Rang, they brought out Lee Yeon’s more compassionate side.

So you’re probably wondering well what the hell does this have anything to do with the Bok Gil/Imoogi? Well I’m getting to that! If you had remembered, I had theorized that Lee Yeon may have been the reason why Bok Gil committed suicide. Given Lee Yeon’s arrogant pretentious nature, I could definitely see Lee Yeon being completely unaware that his words and actions could’ve deeply affected others. One of those people was Bok Gil/Imoogi. 

I believe that Bok Gil/Imoogi is around or exactly the same age as Lee Yeon.  Bok Gil had probably died some time during the Goryeo or Joseon dynasty. What makes me believe this? Well just look at the kind of shoes Taluipa was holding. Those shoes are “Kkotsin” which were typically worn by men during those dynasties. Coincidentally, around the same time Bok Gil had died, Lee Yeon was appointed to the Mountain Spirit position. It raises the question, did Bok Gil kill himself before he was able to reach the “celestial” age of 1000 years old? I think so. Thus, he was unable to meet one of the requirements to become a Mountain Spirit. 

Collectively, I think Bok Gil’s backstory will have a lot to do with our understanding of the Imoogi’s true motivations . For the Imoogi, it’s not purely about fulfilling the requirements of becoming celestial dragon, but it’s more about personally getting revenge on the person who took away his chance of ever becoming a Mountain Spirit in the first place. If you think about, you didn’t see him trying to go after Sato or any of the other Mountain Spirits or any other Gumiho for that matter. He specifically zeroed in on Lee Yeon.

Maybe the only wrongdoing that Lee Yeon may have committed towards the Imoogi was that he simply existed. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised that Bok Gil’s death and his hatred for Lee Yeon had all stemmed from a simple misunderstanding because let’s be real here, one of the central themes in TOTNT is misunderstandings. 

Imoogis are typically seen as auspicious creatures in Korean folklore. Meaning that they are typically viewed as a good omen. Therefore, I think the Imoogi/Bok Gil was a good person, but because of his jealousy of Lee Yeon, he was driven towards depression and suicide. Upon coming back to life, instead of sadness, he was filled with anger and the need for revenge. I mean it’s easier to be angry than sad right?

Additionally, other theories I have for Bok Gil is that maybe his mother had foreseen he would meet the love of his life (Ah Eum) once he became the Mountain Spirit. However, this all changed when whoever decided that position belonged to Lee Yeon instead. If you think about it, Taluipa’s visions of the future are purely subjective just like Alice’s visions from Twilight. Meaning that the future is subjective because it is based on a person’s decision which can readily change.

Imoogi Changes His Decision of What He Wants

In the past, the Imoogi had wanted Lee Yeon’s heart. You might ask well what did the Imoogi mean by Lee Yeon’s heart? Did he mean his literal or figurative heart? The Imoogi could have meant his literal heart, but I think he meant it in a figurative sense. I think the Imoogi probably meant Lee Yeon’s fox bead which in traditional Korean folklore is the main power source/life force of a Gumiho, but I cannot say this with 100% certainty because TOTNT is after an adaption of many Korean folklore. 

Now in the present, the Imoogi changed his mind of what he wanted from Lee Yeon. Why? Because he already knew that the fox bead has disappeared into the hands of the fortune teller. The Imoogi with his great powers could’ve easily gone after the fortune teller to retrieve it had this been his main objective. The Imoogi’s main objective isn’t to become a celestial dragon. Rather, it’s to get revenge on Lee Yeon whom he believed had stolen the life he was meant to have. The Imoogi had wanted Lee Yeon to suffer just as he had when he was alive as Bok Gil. He wanted Lee Yeon to feel the exact same pain of having to lose everything most precious to him. Man the Imoogi/Bok Gil is so immature! Taluipa, you need to discipline/talk with your son !

Is Taluipa a Snake/Dragon?

Other things I think would be interesting to know is what kind of species Bok Gil was. As mentioned earlier, Taluipa’s character is based off of Samsin Halmoni. In both Chinese and Korean folklore, Samsin Halmoni and Goddess Mago have been viewed as being the same. Mago was described as having long birdlike/clawlike finger nails. Furthermore, the Goddess Mago was associated with snakes, caves, and the “elixir of life”. See where I’m going yet?

Although it has not been revealed yet, I think that underneath Taluipa’s human skin, she is a snake/dragon. Therefore, this would also make Bok Gil a snake just like his mother. However, I am still unsure as to what kind of animal Taluipa’s husband is because as far as we know, he is just a regular human with immortality that was granted to him by Taluipa. If that is the case, would Bok Gil have been only half snake? 

Does Taluipa Realize The Imoogi is Her Son?

I don’t think Taluipa has realized that the Imoogi is her son yet. If you remembered, I had said Bok Gil’s soul was in limbo. Therefore, when his soul traveled back into the land of the living, it had probably randomly jumped into whoever’s dead body was in that cave, thus this would make him unrecognizable even to his own mother. 

Other things to note is that just as there is many foxes in the TOTNT, it should be assumed that there are also many snakes/Imoogis too. So Taluipa might not have realized that this one particular Imoogi was actually her son. 

I think also that the Imoogi has the ability to cloud Taluipa’s psychic powers of clairvoyance. The decisions we make determines the kind of future we will have. And where exactly are decisions made? In our minds. We obviously know that the Imoogi has the psychic power to read others’ minds, but I think he also has powers that can block others from reading his. Without being able to see the Imoogi’s decisions which are made mentally, Taluipa cannot foresee what he will do next, only what he is doing presently. It’s about to be mother and son psychic power showdown ! Ouch, my brain hurts just thinking about that !

Resolving the Entangled Mess

In some of my previous posts I had suggested that Lee Rang will be the one that tragically dies. At the same time, I did leave room for the possibility of him having a happy ending through means of reincarnation. In this week’s episode, we were given another possibility of how Lee Rang might achieve a happy ending for himself such as untangling the mess.

Well what is this mess? I’m so glad you asked! Below is a chart that I drew as a visual aid to help you all understand the mess that currently exists in the world of TOTNT. I must say the mess in TOTNT is almost as messy as the US elections right now! 

As you can see from my chart, the Imoogi has gotten Lee Yeon cornered in a sort of checkmate move. To win the Imoogi’s game, one must find a way to resolve the following two conflicts: 

1) Lee Rang’s deal with the CEO

2) Imoogi piece inside Ji Ah

In doing so, one will then be able to remove the Imoogi completely!

Lee Rang’s Deal w/ The CEO

I had mentioned in a previous post that another common theme in TOTNT is deals/contracts. In ep 10, Taluipa’s husband advised to Lee Rang that he should try to think of a way to get around his contract with the CEO aka find a loophole.

What does “Quid Pro Quo” mean? It means that an item or service has been traded in return for something of equal value. The CEO had saved Lee Rang’s life and in return Lee Rang must comply with returning the a favor of equal value when asked. The favor the CEO asked Lee Rang was to bring Lee Yeon which essentially is a favor of equal value (a life for a life). Remember that if you choose not to comply, the power of the contract will force you to complete the favor anyway. However like with any deal, there is always a loophole. This loophole exists in the definition of Quid Pro Quo...of equal value.

Let’s look back to that chart that I drew earlier. What is the most precious thing to the CEO and is basically considered his life? THE CHERRY TREE! Without this tree, the CEO cannot survive. The CEO knew Lee Rang was being swayed by his brother as well as Lee Rang having knowledge of what his greatest weakness was. So then the CEO took precautions to ensure his greatest weakness could never be used against him by having the cherry tree be wheeled away to a safer location.

In order to avoid bringing/killing Lee Yeon, Lee Rang must find something of equal value to give back to the CEO to repay his debt. And that something of equal value is that damn cherry tree! Go Go Lee Rang! Find that cherry tree, return it to the CEO, and afterwards when the contractual rings break....KILL THE CEO ! 

While this does ensure the death of the CEO and the end of the contract between the CEO and Lee Rang, it does not ensure Lee Rang will survive in the long term. Meaning, Lee Rang cannot survive without the cherry tree either unless there is another means of extending his life (maybe elixir of life?). I do wonder what the typical lifespan of a half fox is. Things are implied, but yet there is no definitive answer as exactly how long a half fox can live. It also raises another question, can a half fox live forever provided that it does not get fatally injured? 

Imoogi Piece Inside of Ji Ah

Now onto resolving the 2nd conflict which is how to remove the Imoogi piece inside of Ji Ah. Well I think it can go two ways:

1) Lee Yeon strikes up a deal with the Imoogi:

Lee Yeon will let the Imoogi take his body only if Imoogi would agree to removing the piece of himself that is inside Ji Ah. Now here’s the part where both Ji Ah and Lee Yeon could work together to stop the Imoogi once and for all. Remember that Lee Yeon is susceptible to the effects of evening primrose so when the Imoogi enters Lee Yeon’s body, it will also share the same vulnerability. Ji Ah could trap the Imoogi/Lee Yeon with evening primrose and then use her Shaman powers to remove the Imoogi. After all, one of the powers of a shaman is the ability to excise evil spirits!

2) Taluipa provides Lee Yeon with the elixir of life or turns him human

I will write out more of this theory later, but ngl guys I’m exhausted! Sorry!

Ji Ah = Supernatural Being=Shaman Goddess

In Ep 10, the writer is once again dropping clues like its freaking Christmas that Ji Ah is some sort of supernatural being. We got her female coworker asking if Ji Ah is even human. No she’s not human!! Then we saw how the Imoogi could read everyone else’s mind except for Ji Ah’s. Why? It’s the same reason why Lee Yeon couldn’t hypnotize Ji Ah. It’s because Ji Ah is a supernatural being (shaman goddess) that has hidden powers that makes her immune to powers of other supernatural creatures. 

If you don’t still get it by now, I’ll give you this example: Edward Cullen and Bella. If you remember from Twilight, Edward Cullen could read everyone else’s mind except for Bella’s. Why? Because Bella had that special shield power which was later revealed once she became a vampire. 

Therefore, just like Bella, I think Ji Ah has a bunch of special shaman powers that can be unlocked somehow. Don’t ask me how right now, my brain is struggling to write this sentence as we speak. 

Last Remarks

Okay peeps, I struggled hard to try and write this. I am literally exhausted after staying up super late and waking super early to watch the US election results all week as well as doing my school work. So now I want to relax and celebrate the win of my President Elected, Mr. Joe Biden! I may or not write a separate post on what I think will happen in Ep 11. So stay tune! 

P.S: If there are any other questions about TOTNT that I did not address, please feel free to leave a comment and I will do my best to try and provide you with an answer!

[zktop10]

Author Feature: duCOQUELICOT

Ok, so I am a fan of our next featured author and I am so thrilled to have them on my blog! Welcome duCOQUELICOT

Please go check out the stories and make sure to leave some love! And as always, share these lists so others can find something new as well!

Title: Gem of the Setting Sun Rated: T Summary: The war might be over, but that's just the beginning of a whole new era of problems. The Gaang find themselves amidst the struggles of rebuilding the world, growing up, coming of age and understanding who they are, now that everything has changed.

When everyone seems to have something to do besides Katara, she sets out to find her own destiny. Zuko, who is trying to change a century of hatred into an era of peace and love, could use the help of a brave waterbender with a heart of gold. Learning about the histories of their respective nations, they discover a threat to the world that is greater than anyone could have foreseen. Also, Zutara.

New (final) chapter: At dawn, Zuko and Katara find each other again. Score: 7.5 / 10 Rated T WIPs: 1.3 / 10 Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Mutual Pining

Title: One Quiet Night Rated: NR Summary: Prompt #77, where Zuko and Katara swap elements - but I just use it as an excuse to have them talk. Score: 5.8 / 10 Not Rated One Shots: 1.4 / 10 Tags: One Shot, Element Swap

Title: there are roads left in both of our shoes Rated: G Summary: In the Spirit World, Yue learns about the fate of her friends before they know it themselves. The spirits have their unique way of dealing with the material world and its inhabitants, and one of the most interesting ones is reincarnation. As it turns out, two people she knows have had their paths tied together since the beginning of time. Score: 4.6 / 10 Rated G One Shots: 6.7 / 10 Tags: One Shot, Zutara Week, Series, Soulmates

Title: Zutara Month 2020 Rated: G Summary: A collection of bits and pieces for my 'Gem of the Setting Sun' universe. Jumping back and forward in time, so will contain spoilers, but I guess it's okay because we all want Zutara to happen anyway :). These works will find their way back into the story, one way or another. Score: 4.5 / 10 Rated G Complete: 0.3/ 10 Tags: Zutara Month

Title: counting the ways to fall without landing Rated: G Summary: What if we had gotten more scenes with Zuko and the Gaang before the Comet arrived? Well, this is what that is. A collection of scenes and snippets of everything that happened between "The Western Air Temple" and Zuko's coronation. And maybe something after that, too. Score: 3.5 / 10 Rated G One Shots: 4.9 / 10 Tags: One Shot, Zutara Week, Lost Scene

Title: it rained through the night Rated: G Summary: Katara doesn't even want to talk to that moody, silent kid in her after school art class. But she has no choice, because when they both end up at the wrong place at the wrong time, they'll have to work together to solve the mystery. Score: 3.5 / 10 Rated G One Shots: 4.9 / 10 Tags: One Shot, Alternate Universe, Modern Universe, High School Setting

Title: caught between a rock and a hard place Rated: G Summary: Just when Iroh and Aang reach the belly of the Crystal Catacombs, the earth shatters. Katara and Zuko are cut off from their saviors, and from Azula as well. They'll have to work together to find a way out: is their uneasy, rather shaky alliance able to withstand the problems their journey will throw at them? Score: 3.2 / 10 Rated G One Shots: 4.4 / 10 Tags: Zutara Week, Crystal Catacombs

Title: it keeps raining in your heart Rated: T Summary: The unthinkable has happened. Aang hasn't survived his battle with Phoenix King Ozai, and Zuko and Katara have to flee the Fire Nation palace in a hurry. The world is barren, and the future is uncertain. Will they find the new Avatar before the Fire Nation does? Will they ever be reunited with their friends and family? And what will they do about Azula, whom Zuko, despite everything, couldn't leave behind? Score: 3.2 / 10 Rated T One Shot: 2.3 / 10 Tags: One Shot, Zutara Week, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Lost the War

Title: between your waves Rated: G Summary: Ten years after the comet, Zuko asks Katara to come to the Fire Nation palace. They haven't seen each other in a while, and Katara is nervous. It turns out Zuko has finally gotten a lead on where his mother might be, and wants Katara along for the ride. On the trip, old feelings resurface, and while there are numerous misunderstandings, they are still drawn to each other.

Oneshot/prologue for Zutara Week 2020: Reunion. Score: 2.6 / 10 Rated G One Shot: 3.3 / 10 Tags: One Shot, Zutara Week, Misunderstandings, Awkward Encounters

Title: you're the only thing i've ever truly known Rated: G Summary: After Kanna's death, Zuko stays in the South Pole for a little while to help out his friends. Katara doesn't know how to handle his kindness, but is thankful for it. Together, they reminisce about what life and death means, and Zuko makes a promise to Katara. Score: 2.5 / 10 Rated T One Shot: 3.2 / 10 Tags: Zutara Week, Fluff, Some Angst

[vynnyal]

[Based on this]

jfbdkhfj uhh, this. Well that’s an image, I guess. Um. I made it after writing this post to justify posting it, but I think that it only made it worse,,,, so I guess its perfect.

Anyways. I think abt pk’s future sight a lot.

At face value it seems to be a simple cliché - a character ironically causes their ultimate fate in their attempts to avoid or change it. But if that’s the case, it calls into question just how a wyrm’s foresight works and pk’s personal experience with it in the past.

It could be that he merely never had a prophecy before, or that he has and never intervened, thus not learning about the futility of it. More interestingly, it could be that the future he foresaw was just impossible for him to ignore despite his experiences, causing him to do anything in his power to change it. Of course, you then gotta wonder why and how he was so motivated if, deep down, he already knew it was pointless.

On the other side, in a funny, tragic sort of way, it could be that he did actually change the story’s events with his actions… meaning it was entirely his fault things turned out the way it did, and no amount of tragic irony could be faulted for it. He literally messed up so bad that the future became awful in a new, exciting and exotic way. Good job.

But that’s assuming that his foresight is actually accurate, reliable, and consistent. If not, it could be that he just got a bad feeling or… saw flashes of images of things that could be. He starts to sound a bit paranoid, if he didn’t before. And I’ve always been a fan of the theory, that he was ultimately the perpetrator of the entire conflict between himself and radiance, stemming from his single-minded focus on avoiding whatever future he had foreseen. That one is especially fun when you combine the two theories.

On another note, I find it very interesting that wyrm’s foresight is known by the general populace at all. [jk, i was wrong, read the correction here] I have trouble buying that pk would ever willingly reveal such information, if it’s as powerful (or not) as believed. That implies: 1, this was already common knowledge, and was shared by a different wrym (or someone that they trusted such information with…); 2, pk himself shared this knowledge out of some sort of power move, or because he was forced to; or 3, that pk just straight up fibbed or “stretched the truth” to explain his actions and/or grant himself more power in the eyes of his citizens. The last one is hilarious, especially if it was just a reputation thing, because it would really bring to light how much these all-mighty gods have to rely on their followers, and how important it is to maintain their image. Or uh, maintain their worship, at least.