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cursivebloodlines · 3 months ago

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It didn’t go unnoticed to Aaron, the way Caitlyn never seemed particularly interested in relationships in general. Not because he was interested in her in that way by all means - yeah, she was gorgeous but that didn’t mean he liked her like that. But it was because, believe it or not, he was nosey. And perhaps too curious, but that was only because he liked getting to the bottom of anything. That didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a beautiful lady without being romantically interested in them! Even though he was doing much more than that with them here today, giving his family the performance of his life. (On second thought, why didn’t he just go into acting?) That was something he’d come accustomed to over the years. Performing to overcompensate for being the black sheep of the family. There was no one he would have rather enlisted in this debacle, but he felt guilty for even dragging her into his mess. Aaron had been hesitant to even ask Caitlyn, solely for that reason. After all, he had spent so much time trying to get claw his way out and away from them. But then, as one tends to with families, sometimes he had no choice but to show his face. If it was to keep the peace, to keep their mouths shut for however long it would be after this event, then so be it. It was for the greater good. Or that’s what he tried to tell himself.

“Thankfully for me I didn’t have to come out of her vagina. Born by C-Section because I was causing trouble before I got here,” Aaron scoffed, a faint snicker escaping his lips. “Was probably labeled ‘the problem child’ since then..” It used to bother him, why he was always treated so unfairly in comparison to his brother. The wounds were deeper than he would ever care to admit, the scars hidden underneath layers and layers of humour and meaningless jokes. “And I’ll show some mercy when she does the same - I’ve been waiting a bit too long,” he grumbled under his breath, eager to wedge in the last word as he gave her a gentle nudge. The stupid grin plastered all over his face nevertheless. Make a joke of it all, that was his basic, standard plan. Laugh it all off, like nothing could bother him. He was so grateful to have someone by his side. Someone who actually knew Aaron, the real version of himself for all his quirks and flaws. That was the singular thing he shared with these people he called loosely ‘family’ - the ability to keep up pretences, not to let others see the cracks and frayed edges underlining the dynamics and all the other problems beneath.

“Doesn’t just sound like an idiot. He is an idiot,” Aaron corrected with a scoff. Of course, it wasn’t her fault he was feeling so antsy. His family did that to him. And he hoped Caitlyn didn’t take offense to his corrections; but then again, he didn’t really think too deeply into it. After all, she surely had put up worse from him. It went far beyond sibling rivalry. A culmination of so many years he spent in his shadow, sure. And it should have been enough, that Justin was the favoured son; the adored son, the golden kid, the successful adult. It was never enough for the elder sibling. If Aaron had so much as one ounce of something to be happy about, he’d find a way to take it away from him. Fed lies, got him into trouble, fucked up his relationships, the list goes on. Usually if it happened to come up in conversation - something that happened so rarely - he sounded like he was exaggerating, or making a big deal out of seemingly nothing. Hadn’t he let his family control him enough before he broke free? That was precisely why he distanced himself from them, became his own individual without letting them dictate his life or self worth. His posture loosened slightly the more he was around Cait though, she always knew what to say and he couldn’t argue with her, not with the determination in her voice. A smile crept on to his lips, lightly nudging her side. “Hey, enough with the pity compliments,” he teased, knowing full well it wasn’t out of pity. But what who would he be without the stupid jests? “You’re right, but as dad and everyone likes to remind me - my father takes credit for getting me the job, whereas Justin had to work for it and got it himself.” It was the short version of it, anyway. Aaron rolled his eyes at the thought. “‘Cause I ‘can’t do anything for myself’ apparently. Whatever.” Just brush it off, like always. Sure, there might have been an element of truth in it. But didn’t the fact he stayed in the job and worked his way up mean anything? The fact he was still here? Apparently not.

Laughter bubbled in Aaron’s chest when Caitlyn chastised him for his feeble attempts to escape this event, unable to help the stupid grin etched across his face with so many idiotic comebacks from the tip of his tongue. He glanced at her, feeling a little lighter despite the looming presence of his family. "Table dancing, huh? Now, that’s something I’d pay to see,” he teased, grateful for the way she always seemed to cut through his tension. "And yeah, I’m driving, but I guess I could be convinced to have a drink or two. For the nerves, you know? Besides, we could always catch a ride back and split the fare." He smirked, already knowing that one drink wouldn’t be enough to get through this night.

A part of him wanted to bask in the warmth of her hands, the way her hand fit so naturally in his as if it was always meant to be there, the softness of her skin. But that wasn’t what this was, he reminded himself. They were friends, partners, and everything happening now was just an act for his family’s benefit. Still, the way his thumb absentmindedly grazed over her knuckles as they walked toward the bar made it hard to separate the pretend from…well. There was no ‘whatever this was’. It was pretend, all of it. That’s what he reminded himself. As they reached the bar, Aaron took a deep breath, preparing himself for the next round of family chaos. "So, what’ll it be? Something strong, I’m guessing?" He gave her a playful wink, already waving down the bartender for the occasion.

She knew that Aaron had always had a certain charm with the female sex. It was impossible not to notice that women used to be more than attracted to him and particularly delighted when Aaron returned a quarter of the attention that many of them gave him. Caitlyn partly understood the madness and the flirty eyes around him, Aaron was objectively handsome, even though she didn't think of him that way, it wasn't hard to see that he corresponded to certain beauty standards. There was something else tho, because Aaron used to have girls around his finger. He was funny too and quite charming overall. He was a good match for any girl who wanted to be with him. Caitlyn had always assumed that he was pretty discreet about who he brought home, but there was no way Aaron was out of options. If he wasn't with anyone it was by choice, not because he didn't have girls around him willing to be with him.

"Don't be that mean to her, that woman gave birth to you" Caitlyn rolled her eyes before giving him a devilish smile "And with that huge head you have I bet it hurt, show some mercy" She sneered with all the intention of remove a bit of the tension that her partner had. She understood Aaron was nervous about being with his family so Caitlyn was making an effort to be nice. If he said his family was shit then she was on his side. It didn't matter if his family was adorable and cordial with her, if Aaron said they were an incarnation of the devil then she had no reason not to believe him. Part of her was also nervous about his family liking her, even though the main reason she was there was to support Aaron, Caitlyn didn't want to make things worse for him. With any luck, she would leave a good impression on his family. At least the next time he came, his family would be a little happier with him? It wasn't hard to see that Aaron's mother was somewhat disassociated from her son, she hadn't even tried to engage him in a longer conversation. Though Caitlyn gave her the benefit of the doubt, if Aaron said his family sucked, then his family sucked.

"Well, your brother sounds like an idiot" Caitlyn was also the youngest daughter so if Aaron had jealous youngest syndrome because his older brother was more successful, she would know. There seemed to be something else. She felt that his brother was just as much of an idiot as Aaron said he was. He sounded pretty bitter whenever he talked about his brother so he must had a reason for that. Caitlyn was not an example of the relationship between siblings because she had not spoken to hers for years and even before that their relationship had not been good either "You clearly should be the favorite son in any case, please you catch bad guys for living and technically have a badass job, what does your brother do? sit at an office all day? Pretty original" She snorted and let out a laugh. With any luck, the antics would help improve Aaron's mood. Caitlyn couldn't understand how some parents could have favorite children. Did they want to cause trauma to his children when they were adults? If a son knew already that he was not the favorite of any of his parents, those parents had failed catastrophically.

"Stop trying to make me run away just so you can run away with me and have an excuse, we're here, I'm staying, end of discussion" She sentenced before rolling her eyes. After all, he was the one who asked her to come with him. Caitlyn was there because he had asked her to but Aaron was being so negative that he seemed like he didn't want her there. She thought he was probably nervous so she didn't want to make too much of his complaints "Are you the one driving? Cause I can always get drunk enough to you end up dancing on a table if you want, so you should never have to show your face around here again" Although she wasn't planning on dancing on any table, Caitlyn did need a drink to loosen up a bit and be able to think about something other than his family. Maybe they could have some fun apart from his family, have a good time, and then come home. She gave him a smirk and entwined her hands with his. "Lead the way then." The way her hand felt wrapped around his was… different. Something wasn't right. There wasn't necessarily something wrong but she also wasn't supposed to be thinking about how warm his hand felt against hers. It felt… good. Cozy. Their hands fit together almost as if they were always supposed to be together all time long. Caitlyn didn't like thinking like that about his partner's hands but it was almost as if all that was real, which it wasn't. It couldn't be for so many reasons.

#i can't apologise enough for how long this has taken me to throw at you! and sorry if it's garbage am feeling so rusty rn dkgajsdgadsg #love you and love them still tho <3 #musebluebird #aaron x caitlyn #aaron x caitlyn ;; 001 #muse ;; aaron carter #aaron carter ;; interactions #musebluebird ;; caitlyn

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middle-earth-mythopoeia · 3 years ago

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Fëanor, jealousy, and fear of replacement

‘The wedding of his father was not pleasing to Fëanor; and he had no great love for Indis, nor for Fingolfin and Finarfin, her sons.’ It always seemed to me that Fëanor’s hostility toward Indis and her sons was, at its root, an expression of his grief for Míriel—not that that justifies it in any way. But if Míriel had not died, Indis wouldn’t have married Finwë, and their sons wouldn’t have existed at all. Fëanor probably saw Indis as replacing Míriel, and so he was afraid that Fingolfin was going to replace him. And Fëanor wouldn’t lay the blame on Finwë; I think his especially strong attachment to his father, his sole living parent, made it difficult for him to see Finwë in anything but a positive light. But I think subconsciously he needed somewhere to lay the blame, and so his grief for Míriel, and the fact that he and Finwë and Míriel could not be a family anymore, turned into animosity towards Indis and her sons.

And I think that Fëanor’s jealousy of Fingolfin made him more susceptible to Melkor’s lies. ‘Whispers came to Fëanor that Fingolfin and his sons were plotting to usurp the leadership of Finwë and of the elder line of Fëanor, and to supplant them by the leave of the Valar...’ He was already afraid of Fingolfin replacing him, so I think it was easy for him to believe that Fingolfin would try to usurp him. It’s no coincidence that Fëanor also uses the word ‘usurp’ when he draws his sword and threatens Fingolfin in Finwë’s hall: ‘Try but once more to usurp my place and the love of my father, and maybe it will rid the Noldor of one who seeks to be the master of thralls.’

It’s easy to understand why Fëanor was jealous of Fingolfin, even if it’s not Fingolfin’s fault. I think it’s harder to understand why Fëanor believes Melkor’s lies about mortal Men, whom he has never met, unless you view it through the lens of his deep-seated fear of being usurped or replaced. ‘...now the whisper went among the Elves that Manwë held them captive, so that Men might come and supplant them in the kingdoms of Middle-earth, for the Valar saw that they might more easily sway this short-lived and weaker race, defrauding the Elves of the inheritance of Ilúvatar.’

Particularly interesting is the use of the word ‘inheritance.’ Fëanor is afraid of having his rights as firstborn taken away: he warns Fingolfin not to usurp his ‘place,’ and in the Shibboleth of Fëanor, he says, ‘We are his [Finwë’s] heirs by right and the elder house.’ He names Maedhros ‘Nelyafinwë’ as an indication of the right of the House of Fëanor to the line of succession, skipping over Fingolfin. Then he comes to see the lands of Middle-earth as the Elves’ ‘inheritance’ from Ilúvatar that he is afraid will be taken away from them by Men.

Melkor’s lies about Fingolfin and Men have too much in common for it not to be deliberate: Fëanor comes to believe that the Valar are using Fingolfin to supplant him, and are using Men to supplant the Elves in Middle-earth. He becomes afraid of Fingolfin taking his place as firstborn, and of Men taking the ‘inheritance’ of the Elves.

And I think Melkor was very calculating in the way that he created these rumors so that Fëanor would fall prey to them. ‘Fiercest burned the new flame of desire for freedom and wider realms in the eager heart of Fëanor; and Melkor laughed in his secrecy, for to that mark his lies had been addressed, hating Fëanor above all, and lusting ever for the Silmarils.’ This leads to me to believe that the parallel between the rumors about Fingolfin and Men was very intentional; Melkor knew that playing upon Fëanor’s fear of replacement would succeed.

It’s just so tragic how this all unfolds, because Melkor was so subtle, and exploited Fëanor’s deep-seated fears and anxieties in such a powerful way, that Fëanor didn’t know he was being influenced. ‘His wrath and his hate were given most to Morgoth, and yet well nigh all that he said came from the very lies of Morgoth himself...’ None of this absolves Fëanor for what he does, of course. I just find it heartbreaking.

#silmarillion #feanor #fingolfin #melkor #my writing

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theprocrastinatingredkitty · 3 years ago

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On Chapter 77

So, Kim’s true nature was to be Elder Yoon’s personal tattletale. I am guessing that Kim truly did try to help Seungho in that moment when he saw little Seungho being kissed by another nobleman (possibly Seungwon because of the lighter blue robe--noticed who also wore a blue robe on season 2?)

I have heard that BD tweeted that the boy above was Seungwon and not Seungho. If that is so, then:

SEE THE SIMILARITY?

The question is, why was Seungho the only one punished and not Seungwon? My guess is this:

Seungwon told Kim and then their father that it was Seungho’s idea for them to kiss. That was why only Seungho got punished. Kim believed it and reinforced to Elder Yoon that it must have been true as he was the one who saw them

THAT IS WHY SEUNGHO RESENTS SEUNGWON SO MUCH.

But then, there is a difference compared to the first picture:

Yoon dad’s robes were gray and not dark green (or blue), and I am convinced that the picture with Yoon in the gray robes was the day that Seungho’s topknot had been cut off after the rape in the study room. This was so that Yoon dad could show his now favored Seungwon the consequence of his older brother’s audacious actions. IT WAS TO KEEP SEUNGWON IN LINE.

Notice that Seungho still had hair on the mat beating in c77:

In this case, Seungwon now won the favor of the father as Seungho probably told his dad that Seungho had done it all as an experiment of sorts, probably to try out something they had seen from a picture book

Seungwon’s words are part truth, as shown here, where Seungho seems to be the one egging his brother on to do something akin to kissing. Note the reddened cheeks of the brother compared to Seungho’s face. But Seungwon should know well enough that it was wrong in the first place, so why did he follow his older brother?

In my opinion, Seungwon is also a closet homosexual as well but didn’t expose himself since that day they were discovered in fear of facing his father’s wrath as well. He remained silent and pointed the finger at his brother, telling everyone that it was his fault alone. And that is why Seungho’s insides lurch and he felt angry at the injustice he had solely received. In his mind, Seungwon should have had his fair share of the beating as well as Seungwon had agreed to it, but only Seungho took the fall

Also, Kim. UGH. I knew that guy was poison.

Initially, Kim probably did have in mind to help them both, but then Seungwon beat his brother to it and Kim believed Seungwon’s words that he was innocent, that was why Kim solely blamed Seungho in front of the shed

So now it became Kim’s mission to “treat” the wayward young master through medicine, he was truly trying to help at first to me. But then the beating happened, and he saw how merciless Elder Yoon could be towards his son. Everything that happened was a result of his tattling to the master. If Kim had not done anything at all, then Seungho would not have been into the man he was today. Sure, Seungho would remain a flirt, but maybe only that, and he would probably remain flirty to noblemen but would not pursue such sexual acts, as he was a pure boy as observed by the doctor on first meeting Seungho

Since Father Yoon had shamed his son and branded him a disgrace to the family, probably repeated such words to him every single day when he sees his son’s face, Seungho then made these accusations true despite the claim being false at first. It is a testament to his words to Jihwa back in S1:

“IF THE FATHER BELIEVES ME AS SUCH, THEN I WILL TURN INTO THE BEING HE SEES ME TO BE.” These words probably became his motto in life since then, and as such, why he disregarded his name and reputation. He became numb to accusations as his father had already scarred him beyond repair. Even if he tells them the truth, no one will believe him, even those he deemed as the ones closest to him

If a mere servant didn’t believe in the words of this young master, then he will turn those lies into truths. And thus, Seungho became the wildest and most shameless sodomite of the region, as what his father had branded him as.

This was why Seungho got angry at Na-Kyum in the shed. In his mind, he had been lied to and betrayed the one he deemed closest to him. This is why Seungho came to loathe lies and traitors

#potn #painter of the night #yahwacheop #manhwa analysis #potn analysis #yahwacheop analysis #painter of the night analysis

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unserenedreaming · 6 months ago

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Imagine this. You are a 9 year old child. You live in a position of relative power: your father is the ruler of the region you live in, meaning you grew up in comfort and safety. Your own power is restricted however on account of your sex. As a girl, you are restricted in what you get to do, and how you are allowed to act. Acting in a way that doesn't uphold the patriarchy gets you in trouble. You feel like an outsider because you want to do things that don't fit into the mold of a lady, unlike all the women around you. Your father loves you and wants the best for you, but even he will likely expect you to conform. There is only one person in the entire world that you feel understands you and loves you for who you are, faults and all. You then are separated from this one person, perhaps forever, and feel utterly alone, even when surrounded by family. The only thing on the planet you feel still understands you is your pet.

Then imagine if you made a friend, one friend who you actually got along with and could have fun with and that friend died violently and the ones who ordered his death and carried it out faced no consequences. You blame others and you blame yourself. How would you feel on top of knowing that they died, that they died in a horrific, though not necessarily true way? In Ned's POV he saw Mycah's corpse: he was cut almost in half from shoulder to waist. Camp gossip likely went around, making his death more and more gruesome, as is the way of the world. Imagine you, a 9 year old kid, here from your elder sister's best friend/most loyal lowerborn lackey that your friend's death, which you feel guilt for even though you SHOUD NOT, is the most horrible thing you've ever heard? Can you imagine that shit?

These are your words: "Arya likes to pick class and class structure up and put it down when it suits her every time she has the chance. She’s pleased to play with Mycah, but puts him in situations that his relatively low rank make dangerous for him." To me, it sounds like you're putting the entirety of Mycah's death on a child. I wasn't aware Arya ran him down and cut him in half, but maybe I missed that in the text. And for the record, I don't blame Sansa either. The girl was in a shitty situation if she lied or told the truth. I put the blame squarely at Joffrey and Cersei's feet.

You also said that perhaps Jeyne was being malicious because she was possibly frustrated knowing that Arya "put" Mycah in that dangerous situation. I'm calling bullshit on that. The only person, the ONLY PERSON who we see ever mourning Mycah is Arya (I am sure his father mourned him as well, but since he was never actually shown, we can't be sure). In the quote I listed above, Arya is angry because none of her father's men did anything to stop his murder, nor the murder of Lady. And Arya keeps on remembering Mycah. No one else gave a crap about the "butcher's boy", even into ASoS. She's the sole carrier of his memory. Sansa sure as hell doesn't, neither does Ned. Though we don't get Jeyne's POV, I can assume she doesn't care either. But again, this is an assumption.

On the note about Gendry's agency being violated. I see Arya saying that as a desperate attempt to keep one of the few people she knows and trusts by her side. This girl has been through hell, she's seen countless people tortured, raped and slaughtered before her very eyes. Gods forbid a young child would want to keep her only friends by her side. Should she have asked if he wanted to? Absolutely. Does it even matter? No, because Gendry chooses to stay with the brotherhood alongside Hot Pie. This hurts Arya deeply, which is understandable. If you had two people left alive that you knew and trusted and they decided to stay when you knew you still needed to go, wouldn't that hurt you? It's not entirely reasonable, but again, we are talking about a traumatized child.

You mentioned that Jeyne wouldn't have been malicious in her retelling to Arya because she freaked out when she witnessed Ser Hugh's death. You're telling me that you have the same level of emotion when retelling a story of death as you do when you witness the death right in front of you? Dang, you're stone cold.

You say that Sansa is "remarkably sensitive" to class differences between her and Jeyne. I suppose that makes sense. When Sansa is brought before the Queen after Ned was imprisoned, she mentions that Jeyne is confined with her. I suppose a high born girl can't stand to share her rooms with a lower born girl and had to say something, to make sure the class differences between them were known. Jeyne is taken away by Littlefinger to become a sex slave. We all know where her eventual journey led, the poor girl. But at least Sansa was sensitive! Can you see how utterly batshit that is?

on the "Sansa being the true loner of the Starks"

I just saw a post saying that Sansa is the 'odd one out' amongst the Starks because she's surrounded by her brothers and a tomboyish sister (Arya). It is true that she is surrounded by brothers and a sister who rejects the patriarchal roles of a woman (Arya) but she is by no means a loner.

The two other named young noblewomen in Winterfell are Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel. Jeyne is the closest thing to a best friend for Sansa, while Beth is described more as a hanger-on than an actual friend. Jeyne strived to make Sansa happy, often at Arya's expense: Jeyne would often whinny like a horse or call Arya Horseface when Arya would walk by. When Mycah is unjustly killed by the Hound, Jeyne taunts Arya by telling her the Hound cut Mycah into so many little pieces that his own father assumed it was a bag of meat to eat. Jeyne Poole was the daughter of Winterfell's steward. Arya was the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. In my opinion, it is only by her close friendship with the other daughter of Lord Stark that Jeyne feels emboldened enough to make such a comment.

And then let's talk about Catelyn. There is no denying that Catelyn Stark loved each and every one of her children with the fury of a thousand suns. In fact, the older I get, the more I understand her (excluding her treatment of Jon which deserves an essay all on its own) She saw Sansa as the perfect daughter:

"Sansa was a lady at 3, always so courteous and eager to please. She will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that." These are words from Catelyn Stark about her elder daughter.

"Arya was a trial, it must be said. Half a boy and half a wolf pup. Forbid her anything and it became her heart’s desire. She had Ned’s long face, and brown hair that always looked as though a bird had been nesting in it. I despaired of ever making a lady of her. She collected scabs as other girls collected dolls, and would say anything that came into her head." These thoughts from Catelyn Stark about her younger daughter.

Sansa fit into the traditional patriarchal view of what a noble woman was supposed to be, which made her easier to manage for Catelyn. Arya does not.

The only person that Arya truly, honestly and deeply feels akin to is Jon. This is not me saying that the only person who loved Arya was Jon. Her family loved her deeply. But I am examining the POV of Arya and Sansa.

Arya loves and gets along with her siblings, but she is an outsider compared to them: they all have the red hair and blue eyes of the Tully's. Only Jon shares the looks of the Starks. This to me has always been the most obvious divide; the physical differences between Robb, Sansa, Bran, & Rickon and Jon & Arya. Jon and Arya have always relied on each other more than anyone else, pre-canon or into ADWD.

To wrap this rambling post up, I disagree that Sansa was considered an outsider/the odd one out in the Stark family. In truth, that position doesn't even belong to Arya, though she is the odd one out amongst the trueborn Starks. It belongs to Jon and Theon. Both are boys who desperately want to be Stark children but can never be, and their subsequent actions, both positive (Jon) and negative (Theon) are direct results of that desire and lack of result.

AND AGAIN, THIS IS NOT AN ATTACK ON SANSA. This is a response to a comment I saw from a (presumed by me) Stansa. Sansa absolutely deals with isolation in the series as the books goes on as a captive in Kings Landing. All the Starlkings do as they are separated across the continent and eventually Essos (Arya).

Anyways, hope this wasn't too much of a pain to read, I'm buzzed right now. Love Y'all.

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skyeventide · 3 years ago

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hi, if you are planning on writing the embalmed M.E. post, I'd be extremely interested! amazing topic

oh man okay I'll try to put it together. I'm gonna stick mostly to one single text for this one because, as a topic, memory-embalming is really large and I think you can construct a lot on like, solely the concept of memory and fading and preservation in the legendarium. and I’m not gonna try that lol

the quote where Tolkien uses the "embalming" word is letter 131. I should preface this by saying that more often than not I take great issue with the way jirt talks about his theology-adjacent Goodness and Good Choices, and I think it's pr... pro... pronghhh I don't wanna write that word lmao, please take it as me intending "it has non-straightforward issues that are worth a second look", not as anything else. it’s problematic, there I put it down lol academic gremlin brain won, for anyone who doesn’t wholly align with him philosophically. so I suppose anyone who generally agrees with jirt's own reckons will disagree with my takeaway here, but so are things. anyway, I'll try to explain why I called it a value judgement.

screenshots first:

I know this is a lot of text, but it's needed. so there's kind of a lot to unpack there but to strip it down to the relevant basics:

part of the reason why some of the exiles do not return is that they don't want to return as exiles, but remain where they have power and stand at the top of the hierarchy (this to me feels like, specifically, a very Galadriel motive — but that's yet another post lmao); they also want peace and bliss, and that is another motive, the same peace and bliss that exist in Valinor (and while the first motive I list, I believe, is directly consequential to the status of the first age's survivors, this second motive, having the peace and bliss of Valinor outside of Valinor, has been present and thematic since the speech of Feanor to the Noldor, and likely before that); they can't therefore abide the "fading" of the land, the way it changes with time, and endeavour to preserve it — embalm it (this becomes emblematic in one of the various versions of the creation of the Elessar, or one of the them: a stone that, if someone looks through it, shows things as they would be when healed, whole, and beautiful. in one of said versions, Celebrimbor gives this stone to Galadriel, who is saddened by the change of time. this is Celebrimbor of Gondolin, or perhaps Telerin Celebrimbor, but no matter the origin, the theme persists)(second parenthesis to point out how third-age Lothlórien, preserved by Nenya, is in all effects a land out of time, where ancient things aren't simply echoed but continue living, and where trees literally don't die. leaves change colour during autumn and winter, then fall down in spring when immediately new buds start growing); fourth motive is the healing of the land's hurts and its adornment.

the difference between healing the land and “embalming” it, I suppose, is the acceptance of its change under the sun, so the acceptance of time's passing, while healing and adorning it work in unison with said passing. of course the matter here is, the absence of decay is kind of Valinor’s whole thing. but we know, both from letter 156 and the Akallabêth, that Valinor isn’t inherently a blessed land and it doesn’t give immortality by virtue of being Valinor. in fact: “'for it is not the land of Manwe that makes its people deathless, but the Deathless that dwell therein have hallowed the land; and there you would but wither and grow weary the sooner, as moths in a light too strong and steadfast.” and letter 156: “for as emissaries from the Valar clearly inform him, the Blessed Realm does not confer immortality. The land is blessed because the Blessed live there, not vice versa, and the Valar are immortal by right and nature [...]”

so, really, it’s not the where that counts. jirt, I believe, makes it pretty obvious that it’s the why and how, and through whose counsel. what I think is identified here as the fault isn’t that preservation of the land isn’t possible and therefore should not be attempted (clearly it is), rather it’s the wish to create a paradise of their own, a desire that Sauron identifies and exploits. now, obviously I’m not trying to argue that Sauron is right or anything the like (even at early stages, and despite the partial overlap of motives, Sauron’s goals can’t really be called good, even though you might argue that they gain some form of internal conflict), or that in pursuit of a challenge to the divine harm becomes justifiable — this isn’t really about characters and more about jirt the man himself and his production.

I just generally take issue with the idea that wanting a heaven of sorts, made with your own skills, which is within the realm of possibility, and by no one’s leave but your own, is inherently a bad thing, or that it must come with harm and corruption, and compromised motives. but in the narrative of these books, from an outside-of-text perspective, it doesn’t seem to be possible to issue the challenge that letter 131 talks about without also giving aid to evil (Sauron, earlier Morgoth) willingly ot unwillingly, without getting closer to “magic” and “machinery”, without it being written and interpreted under a lens of “embalming”, of refusal to let the world live its course. it isn’t possible to have that cake and eat it (yeah jirt kind of wrote that saying wrong lmao), which is identified as a corruptible weak point.

it isn’t possible because this discontent, or this wish for independence, is in itself a seed that the story connects to evil and lies (Morgoth’s work in Valinor, and possibly earlier than that his discord); because it’s inherently linked to wanting the top-of-the-hierarchy authority granted by Middle Earth. and because the legendarium doesn’t truly leave room for any gods-challenging story that isn’t some form of taint and mistake, a Fall™ (challenges to Morgoth here don’t count, he is the fall; this is about Eru and the Valar).

(I think here it’s relevant to note that the elves not being in ME is elsewhere called out as a loss for Men, who do not have the “elder siblings” at hand who were supposed to teach them and guide them; as well as the fact that Eru in morgoth’s ring mentions, himself, that the elves have been “removed to Aman from the Middle Earth in which I set them”. so it’s not necessarily so straightforward in all aspects — but I think a discussion on that would be going a little too much beyond the scope of this tbh)

I believe my point is exemplified by a note in this same letter:

“preservation in reverent memory” here is not negatively judged, despite being effectively an antiquarian lore memorial to (”good”) tradition. Elrond also rebukes Sauron, and is not at all subjected to the same Ring-related test as Galadriel in LotR. and I think this is sort of the narrative point of the story, part of the greater (in good measure theological) thesis underlying it. and why I called it a value judgement.

#quenta noldorinwa #ingoblingo #anyway... death of the author or lack thereof #not tagging any of this with them characters cause like #I don't particularly care to catch anyone who'd get offended by it #shrug emoji #answered.#JRR Tolkien

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juliettalfacharlie · 4 years ago

Text

Day 4, alt: Visiting a Grave

CW graphic death, gun violence, suicide, acceptance of death, and drugs.

The previous two years, she'd shaken with emotion. First with anger, then grief. Anniversaries weren't necessarily special dates; they weren't anything she looked forward to or dreaded, but it was still jarring to realize how much time had passed. She'd experienced a minute of disbelief when she first recognized it'd been a year since her wife was with her.

It was customary in the Earth Kingdom to show respect only towards elders. When parents lost their children, no vigils were held, for it wasn't acceptable to honour those your junior.

It was a practice that thankfully hadn't taken roots in Republic City. Kya wouldn't have cared, regardless. She was hurting, damnit, and that wasn't lessoned because Lin was three years younger than she.

Now, 1,095 days past her lover's death, Kya was finally in a place of peace. Not with Lin's killer, or the circumstances surrounding it. She didn't believe she'd ever accept that.

The two had been walking out to their car after an evening dinner, and Lin sensed an altercation a block away. Kya sat in the Satomobile while Lin cautiously neared, concerned over a potential mugging or assault. It hadn't felt like anything serious, especially compared to what both women had already seen.

Lin used her seismic sense when she'd crossed half the distance, seeing two figures. One was pressed against the wall, the target, while the other stood in front of them, the instigator.

She treaded as quietly as possible, peeking around the corner to assess the situation.

There were two men, both tall and muscular. The assailant held something Lin originally believed to be a small baton, but as it caught light from the streetlamps, Lin saw it was a handgun. They weren't exceedingly common, due to being new inventions that were quite costly, but the amount of nonbenders in Republic City meant they were more concentrated here compared to other nations.

Lin desperately wished for her old spool of cables, but she'd retired them fifteen years prior, and they'd been gifted to the top metalbending prospect at the time of her departure.

The weapon was pointed at the victim, so any surprise attack risked him firing. She instead went for a civil approach, calling from behind the corner, "Step away and put your weapon down." she instructed, hearing his loud gasp.

"Who's there? Don't come close or I'll shoot!" the attacker yelled. His voice was strained, likely from fear.

"You haven't done anything yet, kid. Just set the gun on the floor, and we can talk about it." she replied, using a tone of placating authority. She displayed power without intimidation; the other man was acting on pure emotions, he needed to feel like he had an ally.

"I don't want to talk. That's not going to do shit to bring back my brother." he said, and Lin heard a head hit the concrete wall.

"Killing someone else won't either. It's also not going to make you feel the pain any less. The only thing it'll accomplish is ending your own life as well." she told him, voice softening just slightly. One constant in life would always be violence, and there would always be people hurt by it. Lin stepped around the corner, hands up in submission.

The gunman yelped, swinging the weapon towards her. "Hey, I know you! You're a cop!" he said, and Lin had a full view of his face. He was young; not boyishly so, but somewhere in his early 20's.

"I'm not an officer anymore, but the experience I have means I know exactly how this can end up. I don't want to see that happen to you; there's so much left to experience." she told him, calm under his pressure.

His hands trembled just so, eyes full of pain. "There would have been if it weren't for him!" he yelled, turning his head to the other man.

His face was bloody but he looked otherwise unharmed. "It's not my fault the idiot overdosed, I just gave him the shit." he argued, and the young man clenched more firmly around the gun.

Lin intervened quickly, taking attention off of the loudmouthed dealer, "I know what it's like to lose a sibling. My younger sister. My mom took her side, so it felt like I was entirely alone, but I found joy in my job. In my hobbies and friends. It made that pain feel much more manageable, and I couldn't be happier right now." she explained, eyes not straying from his face.

"I don't have any of that. I just had him." he said, shaking his head.

"For a long time I didn't either. I held onto my anger for decades, and it prevented me from fully enjoying myself. I don't want that to happen to someone else," she told him, "It wasn't until I was 52, actually, until I let that go. I didn't get closure, and the people who hurt me never apologized, but I saw how much harm it had done to me. Shortly after, I started talking to the woman I came to marry. She's the best person I know; beautiful, kind, insightful, she brought out the best parts in me, and I found myself wanting to be happy for her.

"If it's too difficult to feel joy with yourself, would you pity an old woman and feel it for me? I promise you, this hopelessness isn't permanent." Lin said, watching as the man slowly relaxed his grip and lowered the weapon.

"How about you start by telling me about him, hm?" she encouraged. He kept the weapon up, pointed at her knee, but his shoulders had dropped.

"His name was Mingyu. I was eight when he was born, and I was so excited. We didn't have a lot of money, and mom and dad were always working, so I had to look after him instead of going to school.

"I taught him what I had learned, and he was so smart. I got a job to make sure he could go to school when he turned 6. He was so good at kuai ball.

"We lost our dad this year, and Yu took it so hard. I was too busy with my job to see it, but he at school he started- why didn't I just-" the man finally lowered the gun, eyes welling up.

"Kids make mistakes. It's not your fault that Mingyu slipped." Lin told him, taking a cautious step forward.

The man didn't respond, so she continued to close the distance.

Lin straightened, feeling the distinct thud of metal-soled boots. The police had been called before she showed up.

"Hey, give me the gun and we can keep talking." She urged, and he looked up at her, startled by her change in tone.

"RCPD, hands where I can see them!" an officer behind her bellowed. Lin felt a pit open in her stomach, watching the emotions flash across the man's face.

In a moment the gun was back up, four feet away and aimed right between her eyes. "You lied to me!" he shouted, and pulled the trigger.

Kya had heard the shot, and immediately she knew what had happened. She felt a tug in her soul, similar to the feeling when her mother passed, and she sat in the passengers seat for hours, unable to move.

The man who murdered Lin was only 22. His name was Han. He ended up receiving life in prison for killing the former police chief, compared to the 30 he would have gotten if he killed the drug dealer, but he instead hanged himself in his holding cell. He was survived solely by his mother, and Kya deeply pitied her, but it was because of her son that she was now a widow.

It was unbelievable to imagine Lin losing her life there, in the alleyway fifteen years retired from the police force, instead of the dozen times she'd been severely injured, or the hundreds where she'd faced worse danger. Kya forgot, sometimes, in the beginning. She'd return to the empty house and think Lin must be in the backyard, or wake up in a cold bed expecting the smell of Lin's favoured morning tea, tieguanyin, to have permeated upstairs.

Kya had been so achingly raw with pain. She'd felt nothing like it before, where the jagged edges of her grief made her lash out instead, but for months she hated Lin for having left her. Spirits damn her noble nature.

After five months the wounds finally soothed, but she'd been terribly surprised to feel its return when she visited Lin's grave a year past her demise.

She then felt guilt over her reaction; Lin had told her countless times how Kya had "saved" her. Shown her love, and helped her realize to be cared for wasn't negative. Kya wished so desperately just to speak to her once more. To thank her for all that she gave, and ensure Lin knew how deeply she'd been loved.

The second anniversary was when she felt sorrow, but in the past year she'd received news that wasn't altogether bad. It made the third occurrence pass with far less grief.

Kya had been experiencing chest pains and severe shortness of breath. From her own diagnosis, she surmised her heart was giving out, but a healer in the city confirmed it with ease. There wasn't too much surprise given her age, approaching 84, her lifestyle, not always the healthiest, and the compounding emotional experiences she'd weathered. While she'd never looked forward to death, she found that she was ready for it whenever the time came.

It was almost freeing, sitting in front of Lin's grave without the cloud of overwhelming emotion. She didn't visit her final resting place except for this anniversary, as she'd been buried in the Beifong family's tomb all the way in the Earth Kingdom. Lin had been rigid on tradition that way, even if Toph insisted against it and Su planned to start her own in Zaofu. Kya had only wanted to honour her wishes; being with her mortal body didn't give her a particular sense of closeness. She sensed Lin at random moments regardless of her location, which had been one hint she hadn't yet chosen reincarnation. Her spirit had remained hidden despite thorough searching in the Spirit World, but Kya knew she was only waiting for Kya's time.

And with it nearing, for the first time she faced the gilded headstone with a glimmer of hope.

#kyalin #lin beifong #kya lok #cw mental health #in honour of the Qingming Festival #why did i write so much these were supposed to be like 300 words each #angstpril

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tirednerd2012 · 3 years ago

Text

What He Did (IWLG)

Trying a different writing style here because Barley is very dissociated right now. Warning for death and a lot of angst on Barley’s part.

“Do you blame yourself for what happened, Barley?” the therapist asked, after a few moments of silence. Barley cursed in his head. Why had his mom insisted he do this? He wasn’t the one that was missing for months.

“Barley, this is a safe space,” the therapist said. He couldn’t remember her name. He really didn’t want to be here.

“It was my fault. I was the one who let Kirk in the house. That’s on me,” he responded. There were pity in her eyes. Better than the fear he could have sworn he saw when she was reading over his file. He admitted to the crime of killing Kirk. Of course, his step dad was the one handling the report and those who came to the house that night agreed, Kirk got what he deserved.

Barley still couldn’t believe he had done what he did. All the worry and anger he felt over the last seven months of his little brother missing, wondering if he would ever see him again, everything unleashed. Kirk didn’t stand a chance by the time Barley got there.

His old friend’s dead body isn’t what haunts his mind most of the time, though. It was finding Ian trapped in that attic. He looked so small, curled up in a corner. He looked at Barley, his older brother and best friend, with the eyes of a stranger.

He looked terrified, as if he was contemplating if Barley was real or not.

“Barley,” the therapist said, getting his attention again. He looked back up at her. “Do you really think you could have predicted this?”

“No.”

“You haven’t forgiven yourself for something beyond your control.”

“He was gone for months. And now, Ian’s changed forever. I wasn’t there to protect him.”

“Who said it was your sole purpose in life to protect your brother?”

“I did. I protect my family,” Barley responded, just as quickly.

“Why do you give yourself that responsibility?”

“Because they’re everything to me.”

“Does this have something to do with your father you think? You were the man of the house for years after that,” she said. Barley’s heart stung and he stood.

“I’m sorry, but I think I’m done for today,” he said and left before she could protest. He didn’t need this. He knew where his struggles were, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was staying by Ian and this stupid appointment was keeping him from his little brother. After months of separation, an hour felt unbearable.

He drove home with everything yet nothing on his mind. He was working on pure muscle memory and when he walked in his house, he felt a weight off his shoulders. Ian darted down the stairs.

“Barley, you’re home early,” he said.

“Yeah, didn’t have much to talk about,” he lied. He wasn’t sure if Ian could tell or not, but his brother didn’t say anything. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, Barley,” Ian promised, and the elder Lightfoot nodded and hugged him tightly. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah, I know,” Barley said.

Luke’s friend, Matt, ended up coming forward when he heard the news report about Ian and the police officially announced Kirk as the main suspect. It took awhile because Matt himself went into hiding after the death of his friend, but when he learned Kirk was trying to hurt someone else, he found it impossible to stay hidden.

That’s how Barley ended up in front of an old house that Kirk’s biological father owned. Apparently died years ago and the house was supposed to be abandoned, which made it a perfect spot. He should wait on Colt, but he couldn’t wait another second. 7 months.

He walked in the house and found that it could have been abandoned. The living room furniture had been flipped over ages ago and a thick layer of dust covered almost everything. Barley could have turned around, but he noticed footprints among the dust. He had to be careful not to step on broken glass from bottles, but he made his way to the kitchen next. He made sure to be quiet and sure enough, Kirk was there. His back was turned and he obviously hadn’t heard Barley come in.

Every emotion he felt came at once. Anger, worry, yet the tiniest bit of relief and hope because Ian had to be here and he wasn’t leaving without him. Without thinking, he attacked Kirk from behind.

“Barley?” Ian asked and snapped Barley back to reality. “You look tired. Maybe you should go lay down?”

“Um, yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Barley responded. He felt like it wasn’t him in his own body, like he was just watching from the sidelines. His head was spinning, and his stomach turned as he remember what he did. “Is mom home?”

“Yeah, she’s in the backyard.”

“Are you going to be okay if I lay down for about an hour? You can wake me up if you need me,” Barley said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay,” Ian said. This kid was too brave for his own good. But, Barley nodded and went into his bedroom, but he left the door opened.

He slammed Kirk’s head against the counter immediately. Blood poured from his forehead and he spun around and his eyes widened with horror at the sight of Barley. Only, Barley didn’t feel like himself. He felt like someone had replaced his own nature with a different one and this asshole was going to pay for what he did, regardless of what anyone had to say.

Kirk hit him. A few good times, but nothing stuck. He didn’t feel anything besides rage. The two fought for what seemed like hours. Barley punched, kicked, did everything in his power to make Kirk feel pain and he’s sure both of them knew Kirk was going to die there.

He wasn’t sure how he got ahold of the knife. He still doesn’t remember picking it up or sticking it in Kirk’s chest. All he can remember is the gasp. That gasp and then the blood everywhere as Kirk collapsed against him.

“Barley? Barley?” Ian shook him and when he looked up, he saw the worry and concern clouded in his baby brother’s eyes. For a moment, Barley forgot where he was, but then he remembered he was in his bedroom. He was home. They were home.

“I-I…” he didn’t know what to say, or if anything really could be said. Ian threw his arms around Barley in a tight hug and he gratefully returned it, feeling the tears now freely pour down his face.

#onward #onward au #iwlg #barley #ian #ian lightfoot #barley lightfoot

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

Text

A/N look if you didnt even tear up. All I'm saying is I didnt do my job right.

Part 1 ××× Part 2 ×× Part 3

Bakugou sits at the long table in the dining room in his usual spot, Mei and Haru nod his way as others begin to file in.

The children look a tad older than usual as they sit a bit straighter this year, Uncle Sozen seems to have aged over night as he sits to Bakugou's left. He offers a wide smile to which Bakugou returns.

"DADDY!! DADDY!" A shrill voice rings out, little feet slapping harshly against the hard wood as a little girl slams down into his lap. Ash blonde hair dutifully braided but coming loose from all of the horse play skillfully climbs onto his legs.

She looks up at him with wide eyes that mirror your eye color. His heart melts as he smooths down some of her hair.

"Where's your brother?" He asks softly before a young boy comes rushing in. Feet falling hard enough to shake the dishes at the table. Your hair and his burning ember eyes greet him with a shit eating grin.

Neither could be older than six or seven.

"Told you I'd find you!" He brings up a bright palm to slap his older sister only for his wrist to be grabbed by you. Leveling him with a glare the child shrinks away. Trying to hide behind both his sister and father. Bakugou looks up at you, your fierce gaze, your glowing features and swollen belly. His heart melts, pooling in his stomach and threatening to dip lower still. He swallows thickly adding his own sharp voice to the mix.

"Sit and behave." The children cling to Uncle Sozen or Aunt Mai. Climbing into their laps eager to be spoiled once more. Summer crickets echo into the dining hall before they are drowned out by both the thunder of the approaching summer storm and the roar of the dining table.

Dinner goes on without a hitch. Happy conversation as Sobo takes it all in. She sits stick straight, her once silver hair long since turned moon white and adorned in her normal plain kimono. When dinner is over, everyone begins to clear the table, excited for tomorrow's birthday and celebration that is bound to take place. Bakugou goes to what has become his normal duty, standing by Sobo to help her up and back to her study. He knows she wants to see the moon flowers bloom.

He is gentle with her now fragile stature, never able to forget how easily she wielded an old weapon on his first dinner at this estate. The thought makes him smile as they enter her study. He settles her onto her cushion, about to leave to finish clearing the table. But she doesn't let go so Bakugou sinks into the cushion beside her, the summer storm faded as quickly as it came and as the clouds clear the closed tight buds slowly begin to unravel, mirrored moonlight nestled on delicate petals. Silence envelops the two as they stare at the beautiful metaphor that is the moon flower. Her grip tightens on his strong bicep.

"Thank you for humoring this old woman." Sobo breaks the silence causing scarlet eyes to slide to his elder.

Except she no longer looks old, instead she looks young. As she did in the picture with All Might. Hair as dark as night and adorned in her crane kimono. Bakugou swallows thickly.

"I'm glad you've made up your mind, mago."She smiles, squeezing tighter and somehow this feels more like a good bye than anything else.

He doesn't like the feeling, he goes to open his mouth to ask what she means but lightning suddenly strikes outside.

The thunder comes as the sound of the sliding door to your room. Bakugou lifts a palm glowing hot as an ember aimed at the figure who dared to enter in the early hours of the morning.

Mei stands in the doorway disheveled as you slowly rise, you hold eye contact with Mei's watery eyes and just…know.

You jump to your feet, throwing off the blanket as you rummage in your bag for any sort of clothing. Mismatched as you shove your body in the fabric as you head for the door. Sprinting down the hall as if called on a mission. Bakugou rises, noticing Mei's tear stained cheeks, questions are plastered all over his tired features.

"Its...Sobo…" A hiccup leaves Mei's frame reminding Bakugou just how small and young she was, "She's...she's."

"I'm glad you made up your mind, mago."

It clicks as her voice echoes in his head from the dream, soles of his feet burning as he runs aimlessly through the estate until he finally finds where people are gathered.

There was not a single dry eye as he huffs.

"Where's…" He asks but Aunt Mai just points, clinging to Uncle Sozen who seems to be frozen in time. Bakugou slowly walks towards you as you sit with wide eyes. Clasping onto Sobo's cool hands.

When he sinks down next to you is when he realizes that you're shaking.

He fights his gut, to reach out for you, to pull him to you so you can cry to your heart's content but instead you look to great Oba.

"I'll help sort her things. Please allow me a shower first." You say monotone, eyes glazed over and Bakugou isn't sure which would be worse. You unfeeling and cold or you crying until you were sick.

Either way his heart was sure to split in two. Your eyes come back to Sobo. You lean in close, pressing a soft kiss to her fast cooling cheek.

"I'm sorry we lied. Bakugou is barely my roommate Sobo." You whisper so lowly that even Katuski strains to hear you.

You rise, trying to walk calmly out of the room. Telling yourself over and over that this was just a mission or worse yet just a nightmare and to allow yourself to feel an ounce of fear or grief would be your downfall.

"Its all Uncle Shoji's fault! If he hadn't come and riled Sobo up or hadn't made that damned drug Sozen would have felt her vitals weaken." Haru yells, tears falling in fat droplets as he slides a forearm over his face. You snap then, yelling as you reach for the first thing you can grab, a book that you hurl at your cousin as you scream.

"SHE HAD AN ARRYTHMIA! WE CAN'T BLAME SHOJI FOR ALL OF OUR FAMILY'S FUCK UPS."

The book hits Haku square in his face, a letter flutters from the yellowed pages before it slams onto the ground.

All eyes watch the letter that's addressed in big bold letters.

To my family.

Eagerly you swoop for the letter, snatching onto the parchment and last tangible thing from your grandmother. You rise to your feet, eyes frantic as you look around the room.

Bakugou knows that face, you're about to make a bad decision and before he can stop you you've set a harsh pace to follow.

He rises and gives chase as does half of the younger generation. But none of them can keep up.

No one but Bakugou, which you had expected.

It would be more than easy enough to lose him in this house.

Or maybe it wouldn't be so easy. With each turn he comes closer but you can't be caught yet.

Whatever it is your grandmother has to say you know you have to read it first, but most importantly, alone.

You want the chance to say goodbye and to grieve in private.

You plan to lose him in the secret room in your grandmother's study rushing into it with just enough time to disappear.

But suddenly you cannot, too overwhelmed by the sight of her favorite little room, decorated with all of her accomplishments but more importantly her family. Memories over lapping one another as you stand frozen. Bakugou bursts into the room, skin popping with heated explosions as he grabs for you. Grip gentle on your wrist.

"We should go back." His voice is feather soft, as if he's scared you'll break and it makes you angry.

It makes you sad.

Because he's right, you will break. Now there was no one to look forward to seeing in your favorite season, no one to celebrate summer with.

No one to lose horribly at Go to, no one to teach you the art of a deal and no one to explain the beauty in the world no matter how small and insignificant it seemed.

Fat tears fall down your face as you cry like you never have before. Like you hadn't since you were a child. A small whine comes from your throat that has Bakugou's heart imploding, his brows furrowed as he reaches for your other wrist. Trying so hard to support you without making you feel weak. You push yourself into him, clutching at his shirt as his burning sugar and firework smell tingles your nose, summer incarnate. He wraps his arms around you tightly, pushing you closer to him in an attempt to hold you together as best he can as you fall apart in his arms.

"What are we gon..gonna do Katsuki?" You sob, shoving your face deeper into his chest, "H..How are we gon..gonna live without Sobo?"

Bakugou's eyes sting from your defeat, staring out into the background as he thinks of anything he can say or do to help you, all he draws is a blank. He was the worst at shit like this!

Movement catches his eye, a crane flies across the sky, his eyes fall to that damn plant noticing one final bloom persisting through the harsh morning sun.

"We aren't." He says, thinking of his dream, "She's always with us."

His words bring you comfort, resolve forcing your back stick straight as you look him in the face. That odd magnetism between the two of you returns. Licking your lips you do the unthinkable, following your gut as you stand on your tippy toes to softly press your lips to his.

"Thank you." A whisper, before stepping past him to face your family head on.

The ash blonde stands in the study for a moment, reliving the feeling of your lips against his. Of the electricity that surged through his body harder than any shot Denki had ever taken at him before.

The tips of his fingers brush over his lips, the bloom finally closing and he feels as if he sees a smile.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

He returns just in time to see the family all gathered around, you having finally settled the bunch. Breaking the wax seal of the letter. Eyes rimmed red, the ink blurring beneath your gaze but you needed to be okay, you needed to be strong. Someone was meant to read the letter outloud and today that someone was you.

“To my loving family, if you’ve found this letter then I know what you all are going through. But I do not want you to shed tears over this little old woman. I have lived a long and wonderful life. Blessed with each of my children, and their children’s children. I want you all to celebrate my life and more importantly celebrate our family. As this is all we have and should treasure above all else. Life is hard enough as it is on our own so we must not forget where we come from and who truly supports our love and our dreams. Surely there is no pain worse than hunger and loneliness, so eat with each other often to ease your troubles. One day Shoji will come back into our lives and I may not be around when that happens but when he does please welcome him back with open arms as we all can lose our way from time to time. Let him join you all at the dinner table and help him to remember what family, what our family, is all about. Make sure that he eats as I am sure he will be hungry and I know he will be lonely. Help him ease his pains, help guide him back onto the right path in life. I end this letter to remind you all how much I care and love for each and every one of you. Good things will come as does the crane that flies over the bloomed lotus.

With all of my love, forever and for always I give to you,

Sobo.”

Silence settles over the large estate with nothing more than sniffles and sobs echoing down the hall. Bakugou places his hand on your back, surprisingly having a hard time keeping his own eyes from watering.

In such a short time he had made a friend, he made family.

His skin burns through your shirt as tears fall from your cheeks, like a movie star. Eyes clouded, nose a bit red but eyes set hard.

"Sobo was right. Family is all we have and we can all become misguided. I…." You look to the blonde, squaring your shoulders, "I lied. Bakugou is not my fiance. He isn't even my boyfriend. I lied for Sobo, thinking that this would make her happy. But now…now we must make things right."

You pull an outdated iPhone from your pocket.

"I found it after Shoji left. Maybe we can contact him and when he comes back…" Your voice is hard and yet threatening to crack all at once. Eyes roaming over your large family.

"We will eat." Great Oba says, "Ladies, if you would prepare the food for celebration. I will retire to her study and call friends and family. We will lay Sobo to rest when the sun sleeps and the moon rises."

Everyone nods, wiping tears and comforting their children as they move to their duty. You give Bakugou a sympathetic look before rushing off to call uncle Shoji.

Bakugou suddenly finds himself a bit aimless once again before the sharp bite of a matriarch's voice rings out.

"Bakugou, you will come with me." Great Oba turns while Katsuki follows without question.

A certain item weight extra heavy in his pants pocket.

×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&

"Fuck!" Shoji growls for the thousandth time, unable to pack his things and leave the near by hotel. Finally he rises forcing himself to gather various items that he has half a mind to leave.

Fresh tears pricking his eyes as he wishes that old bag would just….would just fucking love him. He knows he's the black sheep, the unwanted baby but still.

He still is trying to live up to the image Sobo had of him. His phone rings and he answers it with a snobbish attitude, crying long gone from his voice.

"What do you know, Princess figured out my random passcode. I knew you were smart but why are you so damn persistent I'm not coming bac… "

"Just shut the fuck up." You cut him off, sounding like Sobo with your harsh tone but you with your cussing. He runs his hands through his hair.

"Sobi is gone Shoji. You need to come back. You need to say goodbye."

"She...she what?! That old hag is immortal."

"Watch your tongue." A startled chilll runs down his spine before you add your own flair to Sobo's best threat, "Or I will have to watch it for you by taking it for myself."

"And before you start your bullshit pity party we want you here. We need you here. You're family. You need to eat with us. Laugh with us…" Your voice threatens to crack, "Cry with us Shoji. Find your way back home….please."

Nothingness stretches on between the two of you before you sigh. Hoping he will prove you and everyone else wrong. That he is not a lost cause.

"We lie her to rest tonight. Under the watch of the full moon near the lake."

You hang up the phone, crushing it in your hand by accident as salt water streams down your face.

×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&×&

The hot head has never found himself in so many uncomfortable and vulnerable spots during this trip than he has in his entire lifetime.

He sits across from Great Oba-san who really only wanted him around to keep any eye on him. A war rages in himself, over the game of Go, over his dream and more so over these new blossoming feelings he has for you.

Was this going to be worth a few bowls of spicy ramen?

He fucking thought not. Sobo's voice echoes in his head as the small object burns a hole in his pocket.

Better to return it now before they think him a thief.

He withdrawals the stunning single set diamond ring that is surrounded by a ring of off tiny circular onyx. The diamond the moon suspended in the dark night of the onyx.

A breathtaking piece truly, he sets it atop the paper work Great Oba is sorting. Her facial expression seems to change in slow motion as it adjusts to her rapidly changing emotions.

"How did you…?"

"I couldnt sleep and she called me in to hustle me over a game of Go. She said she knew that she...that we lied." Bakugou continues to tell her about the game and dream. All the while Oba stares with wide eyes, fixated on the ring waiting for him to finish. Her face sets hard, her eyes a mixture of emotion.

"Bakugou, you know what you must do." As if it's a mission, a task. He thinks he must leave immediately. He goes to stand.

"No. Sit." Controlled rage, pushing the ring back towards the young man, "You must propose now. No one has had Sobo's full blessing like this before."

He stares at her hard, shocked even before he growls out.

"We aren't even dating!"

"In my time, in Sobo's time we didn't know our husbands name until we were wed." She continues to sort, filing things away avoiding taking the ring. He sucks his teeth, dumbfounded.

"We dont even like each other!" His forearms pop with his mouth and temper. Great Oba rolls her eyed.

"That's debatable. I've never seen someone so quick to break down her walls before. Besides only a man would have stayed during this family crises. A boy would have left on the first night." Bakugou mulls it over, the dream, was it just that or had he really pictured himself here. In this house.

In this estate year after year as it ebbs and flows of faces with your family.

Here with you?

His heart races and slows all at once, his palms sweat as his feet tingle to move. He inhales deeply trying to collect his thoughts and calm his thoughts.

"What if she says no?" His main worry, his only worry now being rejection. Still unsure if this is his future but it was true if given the opportunity to lay down his life to ensure yours he would do it.

No hesitation, no doubt to keep you smiling. To ensure you become your own matriarch to protect this house and Sobo's spirit.

"She wont say no. That ring isn't just any ring. That ring was passed down from our mother and from her mother." She swallows thickly, the thought of most her family having now passed pangs her heart but Oba must go on with big shoes to fill.

Her elder sister a force of nature.

Suddenly Bakugou stands, rage mixed in his scarlet eyes.

"Then it ain't fucking right for me to have this! I can't have this!"

"But. You. Will." Her tongue a knife. Ripping him to ribbons and all he can see is another version of you. Another strong willed woman, another force to be reckoned with.

"Besides, I know she will not. Once she sees that ring she will know. Sobo was a great judge of character despite being quirkless. I heard my son Sozen tell the story but only partially. My sister's husband was a great man who sadly was inflicted with a disease, Alzheimer's hit him hard in his old age. And an in home nurse took advantage of that. She looked much like s younger version it my sister, taking him to casinos and pretending to be his wife. She spent the family fortune, she thought a child would secure her wealth but she had tapped the well dry. When she realized that, she left Shoji on the front step, dirty and naked as if he were garbage."

Bakugou slumps back onto the amethyst cushion from the weight of the story, still worry is written all along his face. Great Oba sighs.

"At the end of the day, it is my niece's choice and if she says no at least you can say you tried. You honored Sobo's wish with an attempt and she'd be more than happy with that." Great Oba smiles and he can see a ghost of Sobo's wide, wild smile in her.

He swallows thickly, gently grabbing the ring. He turns it over and over in his hands.

This was crazy.

This was stupid.

This was crazy fucking stupid.

But maybe his fate in love was meant to be crazy fucking stupid.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #summerwars au #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha au #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bakugou x you

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ahrorha · 3 years ago

Text

Flame of Winter

Chapter 33

“I secluded myself.” Solas continued. “The other Evanuris thought I gave up and left me alone. I went to one of my palaces deep in the mountains, where now Skyhold stands. I hid there, trying to find a way to stop and punish the Evanuris. I couldn't defeat them on my own. To punish them, I knew I first had to weaken them. To achieve that, I had to take away their magic, their greatest source of power. So I formed the Veil, severing this world from the Fade. I created a prison within the Fade itself, locking them away for eternity. A fitting punishment for their misdeeds. I thought that with the Evanuris gone and the Fade hidden away, the People would finally be free.”

“I knew that in creating the Veil, life for the elves would change forever, but it was better than the alternative. The Evanuris were tearing the world apart and had to be stopped. I hoped that despite the lack of the comfort magic provided, the People would be safe. I hoped they would adapt, prosper and begin anew. But I was wrong.”

“By creating the Veil, I destroyed their world. Not only were countless marvels we had created destroyed, but it changed the very essence of the Elvhen themselves. The legends are wrong; it wasn't the arrival of humans that caused the beginning of ageing. It was me. The Veil took everything from the elves, even their immortality and their deep connection with magic.”

Eirlana shook her head. “Solas...”

“Don't.” he interrupted her. “You know how many elves exist today that have no idea what magic is. Something that should be a part of us. The essence of our very nature has all but gone. And I took it from them. In a sense, I made them all tranquil.”

She could see how responsible Solas felt, and he was. By creating the Veil, he had changed everything. But that didn't mean he was responsible for everything that happened afterwards. It also didn't explain why Solas was here now.

“What happened to you after you created the Veil? I saw in a memory in the Fade how your followers were persecuted. They were searching for you.”

“I was exhausted afterwards. Creating the Veil all but depleted my powers. I went into uthenera at a secret location. I could only sleep and watch as millennia went by. Although I had succeeded in stopping the destruction of the Fade and world, I didn't succeed in guiding the People into a new life.”

“It didn't take long before new wars erupted, fuelled by loyalists of the Evanuris. They tried to take control in an effort to fill the void left behind by the disappearance of the Evanuris. I had left instructions for my followers and allies to rebuild and guide the People into a better future, but they were ignored. Soon they were captured and killed for aiding me, as were all the others who were loyal to me. When the humans arrived, there was nothing left, and my name was all but a curse.”

“With the arrival of the humans came a new player to the Game. Demons and dragon queens, that were also affected by the separation of Fade and the waking world, preyed on them. They whispered to the humans that were talented with magic. Through dreams, they shared knowledge and secrets in an effort to reclaim what they had lost.”

“Strengthened by magic, it didn't take long for the humans to fuel the flames of destruction that I had created. War broke out between the humans and elves, and I could do nothing but watch as Arlathan was destroyed and Elvhenan fell. I witnessed how the elves were once again enslaved by the thousands and how our entire culture was destroyed.”

“When Andraste led her rebellion against the Tevinter Empire centuries later, there was almost nothing left. The elves only remembered vague legends and stories of Elvhenan. But they managed to build a new realm in the Dales after being freed, only to be brought down again by the exalted march. It wasn't solely the humans that brought down the elves but a combination of pride, fear, anger, greed and superiority on both sides. But that didn't matter for the end result. The elves were diminished once again. What was left of the People was either forced to live in human society's outskirts or wanders the lands like nomads with no place to call home, clinging to a past based on lies and stories. Wherever you look, it is the same; the elves are nowhere welcome and seen as lesser beings not worthy of a safe, normal life. They are blamed for everything, if it is disease, famine or unrest. With no rights, they cling to a meagre existence in poverty.”

Solas clasped his hands behind his back and looked at Eirlana. “When I finally awoke from uthenera, nothing I knew had survived. To me, the world and the elves existing nowadays are almost unrecognisable. The magic that once permeated everything has faded to a fraction of what once was. It felt like I made the world tranquil.”

“What did you do?”

“I regained consciousness slowly and weakened. One doesn't simply wake up after thousands of years. At first, I contacted a few of my followers through dreams. They had survived the turmoil of the ages. Either by staying hidden or like me waking up from uthenera. They were my eyes and ears throughout Thedas, and I learned about the people living now, the groups that are in power and the different cultures that exist today.”

“As my body recovered, I wandered the lands and saw with my own eyes how far the elves had fallen. I also discovered that the Veil I had created millennia ago had weakened considerably. It had degraded with the pacing of time, and many places showed signs of cracks and weak-spots. I feared it would eventually collapse entirely. But with the state the Veil was in, it would be a chaotic process. Some places would collapse sooner than others and would create a chaotic imbalance in the Fade itself. Not to mention the chaotic state the world would face during the ages it would take for the Veil to disappear entirely.”

“So I thought the best cause of action was to remove the Veil all at once.”

“But that would mean....” Eirlana stammered.

“Yes, the world would be plummeted in chaos all at once, but I thought it better to have a relatively brief period of chaos than wait decades of turmoil that would bring more damage to the world and Fade in the long run. But I soon encountered a problem. I needed to use the Anchor and my foci to enter the Fade and reverse the spell in order to restore the world as it should be. My foci had accumulated magical energy for millennia, but my body and magical powers were severely weakened after spending such a long time in uthenera. I was too weak to open the foci's seal and access its power.”

“I devised a plan to let it be opened by someone else. Through dreams and my network of spies, I had learned of the creature Corypheus and his mad plans to rise to godhood. I thought it best to solve two problems at once. I allowed Corypheus to find my orb through my agents.”

“You gave your orb to Corypheus willingly?” Eirlana asked in disbelief.

“Corypheus would have caused chaos with or without my orb. He had already gathered the Venatori and corrupted the Wardens, mages and templars long before he found my orb. The plan was for him to break to foci's seal and be killed in the process. After that, I would take possession of my orb, take the Anchor and enter the Fade to bring down the Veil.

Eirlana felt sick to her stomach, knowing how many people died through the explosion at the conclave. And how many more fell in the war against Corypheus. Not to mention the many spirits that got corrupted through the rifts. “What would have happened if Corypheus had died at the conclave and you succeeded and take down the Veil?”

“I would have watched as this world would burn in the raw chaos and begin anew. With the last of the Elvhen people that had survived until this age, I would have restored the world of my time... the world of the elves.”

Horrified, she stared at Solas. “That... that is monstrous.” she gasped. “Aren't we even people to you?”

For a brief second, Solas looked down before he faced her again. “Not at first.” he confessed to her, seeing the shock on her face.

“I had awoken in a world where most peoples conscious connection to the Fade was blocked. By forming the Veil, I took away the beauty of magic, creating whole populations with no affinity for magic at all. It was like walking through a world of tranquil.”

“Before I met you, I tried to contact the elves living in this age. First, through dreams, but only a few could hear me. After I awoke, I attempted to connect with the Dalish clans, teach them the truth about their history, and converse with their elders. Sadly only few were even willing to listen. They looked down on me, calling me a flat ear, a liar and a madman. I was confronted with ridicule and violence.”

“I also visited the alienages. I was more welcomed there; though some of the harhen believed me and my teachings, they were powerless. They had more pressing issues like racism, suppression, violence, famine and disease that their people faced.”

“And it was my fault. I took away the essence of the elves and caused their downfall. I was to blame that the elves are now living in the shadows of human society, clinging to false legends and onto a past that they don't understand.”

“I thought this world lost, that is until I met you.” He shook his head. “You started to change everything. When I encountered you in the Fade, I realised there were still things about this world that I didn't understand. Though at that time, I thought it to be insignificant. My plans were already set in motion, and I was determined to undo my mistakes. Corypheus possessed my orb, and I knew he would be at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

“My agents made sure Corypheus found just enough information to attempt to unlock the orb there. By coincidence, the Temple was built on the location I had carved a magical seal into the Veil when I created it. I knew it would be the best place to unlock the orb and enter the Fade. That Corypheus chose to be there at the time of the conclave wasn't part of my plan, and neither was using the Divine's life force in his attempt to unlock the foci. The instructions called for the aid of a person with a close connection with a spirit, but Corypheus twisted mind read them differently.”

It was unnerving to see Solas being so calm. In part, Eirlana could understand that he saw this world as a mistake, but it was difficult to hear him dismiss almost everyone living in it.

“You knew the conclave would explode?” she asked and felt almost afraid to hear his reply.

“Both no and yes.” Solas answered. “I knew there would be a release of magical energy, but I didn't expect it to be so violent and destructive. Nor did I anticipate for the explosion to rip such a big tear into the Veil and damaging the Fade. That it did only proves how weak and unstable the Veil has become.”

“I admit my plan was too hasty and ill-conceived—another mistake in a chain of failures. I hadn't foreseen that Corypheus had managed to find an effective form of immortality. Back then, when you found me in the mountains, I was desperate to find out what had gone wrong. Not only had Corypheus and my orb disappeared, but the resulting explosion had also destabilised the Veil. It was tearing apart uncontrollably, damaging the Fade and this world in its wake.”

“I knew I had to stop it somehow. I knew of Haven through my agents, and I suspected that whoever had survived the explosion would gather there. When Ryan appeared bearing the Anchor, I knew he was our only hope to stabilise and temporary heal the Veil. So I decided to stay and aid the fledgeling Inquisition. Though I must admit that dealing with Ryan's superstition and beliefs tested my patience more than once.”

“As we closed rifts and stabilise the region, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. I didn't know if Corypheus had survived and what he would do next, nor did I know what the state of my foci was. But, as you know, nothing happened immediately. I knew then that Corypheus hadn't succeeded in unlocking my orb because if he had, he would have destroyed us. So I waited and played my role of a humble apostate.”

“During those weeks we lived in Haven, it was an almost new experience. After spending ages as the leader of a slave rebellion, I suddenly lived among people who didn't know who I was. It was refreshing and reminded me of the days when I wandered through Elvhenan. In spending time among the people of Haven, I discovered the lives the people of this age lived, their joys and their struggles. Knowing how important the Inquisition would be in opposing Corypheus, I arranged for elven spies to work and live in Haven. They gave me the information and overview I needed. We also got to know each other and grew closer together during that time. And it made me realise I had judged the elves living now too harshly.”

“I struggled with myself. On the one hand, I had to revert the world back to the state it should be. But I also knew by doing so that I would destroy the lives of the people surrounding me. I knew I grew too attached, especially towards you, and tried to seclude myself. Something I found more difficult than I want to admit.”

“Then we finally managed to close the Breach. But as you know, our victory was brief. Corypheus attacked Haven to try to retrieve the Anchor. I was shocked to see that he was using my foci. He had managed to unlock it partially and could use a sliver of its power. Though I wanted to face him and retrieve my orb, I couldn't. I was too weak.”

“Seeing Corypheus alive and the mistake I made in giving my orb to him made me feel defeated. That night in the snowstorm alone and wounded, I was questioning my purpose. In trying to protect the Elvhen people, I created a world filled with lies, cruelty, and injustice. Greed and the need for power ruled again over the weak, and the elves were suffering once more. I had failed as the protector of the elves, and for a short moment, I gave up.”

“But giving up was never an option. You showed me that. You risked your life to save me, and it made me realise that I still had to fulfil my duty. I knew I had to fight and try again. The elven people deserved better. I owed it to them.”

“But first, Corypheus had to be stopped. By attacking the Inquisition, he had almost destroyed us, but we prevailed. And with Corypheus' plans finally revealed, I knew the Inquisition would redouble its efforts to stop him. But first, the Inquisition needed a new home to stand a chance, hence Skyhold. Originally I had other plans for my old home, but this was more important.”

“Once we settled there, I massively expanded my group of agents. I found elves that were willing to fight for a better future, for a chance to restore the elven people. As my allies grew in numbers, I turned my attention to the elves living now. Though they had lost much of the essence of being Elvhen, there were hopeful signs. Under the influence of the Breach and the rifts, many felt something stir deep within them. I also learned that Briala's spies working in the Crossroads had similar experiences. I knew then that not everything was lost and that the elves living now could regain some of their heritage. They could adapt and find a new life when the Veil disappeared.”

Solas smiled at Eirlana. “There was also you. You showed me like no other that there was hope.”

He took her hand and looked her in the eye. “I want you to know that everything we had was, no is real. I have never met anyone who could pull my attention from anything that easily. You accepted me even knowing I was hiding things from you. You made me feel emotions I thought I had lost forever. I love you with all my heart and soul. You have a rare and marvellous spirit. Even knowing my fate, I was unable to resist you.”

Under his intense gaze, Eirlana could feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Her heart leapt hearing him say those words. But she didn't understand why then he had left her. And why he was trying to leave her now.

“What do you mean? What fate?”

Solas let go of her hand, and his face hardened. “I walk the Din'anshiral. There is only death on this journey.”

Her stomach dropped. Solas thought he was going to die. She shook her head, trying to wrap her head around everything he had told her. “The Evanuris, they will be free again if the Veil disappears.”

“Something I can't let happen again. I will seal them permanently away, but doing so will likely take everything I have left.” he sighed. “I was always prepared to carry the sacrifice and burden for my actions. I would not have you see what I have to become. Too many lives will be lost again before this will be over.”

A chill ran through her as the feeling of dread filled her. “What about the non-elves? What will happen to the humans, dwarves and Qunari?”

“I am not entirely sure, but there is a reason why the dwarves lived underground, and the humans and Qunari only appeared after I created the Veil.”

“The headaches.” Eirlana whispered, remembering the effects of the Crossroads on the others.

He looked remorseful at her. “Many will perish during the chaos when I destroy the Veil, but I fear many more will die due to the direct contact with the Fade.”

She felt herself growing pale as she realised the scale of destruction Solas was talking about. She felt faint and staggered. Seeing her distress Solas quickly helped her to sit down on the remnants of a wall. He knew how soul-crushing the burden was of being responsible for the death of countless lives. He had already done it once, and he was going to do it again. He wished he could spare her from the cruelty of his plan, but in doing so, he would lie to her again. No, he wanted to explain so she would understand that he wasn't the monster history remembered him by.

Solas knelt down in front of her so he could look her in the eye. “I know how monstrous this sounds, but some things are inevitable. The Veil is broken and will disappear. It was always intended to be a temporary seal. So I could bring a hold to the destruction of the Fade and this world. I hoped that with guidance, the elven people would grow strong enough to oppose the ruling of the Evanuris. But things turned out much differently than my darkest predictions.”

“Not only have the elven people declined to mere shadows of what they once were. There are now humans living on their lands, ruling over them like they are a superior race. But it is not only the waking world that I changed. Through the Veil, I created an imbalance in the Fade itself. I blocked the spirits from a world they always could enter freely. By blocking them from it, they began longing for the living. Thus I am responsible for the existence of far more demons than there were in my time.”

“There is also the issue of the red lyrium, that it has appeared means that the seal containing the corrupted titan has weakened. Unfortunately, Hawke and Varric found the idol we used in the ritual to seal the titan. It was once guarded by dwarves that were loyal to Mythal. Sadly the whole thaig has perished over time.” “That the idol has been used only weakened the seals more, something that is evident by the spread of the red lyrium. My agents and I try to locate the idol to prevent even more damage. It is too dangerous to be used by anyone who doesn't know the full extent of what could be unleashed.” Solas sighed. “There are so many things differently than I ever wished for, but even if the outcome had been different, what I have to do next would have been the same. By creating the Veil, I put the world into a deep sleep, but it is awakening now. The Fade and waking world were once one, it was the natural state of the world, a state of balance that I disrupted, and now it tries to restore itself. The Veil is weakening, and many ancient beings are feeling it. The dragons are returning, the titans stir, and powerful beings of the Fade are waiting for the two worlds to be one again.”

“But I can't allow the Veil to continue to deteriorate like this. It would do too much damage to the Fade and destabilise this world in the process. If I do nothing, holes will appear everywhere, creating the same devastation as the rifts have caused. It would rip the Fade apart and corrupt countless spirits, not to mention the damage it will cause to the waking world. The Veil needs to be removed in a controlled manner. Like I told you earlier, it will plunge the world into chaos, but it will be for a relatively brief moment.”

“Though there will be much damage and many lives lost in the process, it is important that the natural order is restored. Spirits, demons, elves, dwarves and humans need to find their new place in the world. I have no doubts that that process will be difficult and terrifying for the living. And there will be many violent incidents.”

“Every mage, if it is elf, human or Qunari with magical talents, will suddenly find their powers amplified, and my studies show many would be unable to control them properly. Both humans and Qunari have received limited training because of the fear spread by the Chantry and Qun. This fear engraved in them will not do them any favours.”

“I believe elves and elf-blooded would fare better, but they need to be prepared to harness their abilities when the time comes. I have worked and searched for a way to control the impact the chaos will have when I bring the world back to how it was. Though many things will change for everyone, if they are spirits or beings of flesh and blood.”

“What I want is for the elves to be prepared. To give them the best chance to thrive in the new world. For that purpose, I have created havens for the elven people. Places where they can live, learn and train for that what is to come. I have gathered what is left of my followers, awakened others who still were in uthenera, and united the elves living now that heeded my call, be it Dalish or city elves. By educating and training the latter, I have discovered many things about the elves that live today. It gives me hope that not all is lost.”

“The crossroads.” Eirlana whispered.

“Yes. You to should have felt the effects of being close to the Fade. No, even when we were in Fade, you have felt it. How the Fade itself resonates with our being. How it nourishes and enlighten us. I believe some of the abilities the elves once naturally possessed have survived. They are just dormant, waiting for the Fade to return. Though I can't say the same for the humans. Many of them are not suited to live in such a world. The Qunari will also have a hard time, though they will struggle even more because of the teachings of the Qun. As for the dwarves, they are a hardy race, even if they have to return underground.”

In disbelief, Eirlana stared into the distance. Solas did understand her reaction. What he had told her was a lot to swallow, and for most, the implications of his plans would be considered monstrous. A part of him wished he didn't need to destroy the world a second time. He will take no joy in doing what he had to do. But he had to end what he sat in motion all those ages ago. Not that it mattered right now. He had to patiently wait and give her the time to gather her thoughts. He owed her that much.

Eirlana sat in silence for a while, thinking about all the things Solas had told her. It gave answers to so many questions and explained many things she had seen and witnessed. Though it was horrifying to think about the lives that would be lost if Solas carried out his plan, she partly understood him. It was true that the elves were second class citizens. She had seen the suffering and injustices the elves faced that lived in the alienages all across Thedas. In Tevinter, the elves met an even crueller fate, living as slaves. She knew all too well what it was like to have no will of her own. To be not seen as a person and to be subjugated to the whims of a cruel master.

Even if the situation of the Veil wasn't dire, and Solas would manage to unite all the elves and gain lands to call their own. She knew the humans would never accept the elves as their equals. She had no doubt there would be soon a war or even another exalted march to quell the elvish uprising, as they would call it.

She had witnessed and felt how those in power viewed the elves. They wouldn't tolerate an elven nation.

And besides that, the problem of the Veil would remain. She had noticed the scars in the Veil and the unrest of spirits since the closing of the Breach. Then there was also the corrupted titan, the Blight and the imprisoned Evanuris. She shook her head. This problem was far bigger than she ever imagined.

She looked at him, and although she had still many questions about what he had told her, her heart wanted to know one thing.

“Why did you leave?” Eirlana asked him.

Solas sighed. She was correct; he owed her an explanation. “My foci. Witnessing its massive amount of magical energy being released uncontrollably was shocking. More so was to see the orb being destroyed. It was my one hope to restore the world, and it was gone. I was in a state of disbelief. And there was also you; you had confessed to me that you knew who I was. You knew the biggest secret I kept from you. It put a lot of things into perspective. I was deeply ashamed; your confrontation and the loss of the orb; led to the only conclusion. I had to leave.”

“Wait, what things fell into perspective?” she looked at him, confused.

“Your reaction. You had withdrawn from me, didn't talk, and I could feel the fear, confusion and doubt whenever I approached you. You were rejecting me.”

“You could feel what?”

“I...” he cursed inwardly. He didn't intend to tell her about what he did to save her. He sighed. “I..., I am bonded with you.”

She frowned in confusion, not knowing what he meant.

“I... When the red lyrium that consumed you suddenly expelled from your body, it left countless wounds behind. You were bleeding severely. There was too much damage, too many wounds to heal. I poured all of my healing magic into you, but it wasn't enough. I could feel the life leaving your body. You were dying. In an act of desperation, I separated a part of my own life force and transferred it to you. It saved your life, but you are now forever bound to me. I am aware of you, even if you are not with me. I can sense the emotions that are the strongest within you.”

Eirlana was flabbergasted, she knew her body and magic had changed after she had awoken, but she never imagined it was Solas who had caused it.

“You know what I think? Is this... is this way my magic has changed.”

“No, as I said, I am aware of your peak emotions. You are overwhelmed and confused at the moment, but I don't need to feel them to know what you are feeling. It is only natural at the moment. And yes, you are bound to me and to my essence, my power. Though I must amid, I am surprised at how well you can wield that power. It was an old Elvhen practice to share once life force as an act of sealing a deep love and commitment.”

“And despite knowing how I feel, you thought I was rejecting you?”

“You did. After you discovered who I was and how I failed to save you and our daughter.”

“I was in mourning, you idiot.” In disbelief, Eirlana stared at him. “I had survived being tortured for days on end by two powerful demons. I lost our child, and at the same time, uncovered it was the child of a would-be god. I thought I failed you. I was afraid of how you would react that I found your secret, and I was right to be afraid. As soon as I tried to talk to you, you disappeared.”

“I...” he fell quiet. Now she was mentioning everything that went through her; her reactions made sense. He shook his head. Hadn't he told Cullen the same thing back then. How could he have been so stupid? And at the same time, he knew why. “I was afraid.” he confessed. “After you were captured, I was desperate. I was confronted with my own deepest fears.”

“Dying alone.” she said softly.

“Yes. I am older than I can remember, and almost all of the people I once knew and cared for are gone. When I was trapped in the nightmare webs in the Fade, I was surrounded by death. The world was destroyed, and I was surrounded by seas of blood and filled with bodies. All death because of me. In that dream, I found your battered body.” he shook his head. “When I found you in that cellar close to death and corrupted, I was beyond myself. I had come too late. You were dying, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was so afraid of losing you and still am. You have gotten too close to me already.”

“You are not going to lose me. Let me help you.”

“No. As I said, I walk the Din'anshiral. There is only death on my journey. I can't allow you to get involved. I have a duty, and I won't let you see what I have to become to accomplish that.”

“Stop painting yourself as a monster.”

He huffed a laugh. “Am I not a monster? I killed thousands of elves by creating the Veil and destroyed their world. And I have to do it again.”

“There has to be another way.”

“Don't you think I have thought about every possibility and outcome? The Veil, the Blight, the corrupted titan and the Evanuris. I have to face them all in order to save the Elvhen people. Regardless of with path I take, people will perish, and the world as we know it now will be destroyed in the end. All I can do is find the best outcome for the elves.”

Eirlana took a deep breath. “I didn't mean it like that. But thinking you are the only solution is the first mistake. I know you are trying to right a wrong, that you are trying to heal this world, but there are always different ways to accomplish it.”

Solas tilted his head. “Explain.”

“For example, a man has a leg that is badly wounded and infected. There are different actions you can take.” she counted her fingers down. “You can choose to do nothing. You can cut the leg of. You can try herbs and bandages. Try magic. Pray to the Maker or other gods. Or you can mix all of these up. In the end, all of these things can have the same outcome or a completely different one. He may be able to walk again free of pain, or he can perish despite your best efforts.”

“What I want to say is that you don't know everything. You must realise that by now. Let me help you. In my experience, it is better to heal with the combined knowledge of more healers than do everything on your own.”

Slowly he shook his head and looked down. “No, I can't burden you with my path. There are too many dangers, too many enemies that will try to harm you. You are not safe at my side. I am not safe. You should be as far away from me as possible.

“Solas.” she sighed his name. “I didn't say I will follow you blindly. I said I wanted to help you to look for solutions, whatever they may be. And do you really think that my existence and the bond we have is a secret? The Qun already tried to capture me, and I am pretty sure that I am now on the top list of people wanted by both the Inquisition and the Chantry. Not to mention the Evanuris.”

Solas whipped his head back up, his eyes big in alarm. “What about the Evanuris?”

“For starters, Falon'Din knows who I am.”

“How could he possibly know?”

“I met him, or at least a conscious reflection in the Fade. I told you how I stumbled upon a memory with you and him. I wanted to tell you more, but before I could, we were interrupted by Corypheus. Falon'Din was there with me in the memory, and he was very interested in the woman that had captured the lone wolf's heart.”

“How?” Bewildered, Solas quickly went over the construction of the prison he had made. “That is impossible. He is imprisoned forever. They all are.”

She huffed a small laugh. “How can you be this old and wise and be this blind and short-sighted at the same time. Do you think the Evanuris would just wait and do nothing in all those centuries? I don't know what this cage is, or whatever you put them in, but they have found a way out. At least a way back into the Fade.”

His eyes moved rapidly as he thought about all the implications this would have. He looked back at Eirlana. “Tell me exactly what happened. What did you see.”

“At first, it was like any other reflection in the Fade. It was the memory of a slave girl. I saw how she was offered to you by Falon'Din because you had lost a pet of yours. He was mocking you and reprehending you about how you had changed. The memory wasn't long and vanished as soon as the slave girl walked away from you. I was standing in front of your fading image, trying to comprehend that you were Fen'Harel. Suddenly the Fade shifted, and I was alone with Falon'Din. He circled and watched me like a predator. I could feel he had tremendous power and that he was dangerous. I also knew he wasn't a spirit nor a demon. He felt different. He studied me like a piece of meat, like I was a toy to him. He tried to ensnare me in golden tendrils, but I managed to break free. I fled from him, which made him laugh. The last thing he said was a promise he would find me again.”

“And finding me again he did, when I was trapped by Imshael and Xenbenkeck. I had been imprisoned and tortured for days and was very close to death. Suddenly Falon'Din appeared, and he was just as charming and dangerous as before. He called you a Mutton and a Dog, and was amused that I tried so hard to stay alive.”

Solas stood up and began to pace. These revelations had enormous consequences. If the Evanuris really were able to project their consciousness into the Fade, then that would mean they could be aware of all that had happened and the things he was planning to stop them once and for all.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked her.

“I wouldn't be alive without Falon'Din. He killed Xenbenkeck when she was about to kill me. Then he put me into a deep sleep, saying he would save me as thanks to a very old friend.”

Perplexed, he stared at her. “He was the one who cured you?”

“I don't know what he did. All I know is that I woke up back at Skyhold, badly hurt but alive and free of the red lyrium. But whatever Falon'Din did, I am pretty sure it wasn't to please you.”

“And there are others.” Eirlana continued. “I met Mythal, and she aided me to get to you.”

Solas froze again. “Mythal?”

“Yes, she was at Skyhold after you had disappeared. She gave me this amulet that activated the last eluvian for me.”

He looked first at the amulet, then at her. “This is important. How many days after I disappeared was this?”

“The night of the fifth day. Her energy came through the eluvian and merged with Morrigan's body.”

Solas began to pace again. He should have known that Mythal didn't simply would grant him her power and disappear. Why had she deviated from their plan? And why hadn't she confided in him? This was complicating things even further.

“And there is the third one.”

He stared at her, his head feeling dizzy by these revelations. “Who else did you meet?”

“It is something Falon'Din said to me. 'never has a mortal had the pleasure to pique the interest of three Evanuris.' This was before I met Mythal, and I don't think he spoke of her. I think he spoke of my teacher.”

Was that the reason her magic was so fluent, Solas thought. Was it because it was not a spirit who had taught her but one of the Evanuris.

“How did your teacher look like?”

“He had the appearance of a tall elf. He wore beautiful dark robes, embroidered with gold. His long dark hair fell over his shoulder; it was bound together with several golden bands. His eyes were an intense green.”

“Did his robe have a hood?”

“Yes, but when we were together, he seldom wore it up.”

“Dirthamen.” slowly, he shook his head and smiled, wondering what the odds were that a random act of kindness would bind him to one of Dirthamen's students.

Eirlana was surprised to see Solas smile. “Wasn't he your enemy?”

“Not directly. It is complicated. He once supported my efforts, helped me even to create safe havens for the freed slaves. He was a man more devoted to knowledge than to power. But his loyalty to Falon'Din was his downfall in the end. It was his knowledge that enabled the other Evanuris to slay Mythal, although he was tricked in giving it.”

They both fell silent and looked into the distance. Both with their own thoughts, mulling over the words they had shared.

Solas was the first to look at Eirlana. He was torn; on the one hand, he felt relieved. It was like a load had slipped from his shoulder, now he had been honest with her. It was both a blessing and a worry; how good it felt to finally talk with her. He was surprised that she was still here listening to him. Even after he had revealed his past and told her what he had done, she hadn't pulled away. He stared at her, scarcely believing she was there and still wanted to be at his side. She had not run away and cursed his existence.

His heart fluttered.

Was she right? Was there a way to remain together?

He knelt down in front of her again. Tentatively he took hold of her hand. He locked eyes with her and searched for an answer to the question that burned inside of him – A question he couldn't ignore no matter how hard he tried. Could he take her back?

There, gazing in her winter-blue eyes, he found his answer

Yes.

Slowly and questioningly, he reached up and cupped her jaw with his free hand. His thumb ghosted over her cheek, wishing again he wasn't wearing gloves today.

Eirlana huffed a nervous laugh as he stared at her with an intense gaze. She had said so little, yet she hoped that what she told him had sunk through to him.

“You have to realise that people see me as the enemy,” Solas said, his gaze not leaving her eyes. “as a monster planning something terrible. I worry you do not entirely grasp the gravity of the situation... The Veil has to be destroyed. If you help me... If you remain at my side...”

“I will become the enemy.” she finished his sentence. “I know I will become a target for all the people that oppose you.” She mirrored his action by placing a hand on his cheek. “But I also know I don't want to be apart from you. Let me stay at your side and help resolve this mess.”

Now Solas had to huff a laugh; yes, it was a mess. He was quiet for a moment, debating if he really should risk it. He knew it would be so much more dangerous for her to be at his side, but letting her go... he couldn't. Then the images of her slapping him and calling him an idiot flashed through his mind; somehow, it reassured him.

Not letting go of her hand, he stood up, pulling her along with him.

“Come.”

Alarmed, she asked. “Whereto?”

He couldn't blame her for feeling uneasy. He stepped towards her and gave her a kiss. The kiss lasted longer than he intended, but he pulled back, reminding himself that his men were waiting for him.

“Home.” he answered her.

She stared at him, doubting her own ears. Was he really asking to come with him?

“Please, vhenan, come home with me.”

“I... Yes!” They both chuckled when her yes sounded louder than she intended.

#flame of winter #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age solas #Solas #solas romance #solas x oc #eirlana

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minsyal · 5 years ago

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[Interest Level: 0, Revali x Reader]

Eloquence seemed to trickle from his lips like cool crisp water running through the smooth pebbles of a remote forest stream. You sighed, deciding to relinquish yourself to the torment of the bright lively party that went on around the town. Every word that dropped from his mouth was seemingly filled with sincerity. The way his eyes flickered around in various directions, the way he never quite leaned into the conversation, or the way his arms remained crossed over his puffed chest signaled to you that none of this was sincere in the slightest.

Rather than submit your time to this “festival,” you opted to slink away in the passing moments of boisterous laughter to make your way back to the safety and comfort of your home. Home, the place you could be when you didn��t want to see or hear another living being. It was truly where the heart is.

“Hey.” An extended arm caught you in your retreat. “No.” It was a simple command coming from your father and you knew exactly what he meant. You weren’t leaving the festival.

He had insisted that you, your brother, sister, and mother all attend this festival to honor the Champions as they made their way around Hyrule to receive everyone’s upmost praise for what they’ve yet to do. It was all overrated if anyone asked you, but no one did.

“Don’t you want the shop set up for tomorrow?” You figured it was worth a try. Physical labor was better than standing around wanting to pick your eyes out. “I can go home and get everything ready! Then when the festival is over you all can just go to bed.” A large smile crossed your face.

He watched you for a moment, outwardly caught off guard by your request since you weren’t the one to offer to do anything. A pondering second later, he agreed. “Fine, but if you finish early come back.”

“Oh, you know I will!” An elated laugh escaped your lips before you shook your head, opting to keep it together so your father wouldn’t have any reason to revoke his side to the agreement.

Not a second sooner, you were off, rushing happily back to your home that was merely yards away. While you wouldn’t be out of the festival’s grasp, you would be able to potentially block it all out. The wooden door slammed behind you as you leaned against it with a relieved huff. Finally.

The sounds of the festivities soon died down as people dispersed into smaller groups to chat individually among the Champions and princess, who was rarely seen around Hyrule without a large entourage of heavily armored men surrounding her. It was a nice gesture for them to come, but none of it mattered to you. The so called “Calamity” hadn’t shown its ugly face near Hateno even though they had been going on and on about it for a few years now. A few older fellows attributed it to some sort of “government conspiracy” and insisted the King had made it up to keep everyone at bay. While you weren’t thrilled with the Champions, you weren’t that crazy.

Slowly but surely, the shop was cleaned and prepped for the busy market day to come. The merchandise sat neatly on the shelves that lined the creaky wooden walls. The money from today’s hours was safely packed away in the chest father kept beneath the floorboards. Everyone’s bed was nicely made with the pillows fluffed perfectly for when they returned home. Everything was done and you could finally relax.

That is, if your younger brother hadn’t burst inside calling your name.

“What?” You peered over the side of the sleeping loft where you had just fallen onto the bed to rest your aching feet. “Grant, I’m tired. Can this wait ‘til tomorrow?”

“Not exactly…” his voice trailed off as he climbed the steps. He kept his tone low as if he was holding a secret that absolutely nobody could hear. “Iris is missing.”

Your heart dropped. “You’re sure she isn’t with the other kids?” Now, with renewed energy, you hopped to your feet and began tugging on your worn shoes. The soles were falling out, the sides needed to be stitched, and the laces were made from rope that came with a tied stack of wheat. They weren’t much, but they worked.

He hastily shook his head back and forth, “She said she was going to grab some flowers from Marblod Plain.”

“You let her go there alone?”

He sulked, an obvious expression of guilt lacing his features. From his glossy eyes to his trembling lip, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “It’s my fault.” He whispered, casting his gaze to the floor.

“What is?”

“I told her to go.”

“Okay, look.” You slung your father’s sword over your shoulder and adjusted his metal shield to your arm. “I’m going to go look for her. I’m going to find her, and then we’re going to have a talk about sending your sister on wild goose chases.”

“Should I tell dad?” Immediately, your focus turned to the window where you could see your father becoming flustered as the Goron Champion, Daruk, flirted casually with your mother. He rubbed the back of his neck, an ecstatic smile never leaving his face. He was a people pleaser.

“No. Either wait here,” You pointed to the bed, “or go outside and wait by mom and dad.”

“I’ll go outside.”

Outside, the noise of the celebration moved forward as if nothing was wrong. Mipha strolled through the town center with a younger man by her side, ignoring the looks they received from a young knight. Link gave a lot of his attention to Zelda who was speaking to one of the elders about the energy source to the north. Revali was patrolling around, not paying a lick of attention to the young group of girls hot on his feathers. Urbosa was valiantly telling of her meetings with the Yiga Clan, actively reenacting a few of her encounters for the group of children before her.

“Don’t tell them, it’ll ruin their night.” Grant nodded and picked at something under his fingernails. He swallowed hard, trying his best to hold back the tears that welled in his eyes. You knelt down and gently tipped his head up to look you in the eyes. “It’s okay. Iris will be fine. Don’t worry too much.” With a soft kiss pressed to his forehead, he perked up. “Go keep mom and dad safe while I’m gone, okay?”

“Okay!” He sniffled, wiping his nose and forcing you into a snotty hug. “I will!” He scurried off back to your parents before turning and slyly giving you a thumbs up with his highest conviction.

With Grant taken care of, you looked to the west where the rolling plains lied. A new structure had appeared there recently whatever it was had to have something to do with Iris’s disappearance. Trekking the miles over was difficult and a five-year-old wouldn’t have been able to go this far alone. At least, not Iris. She was a laid-back kid, scared of absolutely anything and everything that moved. Butterflies, grass, even sometimes her own shadow spooked the living daylights out of the kid. There was no way she went there on her own accord.

The moon was suspended high in the sky by the time you made it to the strange building. Odd-looking creatures were jumping up and down on the third story up, shaking the entire thing. How it wasn’t falling to pieces was beyond you. You could see their own weapons perched on their hips, swinging rapidly with each jump.

The night would be your friend in this instance, providing an ample cover as you inched your way up to the first level where your first foe was lying on it’s back, fast asleep.

Revali didn’t particularly enjoy taking part in the festivities that came with being a Champion. Though, he did enjoy showing off for a few minutes before becoming disenchanted by the crowding fans and young girls that seemed to think they had a shot with the Rito warrior. After he finished telling of the Village from where he came, he grew bored of the situation and decided strolling through the town at a heightened pace would be better suited for his tiring attention.

He spotted them. A girl who was evidently a year or two younger than he kneeled with her back to him, speaking in hushed tones to a child who looked worried sick. He wouldn’t have taken notice to her if she hadn’t had a sufficiently sized sword strapped to her back and a shield to boot strapped to her arm. Something was up, and Revali wished to be in the know. The girl wished the child farewell and took off over the small bridge leading to another home but didn’t stop there. Instead, she continued onward to the west hiking through the grassy lands of Necluda towards Faron.

She wasn’t packed for a long journey, so he could rule her out as being a traveler. There was no way she’d survive without any food. There was no conclusive rhyme or reason as to her departure from Hateno into the wild. That was, until he saw where she was headed.

Perched upon the cliff-side, Revali observed as the girl crouched down in the grass that provided descent cover. She slinked up the steps of the outpost. He prepared himself to become her knight in shining armor; he expected a true fairytale moment as he positioned himself to swoop in and safe the damsel in distress. What he hadn’t expected was her to wield the old sword with such agility, such grace, that the first foe was cut down in seconds. He watched in awe as she moved quietly up the steps to take on the two that were formulating their master plan for her arrival. She disarmed them even faster.

In no time, the outpost was clear of any danger and the girl was sitting at the top with another crying child in her arms. She caressed the girl’s hair, pressing relieved kisses to the top of her head as the child’s wails filled the air.

“Shh.” You held Iris who was a mess. Her nose hadn’t stopped running since you found her, her eyes were puffy and red, and her fingernails were nothing but nubs from where she had been biting. “You can’t go running off like that.”

“I… I k..know…” She wept, soft hick-ups escaping her parted lips as she tried to garner the strength for a smile. “I just��just wanted…”

“This?” An unfamiliar voice had you on guard, quickly rising to your feet, pushing Iris behind you, and grabbing your sword. The tip brushed against the assailant’s throat, dancing lightly on his feathers, the moonlight casting a reflection on his face. “It’s rather rude to threaten my life in such a way.”

He held his ground well, not faltering as he used a finger to push away your sword. “Sorry.” You mumbled, returning the metal to its hilt. It was Revali.

“Here.” He held the blue flower out to your sister who hesitantly inched forward. The five sectioned flower swayed slightly in the breeze; the soft petals brushed with a gradient of blue to white. “For you.”

Taking the flower from him, a smile spread across her face as her features lit up. “Thank you!”

“And,” he turned to you, standing tall, “for you.” He held another flower out to you. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, you skeptically took the flower despite everything urging you to tell him to buzz off. How long had this pompous bird been here and why hadn’t he helped?

“Thank you.” You gritted out for the sake of your sister who was jovially staring with wide exploring eyes at the bird. “C’mon, Iris. Let’s head back.”

“Hold on.” Revali jut out a wing to stop you from heading down the rickety steps. “Allow me to escort the two of you back. It’s the least I could do.”

“I think we’ll be fine, thanks.”

----

Iris jumped up and down joyously as she prepared to get her first ever flight. It was a big moment for her and with the mode of transport being a Champion, it made it life changing. Revali could only carry one at a time and you both agreed that Iris should go first as leaving her here would be less than keen. She hopped onto Revali’s back and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. The Champion took off and disappeared into the air.

You scanned the top deck, a poorly constructed bow catching your attention. You had never shot a bow before and what better time to figure it out than now? Father had never let you play with the weapons in the house. In fact, if he knew you were using his sword and shield, he would be irate. The grip on the bow was unfortunate. It was far too big for your hands and the arrows were all off balance. After a few went flying off in the opposite direction from which they were fired, you gave up.

“An expert swordsman but I’d have to say,” the voice surprised you as you hadn’t expected him back so soon, “your marksmanship is,” he tilted his head back, “meager.”

“Hateno doesn’t exactly have the bows that Rito Village has.” You nodded to the bow he had strapped to his back.

A moment of silence passed between the two of you, neither one wanting to gather the courage to continue the conversation. What were you supposed to say to him anyway? “I don’t really care about the title you hold or whoever you think you are.”

“Why didn’t you alert anyone to her missing?” It was a simple question with a simple answer. But it wasn’t an answer you wanted to say out loud, so instead you shrugged. “Darling,” he tilted his head, “I may be a bird, but I assure you I wasn’t born yesterday. Was it jealousy?”

“Excuse you?” You felt heat rise through your cheeks.

“Jealousy.” He restated. “The Champions were receiving too much praise and you wanted a cut. Simple as that.”

You contemplated what you would say next. “Fuck off.” No. Too forward. Too rude. “I don’t do things expecting something out of it.” No. You’d have to explain yourself further with that one. Instead of replying you shook your head and let out a chuckle, then began down the steps figuring he’d just take off and head back on his own.

He remained persistent and on your heels. “Oh, come on. Don’t be coy. At least allow me to take you home. Your family is worried sick.”

“Then they’ll be happy when I walk home.”

“You’ll tire yourself by walking. Allow me to,” you cut him off. “No.”

The festival was over by the time you returned home. The streamers and lanterns were taken down, the lit fires of the community cooking pots were extinguished, and the lights in most houses were darkened. Even your house was quiet. They hadn’t waited for you. Biting the hurt you felt back, you made your way home with Revali nearby. The Champions were all staying in the Inn for the night having rented the entire building out. Urbosa was the only one still out.

“Are you alright?” She came to meet the two of you as you threw Revali a look. He finally shut up.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” You excused yourself from the Gerudo Champion.

Revali watched with Urbosa as the girl crept to the side of the home. She plopped herself down on the ground and dished a towel from the bucket of water positioned on a table. He sighed. There was something intriguing about her. She was like no other town girl he had met through all of his traveling. How he had managed to miss her in all of his trips to Hateno floored him. Urbosa smirked as she saw a new side to her feathered friend. His change in demeanor was obvious and his reasoning was more obvious.

“Revali,” Urbosa started, “I must say, I didn’t expect you to be this type.”

“What type?” He tore his eyes from her as she wiped down the weapons. The two began walking back to the Inn together.

“You’re just going to leave her alone now?”

His expression turned to one of confusion. “Why would I use up more of my time to deal with such things?”

Urbosa raised her brows, amused. “Oh.” She brushed her hair from her shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“Urbosa,” Revali said in his usual cutting crisp tone, “I can assure you that I have absolutely no interest in someone like her.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

#revali x reader #revali x you #revali #botw #reader insert #loz #loz fanfic #botw fanfic #fanfiction #breath of the wild #rito #botw revali #revali botw #loz botw #botw imagines

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ljones41 · 5 years ago

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"CHARMED RETROSPECTIVE: The Death of Dr. Williamson"

"CHARMED RETROSPECTIVE: THE DEATH OF DR. WILLIAMSON" I just recently finished watching the Season Two episode from ”CHARMED” titled (2.20) "Astral Monkey" . There were some things that were said in this episode that really pissed me off. And all of my complaints centered around the character of Dr. Curtis Williamson.

Curtis Williamson had first appeared in an earlier Season Two episode called (2.12) "Awakened". In it, the second Charmed One sister, Piper Halliwell, became infected with a deadly disease called Arroyo Fever after eating some South American fruit she had purchased to serve at her club, P3. After her sisters (Prue and Phoebe) and later whitelighter Leo Wyatt had cured her by using magic, Williamson became obsessed in discovering the reason behind Piper’s miraculous recovery from a disease that had no cure. In "Astral Monkey", Williamson’s obsession not led him to continuously contact Piper by letter, but use the Halliwells’ blood drawn by the doctor in "Awakened" to experiment on a trio of monkeys kept in his lab. Eventually, the Halliwells and Leo learned about Dr. Williamson’s experiments after the monkey with Prue’s abilities managed to astral project into the manor. Piper, Prue and Phoebe went to the hospital to examine Dr. Williamson’s laboratory and Leo consulted with his superiors, the Elders, after they discovered that the Charmed Ones’ blood had been accidentally injected into Dr. Williamson and he ended up with their abilities. The following is what Leo had to say on the matter: Piper: So what's the bad news? Leo: Well, simply put, Dr. Williamson is cosmically screwed. He's got your powers in his mortal body. It took generations to prepare you for that, you can handle it, he can't. Mortal body? Once again, the audience are led to believe that the Halliwells are not mortals. And yet, the series has proven time and again that they were. This point was specifically made in the Season Three episode, (3.22) "All Hell Breaks Loose", when Piper died from a gunshot wound in the first timeline before the demon Tempus changed it on behalf of the Source and the whitelighter Elders. Returning back to the article's topic, the following comment made by Leo really pissed me off: Phoebe: Wait, are you saying that our powers are in our blood and he injected himself with it? Leo: That blood, yeah. See, the spell that you cast to cure Piper changed everything and now it's changing Dr. Williamson. See, your magic is meant for doing good but in the wrong person, somebody not ready for it, that need to do good things . . . Piper: Could go bad? Leo: Real bad. Piper, it's nobody's fault. Dr. Williamson chose his own path. This is not the consequence of anybody's actions except his own. Still, you have to find a way to stop him before things get worse. One, Leo had claimed that the spell Prue and Phoebe had used to cure Piper in "Awakened" was partly responsible for the Halliwells' abilities affecting Dr. Williamson . . . which makes no sense to me. But it got worse. Leo further claimed that none of them - Piper, Prue, Phoebe, and himself - were not responsible for Williamson’s abuse of their abilities and the latter’s effect upon him. Only Williamson was to blame. Leo . . . Let me take a deep breath, here. Showrunner Constance Burge and David Simkins, who wrote "Astral Monkey", really got the whitelighter’s character down pat in this episode. It seemed quite obvious – at least to me – that Leo’s feelings for Piper have constantly led him to spout stupid lies in order to placate any negative feelings she or her sisters might be experiencing. In "Astral Monkey", she felt guilty for failing to respond to his letters about her recovery from Arroyo Fever. She was also upset because he was a mortal that she and her sisters had to kill in order to save others. Not once did Piper feel upset that her act of greed in "Awakening" had led to this situation with Williamson. After listening to Leo’s attempt to solely blame Williamson over the entire incident, I still find it amazing how fans continue to condemn Brad Kern for some of the series' bad writing, when Burge was also responsible for the crap that popped up during her tenure as executive producer of "CHARMED". And I am condemning Burge for an act that Kern eventually committed with great consistency in the series’ future – namely give the Halliwells slack for some of their questionable actions? Yes, I am. Why? Because Burge did the same in regard to what happened in "Awakened and "Astral Monkey". I am quite certain that Curtis Williamson had been partially responsible for the violence he had committed in "Astral Monkey", while using the Halliwells' powers. After all, he became obsessed with finding the source of Piper's "miraculous" cure from Arroyo Fever in "Awakened". Even the hospital’s Chief of Staff, Dr. Jeffries, had warned him to allow the matter to drop. But the Halliwells and Leo should have accepted some of the blame over the entire situation. And Burge refused to allow this to happen in her script. Back in "Awakened", Prue and Phoebe used magic to cure Piper’s fever, when they should not have done so in the first place. After the pair reversed the spell and Piper fell ill for the second time, Leo stepped in and cured her . . . when he should not have done so. Because of Prue, Phoebe and Leo’s actions, Piper managed to avoid facing the consequences of her actions. And it was Piper who had started this whole mess in motion when she became greedy and decided to purchase South American fruit that had not been inspected by U.S. Customs. She had committed a Federal crime and did not pay any consequences, aside from P3 being shut down by health officials . . . for one day. One fucking day. It had been bad enough when Vivian and Valerie Mayhew’s script for "Awakened" had failed to allow Piper face any legal ramifications from the U.S. government for her act of greed. After all, the episode never mentioned any legal fines and as I had earlier pointed out, P3 had only been closed for a day . . . before Leo cured her. But in the story for "Astral Monkey", Constance Burge had failed to bring up all of the Halliwells and Leo’s past transgressions from the other episode. Instead, she decided to lay all of the blame on Williamson's shoulders. Prue and Phoebe did not even seem the worse for wear following Williamson's death at the end of the episode. As for Piper, she only felt guilty for not being able to save Williamson and for failing to respond to his letters in the first place. Not once did the episode’s script allow Piper to express any guilt for allowing her greed in "Awakened" to set everything in motion. For two episodes considered to among the best from Season Two by the series’ fans, I find it interesting that both managed to fill me with disgust from its portrayals of the main characters. Even worse, the only character who ended up facing consequences from questionable choices happened to be one portrayed by guest star Matthew Glave, who had portrayed Curtis Williamson. And I find it ironic that I have Constance Burge, and not the much maligned Brad Kern, to blame these particular travesties.

#anti charmed #original charmed #anti charmed ones #piper halliwell #holly marie combs #prue halliwell #shannen doherty #phoebe halliwell #Alyssa Milano #anti leo wyatt #brian krause #curtis williamson #matthew klave #charmed 2x12 #2x12 awakened #charmed 2x20 #2x20 astral monkey #anti constance burge

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caladhel-iarian · 6 years ago

Text

Talking to Dhel is like going to dinner at Dick’s Last Resort

General Information—— —

FULL NAME: Caladhel Ia’rian.

NICKNAME(S):

Dhel.

Dek.

Hardass.

The Ice Prince.

Smokestack.

Ladle.

Daddy. This is an excellent way to ensure he never talks to you again. Use with caution. And by caution, probably don’t ever call him this if you like his company.

Various other silly, syrupy endearments his brothers come up with on the fly.

TITLE(S):

Crown Prince Caladhel.

Master Caladhel.

Professor Ia’rian.

AGE: 305. Roughly the equivalent of a human in his mid-to-late 30′s.

BIRTHDAY: October 29.

RACE: Highborne. Yes, he has distinctly Sin’dorei colouring. But take a look at his ears, his height, his build, his face--he is not Sin’dorei.

GENDER: Male.

ORIENTATION:

Heteroflexible.

Sapiosexual.

Demisexual.

MARITAL STATUS:

Married to his work.

(He’s single. Good luck changing his mind.)

Physical Appearance—— —

HAIR:

Thick, black as pitch, and silky. Mostly straight, though the jagged ends tend to swoop in all directions. He has two long strands that drape over his shoulders and touch his abs, long bangs (often swept to one side in a ponytail), and the rest is a choppy mess.

EYES:

The irises are a rich chocolate brown with gold flecks. If they didn’t glow lime green, they’d resemble a deeper, darker tiger’s eye stone held up to the sunlight.

His eyes are narrow and almond-shaped, and they slant up at the outer corners. They’re also rimmed in black lashes thick enough and long enough to make many women envious.

HEIGHT: 8′ even. He’s a big boy.

BUILD:

Many students express surprise when first confronted by this professor. They expect withered, hunched old men with beards longer than table runners, or frail, fragile dolls who would shatter in a stiff breeze. Instead, they get an enormous, broad-shouldered elf who looks like he could probably swim the entire Great Ocean without getting winded.

While he’ll never resemble a walking refrigerator, if you catch him naked, you’ll find plenty of lean, defined muscle. Dhel has a swimmer’s build.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS:

A lip piercing that he doesn’t always wear.

Glasses. If he’s not wearing contacts, he’s wearing his glasses. Otherwise, he can’t see his hand in front of his face.

Tattoos. Many, many tattoos.

Knotty scars around his ankles, his heels, and his soles.

He has a birthmark on the tip of his right big toe; it resembles a bird with wings spread.

Both cheeks dimple when he smiles.

His smile is crooked; the left side of his mouth pulls up higher.

You’ll rarely see him without a cigarette and a cloud of purple smoke hanging around.

TATTOOS: Left arm:

Family crest on the inside of his forearm (a massive tree on a hill with the sun rising behind it).

Infinity symbol curling around his wrist. It looks like a musical staff.

Musical staff around his bicep. The staff contains notation and a few lyrics.

A trio of fox kits chase a red butterfly down the outside of his forearm.

Right arm:

Azure cloud serpent Ouroboros on the outside of his forearm.

Marionette with cut strings on the outside of his bicep.

Words from his favourite poem on the inside of his forearm.

Fleur de lis on the inside of his wrist.

A Punch ‘n Judy stage with the titular characters on the inside of his bicep.

From his neck down, he is covered in runic tattoos that are only visible when he uses magic. They glow a vivid violet during his spellcasting.

PIERCINGS: A lower lip piercing. He doesn’t always wear it.

COMMON ACCESSORIES:

Cigarettes.

Pen and paper.

Eyeglasses.

A mithril ring on a simple silver chain around his neck. The ring is shaped like an ivy vine set with emerald leaves and tiny moonstone flowers.

A string of jade prayer beads wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet.

Books.

A briefcase and/or messenger bag filled with folders. The folders contain assignments he needs to grade and outlines for future assignments he can give his students.

Personal Information—— —

PROFESSION(S):

Crown Prince and Heir Apparent.

Vocalist, pianist, and lyricist for the rock band, Dysphoria.

Adjunct professor for the Sunfury Spire (Silvermoon) and the Violet Academy (Dalaran).

He teaches World Mythology, Ancient Runes, and Advanced Evocation for the older students during the fall term, and general education for the kiddies during spring and fall terms.

On occasion, he also teaches ballroom dancing as an afterschool elective.

HOBBIES:

Collecting books.

Reading everything he can get his hands on.

Writing poetry and short stories he never publishes.

Ice sculpting.

Working on the book he does plan to publish.

Traveling and urban exploration.

Baiting people with harsh banter.

Tutoring kids.

Tea ceremony (both teaching and indulging in).

Making paper lanterns.

Solitary walks.

Playing piano.

Pointing out all your faults.

SKILL(S):

Natural inclination for frost magic.

Conjuration.

Evocation.

Singing.

Playing piano.

Undefeated champion of hide and seek.

Making people upset.

Making people cry.

Born to teach.

Martyrdom.

Being an asshole. He’s real good at it.

Likes to think he’s great with words.

Despite how acerbic he is around adults, he’s fantastic with kids.

Observant. Probably too observant.

Analytical to the point of paranoia.

Pointing out your flaws.

Hypocrisy.

Scrying.

Making a damn good cup of tea.

He’s a walking, insulting bag of dicks, but he’s surprisingly good at picking out gifts for people.

Getting pissed off faster than you can blink.

Fashion. The man’s a snappy dresser. Just as snappy as his mouth.

LANGUAGE(S):

Thalassian.

Darnassian (ancient and modern).

Shalassian.

Gutterspeech.

Taurahe.

Common.

Zandali.

Pandaren.

Orcish.

RESIDENCE:

He owns a penthouse apartment in Silvermoon. It’s located near the Court of the Sun and he shares it with both Lin and Bren--and the rest of his family whenever they come to visit.

He also has a penthouse apartment in Dalaran, smack in the middle of Runeweaver Square.

In the Brydydd Theatre outside Tranquillien (Ghostlands), an entire suite of rooms has been set aside for him.

Back in his homeland, he still has his private suite in the royal palace.

BIRTHPLACE: Sunset Palace on Skyfire Isle. It sits at the end of Morning Glory Lane in the capital city of Berl’din Mor.

RELIGION: He’s about as religious as a rock.

Relationships—— —

SPOUSE:

Unmarried--whether by choice or because no one can put up with his acid tongue, who knows?

If you’re interested in getting him down the aisle, best of luck to you.

CHILDREN:

None at the moment. But he’d love to have a large family of his own.

Because his genes are just as dominant as the rest of him, if he ever knocked a woman up, she can expect that her first child will be children, either twin boys or triplet sons. His line has bred true in this fashion for countless generations.

PARENTS:

Taenaran Ia’rian (father).

Sumire Ia’rian nee Ker’anith (mother).

SIBLINGS: In order of age:

Calaglin Ia’rian (triplet and elder brother by two minutes).

Calabren Ia’rian (triplet and younger brother by two minutes).

Ylinderwyn Ia’rian (sister).

Kethian Ia’rian (sister).

Istaunna Ia’rian (sister).

Kouwin Ia’rian (brother and twin to Kouyuu).

Kouyuu Ia’rian (brother and twin to Kouwin).

Yenchul Ia’rian (brother and twin to Tevryn).

Tevryn Ia’rian (adopted brother and twin to Yenchul).

Phirayaela Ia’rian (sister).

OTHER RELATIVES: Too many to name here. Suffice to say, he comes from an enormous clan and holidays are busy. Both his grandmothers are still living, as well as his many-times great-grandmother.

PETS: N/A

Traits—— —

•extroverted / introverted / in between.

•disorganized / organized / in between.

•close minded / open-minded / in between.

•calm / anxious / in between.

•disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

•cautious / reckless / in between.

•patient / impatient / in between.

•outspoken / reserved / in between.

•leader / follower / in between.

•empathetic / indifferent / in between.

•optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

•traditional / modern / in between.

•hard-working / lazy / in between.

•cultured / uncultured / in between.

•loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between.

•assertive / timid / in between

Additional Information—— —

SMOKING: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never/ sometimes / frequently / to excess.

Extra—— —

FACECLAIM(S): Aoi of the GazettE (Shiroyama Yuu). But mostly, I just draw him.

VOICE CLAIM(S): His own, I suppose.

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic.

NAME PRONUNCIATION: Caladhel

CULL-uh-dell

CULL-ay-dull is also a possible pronunciation, but this is considered obscure and doesn’t really see use anymore.

Ia’rian

YAH-ree-ahn

IN GAME NAME:

I don’t really play WoW anymore, but if you’re interested in him and you play Final Fantasy XIV, you can find him on Balmung under the name Kaito Fujiwara.

Otherwise, you can hit me up on Discord. Ask me for it. But be warned that I am slow to respond both because I have projects to work on and I make drafts of all my posts; I want to give you the best I can write.

OTHER:

You May Know Them If:

You’re a fan of music and you follow any bands around Azeroth and/or Eorzea. He and his band have been featured a few times in a popular music magazine called “Azerothian Axes.”

You’re a Magister/Magistrix. He’s part of the Conclave of Mages in Silvermoon and a decorated war veteran.

You ever attended classes at the Sunfury Spire or the Violet Academy; he’s taught there for several years now.

You also teach classes at either of these locations.

You’ve been to music concerts, including the concerts held each month in the Darkmoon Faire. He and his band have performed on this stage.

You’re friends with a girl who’s had her heart broken by this icy bastard and you’re out for some revenge.

You grew up in Silvermoon and played with the other kids. He’s probably kicked your ass at hide and seek.

Rp Hooks:

Find him in a bookstore and he’s more likely to be mellow enough to carry on a conversation with you. He likes books. Get him talking about them.

Find him in his favourite cafe in Silvermoon and he’s probably sitting at a table alone, grading student papers. Be smart in your approach and he’s less likely to try to bite your head off. Tea is a good way to get him interested.

If you’re a fan of his band/music, interact with him after the show. Approach him during the meet and greet. Just be sure he’s around his brothers or he’ll probably say some unpleasant things. And for the love of all that is holy, don’t bring him gifts. Or do, if you’re the sort of person who really enjoys conflict.

If you’ve ever taken one of his classes, talk to him. Ask him about his lectures. It’s a surefire way to get his attention and if you can speak with him intelligently, you’ll get on his good side. Or at least not on his “I wish you’d fall off the face of this planet” side.

Are you the adventurous, treasure-seeking type? Meet him on one of his journeys to collect ancient knowledge from ruined cities and tombs. Just be wary of his brothers lurking in the shadows.

Have kids who are fond of wandering off when you’re a little distracted? They are a bazillion percent safe with Dhel. Let your kid approach him and they’ll find a stern but gentle caretaker who will protect them while he helps them find their lost parent/sibling/nanny/governor. Just be ready for him to give you a tongue lashing for being an inattentive adult. And definitely do not call him “daddy” unless you never want to see him again.

Dhel is pointing out your flaws.

#character knowledge #lfc page #triplets #Caladhel #Dhel #world of warcraft roleplay #world of warcraft rp

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companionhell · 6 years ago

Note

Could you do (romanced) Companions reacting to sole survivor dying in their arms from protecting them? (Including maxson, and gage?)

Cait: Shite! This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t stop the blood in time, so Cait just ran her hands through Sole’s hair, both to comfort herself and the love of her life. Her treasure, her lover, her heart… Cait couldn’t stand the thought of losing them, but here they were, bleedin’ out and Cait couldn’t do shite to stop it. “Sole, are ya fuckin’ daft?” She was tearing up now, but trying to hold it together. Cait hadn’t cried for years. “I told you to be careful, darlin’. This ain’t fuckin’ careful!” Sole chuckled at that, and Cait was angry, furious at the world for letting this happen, at Sole for taking that bullet, at herself for not being sure she’d do the same and letting the best thing that’d ever happened to her die in her arms. And then they were gone, and they were probably the first person Cait lost who she fucking cared about, and Cait didn’t know how to deal with it.

Curie: Curie hated violence. She hated how the Commonwealth had become a hierarchy of ruthlessness, and part of what drew her to Sole was that they were different. They were kind and just and understanding, and helped Curie make sense of a strange and complicated world with her new body. And Curie never hated violence more than when she cradled Sole’s head in her lap, tears freely flowing down her face, and knew that she wouldn’t be able to save them. They’d paid the price for Curie’s inexperience in battle, her dislike of fighting. She’d planned to travel with them for years to come, to navigate the Commonwealth with her steady Sole by her side, and as those plans came to an abrupt halt, Curie felt a devastating grief, a simultaneous tightness and hollowness in her heart. “Adieu, mon amour,” Curie whispered, brushing a light kiss to Sole’s foreheard and feeling them fade away. “Je t’aime.”

Danse: No, this was… he couldn’t… goddamnit, Danse had caused enough deaths. Several lives already weighed on his conscience, affecting his decisions, his dreams, his faith in himself, his every waking moment, but now… The person who’d stood up to Maxson for Danse, who’d accepted his identity, who’d saved him from his own spiral of loneliness and self-deprecation, they’d died for Danse as well. He traced their face with his thumb, trying with futility to comfort them in their last few moments in the Commonwealth, and then they were gone. Danse had lost Sole and was struck with the devastating fact that without them, he was truly alone in the world. He was just a collection of missing pieces glued together by a sense of duty, and that never seemed more glaringly obvious than now. Danse was lost. He had nowhere, no one, to return to. Without Sole by his side, the man didn’t know what he’d do.

Deacon: Deacon tried to convince Sole and himself that they weren’t dying. “Come on, you’ll make it through. You’re tough, remember?” It was bullshit, though, complete bullshit, and they both knew it. And as Sole took their last breaths, Deacon found himself spilling his guts, as last-minute retribution for all the lies and because they deserved to know. He told them that he loved them, that he didn’t say it often enough, and that he’d been afraid to get close to them but now he wished he’d done it sooner. Deacon talked himself through all the barriers he put up and all the earlier contradictory words, because he had the opportunity and because he wished he’d had it for Barbara. But eventually he was only speaking to a body, the shell of the person he’d been terrified to admit he loved, and the guilt and the self-hatred and that mind-numbing rage settled in. Whoever did this would be dead soon, and Deacon would figure out what came next, but he’d hate himself more with every minute Sole’s life bought him.

Gage: Gage didn’t do grief. Generally speaking, he hated people. He didn’t really give a shit if anyone died, beyond what that death meant for raider gang dynamics. That’s why it was so fucking terrifying when he was holding Sole before they checked out, and Gage realized he was actually… what, scared? Something like it. “That was stupid, boss,” he said, trying to sound jokingly derisive but coming out sadder than he knew he felt. “Shouldn’t’ve taken a bullet for me. Shoulda just considered it and jumped outta the way.” Sole could hear him, Gage knew, but they only had the strength to smile weakly, and fuck, he couldn’t take seeing someone so strong reduced to just another body on the pavement. The only person Gage had really cared for in his entire goddamn adult life, and they were gone. He couldn’t do nothin’ about it, neither, or about how much he missed them- Gage couldn’t cope with this shit.

Hancock: Look, Hancock meant it when he said that his place was by Sole’s side. Meeting Sole was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, and it hurt to see them dying because Hancock wasn’t quick enough on the uptake. He’d have been happy to take that bullet for them, but instead he was stuck watching someone he cared deeply for suffer. So though Hancock knew that Sole didn’t have much longer, he still spoke to them, trying to give them some hope. “Don’t think you get to leave me just yet, sunshine,” he said, his usual relative joviality giving way to a deep sadness. But Sole did leave him, and Hancock was again without a place or a purpose, only with a raging sense of injustice at the world’s workings. So many shitty people in the Commonwealth, and it was Sole who had to die? Bullshit, just bullshit. All of it.

MacCready: MacCready liked having Sole close. He’d thought it was safer. He’d thought he could protect them easier, be there for them, not be too late like he was for Lucy. But this time, being close was what killed Sole. If he hadn’t always been so reluctant to leave them, even for a few days, if Sole had gone solo on that trip or taken someone else, they might not be lying on the asphalt. It was MacCready’s fault. He should have taken that hit. MacCready tried to apply pressure, to stop the bleeding, but all it did was make Sole wince in pain and cover his hands in his loved one’s blood. “No, no, no, no…” He was already crying and he didn’t even realize it, the tears running down his face as MacCready desperately tried to hold on to the happiness in his life- but a few minutes later, it was too late. “Damn it, Sole! Not again. I can’t…” A sharp intake of breath. “I can’t do it again.”

Maxson: He’d seen many fall in battle. It was part of life as a soldier, as the Elder. Some deaths were inevitable. What mattered was that they were honorable, that they died fighting for something they believed in. Maxson had long told himself that, when he read the lists of men and women lost under his command. Even before, all the way back to Sarah. That was the official Brotherhood mentality. Duty came before sentiment. But Sole’s death was different. He had to watch his lover’s anguished face as they died and carry that memory. They died because of Maxson. Not because of his orders, but because of Maxson. He praised their bravery, gave a solemn eulogy at the ceremony. But that responsibility hung on him, stooping his shoulders behind closed doors and giving him even darker circles beneath his eyes. Sometimes, Maxson could see why some murmured at his ascension that he was too young to be Elder.

Nick: Nick flashed through his own modified stages of grief, even as he sat there, Sole dying before him. “You’re not skipping out on me just yet,” he promised, holding Sole’s hand, but Sole waved away Stim-Paks, instead opting to tell Nick that they loved him, how they didn’t regret saving him. Nick heard their meaning, a deep sadness descending upon him, but he didn’t share it. He wouldn’t spoil Sole’s last few moments. So he made them more comfortable with some blankets and a long kiss on the forehead. The second they were gone, though, Nick was free to close his eyes, consider his depression. He’d known he would likely outlive them, of course, but that future seemed distant except in rare moments of existentialism. And now, Nick’s presence had cut their life short. A living person, one of the best damn people in the Commonwealth, was dead because they valued a beat-up rejected synth prototype more than themselves. And Nick couldn’t forgive himself for it.

Piper: She’d done it again. Piper had always been told to keep her nose away from where it didn’t belong, but she found a gig with Sole, travelling and getting the scoop and accidentally falling in love. It caught up with her, though. If Sole had been alone- not forced to escort a reporter without armor, without significant combat experience- they’d still be alright. And Piper teared up confronting that reality, but tried her best to focus on Sole, whose breathing grew steadily weaker. “Blue, are you… We can patch this up, Blue. Just get you to a doctor, and you’ll be good as new.” Sole shook their head, gripping Piper’s hand before their fingers relaxed, fell to the ground. Piper choked back a sob, closed Sole’s eyes and stayed there, repeating a maxim under her breath. “I’m sorry, Blue. I’m so sorry.” A pause. “I’ll… I’ll watch Shaun for you. I promise.”

Preston: His heart dropped when Sole did. They were his life. They’d saved him with their generosity, with their kindness, reminded Preston that there was more to this world than evil. There was still good, and the good was Sole. But Preston had failed in his role as a high-ranking Minuteman and a companion, just as he had failed the survivors from Quincy, and it made him want to cry. Hell, he was crying. Preston held Sole as close as he could without worsening the injury, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “It’s not as bad as it looks. You’ll be okay.” Sole laughed weakly, called him on his bullshit. In a few dying words, they told Preston what he needed to hear- their hopes for this world, how much they loved him. And then Preston had to face that Sole didn’t make it, that their body was in his arms, and he didn’t know how to handle it. “I love you, too,” he said, hoarse, trying not to think of what would come next.

X6-88: Usually, X6 was fairly disconnected from death. It was like he was watching it from behind a wall of glass, detached from the experience. Courser training was designed to limit empathy- that would affect their effectiveness as hunters, after all. But he’d broken free from some of his training with Sole, cautiously stepped away from the guidelines to feel admiration, content, even… even love. So though it wasn’t necessarily surprising that seeing Sole’s last moments drained X6 more than any prior experience he’d had, the previously unknown emotions hit him like a bullet. There X6 was, holding the only person he’d ever truly cared about, and his chest felt heavy with the grief and the guilt and all the other feelings he’d never felt truly before. It was overwhelming, the shock and the depression, and his skill in coping was limited. He didn’t know how to go on. He’d have to, of course, but… it would be different.

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