#this is not exactly an invitation for Discourse

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Heya love,

Thank you for taking my request! I hardly think you can ever disappoint!

So, Autumn Court is a rather traditional court, and we know how discriminating against females it is.

Picture Rhys and the IC being invited to Autumn for whatever reason may it be. There, he decides to wander through the grounds. Somewhere in a secured area within the forest, he finds a female sitting by herself—too gentle and demure to belong to Autumn.

She’s shy in her discourse and neglects to tell him who she is. Eris pops up suddenly and pries the female away from him in a manner that’s too protective and possessive to be friendly.

Later on, Rhys realizes that this young female is Beron’s only, and youngest daughter. Secluded from prying eyes, Beron has made sure no one knew who she is until he was ready to marry her off.

But when Rhys finds out, and the mating bond snaps for him, he’s ready to fight for her. Going as far as to ask for Eris’ help, who happens to be extremely close and protective of his baby sister.

I hope that was clear enough and not at all confusing. Take your time with it, love! And feel free to change any detail you deem necessary.

Thanks again🩷

This

Is

Perfect!!!!

Thank you so much🤩💕I love it so much that the story started to play in my head on its own and continued even in the dream. Hopefully, you'll like it

Moon princess

Word count: 9600+ (oops)

Warnings: mentions of Beron, court machinations, swear words, but no fights and no blood this time

I'm thinking about writing another part where they are slowly getting to know each other. Which I originaly wanted to add into this one, but tumblr stopped cooperating somewhere around 5k words in, messes up with saved text and takes forever to respond. Message is clear, I guess I have again too many WIPs in drafts. It happens all the time 🙄 Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Rhysand threw the pen on the desk and sighing leaned back in his big leather chair. Since early morning he was sitting in the office, writing letters, reading reports and sorting out complaints according to the urgency. It was already past lunchtime, but he didn't get even half through all the documents. He needed some distraction at least for few minutes.

In the very nick of time, the doors flew open and Cassian casually strode in, a massive sandwich in one hand, a piece of paper in the other one. He held only the corner of it between index finger and thumb, glaring at it as if someone had used it as a tissue.

"So.. What are we going to do with the invitation?" he asked with a full mouth.

"What invitation?" Rhys looked up, tired. This was hardly the kind of distraction he wished for.

"This one," general waved the paper. He flopped down to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "From the Autumn Court."

Rhysand frowned. "I got invitation?" he asked with feigned calm.

"Yup," Cassian took another bite from his sandwich, a bit of dressing dripped on his shirt, but he didn't seem to even notice it. Rhys' mouth twitched.

"Oh, really? And remind me, when exactly did I get it?"

"Few weeks ago. Helion also got one. He wants to know what we assume about it and whether we will accept or no. He's still waiting for the answer by the way."

Rhysand raised brows at him. "So you wrote to Helion."

"Nope, he wrote to you right after getting it."

That was the last drop. Closing eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "I think that we already talked about this at least a million times before, Cass. You can't take my mail, open it, read it and then keep it in your room."

Cassian threw up his hands and the dressing and slice of tomato flew out of the sandwich, landing on Rhys' expensive carpet. Rhysand eyed the stain, blood boiling in his veins.

"I don't do anything like that, bro! You know me. Plus, I don't remember that we've ever talked about such rule."

"That isn't rule I made up. It's called postal secret and privacy. Now bring all my mail! Immediately!"

"Fine, fine," Cassian fumed and rolled his eyes, but at last he stood up, throwing the invitation on the desk and left.

When the doors closed behind him, Rhys flicked his wrist and stain from the carpet disappeared. Then he reached for the invitation and cursed because it was smeared with dressing, too. Rhys licked his dirty fingers, commendably humming and wiped the rest of the dirt with tissue. His stomach loudly rumbled, reminding him that he should head out for some food soon.

He unfolded the paper, quickly scanning the text. Beron was inviting him and his family to a week of festivities on the occasion of a significant announcement. There wasn't written anything else, no more details. Rhysand sighed heavily, drumming with the fingers. His brain coils were working at full speed.

'Significant announcement'

What could it be? Considering that it was Beron, it couldn't be anything good. Because of Cassian, they had last two days left to prepare. He needed to know at least what to expect, so he could work up some plan later.

Azriel?

Claws of his power knocked on Azriel's mental shields. He answered right away, letting him in.

What?

Where are you now? Are you busy?

I'm preparing for the mission we talked about yesterday.

Rhysand considered it for moment, biting on his lower lip. Forget that thing for now or entrust it to someone else. This is urgent.

Azriel answered without hesitation. Fine. Are you in your office?

Rhysand loved how pragmatic Shadowsinger was. No questions. All he needed to hear to drop current job was that it was urgent. He didn't question him. Yes.

I'll be there in a minute.

When Az arrived, half hidden in his shadows as usual, he showed him the invitation and explained the situation. Azriel actually laughed when he heard how Cassian came, asking what was the plan. After that, he immediately disappeared in his shadows, heading to contact the spies they had in Autumn Court.

As expected, Azriel returned shorty before they were supposed to leave for the party. His spies didn't know much, only that Beron was secretly planning something big, the wards around his castle were strengthened and that the frequency of the correspondence between him and Spring Court increased in last two months. There was no time to contact spies in Spring whether they knew something more. Azriel planned to use the time they would spend in the Forest House to spy on Beron and learn more.

It was decided that only Rhys, Az and Cass would go. He didn't even try to ask Mor because he already knew the answer. However, he asked Amren and she clearly refused. She literally said that she would rather give up all her jewellery than listen to a single word of that old, pathetic excuse of a male.

Rhysand winnowed them to the Autumn Court close to the borders of the High Lord's estate. As soon as the world around them stilled, the brisk smell of autumn hit their noses. At gates, a dozen of soldiers stood on guard, armed to the teeth. They eyed them suspiciously, but let them pass. The three of them exchanged look as they stepped in, feeling the strong pressure.

"Putting up so strong wards and then inviting guests, one would think that your High Lord is planning something evil or he got himself a gem of size of his head," Rhys purred, but none of the soldiers even as much as blinked. Pursing lips he nodded. "Sharp guys. I wonder if they would stay still even if we started cutting off their limbs."

"I'm sure they would scream like females," Cassian grinned, folding arms on his chest.

"Are you trying to terrorise our guards, Rhysand?" a sly, bored voice spoke from somewhere behind them. They slowly turned around, arrogant as ever.

"Eris," Rhysand flashed his best cocky smile and shoved hands into pockets. "We are just merely testing them. Since when are heirs on the duty to come to the gates and welcome guests?"

"Ever since the so-called guests are mutts from Night Court," he snarled back, picking non-existent dirt from under fingernails.

Azriel was as always calm and composed, avoiding any attention, but Cassian was his opposite. He straightened up to his full height, squaring his shoulders and gritting teeth. "It's a good custom for the host to respect the guests, especially if they were invited, not to insult them. In Autumn, good manners seem not to be taught though."

Eris didn't react, only scoffed. He turned on the heel and started to walk towards the castle surrounded by reds and yellows. He showed them to their chambers connected by private sitting room, briefly informing them about the time of the evening party and that someone would come to show them the way later.

With a free access to the castle, Azriel didn't waste a minute and as soon as Eris left, he disappeared into the shadows to snoop around.

The party took place in a fancy ballroom. Rhys snorted at the sight of pure opulence, shoving hands into his pockets. Everything in this huge room was made of white marble with gold details, including a high vault ceiling. It was so polished that it looked like a mirror.

Autumn aristocracy and several of the High Lords were already here, so Rhys made a show of checking his appearance, keeping his mask of ruthless arrogance.

He had to admit that Beron knew how to show off his wealth. Massive golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, flooding room with bright light. In the vases next to each marble pillar around the perimeter of the room were big bouquets of flowers made out of gold and copper. The start of the party was planned for the sunset, so the whole room looked like made of gold. Amren would love this for sure.

Rhysand wouldn't let it show on his face, but inside he felt sick. It was overdone and suffocating. And he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Cassian was openly showing his disgust, Azriel scanned the surrounding from under his frowning brows, arms crossed on his chest.

"Finally some friendly faces and my favourite ones," a rich playful voice boomed on their left. Azriel rolled his eyes, not bothering to even look at the coming person and murmuring something about the need of a strong drink, he left. Rhysand with a cocky smile turned in time to see Helion, the High Lord of Day Court, giving a hug to Cassian.

"Good to see you, friend," he purred.

Helion hooked a muscular arm around his shoulders and winked. "What do you say about the host's taste?" he pointed with his chin to the ballroom, speaking lowly only for his ears.

"I say you must feel like home here," Rhys snorted.

Helion pursed his full lips, thinking about it. "Not really. But the drinks are good here," he swirled the golden liquid in his glass and waved them, already heading to the crowd. "I hope to see you later in the privacy of your room, so we can catch up."

Rhysand gave him just nod and his eyes turned to the dais in the same moment as High Lord of Autumn with his wife and sons appeared. Rhysand tried to keep his face emotionless as his eyes fell to the Lady of Autumn. He hated to see the visibly mistreated female, something about her reminding him of his late mother even though unlike Lady of Autumn she was strong and wild and didn't let his father to treat her badly. Maybe it was the motherly vibes they both shared.

He rather averted his gaze to the gathered crowd and half listening to Beron's speech, let his powers lurk around, looking for any useful information he could get from these people. His violet-blue eyes searched for Tamlin, the High Lord of Spring, between the High Lords. Maybe if he played it off well, he could find out more about the business Autumn and Spring were cooking up, but his golden hair and tall figure were nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, Beron finished his boring speech with a promise of the big announcement on the end of this week of festivities. Rhysand despised the idea of waiting for the whole week. He needed to know what was going on in order the prepare for it, eventually come up with plan to sabotage it. The sooner he knew, the better.

He tried to find Azriel's mind in the crowd to give him orders, but with satisfaction he realized that Shadowsinger wasn't anywhere nearby, most likely already snooping around High Lord's quarters where he intended to send him. That male was a real workaholic.

As the evening progressed, Rhysand got even more bored. Chat with other invited High Lords led to nothing as none of them wanted to discuss anything of real importance at place where they could be easily heard by wrong persons. Cassian was cleaning plates, Azriel was who-knows-where and even Eris seemed to slip out to the night.

In need of fresh, cool air he moved to the terrace and then down to the gardens, looking for a quiet, dark corner where he could blow out the steam. The sounds of party slowly grew distant, number of guests on an evening stroll decreased. Rhysand didn't want to be disturbed, so he walked more deeper into the dark gardens. Thinking that he found the secluded place he needed, he looked around, noticing guards pacing on the edge where gardens turned into a forest. That piqued his interest. What could possibly be worth of guarding in the forest?

He merged with the night, getting pass the guards unnoticed. It was too easy and thus it was no fun. He hoped for at least a small hitch to make tonight interesting. Hopefully, whatever was hidden there, would be worth of the effort and provide him with some sort of excitement.

He dragged through the forest looking right and left, searching for something that didn't fit in. After half an hour he was ready to call it off, marking it as a great waste of time, when he noticed a soft light behind the thick bush. Carefully stalking closer, he stayed hidden in the darkness of autumn forest and took a look around.

There, hidden behind bushes and trees, spread out a clearing bathing in the cool silver light of full moon and in the middle of that on a fallen tree trunk sat the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Her petite figure with soft features and porcelain skin glowed in the night. Dark brown silky hair fell in waves to her tiny waist. Dressed up in light, white dress that reflected the moonlight, surrounded by hundreds of fireflies, the small female looked like being of another world. Devouring that fragile beauty, he suddenly remembered the bedtime story mother used to tell him, his most favourite one. How could he forget it?

The story was about Moon Princess who spent her entire life, night after night watching Fae live, dance, laugh and love. Her desire to spend at least one day with them and experience the same things they did, grew so strong that she got sick, slowly fading away. When her father, Moon King, learnt about her desire, he decided to grant her her wish in order to save life of his only daughter. And so Moon Princess descended from the moon to the clearing in the deep forest, instantly feeling better.

At that time, young prince happened to be in the forest on his way back home, witnessing her descent. He immediately fell in love with her and took her to his castle. Gradually, she fell in love with the prince, but when the month her father granted her was coming to its end, she became sad and again fell ill. Her father couldn't stand to see his daughter suffer so much and allowed her to stay with her prince. After some time they got married, had a lot of children and grew old together.

When Rhys was younger, he dreamt about finding his own Moon Princess and having his happily ever after with her. Seeing this gentle creature in the woods now, he felt like he was witness of descent of Moon Princess he waited for. She took the air from his lungs and captivated his heart. Before he knew what he was doing, he stepped out from the shadows. Not wanting to scare her off, he cleared his throat, making as much noise as possible on his way to the fallen trunk.

Despite his efforts, she winced, covering lips like petal of rose flower with her delicate hands with elegant long fingers. Her doe eyes of colour of deepest sea gazed up at him. Recovering from the initial shock, she blushed, readying to run away.

"Don't! Please, stay. I mean no harm," he raised both of his hands, trying to calm her down. She was like a frightened animal. Rhysand assumed it would be for the best if he introduced himself.

"I'm Rhysand and I'm guest of the High Lord of Autumn. I was just on a walk when I noticed you sitting here alone. Are you lost?"

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

"What Court are you from? I happen to know all High Lords. I can help you get to the right one."

"I'm.. from here," she spoke shyly, her voice sounded to him like the sweetest melody. He swallowed hard, his palms sweating. What was wrong with him? He was feared High Lord who had more lovers in his life than he could count, yet he felt like inexperienced youngling.

"Can.. can I sit down here with you?" he asked out of breath.

How pathetic, Rhysand, he scolded himself. You finally found female of your dreams and you behave like total idiot. Bravo! She will certainly fall for you and agree to meet you again. You need to come with something better than this.

She bit on her lower lip, considering it, but at last she nodded, moving as far from him as she could. Rhys put on his most dazzling and kindest smile and sat down next to her. She blushed even more.

"The moon tonight is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, my lord, I suppose it is."

Rhysand snorted. "I'm not your lord. Please, call me Rhysand or just Rhys if you want. How should I call you?"

Female nervously fidgeted her fingers. "I think I should go." She was about to stand up.

Rhys' hand shot up instinctively, his fingers firmly but gently wrapped around her wrist. Mother above, she was so small and fragile like a porcelain doll. "Please, stay. I understand. No names."

She weakly twisted her wrist in his grasp and he let her go. She sat back down and Rhys sighed with relief, licking his lips. He wanted to make her speak more, yearning to listen to her voice from now until the end of his life.

"Do you come out here often?"

"I'm not allowed to go out much," she whispered hardly audibly, her shoulders slumped.

"How so?" Rhys asked with concern, his gaze again roaming over her petite body. However, he didn't get the answer.

Eris emerged from between the trees, his features twisted in anger.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed and taking female's hand yanked her to his chest. He looked her up and down, checking her for any injury quite roughly.

"Hey! Stop treating her like that! You are hurting her, asshole," Rhysand couldn't stop himself, his mask naturally slid down to its place and he was again fearsome High Lord. He stood up baring his teeth, ready to fight him off if necessary. He wouldn't mind to even kill him to protect this Moon Princess, as he decided to call her until she told him her name, and maybe even after that.

Female's eyes widened at him, but she didn't dare to say a word.

"How did you get here, Rhysand?! This is a private place where guests aren't allowed. If anything, the fact that guards stand at entrance to the forest, should make it more than clear."

"And you," he turned to the female. "What did you do here with this bastard? Why didn't you immediately leave when he appeared? If he finds out what happened here, we both will have a serious problem! Do you even understand that?"

"I'm so sorry. I wanted to leave, but.." she mumbled, cringing, her face pale.

"But what?! Return to your room! Now!"

"I don't know and don't even care who she is to you, but I won't allow you to talk like that with her," Rhys grabbed front of Eris's shirt, staring him down. He was only a few inches taller than the Autumn heir, though the effect was the same.

Female gaped at him in shock, but as soon as Eris let go of her arm, she backed few steps, then turned around and ran away. Rhys wanted to ran after her to make sure she wasn't hurt, but he banned himself to even move. His outburst was bad enough, giving out too much.

They stared at each other, heaving.

"Back off, Rhysand!" Eris snarled lowly.

"No!" he growled back. "Who is she?"

"That's none of your business," Eris glared at him, unmoved.

"Now when I met her, it is my business. I won't just stand by and watch someone hurt females for absolutely no reason."

Pushing him away, Eris burst into fit of laughter. "Good joke, Rhysand, really. Maybe you should clean up your own yard before you start poking your nose into other people's affairs." With that he left, heading in the same direction as the female.

Rhys just stood there, taken aback, gazing after his receding back. He didn't want to admit it, but Eris was right. There was still too much to improve in his Court, but that didn't mean Eris had any right to point it out. In this regard, Autumn wasn't any better than Night.

Later that night Rhysand was pacing in their sitting room, while Azriel and Cassian watched him from couch with concern.

"Don't you want to finally tell us where you disappeared?" Cassian groaned, sipping his drink.

"Did you find anything out?" Azriel added. Ever since he returned he was frowning, angry that he not only couldn't find anything useful, but also that Beron's office and chambers were so warded that he wouldn't be able to get in even if he had a whole month for it.

"Nothing like that," Rhysand growled. The thought of the female and her scared gaze where eating him up. He needed to see her, to make sure she was all right. But where to look for her? Then his gaze fell to his brother, half hidden in his shadows. If anyone was able to find her, then only he.

"Fine, so listen up," he groaned. While still pacing back and forth, he told them everything about his encounter with her and described every detail he remembered.

Azriel listened him attentively, nodding at last. "I will look for her while spying around. But I have to warn you - don't keep high hopes. There's an entire part of castle where I nor my spies couldn't infiltrate no matter how many times we tried it. And we work on that for years. If she is held captive in this castle, they can keep her there."

Rhysand sighed and ran hand through his hair. Eris knew her, but he wouldn't tell him anything. Could she be his lover? Or some secret fiancée? Wife? Or she belonged to another Vanserra? Just imagining that such fragile, young female was here to satisfy Beron's needs made him feel sick.

He needed to calm down, to do something to change the flow of thoughts, so he stepped to the bar and poured a glass of whiskey. He emptied the glass in one gulp, the liquor burning his throat. He grimaced and poured himself another glass. He sat down.

Cassian and Azriel started to discuss something, but he couldn't focus on their words even if he wanted. He could still see her in front of him, surrounded by silver moonlight, beautiful and so unearthly. He was only snapped out of the memory when Cassian put his big hand on his knee.

"Stop it," he muttered in amusement. "It's nerve-wracking when you nonstop tap your foot. Even Azriel here is getting nervous because of you."

"I don't-"

"You do," Azriel nodded, corners of his mouth twitching. With raised brow he looked at Cassian. "What do you think? Finally?"

"Finally," general agreed.

Rhys was confused. "Finally what?" he snapped.

"You are in love," Cassian howled with laughter and Azriel joined him shortly.

"I'm not in love. I'm just worried," Rhysand retorted, crossing hands on his chest and almost tipped the drink on his expensive shirt.

"And now he's even blushing like an innocent schoolgirl," Cassian was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"What's so funny?" Helion appeared on the threshold, light smile playing on his lips.

"Nothing. They are just two bored idiots," Rhysand groaned. Helion was the last person he wanted to find out about his encounter. High Lord of Day was the worst gossiper in entire Prythian.

"Oh, c'mon. I want to laugh, too. I'm bored here. This is the worst Court to be in."

"Because you would like to make out with a certain lady who is out of your reach?" Rhysand grinned. This lifted his spirit a bit.

Helion groaned, flopping onto other couch. "Don't even remind me of that matter."

To that Cassian started to laugh even harder.

Helion frowned at him. "Is he okay?" Rhysand only shook his head.

"Two lovesick birds," Cassian tried to calm down, Azriel next to him was massaging his hurting cheeks. He hadn't laughed so much in ages.

Helion watched them with wolfish grin and shiny eyes. "Idiots or no, I'd love to see them worn out in my bed anyway."

Azriel stopped smiling immediately, the idea had never been to his taste. Cassian just shrugged. "Maybe some other time, but thanks," he playfully winked at Lord of Day who obscenely ran teeth over his lower lip.

"I'm already waiting for the day."

Rhysand cleared his throat, grinning. "So.. Did you come for something specific or just to make obscene proposal to my brothers?"

"Actually, yes," Helion smiled, still undressing his long-term targets with eyes. "I and other High Lords are worried. You certainly already heard about something going on between Autumn and Spring."

"Sure, I did."

"I didn't see Tamlin at party tonight. I have quite bad feeling about this."

"Me too, friend," Rhysand swirled the golden liquor in the glass. "Me too."

"I guess that you don't have more detailed information on this matter that you could share with me."

"Unfortunately, I know just as much as you and the others. Azriel here is trying to find out something while we are here and his spies are snooping around in Spring, but we haven't heard anything new from them, have we?" He turned to Shadowsinger who only shook his head.

"But if you find out something, you will share it with us, right?"

"Of course I will. I can imagine only one scenario in which Beron is after the access to the Wall and human lands. We both know very well what it would mean."

"Do you think that Tamlin would allow such thing?" Cassian asked seriously.

"We can only hope that he has enough common sense to not allow it," Rhysand emptied his second glass.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

The week of festivities passed quickly. Beron prepared all kinds of activities to keep his guests entertained. Rhysand had stopped counting the number of hunts, competitions and banquets he absolved right after the first day.

Azriel spent most of the time in the shadows, spying all around the castle, following Beron like hound, but there were no news about the female nor the plans Lord of Autumn had.

Rhys started to have very bad feeling about this all and grew nervous with every passing day in dark. He kept his eyes on Eris who was obviously ignoring him, hoping he would make a mistake and take him to the female. However, Eris, the cunning fox, after the first ball never left the room, participating on every event from the beginning to the very end.

When it was finally time for the last ball, Rhysand was so nervous and irritated that even his brothers were avoiding the conversation with him. And he wasn't the only one. All gathered High Lords seemed to have enough of this shit show and masquerade, waiting only for the big announcement.

That evening, the atmosphere in the ballroom was suffocating, none of the Lords bothered to tune off their powers anymore. When Beron with his family appeared on the dais, five pairs of hostile eyes gazed at him from the crowd, waiting.

Thank you for coming and blah blah blah, Rhysand didn't really listen that old asshole, not until Tamlin appeared on the dais next to Beron who announced that they were intending to make an alliance together. Tamlin seemed to be taken aback to see everyone and to hear that they spent the whole week here, so apparently he wasn't invited for the shit show nor Beron bothered to notify him about the recent events.

"And to confirm my good intentions, my only daughter, Selene, will marry Tamlin," Beron declared.

The wave of shock ran through the crowd. As it seemed, even Autumn aristocracy didn't know about the existence of the mentioned daughter. High Lords looked at each other. Their worst fears had come true. Beron was after free access to the Wall.

However, right at that moment, it was the last thing Rhysand cared about. The doors behind Beron again opened and from the dark of the hallway a small figure emerged. Dressed in dress of moonlight colour with dark brown waves styled into a complicated hairstyle, his Moon Princess walked into the room. She looked up and their eyes locked. Exactly as that night in the forest, her beauty took all the air from his lungs, but it wasn't the only thing that happened at that moment.

Something inside him broke, the crack so loud everyone in the room had to hear it. And in that hole in the middle of his chest, a shimmering gold thread formed, blooming like a flower. The thread shot out, bridging over the entire room. Gently touching his Moon Princess, it wrapped around her and bound their souls together.

Rhysand watched it all with wide eyes and slightly opened mouth. As understanding hit him, he wavered and took a small step back, shocked. Beron's daughter was his mate. The Mother had a strange sense of humor, but in certain way it made sense. The feeling he had when he saw her on the clearing, the pull, the need to make sure she was safe. Of course she was his mate.

"What's going on?" Azriel, always the most attentive, as the only one noticed his moment of weakness.

Rhys couldn't take eyes off of her, barely managing to force his lungs to work again. "She's.. she's my.." He didn't need to finish the sentence.

Azriel's eyes also widened, jumping between him and the female. Even Cassian who overheard them, gaped at him.

"Are you sure?" Rhysand gave him a look and Azriel shook his head. "Of course, you are. Whatever you decide to do now, you can count on me," he said darkly, tendrils of shadows dancing around him.

"And on me," Cassian pat him on the back.

After the shocking announcement, the party was naturally over or at least for High Lords certainly, as they all left right away.

Helion stopped briefly at the doors of their chambers with grave expression to tell them that all the High Lords agreed that the wedding must not take place. For some reason they expected that the Night Court would take care of that, but they were ready to assist them if needed.

Honestly, Rhysand didn't remember much from what had happened after the bond snapped for him, not even how he got back home and to his bed. He lay there in the dark, unable to sleep, all the satin sheets suddenly too scratchy and insufferably hot. His mind was nonstop returning to the only thought - he had a mate and she needed his help.

He tried to analyse the moment when it snapped for him. He was curious whether she felt it too. Though, no matter how many times he replayed the scene in his head, he couldn't find a proof she felt it. Her eyes were sad, her expression shy and guarded. She walked into the room, stopped at Tamlin's side and accepted his waiting hand without a single wobble. She was shivering like leaf in the cold breeze, but all for the different reasons. At dawn he finally came to conclusion that she didn't know about the bond.

He kicked off the blanket and changed. He was determined to solve this problem as soon as possible. He wouldn't leave his mate in hands of any other male.

The Town House was completely silent when he ran down the stairs taking two at a time. The wedding was supposed to take place on the day of the autumnal equinox. That left him only a month to solve this. He didn't have much time and had to start right away. He rushed into his office, almost breaking the doors, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. Quickly he scratched letter and without reading it again sent it. He waited for the reply whole day, without leaving his office. He didn't even eat nor sleep. When there was no answer, next morning he wrote another letter.

Nobody came asking him what to do. His family already knew where they were needed the most. Azriel took all his spies and dividing them into two groups, he sent one group to Spring, the other one under his lead headed to Autumn.

Cassian collected all information and maps they had of the Forest House and looking for places where wedding could take place, he began preparing plans from kidnapping the bride before the ceremony to snatching her from groom's hands before they could say their yes.

Amren shut herself up in her apartment, searching old books with ancient magic for the ways how to break through wards.

For Mor, this was hard. She couldn't be much of help in this case, so she took it upon herself to take care of her cousin and made sure that he ate three times a day, took shower and tried to rest. She gladly accepted the role of an emotional support, listening to all his worries and self-loathing whenever he was in mood to talk.

On the fifth day when there was still no answer, Rhysand decided that he wouldn't wait any longer. He only had a limited amount of time and it was inexorably running out.

Without invitation he winnowed to the clearing near Tamlin's manor in Spring. As expected, it took only mere seconds and Tamlin appeared in his beast form, ready to turn the intruder into shreds. When he saw Rhysand waiting for him, he slowed down.

"What are you doing here?" he growled angrily. "I thought that not sending a reply is quite a clear answer."

"So you read the letters. I need to speak with you. You are doing enormous mistake-"

"That is not your business!"

"The problem is that it is my business. It's all High Lords' business, for the fuck's sake! You are going to open for Beron a way to the Wall!"

Tamlin snorted. "No, I'm not. I would do no such thing!"

"But yes, you are. Why else would Beron want to make an alliance with Spring?!"

"I can assure you that he won't get to the Wall."

"You are wrong and you know it. Whatever is going on, it won't take long and he will get what he wants."

Tamlin just gazed at him, muscles in his jaw ticking.

"What is it what you need so much that you are willing to work even with that old bastard, Tam?"

The beast's gaze wavered, but he wouldn't give in so easily.

"Tam, talk to me. We used to be friends and damn good friends. If it is a help you are looking for, I'll send you any kind of help. Do you need more soldier? You can have them. Money? Bride? Skilled officials to help you rule the Court? You can have it all, you just need to tell me. But don't go into alliance with Beron.."

Tamlin seemed to consider his offer. "I-.. I have tied hands.. I'm trying, but I shouldn't have been ruler.. I'm not built for state affairs. Everything is falling apart and now.. my advisers gave me an ultimatum.. They ask for heir otherwise they will leave me alone in this mess.."

Rhysand blinked in surprise at sudden honesty. With Tamlin, they had a lot of bad blood standing between them like a wall. Ever since Rhys' mother and sister were killed and he and his father killed Tamlin's family in return, they had hardly spoken. This was definitely progress or so he thought.

"I don't need your help, Rhysand," Tamlin murmured, "return to your Court before I make you." Tamlin pivoted, heading back into the forest.

Rhysand planned to solve this without mentioning Selene and the bond, but now there was no other way. Tamlin didn't want to listen and wouldn't accept his offer. This was the last thing that could change his mind.

"You can't marry her!" he called after Lord of Spring.

The beast stopped and looked back at him. "Why can't I?"

"Because.. she is mine."

Tamlin snorted, again moving.

"She's my mate." Rhys only whispered it, but the sweet spring breeze carried the words to his former friend. The beast halted in the middle of the step and fully turned to him. He searched him for any hint of lie, but when he found none, the emerald eyes widened.

"It snapped for me the moment she stepped into the ballroom and our eyes met. I think she doesn't know though," Rhysand continued quietly, hoping he would understand and cancel the wedding. All he needed, was more time to find a way to get her out of Autumn. He didn't ask for anything more. She didn't need to find out right away that he was her mate. He would be completely fine with only a friendship as long as he knew where she was and that she was safe.

Tamlin's eyes narrowed and darkened, one corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. "Don't worry," he said lowly. "I'll take good care of her. She will have anything she wants and I will protect her. I promise you."

"But will she be happy? Without her mate?"

"If she doesn't know about that, I see no reason why she shouldn't be. One can't mourn something they don't even know that exists."

"Tamlin, you don't understand-"

"But I do understand," he interrupted him. "See you at the wedding. Or rather not. Now we don't want to try our luck, do we."

"Tamlin!"

"Get lost!"

Rhysand fought against the magic of wards that after the dismissal was forcing him to leave. He wasn't done here yet. However, not even a High Lord could stay in other Court if the Lord there expelled them. Unwillingly he winnowed back to his house.

He stood in the middle of his office, heaving heavily. Tears gathered in his eyes. He ran hand through his dark hair and then dragged it down his face. He looked around, searching for something that could ground him, finding nothing. He fell to his knees and yelled so loud that walls shook.

In a blink of eye Cassian appeared at his side and clumsily held him, checking him for injuries. He seemed to be relieved to find none.

"He refused," Rhys sobbed. "I told him and he refused.."

"I'm so sorry, Rhys," Cass spoke kindly. "But.. We will solve this. Don't worry. We all will do our best to get her out of there."

Next week Rhysand's mood was switching between being furious, coldly calculating and falling into depression. At the end of the week, Azriel returned and whole Inner Circle gathered to share all facts they knew and come with some solution. As far as they knew, Selene lived in warded part of the castle where only family members and chosen maids could enter. Azriel spent the whole two weeks trying to break in but to no avail. Amren also had no luck with her research. Wards were a complicated ancient magic and to break through so strong ones, they would need a very powerful and dangerous magical object like Cauldron that was lost for centuries and they didn't have time to look for it anyway.

Rhys only sat there, gloomy, listening. He was again falling into depression.

"What if we got help from the inside?" Cassian suggested, looking around the table.

"From Vanserras?" Azriel looked up. His hazel eyes lit up with idea and he turned to Rhys. "I think that it's quite good idea."

"Thanks," Cassian grinned.

"And who would you ask for help?" Mor rolled eyes. "Beron? His wife? Or his rogue sons?"

Azriel didn't pay any attention to her insults and continued. "I think that the heir would be willing to help us if we convinced him."

Rhysand finally looked up, frowning. "He told me that he doesn't want to see me anywhere near her."

"Exactly! Don't you see it? Who let her out during the party when Beron was too busy to notice it? Eris. Who was out there protecting her? Eris. Who is often visiting the warded quarters despite having chambers in a completely different part of the castle? The answer is again Eris. I'll bet that he goes there only to visit her. Several times a day actually."

"Why should he want to help us to kidnap her?" Rhys shook his head.

"Because he cares for her," Azriel answered simply, tilting head to the side in disbelieve that Rhysand didn't get it yet. "I heard that he isn't thrilled for the coming wedding."

Rhysand clenched hands into fists, thinking. During the last two weeks they had tried everything and nothing worked, even Tamlin laughed him out. There was nothing else they could do except of waiting until the wedding day and then try one of the risky plans Cassian had prepared for that case.

At last, he nodded. "Fine then. Can you deliver message to him?"

Azriel smiled. "Gladly. If you write it right now, he can get it tonight."

Two days later, Rhysand winnowed to the river bend on the border of his Court and hid into the shadows under the trees, waiting. He didn't have high expectations, he was avoiding the hope so as not to be disappointed in the end. The time ticked by while he watched flowing river, but in his mind he saw only her, his Moon Princess bathing in the silver moonlight with shiny big eyes and soft smile on her lips. He could keep watching her lovely profile forever. If that was all he was allowed in this lifetime, he would die a happy male.

Thirty minutes later another male winnowed to the same bend of the river, his red hair looked like blazing flames in the setting sun. He eyed the empty river bank and nearby tree line with arrogant, bored expression. He crossed hands on his chest, glaring into the waters.

Rhysand stepped from his hideaway, casually walking with hands in the pockets to the place where the other male waited at. "I already started to think that you won't come," he tried his usual cocky tone, but even to him it sounded fake.

"You are the one who wanted to meet up at this.. where are we actually?" Eris raised a brow, disgusted.

Rhysand shrugged. "Just old campsite. Nobody is coming here anymore, not after what happened here. Old story. The most important is that we can talk here without being overheard."

Eris clasped hands behind his back. "So? What is so urgent? I'm busy with wedding preparations as you know."

"That's the reason why I need to speak with you." Rhys swallowed hard. He was preparing for this discussion ever since Azriel left with his letter in the pocket. Despite everything he decided to be honest for once instead of making up lies. "That wedding must not take place."

Eris raised brows at him. "Why?"

"Because..," he tried to say it aloud, but couldn't, "it can't happen."

"Good try, but I don't have time for this. So if you don't have any good reason for this, I'm leaving." He pivoted.

"She's my mate."

"What?!" Eris turned back to him so fast that he almost slipped on the stones.

"You heard me. Selene, your sister, is my mate."

Eris just gaped at him, eyes wide, but at least he wasn't about to leave anymore.

"The wedding is the biggest mistake. I don't think she knows about the bond, but she won't be happy. You have to help me stop it."

Eris's mask slipped down for a moment and Rhysand noticed pain hidden beneath. "I can't. It's too late."

"It isn't. They aren't wed yet, there's still time."

"And what do you expect me to do? Do you want me to go to my father and tell him: hey, forget about the alliance with Spring, her mate resides on the other side of Prythian? That would 100% work."

Rhys rolled eyes. "No, just help me get her out of there. If there is no bride, there won't be wedding nor alliance. This will solve all the problems at once and nobody gets hurt."

Eris snorted. "And what about her? What will happen to my sister?"

"She can live here, in my Court. I'll protect her, give her home and take good care of her. You will be welcome to come visit her anytime you want."

Eris shook head in disbelieve. "You will keep her at your side like some sustained lover? No, in such case she's better in Spring with Tamlin. I saw them talking together and he was really kind and respectful to her. That's what she deserves, Rhysand. The respect. There might be no love between them yet, but it can change in the future. He will provide her with the same things you are offering, but he will make her his wife."

Horrified, Rhysand took a step back. "Lover? What? Don't put words into my mouth. She doesn't know about the bond and I won't push her into relationship with me. If she wishes so, we will be friends. She decides what we will be, not me. But if the bond snaps for her and she accepts it, I'll more than gladly marry her right away. In my Court, she will have freedom she never had and in marriage we will be equal. In everything."

He gave him a doubtful look, laughing. "Equal? Mother's tits! I won't believe such empty promises."

"These are no empty promises, I'm serious. Can you see me laughing? I'll make even a bargain with you. If she agrees to marry me, she will be my equal. I'll make her a High Lady."

"There is no such thing as High Lady." Eris stuck out chin, narrowing eyes.

"Then she will be the first one. Do you want to bet?"

"No, but I want that bargain."

"Fine," Rhys smiled for the first time since he learnt that his Moon Princess is doomed to marry another male. "So, what do you want in exchange for your help?"

Eris tilted head to the side, pressing lips into thin line. "Help for help. When the time comes, you will help me get rid of my father."

"We have a deal." After wording their vows, smell of magic filled the air and a small tattoo appeared on their bodies.

"Great that you agreed so easily. I was ready to get down on my knees if necessary," Rhysand grinned.

"That sounds like a lot of fun. Especially, in this awful state you are in. I think I'm going to change my mind."

"Good you can't," Lord of Night patted his shoulder with new tattoo.

Eris barked with laughter.

"Now tell me, just out of curiosity, is Selene really your sister or just half sister? It doesn't really matter to me, I'm asking because-"

"She looks so different?" Eris finished the sentence with fox grin. "She is my sister. Frankly, she looks like clone of father's great grand mother. I would show you her picture, but.."

"No need. I believe you."

Eris raised his brows doubtfully.

"How exactly do you imagine her abduction to take place? If your spymaster can so easily get into my chamber, I'd say you don't need me."

"Believe me when I say that we already tried to get to her. Unfortunately, not even my brilliant spymaster can get through your father's wards. That's why we need your help."

"I see. I'm relieved to hear there are wards that can stop you and your people."

"If we weren't in such time crunch, we would find way in for sure. But we don't have so much time now," he winked. "All I need from you is to get her out of the wards inside the castle. It really doesn't matter whether you take her to your room or to that clearing, as long as she will be somewhere where we can get to her."

Next hour or so they spent discussing the details of the abduction, so the both sides knew the exact meeting place, time and what to do. When Eris left, Rhysand return back home, feeling much better. In good mood he shared the plan with Cassian and Azriel who would go into the action with him. Now he just needed to wait for message from Eris. If he hadn't seen with his own two eyes how much young heir cared for his sister, he would doubt his intentions. This all was possible only thanks to the exceptionally strong sibling love and overprotectiveness. In moments like this Rhys thought about his own baby sister. What would it be like if she was still here?

Days were passing one after another without any news from the Autumn heir until finally four days before the wedding a small piece of paper appeared on Rhysand's desk. He opened it and skimmed a neatly written short message.

Cassian! Azriel! he called in his mind.

Ever since he made the deal, they were staying in their rooms in the Town House instead of the House of Wind, just in case they would need to quickly move on. It took them only a minute to get to his office. As soon as they appeared on threshold, he happily waved the paper in the air.

"Get ready! We leave an hour after sunset."

Exactly one hour after sunset Rhysand winnowed the three of them to the Autumn Court's borders, the rest of the way they had to fly to avoid being detected by the magic of the wards that Eris inconspicuously lifted for several minutes.

Thankfully, wards around the Forest House weren't so hard to get through and Azriel could safely get them in without any help. Under the cover of night, Rhysand led them through the grounds to the clearing where they were supposed to meet with Eris and Selene. They slipped past the patrol on their way, unnoticed. Just to make sure they weren't walking into a trap, they silently landed in the forest and went on foot the rest of the way. Hidden in the dark shadows under the trees, they waited.

Ten minutes later, Eris appeared on the clearing dimly lit by the waxing moon. And he wasn't alone. Holding his hand, a small figure walked behind him.

"Be careful here," Eris kindly warned his sister and she smiled in answer.

When they stopped in the middle of the clearing, Selene looked up on the moon, bathing in the silver light. With her long hair down and in the snow white dress, she was stunning. Meanwhile, Eris intently gazed into the night, his body tense. Rhys nodded to his brothers and moved forward. They assumed she would be less frightened if he went first. He let the dry twig to crack under his boot on purpose, notifying them of his arrival.

Both siblings turned in the same time. Tension in Eris's shoulders melted away, replaced by sadness. Selene seemed to recognize him and shyly hid behind her brother.

The males nodded in greeting. "Everything okay?"

"Nobody saw us."

"And Beron?"

"Some kind of troubles with goods for wedding in the port."

Selene watched their quiet exchange calmly from behind the brother's back, curiously peeking at Lord of Night. She didn't seem to be surprised by the turn of events at all.

Rhys nodded at last and leaning to the side to get a better view, he smiled at her.

"Hey there," he said so softy he surprised even himself. "Do you remember me?"

"Yes, my lord," Selene answered shyly and hid even more into brother's shadow.

Rhysand huffed in amusement. "I thought we already had this conversation, darling. Only Rhys for you."

Eris winced at the way he addressed his sister, but didn't say a word. Instead he took his sister's hand and pulled her from behind him. "It's okay, dear. He's here to take you.. to safety."

She looked up at him with her big bright eyes, waiting. "I'm sorry, Sel," Eris continued, "I can't let you marry Tamlin. I genuinely think that he would be a good husband to you, but you wouldn't be happy with him. That's why you have to.." He couldn't finish the sentence, his voice failed him. Rhys noticed the tears in his eyes and decided to ignore them for now. He understood how hard this must be for him.

"So you allow me to leave with my mate?" Her silent question made them both gape at her in shock. Eris recovered as first and smiled sadly. He reached into the pocket between the words and pulled out a bigger bag.

"I- I packed you some clothes for the start.. and a couple of your favourite things.."

"You know about the bond?" Rhysand's heart stuttered. He didn't expect that.

She met his gaze for a second and quickly shied away, blushing fiercely. "Since the night we met here," she took her brother's sleeve between fingers and stepped closer to him, partly hiding behind him.

Rhysand was so happy that he couldn't find words. He had so many questions that he didn't know where to start. Cassian and Azriel quietly approached them and Selene's eyes widened with fear.

"That's okay, they won't hurt anyone. They are my friends who came to help me get you safely to my Court," Rhys held out hands, explaining. "This is Cassian, General of my armies, and this is Azriel, Spymaster. They are big, clumsy and quite grumpy, but both are very kind-hearted, I assure you. We grew up together like brothers."

When introduced, Cassian grinned widely and waved at her, while Azriel put hand on his chest and slightly bowed.

Eris scoffed, rolling eyes.

"It's time. We should go before someone notices she's gone," Azriel murmured lowly. He was right. It was too risky to stay here for too long.

Rhysand cleared his throat nervously and offered her hand. "Can we?"

She looked up at her brother questioningly. Eris's jaw tightened as he turned to face her. At first he only held her hands, suppressing his feelings, but then he broke and pulled her into a hug. He whispered her something in the ear and tried to wipe his tears away stealthily while pretending to clean some dirt from her shoulder.

They parted and Selene walked over to Rhys' group, her cheeks wet.

Eris sadly watched as Rhysand gently picked her up and handed her bag to Azriel. "Everything is going to be fine. He will take good care of you.. I'll visit you soon," he looked at Rhys who nodded in agreement.

"Anytime you want."

"Oh, and take this," Eris reached into his pocket and handed her a blank sheet of paper. She turned it in fingers, confused. "It's enchanted. If you want to talk with me, just write on the paper and it will teleport to me. When I answer, it will return. If there would be any trouble with it.." His eyes moved to Lord of Night.

"I'll gladly help you with it or you can write a letter and Azriel will deliver it for you."

The mentioned one nodded in agreement and opened the bag so she could put it in.

"I'll miss you, brother," she sobbed.

"I already miss you. Stay safe." Eris stepped away, hardly keeping his tears back. He put on his cool mask of heir, but his amber eyes were giving him away.

"Thank you," Rhysand swallowed hard, hardly suppressing his own emotions. "When you are ready, let me know. I owe you for this. And don't worry. She will be safe and well cared of. I'll write you when we arrive."

Eris only nodded, fists clenched at his sides and retreated a few steps to give them enough space. Rhysand summoned his wings and carefully took off followed by his brothers. Selene watched Eris until trees obscured her view. Then she wiped her tears and rested head on his shoulder. It took him by surprise and for a moment he forgot how to use the wings.

"Sorry," he apologised for the shock and she hummed in answer. He exhaled shakily, again feeling like a youngling on the first date. "A-are you scared? Of flying?"

"No," she whispered between sobs.

Rhys tugged her closer to his body, gently rubbing her shoulder with thumb. "I know it's kind of scary for you. You don't know me nor my family, but I promise I'll do anything to make you happy. And the bond.. I won't pressure you. It's up to you-"

"I want the bond," she said firmly, interrupting him. "I saw that we will be happy."

"You did?" Rhysand raised a brow. Eris probably failed to mention that his baby sister was a seer.

"Sometimes I see little flashes of my future. I knew that you will come for me."

He huffed. "Of course you did. You are the Moon Princess after all."

"Who's Moon Princess?" She seemed to calm down at last and stopped crying, but she stayed hidden in the crook of his neck.

"Well, she's someone my mother used to tell me a story about. Do you want to hear it?"

She nodded and so Rhys started quietly whispering the story into her ear while they were sliding through the peaceful night sky, heading to their own 'happily ever after'.

[muffingnf]

It's so confusing. It's literally a minecraft event. Of course people who are good at minecraft and stream it are going to be a part of it?? It's a pvp based game; the goal is to kill others. The complaints make no sense.

“people who are good at minecraft shouldn’t be invited to minecraft events” counterpoint: people who are shit at minecraft shouldn’t be invited to minecraft events

[ingravinoveritas]

Following up on this post, where Michael talked about visiting a famous gay bar with Graham Norton, Michael just ‘liked’ a QT from the bar that he is tagged in:

So, not only did Michael talk in an interview about visiting an iconic gay bar, said bar QTed the video of him speaking and told him to “come back soon,” and he ‘liked’ their tweet...AND he is following the bar on Twitter:

Oh, Michael...

[mintacle]

Sometimes self care is writing a lengthy rant and then saving it to my drafts.

[mearchy]

I’ve been in fandom for almost a decade and I still don’t understand proshipper vs antishipper discourse. I’ve seen proshippers who will go “yeah I think if you attack me for posting p**ophilia art in the fandom tags and romanticizing p**ophilic relationships you’re a literal fascist who hates free speech” and it’s like well you seem as though you don’t understand that A) social backlash =/= censorship and B) that your art is triggering and fucked up! and you should keep it in appropriately tagged spaces or just don’t post it if you don’t want people to engage with it in critical ways. But then there will be anti shippers who are like “yeah if you write a fictional story with any unhealthy relationship in it you’re probably an abuser who is incapable of writing anything with meaningful content or anything important to say and I’m going to call the internet cops on you” and it’s like well my dude, just wait until somebody lets you out of the kids section of a public library — and also you’re about two steps away from calling me slurs so let’s take a chill pill and come back to this conversation never.

And that’s why I don’t trust people who have “antis DNI” or “proshippers DNI” in their bios and don’t interact with either of them. Because it’s reeeeeally not a black and white issue and there are people on both sides of this argument who I would prefer never interacted with me ever.

EDIT: I was going to keep this in the tags but.

[myfandomrealitea]

top/bottom discourse in the Genshin fandom is annoying

hear me out, I don’t have anything against people who like one fixed dynamic only. Unless they go out of their way to harass other fixed/switch dynamic shippers

and that’s exactly what happened to a zine artist. The zine is for profit, also still in the making but they announced a guest artist who doesn’t care about strict dynamics, they occasionally lean towards the other dynamic (let’s call it vanilla) but would draw the fixed dynamic (chocolate) for this zine

people who wanted chocolate only were angry about the fact that an artist who leans more to vanilla was invited for a chocolate zine. They called it “false advertising” and “being lied to” and “how can we make sure this person will only draw chocolate?!” and “how dare you invite a VANILLA artist for CHOCOLATE!”

the harassment was so bad that the artist deactivated their twitter and I’m really sad to hear that. What more, there were Chinese fixed shipper in the comments who insulted the zine mods and artist, making comments like “it looks you slept with each other” or “if you don’t get why were complaining, you’re stupid!”

and I’m just like… this is no big deal.

This zine is not out yet. No one lost money, no one was hurt by “false advertising”. The zine mods protect the artist and said switch shippers are welcome as long as they draw the fixed dynamic the mods decided on, which the artist will do or would have done. If you don’t like the product, you don’t have to buy it! It makes me sad that something so little exploded into something so big

Unfortunately this isn't just a Genshin issue. Fans are fucking rabid about top/bottom discourse and it usually boils down to some kind of heteronormative-vaguely-sexist flavor.

You see it most often in ships which have very obvious dynamic and personality differences. The "little sunshine one" is always the super feminine uwu bottom. The tallest one is always the top, though some people like to add a little spice by making them a submissive top.

And don't get me wrong—I'm not immune. I have the odd pairing where I'm more fixated on a set sexual dynamic, but I'm a switch shipper through and through. And I'd certainly never try to dictate that my preferences in fanon are the universal rule.

In all honesty, I'd have cancelled the zine. People need to learn that actions have consequences. If you want the fun fandom thing, you have to be respectful. Too many people have caved to fandom pressure and harassment and just aided in educating people that being cunts effectively gets them what they want. People need to learn there are consequences to ruining it for everyone else.

(Because lets be honest, you are going to be nobody's favorite person if everyone knows you're the reason they lost out on something.)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 17

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood and injury; threats of SA and abuse; allusions to past SA and abuse; sexual themes.

“Daryl.”

He reached behind himself, hand finding your arm to move you closer to his back. He needed to know you were right there. You were safe. With that threat— and that man was a threat —he trusted your safety to no one else. Not Rick. Not even Carol. 

The archer turned his head toward his shoulder, his eyes remaining forward. “If I tell ya to run, ya run.”  You didn’t reply, but he knew you’d heard. 

Jazz stood at the gate, his posture relaxed, his smile full of smug condescension. The one Daryl knew to be Todd stood beside him, arms crossed, looking every bit the bodyguard. Three men had emerged from the same suv while another five spilled from a second car— the car Daryl had traded for your freedom. They were quite clearly the lackeys, keeping the dead at a distance. 

“Is no one going to invite us in?” Jazz was staring down Rick, who gave a nod to Maggie. Her hesitance to follow the order was apparent but any sort of discourse couldn’t be displayed in front of outsiders. The eldest Greene walked the gate across, opening it wide enough for the vehicles and narrowing her eyes when they left the transportation behind. She held her ground when Jazz gave her an appreciative once over. 

“Mmm, you’d make a fine addition to my roster.” The man reached toward her face. 

“Don’t touch her.” Rick warned from the second gate. Jazz looked toward the man, disappointed to find Maggie had walked away to close the gate. 

“Rick, my friend, it’s good to see you.” The woman was quickly forgotten, Jazz holding open his arms.

“I wouldn’t exactly call us ‘friends.’” The former deputy kept his tone even, hand on the lock but not yet opening it. “Leave your weapons with her.” He gestured to Maggie. Both Jazz and Todd turned to look at her, the other men keeping their eyes forward. 

“Of course. Boys.”

Everyone had begun to gather around you, easing a portion of Daryl’s anxiety. Even Glenn had taken the spot to his left instead of pursuing a place closer to Maggie. She could handle herself. You could too, they knew that now, but staring into the face of your tormentors might have proven overwhelming for you. The archer wasn’t willing to take that chance. With Carol on his right and Beth behind you, he felt you were well protected. Not enough to lower his guard.

He had run outside with you, distracted and unprepared, his weapons back next to the mattress. He never came outside unarmed. Though he couldn’t afford to occupy his mind by berating himself at that moment, he made a mental note to do so later. 

Weapons on the ground, Jazz gave Rick an expectant look, smiling coolly in the face of the man’s hesitance before the lock and chain were removed and the gate was opened. 

“How’d you find us?” Rick kept his eyes trained on the leader, cautious and prepared. 

Jazz was walking slowly, damn near strutting while appraising the prison and the people he could see. His eyes landed on Daryl, and something shifted. Again when he saw you in the middle of your protective circle. 

The bowman inwardly cursed. 

Because he knew why Jazz was there. 

And gauging from the expression on the man’s face while he glanced back and forth between the two of you, he knew, too. 

Your feet were frozen to the ground, every imperfection of the concrete suddenly painful and grating against the skin of your bare soles. Jazz was watching you. Watching Daryl. With an interest that made you nauseous. 

“I’ll admit that it wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.” Hands clasped behind his back, the club owner began an easy stride toward you. Daryl tensed in front of you while Glenn and Carol shifted with their guns. 

“Necessary?” Rick asked, glancing to ensure the other men were remaining still before following Jazz. 

“Mhm.” The man stopped in front of Daryl, giving the appearance of sizing him up before leaning slightly to direct his entire focus toward you. “Seems they’ve figured out how to control you well enough.”

The only thing you felt for a moment was confusion. Control? Oh, the bruises and cuts from training. He thought—

Daryl took a step over, blocking you from Jazz’s gaze. “Ya don’t look at her. Ya don’t talk to her. Understood?” 

There was a chuckle that made your blood run cold. You’d spent so long hearing that same sound just before something bad tended to happen. When you felt Beth’s hand on your shoulder, you realized how badly you were trembling. 

“No matter. It’s you I’m here to see anyway.” 

That in itself was peculiar, but even more strange to realize that Daryl didn’t seem surprised. 

“S’that right?” The archer asked indifferently. Jazz hummed with an air of annoyance. 

“Why did you come to see Daryl?” Carol inquired from your right. Her posture changed, body angling toward her best friend in a way you weren’t sure she even realized. 

“I’m glad you asked.” Gravel crunched beneath boots before you could make out your former captor’s back, hands still loosely held behind him. “You see, it had only been a few days since we were paid a visit by Rick and his friend here. In the dead of night, we woke to find our establishment up in flames. Lost several men, eight girls managed to escape while the others were too afraid of what awaited out in the world.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with us?” There was intentionally placed irritation in Rick’s question. 

“I’m getting to that.” Jazz was still calm, in a way that made your teeth itch. “Do you know what we found when we returned to see what could be salvaged?” It was rhetorical, and everyone knew it. While no one said a word, you saw Daryl tense even more. Jazz held out a hand toward Todd, the taller man reaching into his annoyingly clean jacket. 

A unified exclamation of whoa and easy erupted. Then came the silence; so quiet that you swore you could hear your heart attempting to restart after it froze the moment the charred bolt was held out in display. 

“Now, if you’re the sort of man I take you to be, integrity isn’t something you tend to forego. It’s important to you.” Jazz was inches from Daryl now, the bolt held between their faces. “So I’ll ask once. Does this belong to you?”

The tension was dizzying. You fought the urge to reach for the bowman, surround yourself with the veil of safety that only he could provide. 

“Daryl?” 

You could make out the slight turn of Daryl’s head as he regarded Rick for a brief moment before returning to Jazz. 

“S’mine.”

Rick’s shoulders slumped, disappointed in his friend for starting something. It was unfortunate but they would work through it. What worried you was the slip in Jazz’s flippant demeanor. It was quick, his indifference immediately schooled back into place. 

“All over that worthless thing?” The man indicated you with a dismissive wave. 

Daryl growled, ready to defend you, but you surprised even yourself by speaking up first. “I’m not worthless.” Your words lacked confidence, but speaking up in itself clearly irked the man. Daryl twisted to look at you, a small smirk lifting one side of his mouth. 

“Knew we should’ve trained you better. We were too soft with you.”

“Soft? You tortured me! Let men rape me! You let them beat me and tear me and cut me! That’s not soft, you pompous jackass!” The archer remained your steady wall, unmoving and unwilling to let the clawed hands of your nightmares raise a single finger toward you. 

Jazz threw back his head in laughter. “You finally got some bite. Maybe I’ll pull out those teeth when we get back to the new club.”

Your blood didn’t just run cold, it froze in your veins. Any and all ability to speak was lost somewhere between your throat and tongue. 

“She ain’t goin’ nowhere with you.” Daryl snarled at Jazz, bearing his teeth like an animal. Instead of stepping into the man’s space, the archer stepped backwards, nearly pressing his back into you. 

“I think it’s time for you to go.” Rick joined the small circle that protected you. Jazz crossed his arms, entirely nonplussed. 

“The way I see it is you owe me eight girls. But just give me her and we’ll be square.”

“No deal. Y’ain’t takin’ her or anyone else.” Daryl was shifting his weight back and forth, amping himself up for a fight. You steeled your own nerves, prepared to defend yourself and your home— even if you were barefoot and in your t-shirt and sleep shorts. 

Jazz smirked, unsettling every ounce of resolve you’d managed to build. “Pity.” Uncrossing his arms, he raised a hand in the air and titled his wrist forward, a finger extending toward Daryl. 

You barely heard the shot, paid no mind to everyone springing into motion. The white hot burn on your cheek didn’t even fully register. It was the blood that sprayed onto your face and clothes that held you immobile. It was Daryl’s agonized shout and the way he crumbled to his knees. You cared little for the fact that it left you open for attack. 

“Daryl!” Your knees stung from the bite of the concrete. There was already a circle of blood just beside where the archer’s forehead was pressed against the ground. He was groaning through heaving breaths. His hair shielded a little of his face but the skin you could see was a mixture of blood-splattered and pale. “Daryl, where are you hit? Let me see!” 

“Run.” He panted, his right hand swatting yours away from his left arm. 

“I’m not—”

“Run, damnit! Go!” The bowman pushed himself up, swaying on his knees. His left shoulder was steadily bleeding. When you met his eyes, the kindness you always saw had given way to fear. And you knew, you knew it wasn’t for himself. 

You reached for his face but pulled back with a nod, getting to your feet. There was chaos all around, weapons and orders being screamed. None with which Jazz intended to comply. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He was talking to you. You hesitated, remembering belatedly how Daryl had taught you that hesitation would get you killed. “My man is just in that treeline there, girly. He’ll put a bullet in your boyfriend’s brain before you can take the first step.” That had you turning, despite Daryl’s protests. 

Your face ached. The bullet had grazed you after tearing through the archer’s shoulder but that hardly mattered. If you ran now, Daryl was dead. Maybe the others could take down Jazz and his goons but not before Daryl would be killed. He wasn’t what the man had implied but he was certainly more than a friend. He was your family. They all were, but Daryl was special. 

“If I go with you, you’ll leave them alone? You won’t hurt Daryl?” 

The man laughed. “Well, we won’t make it worse for him.” Everyone was panicking, not knowing whether to lower their weapons, fire, run. “You have my word, darlin’.” Jazz’s word meant jack shit, but you couldn’t gamble with Daryl’s life. You managed a step before a tight grip encircled your wrist. You knew who that hand belonged to before you turned around to actually witness the desperation in Daryl’s eyes. 

“Don’t do it. Don’tcha go with him.” He winced. He was holding you with his injured arm. The tears that had been collecting on your lashes began to fall as you knelt in front of him, gently working his fingers loose. 

“I have to go or he’ll kill you.” You said loudly enough for only him to hear. 

“I ain’t worth you goin’ back to that hell. Ya need to run. Y’know the ways out, y’know where to hide. Carol taught ya, I know she—” His voice failed when you lifted his hand to your uninjured cheek, nuzzling it with your eyes closed before kissing the top of it. 

“Thank you, Daryl.” Gently placing his hand down, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, ignoring the blood. “Goodbye.” He was shaking his head, eyes wide and alarmed. You squeezed Carol’s elbow in passing, sharing a nod. She ran to the archer’s side and struggled to keep him subdued, calling on Glenn and Rick to help. You passed by Big Jazz, ignoring his devious smile. 

“Y/N! Y/N, don’t!” 

You ignored Daryl’s pleas and instead listened to the first gate closing behind you, smiling gently when Maggie met your gaze with her own shining eyes. The second gate opened and you shrugged off Todd’s hand on your shoulder, refusing to let your friends see you leaving as the same broken girl you were when you’d arrived. 

You weren’t her anymore. 

And once you were gone and your friends were safe— Daryl was safe —then Jazz and Todd would be introduced to who you had become. 

“I gotta go! Fuck!” Daryl tried to sit up, a jolt of pain sending him back down to the mattress. He didn’t know where this new building was. How could he have been so careless? He had been so damn determined to keep his word about burning the place to the ground that he hadn’t collected his bolts. He had gone on a supply run, but he had already made up his mind. He had decided what he would do that first day when he carried you. 

“Take it easy, son.” Hershel advised, standing as close as he dared while Rick and Glenn held the archer down. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re in shock. I can’t in good conscience tell you that I am okay with you going anywhere.”

“I don’t give a fuck! They’ll kill ‘er!” 

“Come on, man. Just let him look at you. We’ll figure it out!” Glenn pleaded, struggling to hold Daryl’s uninjured arm. 

“We all care about her, brother.” Rick wasn’t having it any easier. With each movement, more blood oozed from the wound, but the archer felt nothing other than worry and guilt. He was numb to the physical pain, the ache in his chest far outweighing it. 

“Get the fuck off’a me!”

“Daryl Dixon, you stop that right now!” Carol’s voice seemed to cut through the chaos like a knife, strong and authoritative. He froze, all the fight draining from him with one look at his best friend’s face. Carol placed a hand on Glenn’s forearm, nodding in answer to his silent question of whether or not to let go. 

Daryl rolled his head toward her, face pale and chest heaving. “They’re gonna kill ‘er. We can’t just sit here an’ do nothin’.”

“I know.” She exchanged places with Glenn, sending a calm glance to Rick. The former deputy understood and released his hold to step back. “We’ll find her, but you won’t be any good to her if you bleed out or get an infection. We’ll come up with a plan and take a group while you,” she held up a hand to silence the protests that started to roll off his tongue, “while you get some rest and heal.”

“Y’ain’t leavin’ without me.” He countered, struggling to keep his eyes open. He knew they would. They cared about you too, but he knew they would wait. They would plan carefully and by then, it could be too late for you. Losing the battle against unconsciousness, he had already made up his mind.

He would leave the minute he opened his eyes again. 

And god help every single one of those motherfuckers when he found you. 

“Looks like they learned how to deal with you well enough.” Jazz chuckled from the passenger seat without looking at you. You sat between two of his men, hands folded on your lap. 

“No.” You answered simply. 

The man clicked his tongue. “You know I don’t like that word, baby.”

“I don’t give a shit what you like. And I’m not your baby.”

Jazz finally twisted in his seat to regard you. Against every instinct, you refused to lower your head, raising your chin defiantly. 

“I’d cut out your tongue when we take those pretty teeth but then you’d be shit at sucking dick.” You curled your lip but remained silent. “If memory serves, you’re quite the fan of ol’ Todd’s knife.” There was a flinch, almost imperceptible but when that sick smile spread across his face, you knew he’d seen. “There it is. You’re still my good girl down deep. Don’t worry. We’ll dig her out of there. We have nothing but time.”

Your fingers itched to curl into fists but you stayed still, eyes narrowed. Don’t bet on that. 

You weren’t fool enough to think that Daryl and the others wouldn’t come for you. Weeks ago, while still captive in the dark cage of your mind, you would have been convinced they didn’t care; that Daryl and the other men would leave you to your fate because your scarred cunt wasn’t worth the effort. Now you knew different. There were still good people in that broken, terrifying world and somehow, you had been blessed enough to end up with the best of them. 

Your thoughts turned to Daryl, bleeding and begging behind you as you had walked away. Had they managed the wound? You inwardly smiled at the thought. Had they managed Daryl enough to even be able to manage the wound? Stubborn man. You could clearly see Carol dragging him by the collar of his shirt toward the prison door while he protested. 

You could only hope you’d see him again. 

“What did the rugged one think of that Picasso pussy anyway?” You shook from your thoughts and glared at Jazz, meeting his amused eyes. “You must have put on a real show. Shown him what you could really do. He burned down my club. Tried to shield you from me.” He laughed, genuine amusement behind the action. “Fat lotta good it did him. But tell me, did he like Todd’s artistic expression? Did he keep you all to himself or share you with his friends?”

You did smile then. “They never touched me.”

Jazz scoffed, suddenly stoic, personally offended that your abuse hadn’t continued once you were free of him. “Someone did.” You knew he meant your current appearance. 

“Not every man needs to compensate for what they are lacking. Not every woman feels the need to spread her legs to earn her place.” Your smile fell away. You were poking the bear now. “No, Jazz, they never touched me.”

His expression said he wouldn’t ask again. “That’s a shame. More work for us to break you in again.” He turned to face the windshield. To anyone else, he would appear unaffected. You, though; you could see the tick in his jaw, the way his hand curled into a fist. “We’re up to the challenge though, sweetheart.”

Me, too.

It was dark when Daryl felt the heavy weight of awareness begin to filter in dully. His shoulder throbbed, his head pulsed. But he woke with the image of you walking away in the forefront of his mind. 

He was alone. They had left him alone to rest. At some point, they must have managed to get some painkillers in him. He felt like his brain was surrounded and filled with cotton, movements slow and sloppy. 

With a great deal of effort, he succeeded in sitting up, shaking his head as if the effects of the medication in his system would somehow disappear. It didn’t matter. He was leaving. 

Heaving his tired body upright, he staggered, vision swimming. He needed his weapons. He needed the keys to his bike. But first, he needed to make it to his perch before they came to check on him. Someone was awake. He wasn’t fool enough to think they’d just sedate him and go to sleep. They were likely planning their next move. Without him. He had to be careful and quiet. And fast.

One foot in front of the other, he considered it a win to make it to his space without face-planting. Goddamn them and those stupid pills. He fumbled with the gun and knife holsters, frustrated with his slow progress. Every second was precious time wasted, every minute could mean a new mark on your body, a new scar for you to bear. It could be the moment Jazz decided you weren’t worth the effort at all. 

He damn near cried out strapping his crossbow to his back. Luckily, his right shoulder would bear the weight. There was no time for provisions, he couldn’t carry them if he tried. He only grabbed a first aid kit and a canteen of water, letting his bag hang from his right shoulder as well. The archer nearly tumbled down the steps but made it by clutching the railing. 

There was no way he could take the bike like this. He couldn’t take a car either. He wouldn’t succeed in getting the gates open and shut before whoever was on watch stopped him, not while this slow and uncoordinated. He would need to go through the tombs and exit on the opposite side of the prison. Jesus, he was probably heading out on a suicide mission. 

You were worth it. That had been decided long ago. 

As he quietly made his way through the deceivingly quiet hallways, he thought back on the day he’d met you. Small and withdrawn, barely clothed. Calling him “sir” every breath. You’d probably never know that he resented the title because the utterance of it from your lips made his cock twitch. It made him feel ashamed, guilty. You had been so afraid of him, of everyone. All he had wanted was for you to be safe. Even in the beginning when he had tried to cut you loose and you had followed. 

He had only wanted you to be safe. 

Now, you were different. Stronger, capable. And the feelings he had fought against for so long remained. He couldn’t promise himself he’d acknowledge them for what they were even once you were home and safe. 

He just wanted you back. 

Using his right hand, he sank his knife into the skull of the first walker, the growls and shuffling feet of several more signaling he was in for a battle just to make it out to begin his search. 

He would make it because you needed him. 

And he needed you to fight long enough for him to find you. 

[its-always-ziney-in-philadelphia]

The Summer Zine: The Gang Finds Their Pride

okkkkk so I know we just got done with the valentines day zine butttttt I just couldn't get my mind off this idea soooooo..... we're doing it!! ♥️☀️♥️

what's a zine?

for anyone unfamiliar with the term, a zine is basically a digital (or sometimes physical) magazine, that someone or a group of people create about something they're passionate about. for a reference, feel free to also check out our pinned post for the zines we've released so far

so what exactly is this zine about?

basically, just summery aesthetic. the gang hanging out by the pool, a late summer's kiss, the gang going to a pride parade, dennis in a fairy au where he fights charlie for flower pollen.

any and all ships are welcome, of course (and hopefully no need to mention this, but no incest or consent play)

what kind of contributions are accepted?

the contribution just has to be sunny-centric, but it can be drawings, writing, crafts, games, playlists, or just something you're passionate about.

what's the rating?

as previous zines, this will also be pg-13. I don't know if this has to be mentioned, but since there has been a toooonnnn of discourse about this online, kink is allowed at pride :)) kink attire, kink themes, all that jam is allowed, just as long as the submission doesn't depict sexual acts <3 for a more in detail explanation, contact one of the admins or send us an ask here and we can help answer any questions you have.

what now?

if you've made it this far in the post and decided to join us, please don't hesitate to comment on this post, or dm one of the admins handling this, and you'll receive an invitation to our discord server: @malewifemanhunter | @cowboycharmac | @horatios-mom/@charhuahuakelly | @officialbillhader. I'm sooooooooooo fucking excited for this one, I'm so excited to work with the talented artists that helped made the last ones such an incredible experience, and meet new amazing artists, it's gonna turn out sooooooooooo cute!!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Hey so the ask this is from isn't getting posted because we don't debate "am I the asshole for liking x media" here, but I wanted to illustrate, this is exactly why I don't custom tag things! Too many people ask for [extremely general tag] apparently not realizing that tags are searchable, not just organizational--or, less charitably, actively trying to start discourse by putting a controversial post on my blog in a large, publicly-searchable tag. Sorry but I'm not inviting that into my house! We have enough discourse in my notes already!

[bekolxeram]

Another day, another spin around the Great Cycle of Fandom Discourse™. Today we seem to be at the bachelor party costume debate for like, the 7th time. Let's just go all out and read too much into all of the characters' attires.

Buck and Eddie, they're the only ones dressed correctly for the theme, it was Buck's idea to throw a 80s themed party and Eddie's idea to dress up as Crockett and Tubbs after all. Although, as I've mentioned a while ago, they didn't coordinate with each other beforehand, so they both showed up dressing up as Crockett.

It's Crockett who usually wears pastel, Tubbs seems to prefer darker colors.

Now, Hen is wearing some kind of a retro costume, it's not exactly her usual style, but judging by the high waist flair jeans, it's more of a late 60s-70s outfit. Karen, on the other hand, dresses like uh..... Karen, aka goddess among men. It's probably Henren's normal going out attire.

I'm convinced this man has a closet full of Henleys in each pantone color. Tommy is in his usual Henley and jeans, and he explains it on a technicality: people did wear Henleys in the 80s. We don't actually know how much time passed between the coffee apology-not-date and the wedding, but it can't be too long. We also don't know when Buck invites Tommy to the bachelor party, he seems to be still scouring for venue 2 weeks before. There's likely not enough time for Tommy to shuffle his schedule around or throw together a specific costume. The best he can do is put on whatever he has and try his best to show up while on standby, Buck is glad that he can make it though.

I have no idea what Ravi is wearing. It's a regular button up with some subtle pattern on it and black pants? I don't think he's dressed up as anyone or anything in particular, I'll just put it in the same category as Tommy, there were people who dressed like this in the 80s.

Although Chimney got encephalitis-blocked, we learn from Maddie that he was on his way to the party. This is very possibly what he chose to wear for the occasion, it's not even casual, it's more business casual. In fact, this is the same shirt he wore to the Lee's a couple days ago, but this time he loses the jacket and puts on more informal pants.

We know he's not too stoke about going to a bachelor party and he's getting progressively sicker at that point, so it's understandable he would be the last person to wear a costume for the party.

In short, outside of Buck and Eddie, no one wear costumes to the bachelor party except for Hen, who wears the wrong one. I believe this scene is meant to be a silly little set up for Chimney's disappearance, but if we decide to read too much into, the only person who comes out looking less than positive is, unfortunately, Buck (and a bit Eddie for encouraging him).

Buck insists on throwing the party despite the continuous disapproval and refusal of the groom himself, whom the whole wedding is supposed to be about. But everyone understands Buck is doing it out of love, he just wants to celebrate Madney's epic love story, so they all show up the best they can even though they are mildly annoyed. They take time out of their busy lives, stay for a bit, then return to their obligations when it becomes clear that the night isn't going anywhere without Chimney's presence. At the end of the day, Buck didn't know Chimney was sick, his excessive enthusiasm also isn't that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but if you really want to read this scene by itself as the writers painting one of the characters in less than favorable light, it would be Buck.

Ravi is totally in it for the free food though.

[wilwheaton]

"Woke," you see, expands and contracts depending upon the momentary needs of authoritarian figures like DeSantis. When teachers are stocking shelves, "woke" is a massive category, covering thousands of books, to the point where it's easier not to let kids read at all. But when deflecting criticism, "woke" is minuscule, covering almost no books at all. The brilliance of "woke" is that it is Schrödinger's cat as a political concept. A book is both "woke" and "un-woke," depending on the moment. In the classroom, the book is "woke" and forbidden. Outside, when speaking to reporters, it's not "woke." Indeed, the victims are blamed for misreading "woke," probably because they are too "woke," but of course, they will never actually be told what it would take to not be "woke." This is hardly the first time that Republicans have latched onto deliberately amorphous terms to convey a sense of outrage while evading responsibility to define what exactly the hell they are on about. "Marxism," "socialism," "political correctness," "demonic," "sexualization": The world of right-wing propaganda is rife with terms that have been appropriated and rendered meaningless, allowing conservatives to apply them to everything. A Republican loves an empty signifier. Specificity invites rational discourse. And rationality is the death of reactionary politics.

Why the GOP is obsessed with "woke" — but can't define it

[genderkoolaid]

Good deaths, from a suicidist perspective, are those perceived and constructed as natural and involuntary. Dying of old age, illness, or even from a tragic accident is cast as normal, although unfortunate. Voluntary or chosen deaths through suicide or assisted suicide (as the raging social and ethical debates show) are often cast as unnatural and undesirable. The attrition of the fantasy of a good death becomes possible through the queering and transing of suicidality. Berlant invites us to think critically about all forms of cruel optimism that, while binding subjects to hope for something better to come, slowly kill marginalized populations. This is exactly what is happening with suicidal people: Suicidist preventionist scripts slowly but surely cause more harm than good, and eventually more deaths, by forcing suicidal people to remain silent before completing their suicide. Forms of cruel optimism thus represent “‘technologies of patience’ that enable a concept of the later to suspend questions about the cruelty of the now” (28). In that sense, queer and trans activists’/scholars’ discourses on LGBTQ suicidality represent somatechnologies of “patience” that put forth the hope of a better future but simultaneously erase “the cruelty of the now” stemming from suicidist structures and norms.

Undoing Suicidism: A Trans, Queer, Crip Approach to Rethinking (Assisted) Suicide by Alexandre Baril (pages 132-133)

[bestworstcase]

Your post re: Salem's attitudes towards magic got me thinking about "Why spend our lives trying to redeem these humans, when we can replace them with what they could never be?" from Lost Fable again. I'm finding it a little difficult to blame people for believing she thinks the current crop of humans are just inferior when the only subject on offer in that sentence is "these humans." Of course when you stop to think for two seconds why Salem says or does anything she does it makes total sense that her hangup is with the gods, but that just makes me wonder even more why write the script like that? How unreliable is the direct dialogue in Jinn's vision supposed to be taken vs. her narration? (The simplest read of that episode seems to be of course the narration is biased per the question asked, but otherwise it's a frame narrative for the flashbacks which may or may not be more objective portrayals of events. The fact that the characters are also physically witnessing these scenes means they can't be 100% objective I think, but still leaves open the question of what's skewed and by how much.)

Unreliable or not, it's just a surprisingly absolute statement to put in her mouth considering how often we're invited to question her motivations everywhere else.

i do take the dialogue in the lost fable to be accurate to what the characters said, perhaps with some smudginess if what we’re seeing is ozpin’s memories exactly – in which case the dialogue in scenes he wasn’t present for is suspect because it’s what he imagines was said based on what salem told him, and the rest is probably closely accurate paraphrase because no one could be expected to remember the exact wording of conversations from several thousand years ago! but even then i would expect the parts he was there for to be reliable enough. 

so much rides on the lost fable and specifically this one line that it would be beyond cheap for the resolution to be “she didn’t say that at all, actually.”

the first time i watched the lost fable, i did intuitively interpret that line as salem alluding to the gods – so i think there’s probably some degree of her statement reading as ambiguous or not ambiguous depending upon how one habitually uses the word “redeem.” specifically: how precise one is about the verb requiring an indirect object. 

to ‘redeem’ something means to take some action to settle a debt, or redress a wrongdoing, which—inherently—implies the presence of a creditor or wronged party. in some contexts, the implied creditor is only an abstraction (think “the city’s robust public transportation is its only redeeming quality”—redemption is used here in a figurative sense to mean that the one making the statement dislikes everything but the city’s transit system); and in casual speech it’s fairly common to leave off the indirect object if it isn’t necessary to identify the wronged party (think the common phrasing of “so-and-so redeems themself”).

but while it isn’t incorrect to drop the indirect object, necessarily, there always is an indirect object; it isn’t possible to redeem a debt or a wrong that doesn’t exist, nor to have a debt without a creditor or a wrong without someone wronged. (as an aside, this is why redemption arc discourse tends to always be arguments about forgiveness—redemption does, inherently, definitionally, necessitate forgiveness—and this is also why i’m pedantic about differentiating ‘redemption arc’ vs ‘atonement arc’ vs ‘villain-to-hero arc’ and dislike the popular usage of redemption arc as an umbrella term.)

anyway, in simpler terms: when salem says “redeem these humans,” the apparent meaning of the next clause depends on whether or not one is predisposed to hear that phrase as a clipping and mentally append the implied indirect object, which makes her complete statement “why spend our lives trying to redeem these humans [from my sin in the eyes of the gods] when we could replace them with what they could never be?”

<- and then the question becomes, which “them” is she referring to? “these humans” or the gods who will judge whether redemption has been earned? her elision of the gods is entirely within the realm of common vernacular, and salem is a character who regularly circumlocutes (and earlier in the lost fable itself we have ozma’s quizzical “what are you saying?” signaling that salem’s speech is cryptic or confusing – because ozma doesn’t understand her; this is an intended trait versus the writers fumbling), and she says this in a moment of emotional distress (which she mostly bottles up, but while ozma is explaining all of this to her she’s leaning on the desk with her arms folded, listening intently – this is the same posture she has when she’s huddled in the shadows making herself miserable with conjurations of her children in 8.4).

so there’s quite a bit of weight here on the side of, “salem just discovered that her partner has been manipulating her into serving the gods she abhors throughout their entire relationship, she’s deeply shaken, she isn’t awesome at clearly articulating her thoughts in general; is it really surprising that she might misspeak to the tune of saying ‘them’ in reference to an (elided but necessarily implied) antecedent of ‘the gods’”

it (clearly) isn’t going to occur to most viewers as an obvious interpretation of the line, but i think it’s well within the bounds of what is reasonable for the narrative to later reveal that salem really meant this, particularly given how deliberate and how clear the storytelling themes are. definitely a risk, because some section of the audience is undoubtedly going to feel lied to and cry retcon, but rwby takes creative risks all the time.

and then there’s the ‘fairyales of remnant’ piece of it – the anthology is very much in dialogue with the lost fable across the board (on this see also ‘the two brothers’ presaging the thematic treatment of the brothers in v9, and ozpin’s paired commentaries on ‘the infinite man’ + ‘the girl in the tower’ being discussions of truth, propaganda, and forgiveness). so why does ‘the shallow sea’ begin like this:

Long ago, before the fish had scales, before the birds had feathers, and before the turtles had shells, when our god still walked and crawled and slithered the earth, there were only Humans and animals. (And Grimm. There have always been Grimm. There will always be Grimm. But those creatures don’t figure in this story, so just put them out of your mind, if you can.)

and end like this, after a story about the god of animals leading their chosen people to transform by submersion in magical waters, to the horror of those humans who refuse to change: 

From that moment on, there have been animals, Humans, and Faunus. And the descendants of the Humans who turned away from our god’s great gift have always carried envy in their hearts. To this day, they resent us for reminding them of what they are not and what they never can be.

humans and animals (and grimm) -> animals and humans and faunus, and the last line – the mythic explanation for human hatred of faunus – is a nearly direct repetition of the last thing salem says in the lost fable?

now obviously not everyone can be expected to read ancillary material like the fairytale anthology, and that’s why the shell game with the implied indirect object matters; but it is interesting that ‘the shallow sea’ is stated to be a very old oral tradition (one which “contains deep truths,” no less) and that it repeats that line in a context that is quite plainly not about genocide – but rather cultural pride in the face of intense, often violent, persecution. 

this story also 1. explicitly belongs to a closed tradition, and 2. is (obviously) one ozma knows despite there being no indication that he’s ever reincarnated as a faunus. which – together with the story’s age – adds up to at least the implication that it is possible he heard this story from salem, because the reasons she might be conversant in ancient faunus oral traditions are. well. obvious. 

…and if that’s so, then ‘the shallow sea’ as written in the fairytale anthology completely recontextualizes salem’s last statement in the lost fable as salem quoting from a faunus creation myth both she and ozma knew in order to express her rejection of the brothers’ mandate, which would 1. neatly explain why ozma seems to have understood exactly what she meant even though none of the lost fable witnesses picked up on it, and 2. provide an elegant and very simple opportunity to ease the general audience into this revelation by having a character in vacuo retell this myth, using that same closing line. you don’t even need to mention salem directly – the turn of phrase is memorable enough that a lot of viewers will go “…why does that sound eerily familiar” and that plants a seed for later. (or if you’re going for more of a sudden record scratch moment, salem is the one declaiming.)

from a character standpoint, it also makes a lot of sense for salem to respond to ozma in this way – his liking for stories is, one presumes, not a new thing that developed after the ozlem kingdom’s collapsed, and he also clearly isn’t just cynically using fairytales to deceive and manipulate – else he wouldn’t have apologized to the kids by referencing ‘the girl who fell through the world’ and comparing himself to alyx. stories are just important to him and part of how he communicates.

so if salem heard everything his god told him and then said “no, none of that matters, why spend our lives trying to redeem these humans when we could [paraphrases the conclusion of a story where the hateful envious people who refuse to change are simply sent home and not allowed to live in the harsh but free new world with the people who chose to embrace change]” – she made an effort to say what she meant in his language, and what she meant was either 1. figuratively associating the brothers with the envious humans who were sent home and “these humans” with the faunus who were now free to determine their own fates, or 2. “okay yeah these humans aren’t great, have you considered more faunus as a solution” (<- this would be extremely funny if it turns out the shallow sea is a more literal story than i think it is, but i think it’s much less likely).

more broadly, to the question of why the line is written that way – i can only speculate based on what i would be thinking in the writer’s shoes, and the overall structure of the narrative around salem – but i imagine the absoluteness is sort of the point. it’s meant to be a really shocking and frightening thing to hear coming out of her mouth, while also being, if you pause to think very precisely about what she said, quite plausible as a verbal stumble – the alternative antecedent of “the gods” for “them” is implied and eliding the indirect object of “redeem” is common vernacular – and then there’s this other possibility hinted in an ancillary text that she might have actually been quoting a story as a verbal shorthand both she and ozma understood. 

there’s a narrative expectation that the viewer will be right there with the kids making the same snap judgment about what salem meant – because i think the kids all absolutely did take this at face value as a statement of genocidal intent. the story itself is structured like a nesting doll such that each new revelation appears at a glance to be the whole story, but isn’t and in fact has large gaps and details that don’t add up which become glaringly obvious as soon as you reach the next layer and look back, but if you’re paying careful attention as you go it’s also quite possible to piece together the missing pieces. 

delivering information this way trains the audience (…mostly) to expect that the information we’re given is incomplete and maybe not wholly accurate. the advantage here is that even if the vast majority of the audience is completely blindsided by a specific reveal, for most viewers that’s going to feel really exciting – this happened in v9 with the lore reveals about the brothers, massive overnight reversal in the mainstream fandom views of darkness with the general mood being that it was cool – as opposed to feeling tricked or lied to by a “retcon.”

and that builds up a certain kind of trust, that the story is a puzzle but it isn’t going to cheat. it’s also a bit of a challenge or an invitation for the audience to try to figure out what’s coming, like a mystery.

with salem, i’d bet that one line in the lost fable is supposed to seem weirder and weirder the more you think about it, because… why doesn’t it track with anything she says before that point in the lost fable? why does the story begin with salem waxing poetic about humanity’s virtues? why does the narrative make such a big deal out of nobody knowing what salem wants AFTER the main characters witnessed a seemingly open-and-shut declaration of her “true” intention?

at the same time, the amount of explanation required to argue for an alternate interpretation – even if it’s really not complex or a reach – compared to the ease of just taking the statement exactly at face value, in and of itself is both a misdirection (most of the audience will take the path of least resistance, and hopefully enjoy the journey the story takes them on while leading them to the eventual right answer) and sort of the thesis with respect to the storytelling themes. salem thinks coolsville sucks!

but i am also very willing to consider (because of my own intuitive reaction to the line) that the writers perhaps did not mean for it to seem quite as unambiguous as the general audience and most of the fandom ended up taking it, because if you’re spending a lot of time immersed in a specifically theological context regarding redemption (which the writers probably would’ve been, given the importance of the religious narrative in the lost fable and in relation to this line in particular) – and if you’re also in the habit of being very precise and careful about how you phrase things (which is true of how rwby is written in general) – and if you’re writing what might be the most critical episode in a complicated puzzle box story, whose fulcrum is a red herring that is also meant to provide a clue to anyone who thinks to look at it more closely and with an open mind — then yeah i can see a scenario where the writers may have felt that the specific wording of salem’s statement was more ambiguous than it actually is. in which case the echo in ‘the shallow sea’ might have been a bit of an effort to correct course by giving the subset of fans invested enough to read the fairytales (<- the cohort most likely to be keen to unravel the puzzle) an additional hint. who knows.

[sgiandubh]

As usual you to try connect things that have nothing to with Sam and Cait to prove your fantasy. You have zero direct evidence proving relationship, marriage, children with Sam and Cait. ZERO. You are also admitting if people on screen are involved they are terrible actors. Give it up. As Sam again is off on vacation alone next week, beginning traveling for the next 8 weeks alone for various appointments which have nothing to do with Cait

Dear (returning, I suppose) Beauchamp and Fraser Anon,

Unlike other people in this fandom, I do not need to invent aggressive Anons: you provide the material almost on a daily basis, using the same old, same tired arguments. A very primitive harassment technique, indeed, that pushed many reasonable people in the shadows.

Because this is what y'all want. One of yours had the courage and honesty to write it down, just because a fencer (who should have known better) went on to engage with your faction. She got this response:

Note I did not publish the handle of the person who wrote this. I am only discussing people when prompted or when necessary. I usually discuss problems - and this is a big problem.

In other words, 'believe what you want, but verboten to write or discuss or even question'. I think it says a lot about your degree of tolerance and your democratic values. Or lack thereof.

I did not connect anything. I simply posted something and left it on the table for debate.

And now you invite me to 'give it up'. Because I piss off many, many people on both sides of the Great Divide and I am perfectly aware of it. Exactly what you want me to do, of course. Exactly what I am not going to do, Anon.

So, for the last time:

What really pisses you off is that I always did things my own way. Refused to post funeral pics. Refused to endlessly discuss the number of children S and C might have. Refused to disclose (completely against it) and discuss (unless absolutely necessary to do so) legal documents your side always ends up by revealing one way or another. And you do so usually via Anons, because you have no clue of what they really mean and you think you know (and you don't). Oh, and lest I forget: refused to judge C's attitude or behavior towards this fandom. Because Anon, I honestly don't know how I would react (if I were her) with all the bullshit you managed to ventilate their way and/or the brutal pressure under which she is living her life.

For all these reasons and then some more, you have decided I have to leave this fandom. Because this page, notwithstanding its mistakes, annoys the crap out of you. Because it strives to bring up reasonable dialogue, not circular discourse. Because it took upon itself to answer your insults: usually with irony, something that somehow escaped you. Because it managed to prove that when you deal politely with likeminded people, differences between factions of the same community can be put, if only for five minutes, aside. Because it also brought (or tried to) a new, no nonsense perspective informed by who I am and what I do. And because it is read on a daily basis by people who began to feel encouraged and valued simply for who they are: kind people, sharing a similar point of view of a given situation.

So guess what, Anon? I am not going anywhere.

Live with it. I can live with the daily dose, for sure.

I am also absolutely impressed by the illiterate confidence (I am sick and tired to correct your bad grammar and spelling) with which you suggest to be in the know of S's travel agenda or C's whereabouts. I should also hope someone, somewhere, financially rewards your efforts: if not, maybe you should ask them for a raise, or something. You surely are a very, very dedicated troll.

[bengiyo]

She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat 2 Eps 1-4 Stray Thoughts

The lesbian sister to WDYEY is back and I am so ready to see these two get deeper into their romance. They had barely started when we left.

Episode 1

THEM. I missed Yuki and Kasuga as much as I missed Shiro and Kenji.

Love that both WDYEY and SLTCSLTE are struggling with inflation.

God this rice bowl looks great.

Ladies, I know food is pricey lately but you cannot sacrifice these meals together. This is an important aspect of your relationship. Can we just discuss modifying the menu??

I love the work bestie. She cuts through the noise and calls it what it is. Nomoto is lonely because she stopped hanging out with the person she's falling for.

Kasuga is definitely not moving out. You see that TV and chair? She's settled. I love her because she does everything real big.

Yes! Have a mochi party! You both like hanging out together!

I was into the mochi pizza concept until they added corn. No thanks

Smash cutting into Nomoto fighting off the itis is exactly what I hoped for in the mochi party.

They're both so tentative with each other, but at least the fondness is obvious.

Episode 2

Wow they captured all of lesbian film discourse in one tweet. The only part they missed was a comment about it being a period piece.

Of course she's gonna watch this film from her kitchen table with a tablet. I get it but you have a friend with an enormous TV.

Baby's first gay film. It'll do that to you. I'm fairly certain my first film was Get Real (1998). I'm not sure what my first lesbian one was. It's either Chasing Amy (1997), But I'm a Cheerleader (1999) or Pariah (2011).

Oh good. Nomoto and Sayama were both offered positions. I was worried they'd be outted against each other.

We have a young woman who just moved in who has a bunch of quality ingredients and no idea what to do with them..she looks a bit disheveled and tired. She is in the lesbian food drama. Oh yeah. It's all coming together.

This was really excellent. The imagery of all this raw potential in the new tenant via her ingredients she doesn't know how to use, with Kasuga's ability to move them around, and Nomoto's ability to find a way to turn it into something delicious. I am ready.

Yes, Kasuga! Suggest meal dates! Nomoto's eyes dilate every time!

Episode 3

I like Sayama a lot. I appreciate that they have her pursuing het romance so I don't have to wonder about romantic tension between her and Nomoto.

There's such a huge demisexual component to Nomoto that I really love.

Wow, it's actually so unexpected to see a romance say that the big swells of emotion in film don't match the experience some of us are having. This is how I've felt my entire life.

Nagumo, you have two women who live alone who want to feed you. You gotta let them in, girl.

Kasuga is always so direct about how much she enjoys spending time with Nomoto.

I love Kasuga so much. She asked Nomoto how to receive the news about her new project at work and didn't assume.

I like these two admitting that they like their lives right now.

Episode 4

I love that Nomoto is doing research now that she knows how to describe her feelings.

I'm so invested in these cabbage rolls you have no idea. I need Nagumo to eat one.

450 yen is not bad for that amount of food! Food is so expensive in America!

I'm losing it over this sushi mat business.

I'm worried about Nagumo! She doesn't seem unloved by her family, but she's clearly going through it!

Nagumo is a gamer, and she put her fridge on the opposite wall Kasuga and Nomoto did.

The Japanese really snapped when they decided that soup was a requirement of most meals.

These rolls look delicious.

I hope the friend on Twitter gets revealed.

I love these two so much, and I'm glad we have 20 episodes if this is the romantic pace we're moving at! I like them balancing the challenges of maintaining their dynamic in the changing world, and I like that they were both willing to invite someone else into their space. I especially love that Kasuga encouraged the young woman to be safe and watch out for herself. I can't wait for their romance to be out in the open and for the new neighbor to comment on it.

[onesunofagun]

The implications on Ganondorf and his background in TotK suggest some very interesting things to me.

First of all, like. I love him. He specifically did not disappoint me. His JP audio fucks so hard. I love his design. He's glorious.

And Hyrule as an imperialistic divine hegemony is not a new concept in the slightest, obviously, the Ganondorf corner of the fandom have known and discoursed about the potential story ramifications of those themes since OoT, but Fujibayashi really went ham on it in his run. (And look. Zelda is made in Japan. Framing a divine imperial authority as a good thing narratively is pretty par for the course JP nationalism, to be really blunt. It is what it is. Grain of salt.)

But I do appreciate that it revisited some OoT plot beats even if it... really drove that point home again in retrospect

I guess new fans are in for a treat unpacking that;;;

Anyway in the BG of that, I'm interested in the particular minutia of what was happening with this Ganondorf specifically to flavour his particular brand of 'fuck you'

And a few important points that give broader context to things are these and I'll put under a cut bc spoilers obviously--

Rauru's repeated 'invitations' to join Hyrule and benefit from their protection (presumably some advanced technological access or strong magical allies as part of that promise, which I believe is probably anti-monster focused within world context) which Ganondorf as a King has very much ignored (and good for him tbh).

Clearly, he has an interest in keeping Gerudo independent.

Ganondorf is acknowledged as a Hero to his people. Not only does this heavily resonate with the very particular themes of his actual character design and both its Buddhist reference and Samurai trope homages, but like-- we're actively shown an explanation for WHY he may be considered such.

Being who he is, he's already magically inclined with a kinship to monsters. We are unapologetically shown him in command of a Molduga Army. Trained Moldugas, under his command-- and not under specifically his mystical command, either, but musically conditioned. Trained to follow sound based command cues, which makes plentiful sense given Moldugas are sound sensitive and Ganondorf usually has musical inclinations. Plus it's Zelda franchise, magic command music is also very much a thing but--

Moldugas are, at least medicinally, very important resources. On a larger scale, they're also a very present threat to desert dwellers and travellers, and from the looks of it in much larger numbers, back then.

Given the context of everything, Ganondorf was a badass even before 'he took a magic relic and fucked up the Hyrulean Royal Family' as he tends to do. Sporting as ever, he fights Link one on one as just a Gerudo, also showing once again that he does in fact have some personal code of honour when it comes to fighting worthy opponents. But it gives us a yardstick of how capable he probably was even before he nabbed the tear.

Capable enough of tangling with most big uglies in the desert, such as Moldugas, which he has at least trained and at most maybe even raised.

Exemplified Power as he ever is, I'd like to point out that in this case, he's demonstrating a flipside of what Power looks like-- benevolence, protection, guardianship. Once again, we have the pieces that indeed he is capable of that and showing that to his own people. He also flexes the Molduga Army as a show of Gerudo and its own power.

To anyone other than Rauru, who is an incredibly powerful Sage already, a Molduga Army would have absolutely won the day, I think. The reaction of the other Gerudo is pretty telling.

Ganondorf's faction were deeply shaken by the display of Rauru's power. And as a guy that's been knocking on your King's door and saying 'you should come and bend knee to me' when Gan already has the worst problem in the sands sorted out?

Very understandable.

From their perspective -- what do they need protection from, exactly, if not Hyrule itself? Their monster problem is a non-issue. From the viewpoint of Gerudo loyal to Ganondorf, everything about this looks like a pressured threat.

Which comes back around, of course, to what Ganondorf plainly lays out to Rauru when he gains the tear-- this is because Rauru tried to control him. And yes, that's Ganondorf and his pride and his nature in full tilt too. He will not be pulled beneath anyone or anything.

But that's the point about that hubris on Rauru's part, he felt superior and he underestimated both Gerudo and Ganondorf-- as a warrior and a leader, and as somebody who was likely managing things very well on his own.

But I mentioned factions. This is something that should be made clear.

Pointed ears are, canonically, associated with faithfulness to Hylia and/or the worship of Hyrulean spirits. This gets debated all the time, but that's the fact of it. We have been shown again and again that humans from outside of Hyrule have round ears (as long ears are associated with hearing the voices of the gods; ie being open to them). Exposure to Hyrulean aligned divine elements can lend pointedness to previously totally round ears. We see this happen.

It has been doubled down upon that the ancient Gerudo (such as in oot and FSA, with FSA having the introduction of the floral association in Gerudo design and OoT heavily centering mirrors in their spiritual practices) worship different deities, whether derivatives of Din or Hylia or completely different myth. The Goddess of the Sands has been confirmed as a deity that Hyrule itself views as evil and false.

I generally interpret this to mean that part of the reason boils down to this-- Hyrule's main concern is that pointed ears are living lives closer to the gods, and therefore more insulated against corruption and demonic influences. Rather fittingly, their patron's foremost spiritual antagonist tends to find his reincarnation in unprotected, non-Hyrulean tribes who are 'open' to demons.

Now that may be another layer to what Rauru means when he says protection, also. Worshipping the 'right gods' affords certain protections (and certainly supports the security of Hyrule itself).

In SkSW, by the way, there's a really cool point of questioning early human society too-- the fire temple depicts demons and monsters and snakes quite a bit, and these were built in a time when I suspect the humans were mostly a large proto-people.

Sidenote: I think Hylia's faithful went to Skyloft and generally shook out to be the Hylians we know later, where some stayed on Earth to serve Hylia's plan and became Sheikah, many more people were transformed into demons in a reverse-Batreaux situation, and some humans just scattered far and wide to avoid conflict.

Anyway that temple depicts Bokoblins making hand signs and long story short, the overall motif and meaning of that temple shows demons offering to teach things, approaching humans with a different kind of enlightenment. Whoever built that temple was very much in a state of open spiritual and mystical curiosity.

Now the takeaway there is, ultimately, the ancient Gerudo very much seem to be descended from such a sect of people. They have their own gods, and they're not part of Hyrule proper, and they have round ears because of it.

Botw departed from that very clearly, but in doing so, also erased and replaced almost all traces of the ancient Gerudo deities with new Hylian analogues.

The Seven/Eight Heroines count as Hylianised deities, and I believe the reason for this-- first suspected in botw but I feel it's weightier after totk-- is that they represent tear holders / Hylia aligned Sages in the seven group (edit: and apparently a Hero in the Eighth) such as those in the decline timeline. They are functionally the reason that the Gerudo of modern day possess long ears-- even where they are selective in what they worship, they are still worshipping Hylia aligned aspects of Divine Hyrule.

And in case this wasn't absolutely irrefutable to me beforehand, the ancient Gerudo Sage from Rauru's time is both loyal to him, and possesses pointed ears under her camel mask.

I would also point out the Hylians of Rauru's time seem to have longer ears in general, probably owing to having a Zonai King, ostensibly a Hylia aligned Deity himself.

Ganondorf's ears are rounded, of course. He clearly doesn't believe in Hyrulean worship even in lip service, and it's little wonder why.

But following another beat of OoT, that ancient sage is a very obvious Nabooru type character. And, in much the same way, that suggests that even when Ganondorf was King of the Gerudo only, there may have already been factions splitting up amongst their people based on spiritual practices.

I don't think it's beyond the pale to speculate there may have been a mixture of Gerudo at the time who had both pointed ears and round, signalling the confusion from and conflict between their spiritual leaders.

It seems likely that a schism probably existed, regardless of ears, but that schism-- and the sage who may well have been leading it-- may have been caused by people who decided respond to those calls from Rauru and join Hyrule without their King.

Which gives a lot more context to why Ganondorf would be in the mood to send a giant Molduga shaped "back off" Rauru's way, also.

I take particular note that Ganondorf's destruction intentions are faced towards Hyrule and her allies, and specifically those who oppose him in that goal. And while I concur that his whole Red Inheritance party ran hard and may well have had a decent hand in frightening the bejeezus out of the Gerudo who were previously faithful to him-- maybe even inadvertently sent some running for camp Hyrule-- it seems he considers modern day Gerudo, fully converted to pro-Hyrulean status, to be traitors.

We have no idea what happened to the Gerudo who followed him, so that's really up in the air as to how messy that may have gotten.

Even the woman who plays to summon the Molduga has pointed ears though, so I tend to lean that his camp got converted to Heroine worship (or at least those with pointed ears mostly did if the mixed ear situation was happening).

But heck, it would not be the first time some Gerudo got ran outta dodge after a King went belly up.

Food for thought.