#tw potential mentions of genocide

[grizzlytreyu]

Something that grinds my gears

Hello everyone, Atreyu again….. long time no rant actually!

Today I have something on the chopping block that hasn’t been called much to call out so for those who are left out via guilt trip, I hope this post is to your liking(but however if you support Israel, get the fuck out of my profile, im serious). I might get hate for this one but oh well, they’re just mad Im speaking common sense.

So, anyways, onto the topic. I am extremely concerned about the wellbeing of the people of Palestine and whatever Israel is doing is very unforgivable but lately Ive been seeing reels from pro-Palestine accounts saying “oh, if you skip this bideo, you will be denying access to this family’s freedom” come on, that introduction is so stupid, cant you ask politely for the video instead of guilt tripping, thats not cool at all. Its not just pro-palestine accounts having this ussue but also some people who are actually from Palestine, I understand their pain but that is no excuse to be shouting “I dont forgive anyone who watches this video without liking/sharing it” like, I understand you are suffering but honestly, please ask nicely, most people could even feel horrible watching the beginning of the video, especially those with ADHD, Autism, etc, etc. Sometimes guilt trip could lead to something far more worse like suicide.

I dont really understand why the maker of the video would guilt trip the viewer into donating or even sharing but in reality, they’re actually just making it hard for the viewer judging by what they say before talking about whoever needs help.

In conclusion, I think we all need to stop guilt tripping others into posting about Palestine and just ask politely before talking about someone who needs help. Guilt trip is intolerable and theres a chance it could even lead into something far more.

Thank you!

Anyways, Free Palestine ❤️🍉

[lighthouseborn]

this is kind of me still marveling at that i can make gifs that look like this now but also i am just. thinking thinking thinking about how Afraid of salazar henry is, is all. what a flinch. he didn't even see salazar kill anyone he just Knows that he did and the rest is the immense vibes of Bad coming off this thing that is entirely too far into his personal space at all times

[nardo-headcanons]

About Shisui Uchiha

just some shower thoughts i had about him. this is very headcanon heavy and rather vague at times.

tw for talks about suicide, manipulation, trauma, abuse, etc

tagging: @uchihaharlot @pxssy-stuntin-for-itxchi @lalalover33-blog @burning-bubble @naruto-scribblings-j

Unlike Itachi, who was born during the last year of the great Shinobi war, it is safe to say that Shisui was born while it was still going on. So naturally, he was exposed to the worst side humanity had to offer, most likely traumatizing him in the process.

His mother is never mentioned, so I assume she must have died during his birth or in his early childhood. His father, most likely ravaged by illness before he even entered the battlefield, lost his left leg, leaving him with phantom pains and high medical bills. As a born shinobi, Shisui’s father lacked the funds and education to pursue any other path of career, leaving his child as the only breadwinner of his family. Shisui probably had to spend his entire childhood and youth slaving away just to keep his father and himself afloat. Additionally, he took care of a terminally i’ll man who didn’t even remember his son’s name. Of course, this would lead to Shisui being very perceptive of the psychology of the ones around him, how else could he search for a sign of his father’s state health changing?

Shisui often spent time wondering what it’s like to have a family, a family in which he is allowed to be what he is: a child. Someone who is cared for, someone who is looked after. Despite being an Uchiha, his relation to Kagami Uchiha - the Uchiha allied with Tobirama, the very person planting the seed for all the discrimination the Uchiha would face, up to a point of their genocide, would probably lead him to feel ostracized within his own clan. And like everyone of us, he is trying to find the balance between individuality and belonging - the latter being the one he lacked. His abilities as an Uchiha become a defining factor of identity for him, leading to him being willing to let a comrade via withholding aid - just on the basis of that comrade potentially being stronger than him. Once his comrade dies, the young Uchiha is ravaged by feelings of guilt, by the awareness that the blood of his friend is on his hand.

But nevertheless, he is blessed with a new Uchiha ability - the mangekyou sharingan. His entire life he had to enter a role he didn’t want to be in, robbing him of memories he could have had. So what better mangekyou ability to have than the one that alters memories, and, in extension, alters your role in the world?

Shisui’s resentment against his Uchiha identity starts bubbling up inside him again, and being a shinobi who frequents B- or even A-Rank missions as a literal teenager (how else would you pay for your father’s medical debt as a shinobi, eh?) he was closer to the village from the start. Hailed as the strong and talented Uchiha boy, taking on missions to serve his village, behind the facade a broken kid forced to grow up way too quickly. His first serious doubts begin when he is forced to kill Mukai Kohinata, a direct reflection of Shisui, just the other way around: a father wanting nothing but funds to care for his dying child.

Things don’t get better when the tension between the village and the Uchiha rise. His own brethren or the collective - who will you support? Getting into Shisui’s mind and twisting his perception of what’s right is an easy game for Danzo, almost too easy. A civil war breaking out in Konoha would be a repetition of his initial trauma - the one thing Shisui wants to prevent the most. Shisui starts feeling conflicted, until he finally stumbles upon THE miracle solution: forcefully keeping up the status quo by manipulating the leader of the revolution - an unpleasant reality, but better than the Uchiha clan’s extermination or a civil war breaking out, right? To Shisui, atleast. And honestly, who could blame him? As a ninja who graduated young, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he lacks the methodical and critical thinking outside of the parameters of violence and manipulation he is used to from Danzo and the shinobi world.

And then it happens. He agrees to suppress the revolution of his own ethnic group just for the sake of keeping up a false sense of peace, and suddenly, his co conspirators, the man that is supposed to be guarding him, leading him, suddenly abandons him and steals his eye? Shisui’s entire identity as the Uchiha boy from Konoha collapses and he doesn’t know what to think or believe anymore. In his last moments, he becomes aware of the utter pointlessness of the killing and the brutality of the shinobi system, the sheer feeling of powerless overwhelming him. At this point, death seems like a sweeter option than continuing to live powerlessly in such a system.

Shisui is a skilled ninja, but not always in contact with his emotions. Therapy is a rarity in the leaf, with even the counselors themselves not being able to give advise outside of the parameters of what’s “acceptable” in the hidden leaf.

So, what better way to hide your agony than behind a -albeit manufactured- goofy smile?

[inkcurlsandknives]

Hello, I am very excited for your book. However, since I have some things I Can't Read™, I wanted to ask if there will be some way to learn about potential triggers beforehand. I usually use does the dog die /the warnings section on story graph, but that only works if people already filled them in and I'd love to get your book as soon as it's released.

So, my question is, will there be a list of trigger /content warnings somewhere prior to release?

Thank you in advance and I hope you're having a nice day!

Hi, and thank you so much for this ask! Saints of Storm and Sorrow deals with some heavy topics in what I hope is a thoughtful and impactful but non-gratuitous way. I actually originally sent all my queries and full requests to Agents and Editors with a list of Content Warnings. The ARCs also have content warnings printed inside. However I don't believe the first printings plan to have CWs so I've been meaning to get a list of the CWs up on my website. I'll also go ahead and share it here. I actually have never been on Story Graph but I need to fix that and get more familiar. Manuscript Content Warnings: On page portrayal of colonization which includes sexism, racism and homophobia as well as emotional abuse. On page violence/murder, natural disasters, abortion, self-harm, torture, consensual sex. Mention of/off page: child abuse/pedophilia, genocide, suicide.

Happy to answer any additional questions about Saints, and thank you for your interest in my story! If Saints will have to be a pass I completely understand. Maybe you can check out some of my other short works. Another filipino fantasy focused one would be Dying Rivers and Broken Hearts a witchy 2nd chance sapphic romantasy about saving the Bakunawa/Laho of Manila Bay, (TW blood/blood magic, off page death, animal sacrifice) and in June I have a short coming out in the Of Stardust Anthology with a Sapphic retelling of the Dugong Wife.

[lachaparraa]

Woman

⚠ Tw: Narcissism, Violence, sexism, Mentions of "cannibalism", violence, personality disorders, allusions to psychopathy, mentions of sadism, violence against women, female coding, death, femicide, genocide, manipulation, slight allusions to racism in Japan ⚠

+18

I was going to write for kokushibo first but Douma has a lot of potential in this concept...

Woman in General

Douma has a particularly complex and problematic relationship with women, deeply influenced by his childhood and emotional development. When analyzing this aspect of his personality, it is crucial to consider both the psychological factors and early experiences that shaped his view and treatment of women.

Starting with his childhood, Douma's upbringing was marked by a lack of genuine affection and a distorted upbringing. He grew up in an environment where he was considered a divine figure from a young age, which distorted his perception of himself and others. This environment deprived him of authentic emotional experiences and isolated him from developing normal, healthy relationships. The lack of maternal love and attention likely contributed to his inability to develop empathy and genuine emotional connections, leading to significant consequences in the future.

Despite his past, Douma is extremely charismatic and charming, which allows him to attract many women. He uses his appearance and superficial charm to gain the trust and admiration of those around him.

He often presents himself as a protector and provider, especially in the context of his cult (as seen with Kotoha). This may seem positive on the surface, as he offers shelter and a sense of belonging to his female followers.

But this is only on the surface. Douma uses his charm and charisma to manipulate and control women. His relationship with them is based on power and domination, rather than respect and equality.

His inability to feel empathy means that he sees women as mere objects for his satisfaction or as tools for his purposes. This manifests in his cruelty and lack of consideration for their feelings and well-being.

As seen in the anime and manga, Douma is extremely cruel and does not hesitate to commit acts of violence against women. This behavior may be rooted in his own lack of understanding of what a healthy relationship means.

In summary, Douma's relationship with women can be seen as a manifestation of his own dehumanization and emotional alienation. His lack of a loving maternal figure and a distorted upbringing prevented him from developing a healthy understanding of interpersonal relationships. The early idealization and worship of his figure exacerbated his narcissism and his distorted perception of reality. Douma does not see women as individuals with their own feelings and rights, but as extensions of his own desire for control and power. This objectification of women is a reflection of his inability to emotionally connect with others and his constant search for validation and personal satisfaction.

feminist women

In the Taisho era, Japan experienced a blend of modernization and traditionalism. Radical feminism, though less prominent than in the West, was beginning to gain some traction. However, gender roles were still very traditional and restrictive.

In this context, Douma would see any movement seeking to change the status quo as a threat to his dominance. The feminist struggle, with its goal of empowerment and autonomy, would directly clash with his desire for absolute control. However, let's remember that Douma is an intelligent being known for being a manipulator and devourer of women.

Being a skilled and charismatic manipulator, he might initially appear respectful and admiring of the radical feminist movement. This would serve him to gain the trust and sympathy of the women involved. By showing superficial interest and support, he could seem like an ally, which would unconsciously attract more women to his cult. By expressing support for women's emancipation and rights, he could attract those seeking a supportive environment and fight for equality, even though his intentions are selfish, manipulative, and aimed at feeding himself.

As expected, Douma's true nature is a drastic change from what he appears on the surface. He would see the radical feminist movement as a threat to his control and domination. He would use his charisma to manipulate the women in the movement, seeking to undermine their autonomy and turn their struggle into a tool for his service. His support would be a facade for control and domination.

He has no true empathy or respect for individual rights, including those of women. This could lead to acts of violence and cruelty against those who challenge his authority or resist manipulation.(femicide)

Douma would interact with women from the radical feminist party using a combination of superficial charm and ruthless manipulation. While he might feign support to gain influence and control, his true goal would be to undermine and destroy these women's autonomy and efforts. His lack of empathy and respect for individual rights would make him a dangerous and oppressive figure for any movement seeking equality and justice. The facade of support would only serve to perpetuate his own power and satisfy his narcissistic desires.

foreign women

Douma would show a genuine or at least superficial curiosity about foreign women due to his charismatic nature. This curiosity would translate into an apparent openness and willingness to learn about different cultures, which might initially make him seem inclusive and respectful.

He could display hospitality and courtesy, creating an atmosphere of acceptance and admiration towards cultural differences, making women feel comfortable and safe with him.

Similar to his approach with Japanese women, Douma could present himself as a protector and provider. In his role as a charismatic leader, he would offer a sense of security and belonging, which could be attractive to foreign women in a new and potentially hostile environment due to the historical period.

Despite the "good," Douma would still be a manipulator who lacks empathy. He might also show a subtle form of cultural domination, imposing his own culture and beliefs while minimizing or devaluing those of foreign women. This attitude could translate into condescending or paternalistic behavior.

Douma, with his manipulative and charismatic nature, would see foreign women as new opportunities to exert his control and power. Although he might initially show curiosity and hospitality, his lack of empathy and desire for domination would quickly manifest. Using his charm to manipulate and exploit their vulnerabilities, he would objectify them and minimize their cultural differences to maintain his own authority and satisfy his narcissistic desires. In a way, he would be even more dangerous to foreign women.

Curiously, he has no preferences regarding countries unlike Muzan or other demons. Douma accepts women regardless of their country, after all...ethnicity does not change the nutrients that women provide.

Conclusion

In conclusion, be careful with handsome men or those who are too kind or chivalrous...

Hi!, I hope you liked this analysis of Douma, thanks for reading and have a nice night.😴

Besitos😽💕

[shutterlens]

I will be moving my DeviantArt activity to my Instagram account

-

[tw: zionism, antisemitism mention, genocide, apartheid, financial abuse, emotional abuse, potentially distressing content]

-

To preface this post, I do not want to hear any argument about this from anyone. This may be an outright dangerous thing to because I am a complete financial dependent on my emotionally abusive father who will not let me donate money to any cause without his direct approval and has complete control over all of my essential information to the point of being under his insurance and him having total access to my bank account information, but it is something that I have to do anyway to prevent further platforming such a heinous website.

The link to my Instagram account:

However, I will not be advertising my Tumblr account as a main art account in any way because I do not want my emotionally abusive family to find out about this more personal account at any cost.

I will be moving all of my art, including series like Windows Humanized, to my Instagram account to protest DeviantArt's ongoing pro-genocide propaganda campaign and will no longer be posting any more art on my DeviantArt account.

I know that I will get a lot of hate for saying this (albeit as someone who's legally recognized as Roman Catholic but still looking for a way out of Christianity), but I am completely against the promotion of Zionist (colonialist promotion of a "Jewish homeland" in Palestine) apartheid genocide towards the Palestinian people that DeviantArt and its Israeli parent company Wix have done, especially in its recent propaganda campaign to get the users of DeviantArt to side with this oppressive regime.

In fact, Amnesty International, "a global movement of more than 10 million people who are committed to creating a future where human rights are enjoyed by everyone" (Amnesty International), considers Israel to be an apartheid regime in the following article:

My support towards the Palestinians, despite not being allowed to donate any money due to living in a very financially-controlling and staunchly pro-Israel family (despite trying to reason with them), should not be conflated with antisemitism or hostility of any kind towards the Jewish Community. In fact, there are countless amounts of members of the Jewish Community who are completely supportive of the Palestinian cause to the point where they have lost their jobs, been blacklisted, and more.

Examples: https://jewishcurrents.org/a-hebrew-teacher-called-herself-an-anti-zionist-she-was-fired https://lesbianchemicalplant.tumblr.com/post/636673678451605504/politicalsci

To conflate the condemnation of Israel's genocide of Palestine with antisemitism is dangerous promotion of propaganda.

Another example of an openly Jewish person who is in support of Palestine:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by matt bernstein (@mattxiv)

For those of you on here who are also in support of Palestine, I will also link a website made by Palestinians called "Decolonize Palestine", which educates about both Palestinian culture and their ongoing occupation and struggles, in addition to debunking popularized anti-Palestine propaganda.

The link to Decolonize Palestine can be found here:

I genuinely do not care if this post is deleted, if I get nastiness of any kind on this website for this post, or even if my DeviantArt account or other socials are deleted for this. I am completely in support of Palestine despite not being allowed to donate any money to the cause due to living in a financially abusive household and I refuse to hide it.

For those of you who follow my DeviantArt account, I will now be posting to my Instagram account every Sunday.

[potat-oh-no]

tags I use so you can stay safe:

for anyone new to tumblr, you can block tags by going to account settings > content you see > filtered tags. You can also block specific strings of text in account settings > content you see > filtered post content

#unreality for all goncharov stuff that pretends goncharov is real

#tw [potentially triggering topic] for explicit discussion of said topic

#cw [potentially triggering topic] for non-explicit discussion or mention of said topic

tags for good causes:

#free palestine (this tag will include mentions of genocide and war crimes)

#signal boost (this tag may include mentions of death, violence and other such topics)

#important (this tag may include mentions of death, violence and other such topics)

[brokenhardies]

Decode Tribunal Sneak Peak

TW: Brief mention to Hitler, as well as a mention of genocide

Just something I wanted to do before I forgot! Here we go!

Taglist

@darth-caillic​ @sterling-writes​ @ryutabas​ @reirvival​ @arrthurpendragon​ @foxesandmagic​​ (want to be added or removed? send an ask or a dm!)

"Wait, please!" Amber cried, causing Osiris and the Ennead - about to vanish back into the Overvoid - to take pause.

"What is it, Emissary?" Osiris asked.

"Just, please, let me plead our case without..." Amber paused, "That interloper getting involved. You're the Judge of the Dead, aren't you? You would know how dangerous Ammit is."

She began to walk across the area.

"She preys on the hearts of men - even with the slightest wrong, they're in her grasp." She paused, looking up at the Ennead. "She literally feeds on them, for any minor wrong they could commit. From as drastic as genocide, to as small as cutting in line."

It took a second for Osiris to understand what Amber was saying, as she stood in the middle and waited for a rebuttal. She gestured to them.

"Go on then," She began, "Tell me that isn't what she's doing."

"Ammit is a necessary evil," Nut interrupted, "She's there to keep people in line."


"Ah, so she's your Satan, isn't she?" Amber chuckled, "Wow, I thought polytheism didn't have a Satan."

She paused. "But seriously - does that work? Even with the threat of Hell, people still do awful things. When I first encountered Harrow - after he trailed my flatmate to his place of work and also stalked me - he mentioned people like Hitler and Pol Pot; both who had no qualms about doing what they did."

"There are some unscrupulous people out there," She continued, pacing once more. "How much do you wanna bet that instead of targeting those bad people, Ammit's gonna miss her mark and hit the next Martin Luther King Jr?"

"And people have the capacity to change!" She stopped pacing and looked up at the Ennead. "Tell me, do you not believe that people have that in them? To turn around and change? What good is killing them before they even make the effort?"

The Ennead did not respond. It was if they were thinking it over.

"Do you believe that is Harrow's plan?" Osiris asked, as Amber nodded.

"He told me himself." She stated. "He specifically mentioned waiting to weed a garden after the roses are dead. You banished Ammit because she was choosing to stray from her position of punishing those after they have died -- how is that different from what you are doing with Khonsu?"

"It is incredibly different, Emissary," Horus interrupted, "Khonsu's crimes are vast. He's responsible for several incidents. We have promised to not interfere."

"...Oh my God. You guys are running on Time Lord rules." Amber pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay... How to convince you guys... Think Amber, think..."

She muttered under her breath, as Marc recovered from his brief panic attack. He seemed confused and disorientated, watching as Amber tried valiantly to convince the Ennead to help them find Ammit's tomb. The trail that got dismantled when Harrow chose to intervene. Amber then finally came up with a reason, clearing her throat;

"You are Gods, correct?"

The Ennead nodded, looking at the incredibly intelligent Emissary as if she had three heads.

"Yes, I know, obvious question but--" She raised a finger, "What's the one thing Gods need more than anything? Worship. You said it yourself; humanity had abandoned you. If Ammit wiped out lets say... Half the population? Just a guesstimate. That knocks out fifty percent of your potential audience!"

She smirked. "If you thought humanity had abandoned you before, imagine humanity but half of them were disintegrated for thinking of committing a crime. Horrible world, I know."

She began miming the world's smallest violin between her fingers and wiping a fake tear from her eye. Osiris had finally had enough of Amber's posturing and glared at her.

"You may be the Emissary of the Gods." He began, "But in this council room, you are just a spectator."

Amber shrugged. "You said I was to represent Khonsu. I'm doing my job." She bowed. "You're welcome."

Suddenly realizing that she'd played them all, the Ennead all looked at each other, as Amber folded her arms. She mimed looking at a watch. Marc struggled to his feet behind her, almost ready for Khonsu to possess him again now that Amber had made her argument. However, nothing came. The familiar bird's voice didn't show. Probably because he was just as startled that Harrow brought up Marc's mental illness, making it no longer about him. Finally, Osiris cleared his throat and spoke;

"Fine. Name your price," He began, "What is the information you need?"

"The location of Ammit's tomb." Amber stated, "We... Kinda misplaced the scarab leading to it, so we have no other way of finding it."

"We are unaware of its location," Finally, after standing silently, Hathor spoke. "The location was hidden from us, due to Ammit's many followers."

Amber nodded. "I see."

"But someone had to know something." Marc said, his voice hoarse from all of Khonsu's screaming using his mouth.

"There is one--" Began Isis, causing Amber's head to dart upwards towards her. "A medjay named Senfu. He was tasked with recording the location of the tomb. In case our judgement was false."

"Find his sarcophagus,” Osiris finished, “And the tomb's location will be revealed."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Amber asked.

"His sarcophagus has been stolen and passed around the black market," Osiris continued, "You may wish to start there. Good luck."

"Hang on, if we're doing a deal, I have one more condition to add!" Amber exclaimed. "We find Ammit's tomb and stop her and Harrow. You pardon Khonsu."

Osiris smiled. It appeared he liked the challenge. "So be it."

And with a wave of his hand, Amber and Marc were ejected from the Ennead.

[vibin-in-the-void]

tags I use so you can stay safe:

for anyone new to tumblr, you can block tags by going to account settings > content you see > filtered tags. You can also block specific strings of text in account settings > content you see > filtered post content

#unreality for all goncharov stuff that pretends goncharov is real

#tw [potentially triggering topic] for explicit discussion of said topic

#cw [potentially triggering topic] for non-explicit discussion or mention of said topic

tags for good causes:

#free palestine (this tag will include mentions of genocide and war crimes)

#signal boost (this tag may include mentions of death, violence and other such topics)

#important (this tag may include mentions of death, violence and other such topics)

[c0ntaminxted]

tw // fictional death

playing danganronpa and the very second murder is done by someone with DID.

damn they didn't waste NO time

context wall under the cut

so basically one of the characters, chihiro, was murdered in a very similar way to a genocidal killer the rest of the cast talked about called genocide jack. ok. if yall know anything about danganronpa, there's an announcement made in the school that a body has been found, so naturally the cast goes to find it

so after the rest of the cast finds the body, the last person to show up was toko, and she's apparently hemophobic, so immediately upon seeing the dead body she faints. but, as soon as one of the other students, hina, tries to wake her up, she jolts up (literally, jumps up like nothing happened) and she has a different demeanor to her. she's talking differently (she has a horrid stutter) and she had a "blank" look to her eyes. so hina offered to take her back to the dorms to let her rest

fast forward a bit, hina comes to get "you" (the mc) and another character that you're with, saying that toko is acting strange. when you go to her dorm room, she's saying how she "couldn't keep her promise" and she "won't let genocide jack have control ever again"

fast forward a bit more, you find a cold case file on genocide jack where the photos were eerily similar to the scene that chihiro was found in, and the file even mentions that the suspect often lingered at the scene of the crime, but when they left they were extremely confused and panicked. following this it outright says that "the suspect may potentially suffer from dissociative identity disorder."

okay so, why am i talking about this ?

well, partly because i do really like this game. it's pretty fun. but also, it's very interesting how they chose to implement this seemingly one-off conversation into one of the characters. granted, no, i don't like it. i don't really care for seeing the "evil/murderous alter" thing in media. i.e. Moonknight and Split and this one book we read. it's a bit disheartening to see systems, disordered or not, portrayed that way. but either way, it's interesting.

also it's so damn obvious toko did it but the main character is dumb as bricks

[offtorivendell]

Potential (further) signs that the bond between Lucien Vanserra and Elain Archeron didn't pre-date her being Made by the Cauldron; could it really be a spell?

A discussion of the use of the word "oily" throughout the ACOTAR series that suggests it could be associated with the Cauldron, in addition to possible spell-bond hints from a parallel between Lucien's POV in ACOWAR, and Azriel’s bonus chapter in ACOSF.

Please don't screenshot or share this post without credit.

Disclaimer: the following is a theory based on excerpts from the text. It makes no claims of accuracy, and is not anti any character. I am absolutely not suggesting that Lucien is in any way responsible for the existence of a false bond between Elain and himself - if this theory is correct, he is just as much of a victim here as Elain. If you don't like to read about the possibility of the El*cien bond being false, please keep scrolling. This is not me telling anyone to not ship Elain and Lucien as a couple, just my thoughts on their bond.

TW: brief mention of the potential/hypothetical past genocide of a fantasy faerie species.

Existing theories: this post, by @icedflames, and this post by @elriell, discussing spells, threads and mating bonds.

Credit: all my love and thanks to @wingedblooms, @nikethestatue and @mindpalace05 for your help with this post!

If we look at the ACOTAR text in its entirety, the use of the term "oily" appears to be largely associated with the people and creatures of what is currently known as Hybern, and the events that have taken place there. Perhaps significantly, "oily" also appears to be used in conjunction with the word "spark" in ACOWAR, from which a parallel can be drawn to Azriel’s bonus POV in ACOSF - yet another similarity between Elain's two most likely endgame love interests, Azriel and Lucien.

Could this be further evidence that the bond between Elain Archeron and Lucien Vanserra did not pre-date Elain's time in the Cauldron at Hybern? Or that Koschei is involved with the King of Hybern's use of the Cauldron?

In addition to making the most sense in terms of what we have read so far with regards to the differences in behaviour between Elain and Azriel, and Elain and Lucien - in my opinion, of course - the El*cien bond being a Cauldron Made spell over an actual mating bond would also have the likely benefit of being less messy in terms of rejection, as @nikethestatue has suggested, which would be kinder/less painful on both Elain and Lucien in the long run.

Firstly, let's read the relevant part of the passage from Lucien’s POV in ACOWAR:

She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat. And he could have sworn something sparked in them as she met his gaze. “Who are you?” He knew without demanding clarification that she was aware of what he was to her. “I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.” - ACOWAR, chapter 24

Lucien felt "oily" betrayal sliding through his veins when his thoughts of Elain's beauty appeared to eclipse his love and appreciation for Jesminda, his dead fiance. On the surface, the use of "oily" as an adjective to adequately describe the level of betrayal Lucien must feel makes sense, but given the use of oily in other situations throughout the books doesn't always fit the context of guilt or shame, I suspect that, not only is the use of "oily" here intentionally linking the feeling to Hybern or Koschei, whatever he is, but the fact that Lucien felt the oiliness in his veins - his blood - is also noteworthy, and could be Cauldron specific.

Now, let's have a look at the remaining examples, in order, before returning to Lucien’s first proper meeting with Elain.

The use of the word "oily" throughout the ACOTAR series

There was beauty in this music—beauty and goodness. The music folded over itself like batter being poured from a bowl, one note atop another, melting together to form a whole, rising, filling me. It wasn’t wild music, but there was a violence of passion in it, a swelling kind of joy and sorrow. I pulled my knees to my chest, needing to feel the sturdiness of my skin, even with the slime of the oily paint upon it. - ACOTAR, chapter 41

In addition to imagery and themes that we've come to associate with Elain and Azriel - cake batter and 'Singing' etc. - oily paint was used on Feyre at Amarantha of Hybern's parties Under the Mountain. I also suspect Amarantha made a bargain - or maybe just a deal - with Koschei at some point, but I'll discuss that in another post.

But my shoulders scraped against the brick, and it reeked in here, like carrion and burned hair, and there was an oily sheen on the stone, like cooked fat— The Weaver’s screaming was cut short as I was halfway up her chimney, sunlight and trees almost visible, every breath a near-sob. - ACOMAF, chapter 21

If Koschei was/is Fionn, and part of the ruling family of the would-have-been Dusk Court - and if the precursor to the Dusk Court was Hybern, before it fell - then the Weaver and the Bone Carver are also related to Dusk/Hybern, and this instance of "oily" still fits the mold.

The box quieted. As if that were answer enough. I snatched the box off the pedestal, the metal biting into my hands, the power an oily smear through my blood. An ancient, cruel voice hissed: Liar. And the door slammed shut. - ACOMAF, chapter 36

The power of the Book of Breathings, which they needed for their mission to Hybern, felt oily in Feyre’s blood. This is potentially remarkable, as the Book of Breathings was created by the Cauldron’s dark maker, in order to control the Cauldron. I also suspect that Koschei was using the King of Hybern for his own ends, but again, that is for another post.

Rhys was unconscious as watery sunlight painted the stone walls, his skin clammy. I checked his wounds and found them barely healed, an oily sheen oozing from them. - ACOMAF, chapter 50

The faebane coated weaponry that Hybern soldiers used to attack Rhys created an oily sheen as the wounds tried to heal, slowing down the process. Feyre needed to use her own Dawn magic, and a herbal remedy, to help him.

I latched onto the oily smear of its malice, pinpointing my being, my focus onto the core of it. A beacon of corruption and filth. When I emerged from wind and shadow, I was right atop the Attor. - ACOMAF, chapter 59

The Attor worked for both the King of Hybern and Amarantha - and I suspect also Koschei - carrying out some of their cruellest deeds. Could the Attors have originated from the land that is currently Hybern, too?

Saw their plan, clear and simple: rile us, distract us, while the two quiet royals slid into our minds. Mine was shielded. But Lucien’s—Tamlin’s— I reached out with my night-kissed power, casting it like a net. And found two oily tendrils spearing for Lucien’s and Tamlin’s minds, as if they were indeed javelins thrown across the table. - ACOWAR, chapter 2

The twins, Brannagh and Dagdan, were royals from Hybern. Were they also related to Koschei in some way, or had they bargained with him, perhaps for extra power after their king's planned demise? Given their fate, it's unlikely that we'll ever know, but it is fun to wonder.

The guard hanging between the posts had such hope and gratitude in his eyes. In this … in this, my revenge edged toward something oily, something foreign and queasy. He would heal from the pain, but the blow to his honor … It’d take a little piece out of mine as well. Tamlin stared at me, then Ianthe. Then glanced to the smirking Hybern royals—to Jurian, who crossed his arms, his face unreadable. - ACOWAR, chapter 8

The Hybern twins, Ianthe and Jurian were there when Feyre experienced this. All have been associated with Hybern in some way, and Feyre was exacting revenge for Tamlin’s direct involvement with the King of Hybern.

Because where power should have been thrumming from him, obliterating them … It was a muffled rumble. Stifled. He’d tracked it here—that strange damper on his power, on the Siphons’ power. As if some sort of spell had turned his power oily in his grip. Harder to wield. … Trapped within Rhysand’s mind, his powers stifled and body weary, there was nothing I could do but watch as the King of Hybern stepped from belowdecks and smiled at my mate. - ACOWAR, chapter 36

The King of Hybern's magic, at least part of which I suspect could have been a boon from Koschei (for selfish reasons, of course), had muffled Rhys' magic - turning it oily, therefore difficult to grasp and wield.

The king rumbled a laugh. “Did you think I’d appear at this battle myself?” He waved a hand toward the soldiers still watching. “A taste—this battle is only a taste for you. To whet your appetite.” Then he was gone. The magic leaking from the boat, the oily sheen it’d laid over Rhys’s power … it vanished, too. - ACOWAR, chapter 37

Once again, the King of Hybern's magic had laid an oily sheen over Rhys' power, which vanished as he left.

You said the other day the breathing helped you. It helps me, too. It helped Feyre.” She watched the wall rise in his eyes, word after word. As if he waited for her to rip it down. Rip him down. “Make of that what you will, but it’s true.” Oily shame slithered through her. She’d done that—brought this level of defensiveness to him. Heaviness weighed on her. Started gnawing on her insides. So Nesta said, “Show me another set of movements.” Cassian scanned her face for a heartbeat, his gaze still shuttered, and began his next demonstration. - ACOSF, chapter 15

I suspect that serpent-like imagery, such as "slithered," is associated with Dusk/Hybern and the Hewn City. This scene also happened at the House of Wind, which could be significant, as Koschei can manipulate the wind for communication.

Were some of Nesta’s feelings, and intrusive thoughts (ie. of gnawing heaviness) - not all, she obviously had genuine trauma from a lot of things, but some - perhaps sent to her by Koschei, in order to keep her weakened? It's a crazy thought, I know, but the way some of ACOSF is written, I can't get it out of my mind. Koschei was likely more present than we know.

Now that we've discussed every other mention of "oily" throughout the ACOTAR series, and demonstrated that they could plausibly appear to be related to what is currently known as Hybern, and maybe even Koschei himself, with the bonus that the events which are related to the Book of Breathings and/or the Cauldron specifically have the oily feeling in the POV character's "blood" or "veins," I believe we can take this a step further. If we draw parallels between the latter portion of Lucien’s ACOWAR passage with Azriel’s ACOSF bonus chapter - the only times at which we've seen either of their points of view - which demonstrate the importance of SJM's careful wording, we may be able to provide evidence that supports the existence of a spelled bond between Lucien and Elain.

Read on…

Lucien’s POV (ACOWAR)

She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat. And he could have sworn something sparked in them as she met his gaze. “Who are you?” He knew without demanding clarification that she was aware of what he was to her. “I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.” - ACOWAR, chapter 24

Oily - power or magic related to either Dusk, Hybern and/or Koschei.

Blood/veins - specific to the Cauldron or Book of Breathings; is Koschei the dark maker of both the Cauldron and the Book of Breathings? The Book of Breathings said that it was going home when it was being taken back to the Cauldron, when it was located at Hybern.

Chanted - chanting is often used to describe words when specifically used to cast spells, or sing. We know, per Helion, that spells are threads, and from both Feyre and Rhys, and Nesta and Cassian, that mating bonds are made up of multiple golden threads and a bridge.

Are all mating bonds just innate spells?

As I mentioned earlier, @icedflames and @elriell have both discussed this in depth, here and here, so I won't rehash (though I do highly recommend their brilliant posts), but I still strongly stand behind my opinion that, whether the Elucien bond is a mating bond, or another sort of spelled bond - though I lean towards the latter - it didn't predate Elain's time in the Cauldron. For reference, here is my discussion of Lucien’s behaviour when Elain was threatened, when compared to Cassian’s actions as Nesta faced a similar threat, and even Azriel’s unconscious cry at Hybern's castle; Lucien appeared to take his lead from Tamlin’s actions before Elain was put under, and then, afterwards, called for Tamlin to "get her (Elain) back." Azriel, on the other hand, said that he was "getting her (Elain) back" himself, and Cassian aimed to do the same for Nesta in the Blood Right. Lucien's actions appeared to mimic a bond, but they weren't truly the same (and no shame to him, he'd never met Elain before).

We know that Lucien felt "a real thread" between Elain and himself, but it was only the one/singular, as well as being "tied to a rib," as Elain said, not her, or their, chests or souls (ACOWAR, chapter 29). This could be important, given the mating bonds between Feyre and Rhys, and Nesta and Cassian, all appear to contain multiple golden threads.

Sparked - in addition to "glow" (post by @sciencebaetch), the word "spark" is often used to describe magic, such as when Feyre was training her powers and attempting to light a candle. Rhys sent her a note along with her lunch:

I’m bored. Any sparks yet? - ACOMAF, chapter 25

Perhaps significantly, Lucien saw something spark in Elain's "fawn" coloured eye when they first met in Velaris (and he knew that she knew what he was to her) right after his senses chanted "mine" and, as we later found out, Azriel felt something spark in his chest when he was walking away from Clotho, followed by him seeing the image of Gwyn's teal eyes, in his own bonus chapter. Both events occurred at the House of Wind - once again, wind is associated with Koschei.

Could the spark that Lucien saw indicate a spell activating due to his proximity to Elain, or his/their being at the House of Wind? Once again, I do not think that any of this is intentional on Lucien’s behalf, and he is likely just as clueless about this hypothetical situation as Elain.

Azriel’s POV (ACOSF)

Azriel couldn't stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys.

Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest.

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. - ACOSF, Azriel’s bonus chapter

Chest - we come across Azriel feeling envy in his chest, where we know mating bonds are felt - and thanks to Cassian, we know that Azriel knows this, too - while thinking of both Feyre and Rhys, and Nesta and Cassian.

SJM then brought Azriel and Elain chest to chest ("breast"), almost touching, which could potentially be further imagery of the existence of a mating - or other - bond between the two of them, ie. chests, two halves of a hypothetical whole/true bond, that need to be reunified (of course, hopefully with the consent of both parties). This wasn't the first time that SJM has used imagery or symbolism to suggest the existence of some sort of bond between Elain and Azriel, and I'm sure it won't be the last.

We then saw Azriel experiencing a spark in his chest, followed by him picturing Gwyn's teal eyes lighting as she saw the necklace. Now, I'm not saying it was Gwyn who was responsible for this - I wouldn't be surprised to find out that the library could be one of a few havens of sorts for lightsingers, who are, in reality, not monsters at all, but drastically misunderstood (and perhaps even vilified) beings* - but this occurred during a dusk service, when multiple priestesses were singing - what if one was Singing (ie. with power) at the same time? I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the spark Azriel felt in his chest, much like the one Lucien saw in Elain's eye, back in ACOWAR, was likely a spell, courtesy of someone in the library who has immense power. Merrill is the obvious choice, but who knows?

* Consider me part of the Lightsinger PR Department. I could be wrong, of course, and completely overthinking things, but I do not think that lightsingers are inherently evil; rather that they have agency over their actions like any other being and, therefore, they contain the same capacity to be either good or bad (or morally grey!) as individuals. This would fit with SJM's treatment of many other 'monsters,' that were, in fact, good or helpful to the protagonist, such as the Suriel, the water wraiths from Spring, and the Bone Carver, to name just a few (she loves to subvert our expectations).

Additionally, I suspect that the lightsinger luring power is NOT sexual in nature, unless and until they choose it to be so (the Cauldron’s "siren song" in ACOWAR, for instance, lured Elain with an image of Graysen having come to take her home - so, not sexual, but rather something for which she desperately longed at the time). I believe that their spells are cast with music/song - simple as that - and the intended effect is different for each person.

I aim to go into this further in a dedicated post, but I would not be surprised to learn that lightsingers have been vilified because they were a group of women (females) who assisted in some sort of historical war or political event, perhaps millennia ago, when Fionn/Koschei was hypothetically overthrown? If this is the case, the stories that Cassian relayed to us in ACOSF were likely designed to intentionally mislead people about lightsingers, in order to punish them for their involvement in said historical event, and lead to their eventual annihilation as a species of faerie, as people would, and have, hunted them down to the point they need to go into hiding.

I also posit that lightsingers were always associated with the priestesses of the Mother outside of the library sanctuary, and that factions arose within the ranks of the priestesses, with some being good/loyal to Prythian - and others not - but that this is separate to their species, same as any race of faerie. However, due to the theoretical aim to punish lightsingers for some past event, they are more likely to be attacked if found out, hence the potential cluster of lightsingers as priestesses, especially those who have experienced trauma.

But I digress, and I'll try to write that post asap.

So, is the El*cien bond a spell?

This builds on my thoughts that shadowsingers and lightsingers could be related to daemati (post is in the works), as well as my extended, very crackish theory that they could both be associated with sorcerers and witches, but I do wonder whether they have the ability to read someone's greatest desire and use that to lure them into whatever situation/activity etc. they require. If a lightsinger wanted to lure Aelin Galathynius, for example, they could plant the image of a chocolate cake in her mind.

What if the events were as follows:

Elain and Lucien - Lucien saw something spark in Elain's eye, when they had their first proper meeting at the House of Wind. Was it a spell activating to approximate a mating bond, so she saw 'what' Lucien was to her, but not whom?

Azriel and Gwyn - Koschei himself, or one of the (hypothetical) lightsinger-priestesses, maybe one who was singing in their dusk service when Azriel found himself 'at the library beneath the House of Wind' - and again, not necessarily Gwyn! - used Azriel’s desire for a bond with Elain to craft a spell, but mimicked it with the image of Gwyn's eyes, for whatever reason (most likely one that furthers the plot).

Therefore, assuming some sort of existing bond, mating or otherwise, between Azriel and Elain - and over multiple books they have both consistently demonstrated, or been written with imagery that suggests, that something like this may be the case - I still think it likely that the Cauldron, thanks to either Hybern or Koschei, and the faebane coated arrow that pierced Azriel’s chest - where mating bonds are felt - somehow muffled the bond between Elain and Az, allowing a new spell, perhaps one that mimicked or approximated a mating bond - to thread its way between Elain and Lucien.

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[youryanderedaddy]

Unity

I can't believe I actually wrote this monstrosity 😩

Tw: gender - neutral reader, hinted genocide, death, slight mention of blood, mention of "communism" ( authoritarian regime actually), mention of anarchism, politics, patronizing behavior, obsessive behavior, misconceptions, stereotypes, unnironical usage of comrade, crack taken seriously

*lapochka (rus) = sweetheart

*kotenok (rus) = kitten

You couldn't believe your eyes. The world around you was sparkling, trembling, literally burning the old regime away. Your whole body was shaking as you watched the parliamentary melt down into ash, flames and smoke so thick in the air you could practically smell the fall of the hierarchy, and the rise of another one - much crueler and tyrannical. You looked down at your hands - one of them was wet with blood and your own tears, the other was tightly bound together with your friend's. Aleksei was smiling into the deadly nothingness, something sinister underneath the victorious grin of satisfaction on his lips. He sighed loudly, finally at peace, and rested his head against your left shoulder. Your bat hit the scarlet ground.

"We did it, comrade." The Russian spoke out suddenly, his voice low and smooth, almost stealthy, just like before the rebellion when he used to tell you all of his theories and plans, quiet and secretive like a church mouse. "We can finally have the perfect utopia." He paused to squeeze your wrist gently. "A place where everyone can be equal. Where the state helps the people instead of obeying the corporations mindlessly." Aleksei exhaled slowly, studying your delicate features. No reaction. "The bourgeoisie oppression ends today, with us." He added quickly, then kicked the open vodka bottle on the ground somewhere far away.

"The state..." You whispered suddenly, the hot blood pumping in your veins at full force once the realization hit you. Your heartbeat fastened and you had to hold onto the man so you wouldn't fall down all over the corpes of the people your little riot had just killed, some friends, some enemies. "You told me there will be no state." You spat out with newly found poison, the type you had reserved mostly for capitalists and conservative old men. "You promised us freedom. You promised me freedom." The tears were falling down now, your cheeks red with dissapoinment and bitterness. "All this talk about leftist unity just so you can stab me in the b-back." Your voice broke at the end, the mere thought of the betrayal sending you into miserable sobs and high - pitched whimpers. "I can't believe I trusted you, comrade." The dirty word lingered on your tongue for just a moment too long, like a curse.

You tried to push the Russian away and break free of his hold, but to no avail. The communist was far too strong to fight off, too determined to put you in your place to let you go before watching you struggle for a while like the feral cat you were. "Lapochka, did you really think that everyone could just get along without the fear of retribution?" Aleksei murmured against your ear, his warm breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck as he embraced you tightly against his chest. What once felt like a gesture of assurance, alliance and the promise of liberty was now simply a way to show ownership and superiority. "You are nothing but a silly idealist kid with no understanding of the real world. You are lucky that I found you before your childish beliefs got you hurt." The man continued firmly, his hands wandering underneath your torn black hoodie, gripping the soft battered skin and pressing on the fresh bloody scars. "Now I can protect you forever, Y/N, with the party by my side." The Russian stated warmly, hoping that the love he felt in his heart softened the obvious authority in his tone.

"Let me go, you damn control - freak!" You shouted, squirming in the cage of arms around your body, still finding it was too hard to break free. You had managed to overthrow one oppressive government just to be met with another one, potentially worse than the first. The only difference this time was that the fucking leader of the party wanted you as their house pet. It must have been such a power trip for Aleksei to see you crumble slowly, rely on him more and more over the months as you lost your edge and driving force, opposing everything you believed in just to become his domesticated little playing. And for what? For partnership? For resources? For a better world? As if you had wanted all these people dead. As if you had wanted all your civil right stripped away to a handful the government controlled anyways.

"I will never let you go, kotenok. I love you." The Russian insisted, his face serious, his eyes deep and black like the part of his flag that had long been burnt along the other symbols of defiance. "My allies wanted me to kill you after the new order, but I could never bring myself to do it." He muttered as he kissed your cheek, licking the salty trail of tears. "I know I can bring some sense into your pretty little head, Y/N. I will be patient, I promise. Soon enough you will see all of the wonders of the new world." The man smiled against your cold skin. You were freezing, but that wasn't the reason behind your trembling. Aleksei grabbed your hand again and put it over his golden medal, right next to his bumping heart.

"Let's go home, comrade."

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A rogue Druid’s “please join us” speech to Merlin triggers a few things:

Gwaine tries to commit regicide, Leon confronts his (understandable) fear of Dragons, and Merlin has a full on mental breakdown.

The knights are left to pick up the pieces and all of them consider following Gwaine’s lead.

ANGSTY ANGSTY 

TW: Blood, death, nightmares. Physical and verbal abuse. A very brief implication of potential suicide/self harm.

Everyone notices the sudden changes within the group, it would be hard not to notice.

No one has any clue what happened though.

One day, everything is fine. If they think back, they realise Merlin had seemed a little... nervous? Maybe? But other than that, everything was fine, normal.

But the next day? From then until now, a month later? Everything was different.

Arthur seemed much angrier. He flew off the handle over the smallest mistakes, he worked the knights so hard in training that at least three of them had to go to Gaius for treatment everyday, and he didn’t seem like he planned on letting up any time soon. He snapped at everyone, even Gwen and Gaius, which was unheard of.

Merlin seemed... quieter. The knights, Gwen, and Gaius barely saw him, but when they did, he flinched at even the slightest noise; his eyes constantly darted around, looking for a way to escape, and he wouldn’t let anyone touch him.

They were worried, but Arthur was so constantly furious that no one dared bring it up with him, and the one time they tried to ask Merlin, he came up with some ridiculous excuse and ran away. They thought they had barely seen him before, but after that they didn’t see him at all for at least four days.

They also noticed how both of their worrying moods seemed ten times worse when they were with each other. Even just being in the same room, made Arthur angrier, and Merlin... they didn’t want to think it but... more scared.

After three weeks of this, they gathered together, and put into place their emergency plan. Leon would speak directly to Arthur, and Lancelot would speak directly to Merlin.

Of all of them, they were the most trusted by each target, and were the most likely to get answers, and the least likely to get a bad reaction if answers were refused.

They were... pretty wrong. Merlin reacted in the same way as he had to the group two and a half weeks ago. Which is odd, because he normally tells Lancelot everything, and not only did he not tell him, he lied and came up with excuses.

Leon was much worse for wear. He showed up a while after Lancelot, pale and miserable. Arthur had just yelled at him a bunch and assigned him extra patrols.

A few days later, they were all still struggling with what to do when Arthur informed them of a quest that was to be undertaken. They were... nervous, to say the least. Going on any sort of dangerous trip with Arthur in this state was bound to go badly, but they could hardly refuse, and they definitely couldn’t bring up the issue again.

So they resigned themselves to it. Gwen wished them luck, and made sure to give Merlin an extra tight hug before they left, and Gaius slipped a few extra medical supplies in each of the knights packs, just in case.

Apparently, patrols of Camelot Knights kept going missing. Whole groups of soldiers, in one very specific area near the border, were just not coming back.

Arthur could hardly justify sending more patrols out, so despite his foul mood, and his desperation to stay away from everyone, he took himself, his five best knights, and his manservant.

Elyan could’ve sworn he heard Arthur mutter something along the lines of “As if I’d leave you here unsupervised.”, to Merlin, the tone far less jesting that it might’ve been a month ago, but he kept it to himself. They were travelling and camping together, there would hardly be an opportunity to share without Arthur and Merlin there.

And like they were all expecting, the trip was hell.

Awkward silences that not even Gwaine could fill, Merlin looking close to tears the whole time, and Arthur constantly looking like he’s considering extreme violence.

Merlin even rides at the back of the group (unheard of), doesn’t complain even once about anything (even more unheard of), and the few times he does speak, he addresses all of them by their titles (down-right panic inducing).

They, of course, realise it had been a trap far too late, and before they even had time to shout and draw their swords, the camp fades around them.

~

When they wake an indiscernible amount of time later, they have been stripped of armour and weapons, and have been shackled.

They appear to be in a circular, one-room hut, the knights spaced equally and chained to the wall. Their cloaks remain, but any chainmail or armour they had been equipped with was gone, leaving them in the thin clothes they wore underneath, completely unprotected.

Merlin stood in the middle of the room, looking very confused. Once he noticed the knights stirring, he tried to take a step towards them, but frowned when he realised he couldn’t get within a arm’s reach of them.

Once the knights came around fully, they realised that whilst Merlin couldn’t move all that much, they couldn’t speak.

Arthur looks to Merlin with fury written all over his face, and pulls violently on his chains. Merlin flinches back and gasps out:

“This has nothing to do with me, I swear!”

Before the rest of the knights have time to change their expressions to one of confusion, a man walks through the door. Everyone’s gazes turn to him quickly, and they take in his appearance.

He looked like a Druid... but not quite right, like he hadn’t actually been to a camp in a while. He wore neutral colours, browns and greens, but despite his calm demeanour and gentle face, he looked a little crazed.

Where Druids stand calmly and walk softly, this man rushed in and fiddled with his hands, eyes darting around the room at everyone’s faces.

When Merlin goes to demand he introduce himself, the Druid holds a hand up, silencing him (no magic, just a gesture), and begins to speak:

“Who I am, does not matter. But I do know who you are, Emrys. I shall explain it your friends first, so they don’t get too lost.-”

The Druid smiles sadly, and turns to the knights, all of whom (apart from Lancelot) stare on in confusion at the melancholy resignation on the Druid’s face, and the dread on Merlin’s. Still unable to speak, and with very limited movement, they reluctantly resign themselves to listening to whatever speech the villain of the week had come up with.

“-Emrys has been being seen in prophetic visions for centuries. Whilst Uther Pendragon was destined to start the purge, Emrys, or as you know him: Merlin, is destined to stop it. He is said to be the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth, past present and future. He can bend the very elements of the world, bring down armies, turn cities to ash with a flick of his wrist. But destiny also foretold of The Once and Future King. Most have accepted that Arthur Pendragon, is said king.-”

Merlin was stiff but panicky during the Druid’s explanation, having realised that for whatever reason, he didn’t have access to his magic right now.

He could feel it buzzing under his skin, but every time he tried to pull it forward, it abandoned him, burrowing deep into his soul and hiding.

Merlin was tense and angry, angry that the chance to tell his friends the truth himself had been taken away, but his statue-like stillness is broken as he frowns and flinches slightly at the thinly veiled disgust in the sorcerer’s voice as he says Arthur’s name.

The Knights look confused, and very much shocked, their gazes flickering between the Druid and Merlin, but he refuses to meet their eyes.

“-Together, Emrys and the Forever King are destined to bring harmony and peace to the world, to restore magic’s place alongside the non magic, to inspire compassion, and stop the unjust genocide that Uther started.-”

Arthur and Leon shuffle uncomfortably at the mention of the late King and his sins, but are more focused on the other shocking revelations. The other knights (again, bar Lancelot, who is staring at Merlin apologetically) seem invested in the story, though they’re clearly confused.

Arthur was made aware of Merlin’s magic a few weeks ago, but despite Merlin’s choice to tell him willingly, he had reacted badly, and in his rage, hadn’t allowed Merlin to explain himself. The other knights were, of course, unaware of this, though they quickly put two and two together.

Despite Merlin’s best efforts, Arthur had stayed in the dark about the whole Emrys-prophecy-destiny thing.

The Druid gives each knight a short assessing gaze, seemingly to make sure they were paying attention.

He turns his attention back to Merlin, who is trying very hard to keep his expression blank (and failing) as he listens:

-”And how long have you waited, my friend, for Arthur to play his part in destiny. Ten years, of having the prophecies shoved down your throat by idealists, being told that you have no choice but to serve a man who would see your head on a spike should he know who you truly are. Ten years in the service of a man who has caused you nothing but pain, given you nothing but nightmares.-”

Merlin flinches and looks away. Every magic user in, or even near Camelot shares the same nightmares, all caused by the Pendragon Reign. There’s no need for a discussion about it, no need for a denial. 

“-His father ripped your family apart. He himself stood at the grave of your best friend and told you he was evil, he himself killed the woman you loved-”

Arthur frowns in confusion at this. Merlin had never been in love. But he quickly doubts himself when he hears Merlin gasp quietly, and looks to him to see a tear slip down his cheek. 

Fury flashes quickly across Lancelot’s face, obviously knowing the story, but he covers it quickly, and no one is the wiser to the anger slowly growing in his chest at what this so-called Druid was putting his friend through.

The Druid speaks his next words quietly, though still loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, as he lifts a soft hand and gently wipes away Merlin’s tear:

“-I know what you see when you close your eyes. I know why you are so exhausted. But do they? Have you told them?-”

The Druid nods his head in the direction of the knights, but doesn’t break eye contact with Merlin, who sniffles slightly before looking to the floor in shame. 

“-Of the smoke and flames that you choke on when you sleep? You dream of pyres built just for you, built by the people you care most about. Even when you are awake, every second you have your eyes closed, every time you blink, you are forced to picture your so-called King with a sword at your throat, as if the scene were painted onto the back of your eyelids.-”

His voice had risen as he spoke and he had begun to pace, anger growing at the pain his Lord had gone through. He practically spits the word “King”, like just saying it disgusts him. 

Merlin remains quiet, but he has a steady stream of tears down his face as he looks back at the Druid with despair. The knights watch on in anguish as they see the way he is suffering. 

Arthur stops feeling angry and confused, and starts to feel a little guilty. Not that he would let it show; he stares on blankly.

Everyone wanted desperately to believe that the Druid was lying, manipulating them, that Merlin would deny it. But he didn’t. And that told them all they needed to know.

The Druid stopped his pacing, coming to a stand still in front of Merlin and cupping one of his cheeks softly with his hand. The knights pretend not to see Merlin lean into it slightly as his tears continue to fall.

The Druid begins again, speaking softly once more:

“-Were those fears unfounded? Were those nightmares irrational? I see the terror in your eyes. I see how petrified of your King you are.-”

Merlin lets out a shaky breath and glances quickly to Arthur, before looking back at the man in front of him.

The King is taken aback, and the knights are furious at the flash of fear on Merlin’s face when his gaze had momentarily met Arthur’s.

“-What did he do, when he found out? When you bared your soul and gave him nothing but honesty, and undeserved apologies. What did he do?-”

Merlin lets out his first audible sob, and the Knights pull at their chains slightly, desperate to comfort their friend. Arthur slumps back, remembering his actions as if they were mere hours ago.

One of Merlin’s hands lifted to cover his mouth as he chokes back a second sob, but the other lifts subconsciously to tug at the scarf around his neck.

The Druid lets a single tear escape his eye as he waves his hand gently, the scarf disappearing with the gentle golden glow of his eyes.

Merlin seems too distraught to notice; and moves both hands to clamp tightly over his mouth as tears stream down his face. His shoulders hunch, but not enough for any of the knights to miss what the Druid had clearly been trying to expose; a thin, barely healed scar along the base of his throat. As if a sword had been pressed there.

The Druid’s eyes lose focus slightly and he frowns as he ghosts a finger over the scar, seemingly asking the next question to himself:

“-Nightmares on the back of your eyelids, or visions of the future, hmm?-”

His eyes refocus, and he cards a hand through Merlin’s hair, trying to calm the man’s heartache as the knights stare on in horror. 

Arthur resists the urge to look towards his knights, not wanting to see the disgusted glares he knows they’re sending his way.

The Druid pauses for a moment in his speech, waiting for Merlin to calm slightly before he quietly continued:

“-And what has he done since then? Has he allowed explanation? Has he seen the error of his ways and tried to understand? Or has he called you a liar, and a traitor. Has he called you a monster, whilst demanding that you continue to serve him?-”

Merlin’s breathing grows deeper as he struggles to control his sobs. He lowers his hands to be clenched at his sides, shaking, as the Druid softly places his hands on his shoulders.

His next words are spoken even quieter, though the knights can still hear him and the deadly anger that’s barely concealed in the man’s tone:

“-Has he laid hands on you, and called you a beast, while you cowered in fear, knowing that if you defended yourself he would see himself proven right?-”

Merlin let’s out loud, gasping sobs once more as the Druid’s hands travel softly down, from his shoulders to his wrists. There, he looks down, sorrow on his face as he carefully lifts Merlin’s sleeves, bunching them around his elbows.

The knights decide then and there they are going to protect Merlin no matter what, no matter from whom, as they each see the handprint shaped bruises littering Merlin’s arms.

“-He has hurt you, over and over and over-”

As he speaks, the Druid hovers his hands over the bruises, his eyes glowing softly golden as they heal.

“-And you despair, believing yourself worthless-”

Merlin flinches, and his sobbing grows more intense as his face is taken in soft hands.

“-waiting on a Golden Age that he refuses to bring. He is cruel, and unjust, how many more times must he hurt you? How many more of our people will the Pendragon line slaughter, out of misguided hatred? How much more sleep must you lose? How many more nightmares must you endure? You have stood loyally by his side for a decade, and had to stand and watch as he continued his father’s legacy, forced to believe it was destiny.-”

The Druid says “destiny” as if he hates the taste of the word in his mouth, the bloodshed of the past almost thirty years clearly having made him lose faith in the prophecies.

Merlin’s breathing has calmed slightly, and the knights aren’t sure whether to be relieved or frightened, as the Druid desperately continues, clutching Merlin’s hands in his own:

“-Too many lives have been lost, too much innocent blood spilt. Haven’t you yourself been forced to kill your own people to protect this False King from the consequences of his own actions?-”

The knights think too soon as Merlin’s breathing and sobs grow erratic once more. The manservant almost falls to the floor, his eyes clenched desperately shut, and only the Druids hands on his shoulders keeping him upright:

“-I was young, and naïve once. I too, believed in Arthur Pendragon, I believed in the prophecies, I believed he would a great king and a good man-”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s as he gently says:

“-but he is not. He has failed you, and failed our people.-”

The Druid steps back, but still holds Merlin’s shoulder tightly as he gives him a pleading look.

The knights know what’s coming before it is said, and with the anguish and desperation and grief on their friend’s face? After they learned what their benevolent King had done? Well... they wouldn’t have blamed Merlin for saying yes.

“-I ask you to join me, Emrys. I know it’s difficult, to give up on a man you gave so much of yourself to, but there is too much Uther in him. It’s time, and you know this, to rewrite destiny. Dig your own path, liberate your own people, bring magic and compassion and harmony back to the world yourself.-”

Merlin, though distraught, still looks doubtful, and the knights hold their breath as the Druid continues, becoming more and more furious at their inability to speak. 

All of them have tears in their eyes, if not falling already, even Arthur, though he has remained still and blank through the tears.

“-I know the flames you fear, the sword’s edge, the gallows’ drop, the axe’s fall. Do not let our kin continue to fear those things, do not stand by, waiting for the Pendragon tyrant to change, and allowing sacrifices to be made in the mean time.-”

Merlin’s sobbing begins again, and the Druid kisses him softly on the forehead before kneeling to the floor, gripping Merlin’s hands and looking up at him desperately:

"-You are Emrys, Lord of the Druids, and Conduit for all magic of this world. Not some servant that an entitled brat can toss around and treat lesser than the dirt he walks on. You are my King, our King. Not him.-”

He stands again and grips Merlin’s arms tightly, most likely leaving more bruises in place of the ones he had healed.

Merlin doesn’t notice the pain, but shakes his head stutteringly, still crying.

“-Do not let your people lose you to Arthur, as Arthur lost himself to Uther. To give up on him is painful, but the screams of your kin, burning for their gifts, echoing in your skull day and night?-”

The Druid’s hands move up to grip the sides of Merlin’s head, and he shakes him ever so slightly, his tone frantic and pleading:

“-That is worse. That is pain he will never understand, and certainly never care for. Join me, please my Lord I beg you, for our people.”

One of the Druid’s hands slides lower, to softly cup Merlin’s cheek again, but the other drops entirely.

The knights have never resented being magically gagged more than in this moment. They could do nothing but watch on in horror as the man summons a dagger behind his back.

The Druid is clearly waiting on his response, and Merlin is too distraught to notice the consequences of a wrong answer, tears flowing quickly down his face and ugly sobs forcing their way out of his throat.

Arthur watches in terror, knowing that this was his fault, that every shitty, selfish decision he had ever made had to led to this point. And the knights knew it too.

All they can do is pray to every deity they know the name of, that Arthur has done enough damage for Merlin to say yes. And oh, what a terrible thing to pray for.

The Druid softly strokes Merlin’s cheekbone with his thumb as the Warlock takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up, meeting the gaze of the man opposite him before croaking:

“I... I can’t. Arthur is a good man, I have faith that he will-”

Before he can finish his sentence, the dagger is thrust up into his chest, his words stuttering to a stop and his red-rimmed eyes growing wide at the sudden, agonising pain spreading throughout his body.

Merlin is vaguely aware of the knights pulling roughly at their chains, but he pays them no mind as blood gurgles up his throat and he frowns, struggling to hear what the Druid was whispering in his ear:

“Then you have forsaken your people, and so I shall forsake you. Traitor.”

With that, Merlin is dropped roughly to the floor, dagger still imbedded in his chest as he lands on his side. Blood spills from both his mouth and the wound, eyes unfocused but heavy as the tears continue to overflow.

The knights are silently screaming, thrashing against their chains as their friend chokes, but Merlin ignores them in favour of smiling gently at the soft feeling of nothing, growing outwards from his chest.

He frowns once more, as though remembering something, and his eyes go glassy as two words escape from his mouth, barely a whisper:

“I’m... sorry...”

An apology to whom, no one knows, but with those last words his body goes completely still, the pool of blood still expanding beneath him, and his eyes unseeingly staring just to the left of The King.

No one in the room can tear their eyes from Merlin’s pale corpse, face now a mess of tears and blood.

The Druid looks down at him with an odd mix of contempt, and genuine sorrow. He had obviously waited long enough that his resentment of Arthur had bled into his feelings for his so-called saviour, but still grieved for what could have been.

The Knights look at him in horror, all understanding that they had never been lucky, they had just had Merlin. He had never asked for thanks, or recognition, or reward. He had kept them all safe, at great expense to himself, and now he was dead.

Lancelot seems the... calmest, though he still cries like the rest of them. He had, in theory, known of the pain Merlin was in, but had he known it was plaguing him to this extent... well perhaps he wouldn’t have been so loyal to Arthur.

Arthur himself stares at Merlin with nothing but terror and agonising grief. He had done this. If he had just let Merlin explain, if he had just given him five minutes, instead of bruises and nightmares and fear, then he would still be alive. 

If he hadn’t been so selfish and cruel, perhaps hundreds of people, just like Merlin, just as scared and innocent as Merlin, would also be alive. 

Merlin had spent his entire time in Camelot trying to convince Arthur that he wasn’t his father... and Arthur had gone and proven him wrong at every turn. And even then Merlin still had faith, still called him a good man.

The silencing spell still has hold over the knights, so they cry and scream and thrash soundlessly as the Druid finally rips his gaze from the body at his feet.

He steps carefully around Merlin to stand in front of Arthur. The sorrow clears from his face, leaving only contempt and rage left to be directed at the man in front of him. Arthur does not look up, keeping his tear stained face focused on the floor, even as the Druid begins to speak:

“You see what you have done, Arthur Pendragon? You think magic is the thing that corrupts, but it is not. It is you. Emrys was meant to be a saviour, a God, a guiding light to help our people to safety, but you tainted him, reduced him to nothing more than a sad, scared boy, and then reduced him further, to a corpse. My hands are clean of blood Pendragon, but yours?? Oh, yours are drenched in it.”

Arthur slowly lifts his distraught gaze to the Druid, but quickly widens his eyes at what he sees.

Merlin stands behind the Druid, eyes glowing golden, tears once more streaming down his face as he grips the handle of the dagger, still buried in his chest.

The bloodstains grow even larger as he grimaces slightly and pulls it free, before wordlessly forcing it through the Druid’s back.

The man lets out a sudden gasp, and looks down to see just the tip of the blade poking out where his heart should be. He gargles something, words that no one can make out, before Merlin pulls the dagger out again, and his body crumples to the floor.

The knights and Arthur can feel the silencing spell release them, but none of them make even a noise as they stare in shock at their tormented, but very much alive, friend.

Merlin drops the dagger from his hand and it lands with a splash in the mixing puddles of blood, before he himself falls harshly to his knees.

The others finally break out of their stupor, once again pulling towards their friend. Their cries and shouts of his name can be heard by everyone but him as he leans forward, placing his forehead against that of the lifeless Druid.

His cries grow erratic again as he whispers apology after apology, and every heart breaks even more at the sight before them.

They know why he apologises, they know why he grieves, even over a man who had tried to... had succeeded in killing him. The death of yet another of his own kind who was sick of waiting, who was rightfully angry, was not something to be celebrated.

They had thought, at the beginning of this, that they would get through whatever the Druid threw at them, they always did. But this, the brokenness of one of their dearest friends, was not something that looks fixable.

Merlin finally sits up again and he sobs louder, still deaf and blind to those around him. Lancelot has just enough time to yell at the others to cover their eyes, as a gut-wrenching scream escapes the Warlock.

They’re almost blinded, even with their eyes tightly shut and their arms thrown up. The scream is the loudest, and most anguished they’ve ever heard, and the force in which Merlin releases his magic completely eviscerates the hut they had been chained in.

Each of them is thrown violently backwards, and their chains crumble to the floor with the rest of the building as they try to find purchase on the ground. None of them are hurt too badly, and they’re grateful for the fact that even in this state, Merlin’s magic seems incapable of really causing them any damage.

The scream ends, and the knights look up to see Merlin sat in the middle of the crater he had created, staring blankly into the middle distance. Tears still stream down his face, but he doesn’t move and he makes no sound, just kneels there with his blood soaked hands on his lap, palms towards the sky.

It takes a few moments for the knights to regain their senses, but once they do, all hell breaks loose.

Gwaine immediately gets to his feet and makes a rush towards Arthur, fully intending on throttling him, screaming obscenities as he went, but Percival and Elyan jump forward, grabbing an arm each and dragging him away as he curses the King and the Sky and the Gods.

As much as Percival and Elyan were not impartial to killing Arthur right now, Merlin was the priority, and as much as he may have deserved it, Merlin would never forgive them if they hurt the King.

Arthur seems to be unaware of the attempt on his life made by one of his most trusted knights, and just stares blankly at an equally blank Merlin.

Lancelot and Leon make a bee-line for the Warlock, but stop just short of touching him, not knowing how he would react. 

Leon nods gently at Lancelot, clearly having picked up that this knight had already known at least part of the story. Lancelot returns his nod, before moving forward slowly. The body of the Druid lays untouched at Merlin’s knees, and the knight removes his cloak, laying it over him, before reaching a slow hand towards Merlin’s shoulder.

He finally makes contact after a little hesitation, whispering his name as gently and as comfortingly as he is able with tears still leaking from his eyes.

Merlin doesn’t react at all to Lancelot’s touch, not even when he takes his bloody hand, or shakes his shoulder slightly; just sits and stares and cries.

Leon gulps before reaching forward himself. He grabs the dagger from besides Merlin and tosses it behind him (he didn’t like to think about that action too much. He has no idea what state his friend is in right now, best to not have any sharp instruments within his reach when he came to.) before lifting his hand to wipe away the man’s tears.

Arthur stares upon all of this in horror from his position sprawled on the floor a few metres away.

Elyan and Percival have just about managed to calm Gwaine, and they begin making their way to Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin, but before they get even halfway there, Arthur finally speaks.

His voice breaks, and is barely audible, but everyone hears him nonetheless as he murmurs:

“I did this...”

Gwaine makes another run at him, regaining his anger, and Percival and Elyan just about manage to grab him before he commits regicide.

Lancelot and Leon look up at him sharply, but when Lancelot lowers his gaze and continues to try and rouse Merlin, Leon holds the King’s gaze, and says strongly:

“Yes. Yes you did, My Lord.”

Arthur’s face crumbles even more, and Leon glares at him with venom for a few more seconds, before giving Lancelot a soft pat on the back, and walking towards the other three.

He mumbles a few harsh things that only Gwaine can hear, who responds at first with more anger, but then resignation. The First Knight gives the man a pat on the back and nods knowingly at Elyan and Percival. No one, not even Gwaine, pretends to miss the meaning of “be ready to catch him again” in the gesture.

Arthur stays in his position on the floor as the four of them walk softly towards Merlin and Lancelot, but before they get there, everyone’s gazes are drawn to the shadow in the sky, getting closer and closer.

It moves with an alarming place, and their anger at Arthur is momentarily forgotten as he scrambles up and screams:

“DRAGON!!”

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival and Arthur rush forward to stand between the beast and the other three. They have no armour or weapons, but like hell were they just going to let it get to them.

Lancelot looks up to see the white, horse sized beast land heavily in front of The King, his eyes widen and he jumps up, rushing forward to push between the others.

Leon moves to hold a still unresponsive Merlin behind his back protectively, but frowns in confusion when Lancelot yells at Arthur (who had been about to run at the beast):

“NO! No don’t hurt her! She’s Merlin’s, don’t hurt her!”

Everyone looks at him in confusion and fear as he slowly approaches the Dragon, she had been growling lowly at first, but seemed to perk up when she saw Lancelot.

Lancelot gives her a small smile, and holds his hand out, allowing her to come to him, before quietly saying:

“I’ve never been more glad to see you, Aithusa. Merlin is over here.”

He turns back towards the others, and calmly, but forcefully says:

“Move. She needs to see him.”

Gwaine nods after a moment, trusting Lancelot, and moves out of the way. Arthur goes to argue, but Elyan and Percival roughly shove him to the side, clearing a path to Merlin and Leon for Lancelot and the new, slightly terrifying, arrival.

Leon looks up fearfully, still in front of Merlin protectively. He stares at the Dragon for a few moments, breathing deeply, before looking up at Lancelot. Lancelot gives him a weak smile, and a nod before saying quietly:

“He’s a Dragon-Lord. She can help him, it’s ok.”

Leon gulps, before nodding, and stepping out of the way. He doesn’t move too far, obviously still affected by his last encounter with a Dragon, and watches with unconcealed suspicion as Aithusa prances around Lancelot at his nod.

The others crowd closer as well, looking on in confusion, awe, suspicion, as Aithusa slowly approaches Merlin.

She lays down at his side, gently pressing her head onto Merlin’s hands, still in his lap. Her mouth opens and Leon gasps as she blows a gentle mist up into his face. Merlin’s back straightens and the knights can see his eyes come back into focus as he blinks.

They all stare with bated breath as he gulps, and begins to notice his surroundings; looking in fear at the crater around him.

Merlin is broken from his growing panic as Aithusa chirps softly from his lap, and his head whips down, only now noticing her.

The knights let out a collective breath as he smiles, very slightly and very briefly, but still; after what they had just seen him go through they would take anything. He leans his head down, and wraps his arms around the creature. She chirps once again, louder this time, as she uses her tail to push away the forgotten Druid’s corpse. 

She curls her body around Merlin protectively, and he collapses even further into the semi-embrace she’s giving him. The knights smile slightly, relieved that Merlin seems responsive, and safe, before they take slow steps towards the two of them.

She whips her head up quickly and growls at them, digging her front claws into the ground. They take in sudden breaths and stop moving, wary, but she stops growling when she looks to Lancelot.

The others stare on in shock and confusion as she tilts her head slightly, and Lancelot nods as he quietly says:

“They’re friends, it’s ok.”

The creature seems to nod, and the others follow behind Lancelot as he begins moving towards Merlin again.

He crouches down, and gives Aithusa a well-received scratch on the chin, before he gently places a hand between Merlin’s shoulder-blades.

Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and finally Leon follow suit, sitting carefully next to the Dragon, but unlike Lancelot, they don’t touch her, or Merlin. She may seem safe and loving and on their side, but she was still a Dragon.

Arthur moves a little slower, not sure if he’s welcome (he’s not) but when he gets within five feet of the group huddled on the floor, Aithusa lifts her head and growls again.

Elyan and Percival are shocked at the sudden movement, but Gwaine smirks, and Leon nods his head approvingly (though he’s still understandably... nervous). Lancelot looks back at a shocked and still tear-stricken Arthur, and speaks. His voice is quiet, but his tone is vicious:

“They have a mental link; she sees what he sees. It might be best, Your Majesty, for you to stay away.”

He doesn’t bother to watch Arthur’s reaction; he turns back and begins carding a soft hand through Merlin’s hair. He flinches only slightly before relaxing under the soft ministrations, and Aithusa gives Lancelot an affectionate lick on the arm.

The other knights do see the way that Arthur flinches, before he gives a shaky nod and takes a few steps back. He goes to say something, but the tears in his eyes overflow, and he turns to walk away.

Gwaine’s smirk grows slightly before he drops it entirely and turns back to the others, no longer caring what Arthur got up to. He is the first of the knights, other than Lancelot, to be brave enough to reach a hand forward and stroke Aithusa gently.

Elyan and Percival hesitatingly follow his lead, and Aithusa chirps happily at the attention. Leon’s gaze follows Arthur as he walks towards the horses.

They were far away, well out of the way of Merlin’s blast, but even with the distance Leon could see they were shaken. Thankfully they had been tied to the trees, otherwise he’s certain they would have bolted.

Leon finds it only slightly surprising that he feels no sympathy for the King. There’s only so much you can forgive a man for. When Arthur finally reaches the horses and begins untacking them, he looks away, back to Aithusa and Merlin.

Everyone can tell that Camelot’s First Knight is still rather shaken at the presence of the Dragon, but when Merlin looks up slightly to see him still sat there, unwilling to leave him, his heart swells a little.

Leon meets his gaze and gulps, but returns Merlin’s shaky smile.

The other knights smile as well, glad that Merlin was feeling at least a little better, and Percival speaks quietly, not wanting to spook him (or the Dragon):

“Hey, there’s our lucky charm.”

The other knights give him questioning looks but Merlin just chuckles slightly, before sitting up properly, and focusing his attention on running his fingers over Aithusa’s scales, picking out grass and mud.

Percival looks indignant before replying, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world:

“What? You honestly thought that tree branches only fell if there was a fight happening, and then only fell on the enemies?? The rock-falls? The fires even when it was pouring with rain?? The miraculous solutions to end-of-the-world type problems?? Come on, guys.”

The others look taken aback at that, but Lancelot just smiles knowingly. They all look to Merlin, who has managed to wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve, and he just shrugs slightly.

The rest of them, bar Leon, let out small huffs of laughter, and continue to stroke Aithusa, knowing that Merlin almost certainly isn’t ready for an actual conversation yet.

Merlin looks at Leon’s pale form assessingly, before a look of realisation crosses his face. The knight is tense, and staring at Aithusa’s sharp teeth with worry, but his gaze is quickly drawn to Merlin when he reaches a shaky hand towards him.

Merlin gives him an understanding smile, and crooks his fingers, encouraging the curly-haired knight to take his hand. Leon does so, and his breath hitches as Merlin lowers their intertwined hand to rest on the top of Aithusa’s head.

Leon lets out a slow breath as he feels Elyan’s supportive hand on his back, but relaxes fully when he sees the sparkle in Merlin’s eyes. Anything to make their Warlock happy in this moment. And forever, probably.

Gwaine looks at Leon out of the corner of his eye, and says lowly:

“I’m fairly certain I’m going to try and kill him if I look at him again, so what’s the King up to?”

Merlin tenses slightly, but Leon squeezes his hand and he relaxes again. Lancelot raises and eyebrow and before Leon can reply, he says:

“What, no princess?”

Gwaine narrows his eyes before gruffly saying:

“Princess was an affectionate nickname, and I’m not feeling all that affectionate towards him right now.”

The others nod knowingly, turning their attention back to Merlin and Aithusa. Leon leaves his hand in Merlin’s, but looks at Gwaine before saying lowly:

“He went to deal with the horses. Now we know we no longer need a quick get-away, they need untacking and feeding and watering. They were pretty spooked by... they were pretty spooked.”

Leon looks back at Merlin when his hand gets squeezed, to see him frowning slightly. Leon catches his eye and gives him a small smile, but Merlin just gets teary-eyed again, before sniffing and muttering:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to I just... I’m sorry.”

Only a single tear has time to fall before Lancelot has his hand on Merlin’s shoulder again (comfortingly), and Elyan has his hand on Gwaine’s shoulder (forcefully). Leon shakes his head softly, and responds in a gentle voice:

“You don’t have anything to apologise for Merlin, we are the ones who should be sorry, for not being able to protect you.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and he goes to retort, but Gwaine beats him to it, obviously trying to keep the anger out of his voice:

“From the so-called Druid and from him. We should have done better.”

Leon can feel Merlin’s hand begin to shake, so he squeezes it once more as Merlin shakes his head and speaks, his voice sounding stronger already:

“It’s not his fault. He was just shaken and scared and I should have-”

Gwaine clenches his jaw, struggling to keep control of his rage, but Elyan grips his shoulder tighter in warning, and replies in his stead, interrupting Merlin:

“There’s no excuse Merlin. All of us have been attacked by magic, but equally, all of us have been attacked by swords. I mean look at Leon, giving Dragons a second chance after what happened. I would perhaps understand brief anger, but there is no way to justify laying his hands on you in such a way that leaves bruises, and certainly no justification for putting a blade to your throat.”

Merlin frowns, and looks like he wants to argue, but once again, a knight beats him to it, Lancelot this time:

“No, Merls. We know how much he means to you. But what he did was wrong, there’s no rationalisation. We all know that you’ve already forgiven him, and that’s why we can’t yet. Probably not for a while.”

Merlin sighs, looking pained, and Leon uses his other hand to tilt his chin up:

“Not to say that we won’t ever forgive him. But someone has to be angry at him for what he’s done, and Lord knows you aren’t gonna do it. Consider us your stand-ins.”

Merlin smiles slightly, and Leon considers that a win, returning the smile and nodding slightly to himself, before looking back down at the Dragon, now seemingly asleep, and purring, on Merlin’s lap.

Elyan releases the death grip on Gwaine’s shoulder, when the now much calmer knight, with a smile on his face, says:

“So... you have a Dragon??”

Merlin chuckles fondly, before looking to him and saying quietly:

“Yeah. Her name is Aithusa. I’m surprised she came alone, Kilgharrah usually doesn’t like it when she runs off.”

Lancelot winces slightly as the other knights look shocked, before Percival says:

“Kil-what-now? There’s another one??”

Merlin grimaces slightly, before looking to Leon worriedly and tightening the grip on his hand:

“Uhh... yeah. Kilgharrah is the name of the Dragon that... attacked Camelot a few years ago.-”

Leon straightens his back and gulps, but doesn’t remove his hand from Merlin’s, nodding at him to continue:

“-I didn’t have control over him until right at the end. I told him to leave and never come back, unless I called him-”

Lancelot makes a noise of realisation as he nods, and interrupts Merlin:

“That’s probably why Aithusa came alone. You didn’t call for her, and technically we’re still within Camelot’s borders. He couldn’t come even if he wanted to. Poor sod is probably clomping around at the edge of the border freaking out.”

Merlin looks to Lancelot and nods, satisfied to feel Leon relax a bit, before looking back to the First Knight apologetically:

“-He does feel really bad at that. He just wanted to get back at Uther for the whole... genocide thing I guess. But that’s no excuse. I just didn’t want to be the one to be responsible for killing the last Dragon, even if Kilgharrah personally might’ve deserved it at the time. That was all before Aithusa came along.”

Everyone nods in understanding, before focussing their attention back on Aithusa. She really was like a giant puppy, even if they had to be wary to avoid her claws as she twitched in her sleep.

Merlin sighs, looking forlorn once again as he realises how exhausted he is, knowing that they’re going to have to get up and make camp at some point. 

He can cope with an awkward, tense silence between him and Arthur easily enough, that’s what the last few weeks had consisted of. But an awkward and tense silence between everyone? Elyan and Percival inwardly fuming? Gwaine outwardly fuming? Leon and Lancelot being all protective? He’s not sure he can deal with that.

At Merlin’s sigh, Lancelot tilts his head to catch his eye. His brow creases as he says softly:

“What is it, Merls?”

Merlin looks up, still squeezing Leon’s hand, before quietly replying:

“Nothing, I’m just tired. We have to re-make camp at some point and I’m not sure if I can deal with everyone being so...”

He waves his free hand around loosely, and Lancelot huffs out a laugh, before kicking Gwaine, getting everyone’s attention:

“We have to go make camp. But Merlin is exhausted, and doesn’t want to deal with any of this shit tonight, so we’re all going to have to play nice for the time being.”

Gwaine growls, and quickly retorts:

“Like hell am I gonna treat him with-”

Lancelot kicks him again, harder this time, and Elyan replaces the harsh hand on his shoulder before forcefully saying:

“Right now, it doesn’t matter what Arthur deserves. Merlin needs peace and quiet, and that’s what we’re going to give him.”

Gwaine grumbles, but begrudgingly nods, and Merlin gives him a grateful smile. 

The knights all stand up, and Merlin shakes Aithusa awake, giving a small chuckle when she stretches like a cat.

Once she takes her weight off of his lap, Merlin follows the knights to stand, almost falling over at the weakness in his legs. Leon and Lancelot catch an arm each, steadying him as he shuts his eyes tightly, willing the dizziness away.

He feels a hand wipe the hair from his forehead, and opens his eyes slowly to see Percival checking him over with an assessing gaze:

“I’m fine, just tired, a little dizzy.”

Lancelot nods in understanding, humming slightly:

“Hmm. I’m not surprised, you haven’t done anything this big in a while, and I doubt you’ve slept well in the last few weeks.”

Merlin gives him a sheepish look as he shakes his head, but it’s Elyan’s questioning gaze that Lancelot responds to:

“I found out by accident when I first met him. Our Warlock isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

He says it with a small smirk as he looks back down to Merlin, who’s looking indignant:

“Hey! I managed to keep everyone else from finding out.”

Gwaine looks guilty as he raises his arm quietly:

“Actually uh... I knew. I mean not about the whole Emrys, prophecy thing. But the magic stuff, yeah.”

Merlin looks at him, shocked. The other knights share his expression for just a moment before they laugh at the look on Merlin’s face:

“How?!”

Gwaine puts his arm down and laughs again:

“Mate... we met in the middle of a tavern fight, in which shit started literally flying about the moment you joined in.-”

He shrugged, before casually continuing:

“-I figured you would tell me when you wanted to. Until then, it wasn’t my secret to know. You also have me to thank for backing you up every time The Prick asked if I saw you at the tavern.”

Merlin laughed and nodded his thanks, before looking over to where said Prick was setting up camp, a few metres beyond the edge of the crater.

His face fell slightly and the others follow his gaze, tensing slightly in anger when they saw what he was looking at. Merlin takes his arms from Leon and Lancelot, finally feeling steady on his feet, before quietly saying:

“Come on, we might as well get this over with. I’m starving, and tired, and Aithusa will get bored if we don’t start entertaining her.”

Everyone turns around to see Aithusa (now she was sure that her Lord was ok), prancing about in the crater; chasing birds and digging holes.

Merlin raises an eyebrow and everyone else chuckles slightly. Gwaine pushes Lancelot out of the way and takes Merlin’s hand, beginning to walk determinedly towards camp. Everyone catches up quickly, Leon taking Merlin’s other hand when the man had reached out to grab his cape.

Gwaine looks down at Merlin, seeing how nervous he is, and says:

“So. How long until she’s big enough to be ridden? I want you to take me flying, Merlin.”

Merlin chuckles, and looks back to see Aithusa happily trailing them:

“Not for a while. Dragons grow slow, so it’ll be another few years at least. Plus she’s got some issues with bone growth that we’re still trying to fix. She’ll be fine in the long run, but her development is taking a lot longer than normal. She still can’t speak.”

Everyone stops at that, and Merlin’s arms get yanked back when he continued walking. He turns to see Leon giving him an incredulous look:

“Dragons can speak?!”

Merlin tilts his head in confusion, before laughing and tugging them forwards again:

“Yeah. I forget that Uther basically erased all knowledge on Dragons, but they’re just as intelligent as we are. Kilgharrah would like to think that they’re more intelligent, but he’s always been a cryptic, egotistical bastard.-”

The others follow his pace and nod, but the mood darkens as they almost reach the camp. Merlin continues faintly, but quickly:

“I’ll tell you everything I know when... when we get back.”

Leon squeezes his hand, knowing that he was about to say “if”, assuring him that “when” is the right word.

Arthur looks up at the group and gulps from his place next to the fire. He straightens up, the anxiety showing clearly on his face, but before anyone can say anything, Aithusa jumps in between him.

He falls back at the sudden movement and she begins to growl; he widens his eyes as she stalks slowly towards him.

Gwaine smirks again, the others managing to keep their faces blank, but Merlin looks shocked, before he jumps forward and puts a hand on the Dragon’s back:

“Aithusa no. He’s a... friend. It’s ok, he’s-”

Arthur jumps to his feet and interrupts him:

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll... go... sit over there.”

He gestures behind him, and walks quickly away from the fire, sitting just within the fire’s light, the evening dimming around them.

Aithusa tilts her head, snaps her jaws at him once more before completely changing disposition. She begins bouncing around the fire, chirping happily and playfully trying to catch floating embers in her claws.

Merlin smiles slightly and the other knights (bar Gwaine, who is glaring very pointedly at Arthur) chuckle at her antics, before they all sit in a semi circle on the opposite side of the fire to Arthur, Merlin in the middle.

The Warlock is once again wedged protectively between Leon and Gwaine, and he fiddles softly with Leon’s cape in his lap as he stares fondly at Aithusa.

Elyan moves to the packs, unloading food and water and cooking pots. Merlin gets up to help, but Gwaine pulls him back down by the hand and holds on firmly as he says:

“You’ve been through enough. We can put up with Elyan’s shitty cooking for a couple nights.”

Merlin tries to pull away with a “But I can-” but Leon grabs his other hand, holding him down and interrupting:

“Absolutely not. You said yourself that you’re tired. If Elyan needs help, he can ask one of us.”

Merlin huffs sulkily and Leon laughs, stroking the back of his hand protectively.

Leon had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and whilst they had virtually nothing to do with each other the first few years, they were still friendly acquaintances, even then. Leon knew full well that it was Merlin who would have a hot meal left in his room after a late patrol, and Merlin always appreciated how Leon kept as many weapons in the armoury in as good nick as possible, so Merlin didn’t have to deal with it.

Besides, even before they knew each other’s names, Leon always found Merlin’s reactions to Arthur’s stupidity funny. He could hardly say it out loud, being the Perfect Knight and all, but he always thought it was a good thing that Arthur had someone at his side keeping him humble, and calling him out in ways no one else would.

Of course they had gotten much closer over the years, as did all of the knights, thanks to Merlin. Currently, Leon was feeling just a tinge of regret at being so grateful for Merlin’s presence at Arthur’s side; he had never really thought about how difficult being that man’s babysitter would be, especially now he knew Merlin had magic. And some sort of destiny.

Time passes fairly quickly whilst Elyan cooks, the others taking to heart what Lancelot had said and trying to keep a quiet, but easy conversation going.

They ask Merlin various questions about Aithusa, Kilgharrah, the Druids, the weird name that he had been called. He answered them all easily enough, but they notice the way he hesitates when they ask about his magic specifically or the prophecies, so they steer clear of those topics.

They’ll definitely want to know the whole story eventually, and they’re practically buzzing with desperation to ask Merlin to show them something magical, but they know that now is not the time.

Dinner is finally served, and despite Gwaine’s statement, it wasn’t actually that bad. Mainly because every time Elyan went to add something to the pot, he would look back desperately at Merlin, and took into account the shakes and nods of his head with a grateful smile.

He did struggle to cover the scowl on his face when he delivered Arthur’s bowl to him, replying to The King’s quiet “thank you, Elyan” with an even quieter “don’t mention it” .

Dinner was eaten quickly and in silence. They hadn’t been unconscious for long, and hour or two at most, but they had all worked up an understandable appetite, Merlin especially. He would never ask for seconds, but knowing that, Elyan gave him an extra big serving without a word.

They entertained themselves after dinner by throwing the last scraps of meat to Aithusa, watching her jump and flip and fly about the camp. Merlin had objected at first, but gave in when he saw the small grin on Leon’s face, and heard the way the others were laughing. The City was only a few days ride away, they could always hunt on the way back.

It didn’t take long for her to tire out and curl up at Merlin’s feet to sleep. Like Merlin had mentioned, Aithusa was developing slowly, and she normally couldn’t fly very far; it must’ve taken a huge amount of energy and effort for her to get all the way here. But like the Knights, she was very protective, and there was no way she could not check on her Lord, after she and Kilgharrah had felt the anguish he was in.

As Kilgharrah once again crosses Merlin’s mind, he sighs, and makes mental note to call him in the morning, when he had more energy.

Merlin is distracted from his thoughts when the camp goes silent all of a sudden, and Gwaine reaches over to squeeze his hand. He looks up in worry, to see that Arthur had stood, and walked a little closer, though he made sure to stay the other side of the fire.

Merlin tenses slightly. He tries not to let it show, but he can knows that he failed when he feels Leon’s hand firmly in the middle of his back. Hidden from the others, but a silent reassurance.

Arthur gulps, obviously nervous, but he meets Merlin’s gaze, flinching at the slight fear in his eyes:

“Merlin, I know nothing I say will-”

He’s interrupted by Gwaine growling and standing suddenly, stepping in front of Merlin protectively, but it’s Lancelot’s harsh words that cut him off fully:

“Not tonight, Arthur. We’re all tired and angry so just... not tonight.”

Arthur clenches his jaw, and blinks away tears before nodding:

“Yes, I... I understand.”

With that, he sniffles slightly before taking a step back. He looks to the floor as he mumbles something about checking the perimeter, before slowly walking away from the camp, into the night.

Merlin lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and relaxes slightly as Leon runs his hand over his back. Gwaine stares after Arthur for a few moments, deliberating on whether or not to follow him (and presumably, kick his ass). Merlin reaching up to take his hand and pull him back down makes his mind up, and he settles back into his seat, Merlin’s small hand clasped between his two larger ones.

Percival speaking up breaks the tense silence:

“It’s late and Lance is right, we’re all tired. If we want to make quick work of the journey home, and have time to hunt, then we should get some sleep.”

Murmurs of agreement float up around the group, and Gwaine, voice still tense and angry, says:

“I’ll take first-”

But he’s quickly interrupted by Elyan, softly laughing:

“Absolutely not, Gwaine. If you’re left alone we’ll all wake to find the King dead in the morning.”

Gwaine raises a challenging eyebrow, not denying anything, and Elyan huffs, Percival muttering:

“Fine. But I’m taking it with you so you don’t get a chance to smother him.”

Gwaine gives a sarcastic looking smile, before ruffling Merlin’s hair fondly and walking towards the fire. He adds another log, grabs his bedroll, and settles down against a tree, Percival sitting at his side.

Everyone else gathers their rolls, and whilst normally they spread out, they all seem rather desperate to stay as close to Merlin as possible.

Normally he would complain, they all snore, and Merlin is definitely expecting nightmares tonight, but he can’t find it in himself to send them away, and to be perfectly honest, he's certain that they would just move back the moment he closed his eyes anyway.

The Warlock finds himself tucked under Lancelot’s arm, with Leon a respectful distance away on his other side, though still within arm’s reach. Elyan settles somewhere below his feet, and for the first time in weeks, Merlin finds himself fully relaxed. 

Aithusa sleepily moves from her spot by Merlin’s feet, to curl up with Gwaine and Percival, and Merlin smiles at the thought that she not only trusts his friends in general, but trusts them enough to leave Merlin in their care. Dragons are protective and possessive creatures, and that trust speaks volumes.

Merlin is still a little miserable, and he almost resents himself for still being scared of Arthur despite his obvious regret, but... with all that happened... well. You can’t really blame him.

He’s got a gaggle of very protective knights around him, one of which he can vaguely hear trying to persuade another to commit regicide when no one was looking.

He has time to huff out a small laugh as Lancelot pulls him closer, before he drifts off; much quicker than he thought he would. He was comforted by the warmth behind him, the presence at his feet, the guardians watching over him, and the hand reaching towards him in the dark, just about close enough to lay fingers over Merlin’s heartbeat.

No nightmares plague him that night, and he doesn’t even wake to the warning growls sent Arthur’s way when he eventually returned to camp.

The next few days, hell, the next few months would probably be difficult, but he finds himself not as anxious now he knows he won’t have to face it alone.

~

THE END

I don’t think I’ll write a part two to this, but if someone wants to extend it, feel free, same as normal: credit and tag me :)

I’ve had the whole speech written out in full in my phone notes for like two months, but only recently got round to actually turning it into anything. I hope ya’ll enjoyed it!! I wanted to write something hella angsty so....

I’m fairly certain whatever I write next will be the dead opposite of this (FLUFF fluff) but honestly who knows.

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want my thoughts on :)

[themidnightguardian]

just to be safe, here’s some tw: discussion of religion, mentions of authority figures trying to coerce a child, discussion of purity culture, brief and non-graphic mentions of alcoholism (family history) and sexual assault and abuse (in regards to fanfic) and genocide (the bible)

---

In light of how puritanical people are getting with trying to censor fanfic, I am thinking once again about how when I was young, I grew up in the catholic church. We went every sunday, my mom was a sunday school teacher, I have an uncle who’s a priest, all that jazz. but every sunday on the drive back home, my mom would draw us into a discussion about what we thought of the sermon, ask us to dissect our opinions on what we had learned. it wasn’t meant as a way to check if we had paid attention; she wanted us to think critically about what we were being taught and decide for ourselves if we agreed with it.

so when my other sunday school teachers said that my dad and grandmother were going to hell for being non-religious, or when our priest tried to tell me god would love me less if I didn’t drink the holy wine despite the fact that I was concerned since alcoholism ran in my family, or when the youth group leader tried to get me to sign a contract to ‘sign over’ my free will to god’s plan as if it was a tradable good, I didn’t have to take these authority figures at their word. I could decide for myself that it was bullshit and say no.

I am not religious anymore and neither is my mom, but that’s not actually the point of this post. The point is that engaging with toxic/problematic content does not inherently make you believe it.

Right now there is a rise in this purity culture, protect the children, get rid of any content (but especially literature) that conveys allegedly immoral ideals, etc. A lot of the arguments surrounding the regulation of these things suggest that people who write “problematic” content are obviously in agreement with it, or that people who read/view “problematic” content are at a high risk of normalizing it and then partaking in such things in real life.

The key to making sure the media & messages you are consuming don’t impact your real-life actions, however, is not to simply get rid of anything that is potentially “dangerous.” It is critical thought.

Without critical thinking, I would probably still be Catholic, and as a nonbinary queer, I would probably be so deep in the closet and full of self-loathing and denial that I wouldn’t even know that about myself. And yet if I had never been exposed to Catholicism at all, I don’t actually think that would be better. Because during the bible readings and the sermons and the sunday school classes, I decided that I loathe self-sacrifice to the extent of martyrdom. I decided that authority figures do not always have my best interests at heart. I decided that there is no good reason, ever, for genocide, not even in god’s name, not even if you are god.

When I apply that same critical thinking to some of the things I’ve read in literature and fanfiction, especially the things that people want banned because it’s “not safe to read” and “people will start to act like this” and “it’s glorifying these horrible things and everyone who reads it is sick”, what I’ve actually taken away from that kind of fic is this:

Sometimes people have a good reason to do horrible things, and yet that doesn’t make their actions okay. If you don’t want sex and your partner makes you, it’s still sexual assault. Abuse can take on a thousand different appearances, and many, many, many of them are not physical. People are rarely all good or all bad, and everyone is shaped by their experiences to some extent.

The idea that reading about things that are uncomfortable or dangerous or illegal is enough on it’s own to make someone repeat those behaviors is frankly ludicrous. I’d bet that most people are actually coming away more aware of the toxic/problematic things to avoid in real life rather than perpetuating them. And if you are becoming desensitized to the horrors in the world like one post I saw suggested, that’s either because you weren’t a super empathetic person in the first place or it’s a coping mechanism to deal with the fact that you cannot personally fix most of it.

[butwhatifidothis]

Who on your side is going to call you out? Literally every recruitable character except Bernadetta and Lindhardt? And you CAN'T objectively say that the route leaves an objectively worse off Fodlan. A lot of the characters have the exact same single endings they do in other routes. Meaning a lot of their endings are nice and happy and hopeful despite the fact they aided in the conquest of a nation. Hell, some single character endings specific to crimson flower STILL end happily despite this. Alois happily moves to remire and becomes a farmer with his family. Mercedes opens up an orphanage. Also you can't really use Felix' single ending as a mark against Crimson flower, seeing as that's also his ending in all his non blue lions endings.

Those quotes aren't actually addressing Byleth's actions beyond said characters being pissed at Byleth. 

The demonic beasts are never mentioned. The fact that you are aiding in conquest and genocide isn't talked about, just the fact that you are on the opposing side. And some of those characters that are pissed at Byleth and questioning them ALSO *conviently* forget those grievances once they're recruited. Suddenly everybody's all for blindly following byleth in their aiding the conquest of fodlann and the potential genocide of the last few nabateans.

So what, is edelgard "im going to assassinate my classmates and immediately get murdered by bandits in that attempt and nemesis did nothing wrong!" Adrestia suddenly master manipulator? Are all the characters just so blindly loyal to byleth that they're willing to ignore their morals? a

You broke down exactly why, no matter how you look at it, villain route or not, CF falls flat! Because inconsistent writing dictates that 3H can't go all the way with making CF/Edelgard too bad! The full scope of Edelgard's actions never being addressed, even off of CF (the Demonic Beasts are never called out, but the use of them is very clearly villainous given what they are, to use one of your examples)! This is why I have issues with CF - not because oh shit you're the bad guy, but in this regard they don't go far enough! This is exactly why my feelings are mixed towards CF, because of these exact flaws within it.

But even with that, there are still some things of what you said I don't quite agree with?

Like, Edelgard's and Hubert's endings apparently don't point to CF being a villain route, but Alois and Mercedes' do point it to not being one? Why are the latter's endings being given more weight than the former's?

"Those quotes aren't actually addressing Byleth's actions beyond said characters being pissed at Byleth."

...Um... yeah they are? Because they're pissed at Byleth for siding with Edelgard and the Empire? They're not just randomly mad at Byleth for no reason - the characters know what Edelgard and the Empire have done, they don't have to go down the laundry list when they express their anger at Byleth joining her/them. When Ignatz says “We can’t place the future of Fódlan in Edelgard’s hands. If you’re allied with the Empire, I have no choice but to fight you," him not specifically laying out every single crime Edelgard has done does not suddenly mean that those crimes aren't what he's referring to. Shamir saying “You still align yourself with the emperor? What a shame. Let’s make this quick. I don’t want the loser to suffer," doesn't mean that she's just peaved at Byleth for no reason. Ingrid’s quote, “You have chosen to assist the Empire, even while knowing of their deeds. I am truly disappointed in you, Professor. Prepare yourself, heel of the Empire! A wretch like you will never be qualified to rule over Fódlan!” very clearly lays it out that it is all that the Empire has done that is the reason why she’s mad at you and why she thinks you’d be a shitty ruler (and if Byleth is shitty for choosing to side with Edelgard, then that inherently means that Edelgard is also shitty).

Why are they mad at Byleth? Why are they criticizing you specifically joining the Empire? Why are none of them saying “Gee Byleth, it’s pretty ass of you to join Claude’s side, you heartless bitch” on VW? Or similar statement towards Byleth on AM and SS? Why is the Empire unique in being called evil, bloody, savage, etc.? It’s because the action of joining the Empire - joining Edelgard - is a bad one, one that throws away morals to chase the false image of “revolution” Edelgard posits. 

So what, is edelgard "im going to assassinate my classmates and immediately get murdered by bandits in that attempt and nemesis did nothing wrong!" Adrestia suddenly master manipulator? Are all the characters just so blindly loyal to byleth that they're willing to ignore their morals?

The answer? Yes. The same way that Byleth is blindingly loyal to Edelgard and throws away their canonical hatred of TWS to follow her, the other characters throw away themselves to blindingly follow Byleth. Byleth places their trust in Edelgard despite all of the horrible things she’s done, and their character becomes worse for it - the same thing happens to the cast that foolishly decide to continue placing their trust in Byleth despite siding with the villain Edelgard. They either stagnate in their character progression or outright regress, the exact same as Byleth, because CF as a route is all about regression. That’s Edelgard’s whole motivation. It’s not moving forward to a new future, it’s going back to how Fodlan used to be - back under complete Imperial control, with a Hresvelg as the one ruler of Fodlan. 

And Edelgard having one shitty plan and being wrong about history doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to make others look worse than her, how to prop herself up as the hero of the story - we see this from Ladislava, someone who is genuinely completely loyal to Edelgard specifically, that characters genuinely fall for Edelgard’s words. We see this in how she makes Dimitri and Rhea and Claude into these targets that must be destroyed “for the good of Fodlan,” that she can easily shove any and all responsibility for her actions onto her victims. We see this in how she’s just “taking back humanity’s freedom” when she slaughters a heartbroken and maddened Rhea - maddened due to her actions - only to shove humanity under her actually tyrannical rule. Hell, her being ignorant of history again falls back into how CF is partly about ignorance - you’re always ignorant to the depths of your horrific actions due to blind loyalty, so being wrong about history and never being corrected is par for the course.

Where CF falls short is the following: 

the aforementioned endings that always remain the same even on CF, 

where certain characters aren’t given enough attention despite being on CF (Ingrid definitely needed a Felix treatment for specifically this route, since she’s going after the Kingdom directly, for example), 

where even with the idea of the BE getting influenced by the regression of CF they still way too easily side with Edelgard (Ferdinand is by far the worse victim of this), 

where the end result of Fodlan is unification no matter what route you do (more the game overall that suffers from this tbh), 

where the characters don’t mention the depths of Edelgard’s actions off of CF (which is partly why the BE staying with Edelgard on CF comes across poorly, because they never really delve into her actions so them not doing so on CF doesn’t come across very well) - VW is the worst offender of this, as while it makes some sense to have Edelgard be a sympathetic villain on the other routes, doing the same here makes literally no sense (you only know her as a warmonger trying to murder you).

I know this isn’t like, the most popular opinion, but I don’t find it to be an intrinsically bad idea to have the player initially think that they’re not playing a villain route until they go back over the numerous, frankly loud undertones of villainy and evil you help participate in and realize “oh shit wait a minute.” Dragging down characters with you on your path of ignorance and regression? Sounds cool! Playing the other routes and seeing what you essentially look like to all of the people you fight on CF - a heartless conqueror stamping down on all opposition - as you play from the infinitely more heroic POV of the other two lords (+ Byleth’s independent POV) and see Edelgard in the light of a villain (that light the non-recruited/non-CF characters see you in)? Neat! Realizing that you’ve helped a lying, racist, imperialistic warmonger get exactly what she wants as she drags down Fodlan in darkness and tyranny? Interesting! The water is just muddied by poor writing decisions/oversights, but it is very much still (villainous) water. CF is flawed, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t what it is.

But I will ask you this nonnie, if you don’t mind! If you don’t think CF is a villain route, what is it to you? Genuinely curious! 

[maaarzsie]

a rough outline of the reversed/what if au that marzsie has shared a while ago!

tw//deaths, reverse blackeneds,, danganronpa thh

chapter 1

sayaka ends leon after successfully luring him to makotos room after they swapped rooms, wrote makotos name (NAEGI) on the wall with leons blood but she did not notice him still alive and tried to wipe it off, making it look like “11-=61″ instead. 

sayaka accused makoto and convinced almost everyone that he was the blackened, but during the trial they uncovered what really happened and sayaka was executed. 

chapter 2

chihiro went to meet with mondo and confessed the secret, which triggered mondo. chihiro dodged mondos attack causing mondo to fall and hit his head on the edge of chihiros locker. scared that mondo would either get back up and kill him, the secret being shared, or the possibility that everyone will think chihiro as a dangerous individual who tried to kill mondo, chihiro lifted the dumbell and dropped it on mondos head while he was down, ending him. 

they found mondos body raised up by electrical cords with the words “BLOOD LUST” on the wall behind him. taka was heartbroken and was determined to figure out who did this to his friend,

during the trial, toko was outed as genocider jack, but they figured out that it was byakuya who messed with mondos body to frame her. they go into a panic now that theyre unsure of who it is. celeste mentioned that she noticed mondo wandering off the night before with a tracksuit over his shoulder, telling her that hes off to train with someone. chihiro accidentally blurted out that mondo wasnt wearing it when they met. chihiro gave up and confessed to the murder, apologized, not only to mondo but to everyone, especially to taka. chihiro was outed by monokouma then executed. taka has officially broken down.

chapter 3

celeste went to talk to taka one night to ask if he wanted to talk, because of how depressed he has gotten after the last trial. she suggested that they should share and talk about the secret envelopes they received from monokuma before the last trial with the intention of lifting at least something off his shoulders, but instead it made taka defensive, she backs off. she started to talk about her cat before she got cut off by monokumas night announcement. 

taka suddenly realized that she was probably the last person besides chihiro to see mondo alive. he asks her if she knew what was going to happen that night, which she declined. he asked why she didnt find anything suspicious or why she didnt tell mondo to go back to his dorm because that was the rule she made for everyone to stay safe. he starts mumbling and accusing her for not doing anything that night which couldve potentially saved mondo. she tells him that it was not her responsibility to enforce the rule, and that she gave up following it as well because no one else was.

this set off taka, he went silent and walked over to his bed. celeste notices him taking the sheathed katana/sword(?). she walks over and asks him what hes thinking of which he replies with “its not your responsibility anyways”. she forcibly tries to take it from him and a struggle starts between them, taka being physically stronger than her he was winning for the majority of it until he gets scratched in the face by her nails, making him back off of her. as he moved the sheathe of the sword was removed. taka started breaking down blaming her for not feeling any guilt or remorse for the death of their friend. 

celeste has had enough, she tells him that it was mondo who attacked chihiro first, so it was slightly deserved because it was self defense. and that if he were mondos friend too he wouldve had responsibility protecting him as well but they both failed. in blind anger he slashed her right across the chest. they both went quiet. he catches her in shock as she fell forward, processing what he just did. he begged her to not die and that he didnt mean to hurt her. after a while he knew what had to be done and tried to hide the body.

he carefully sneaked to her room to make it look like she died there instead, but hifumi caught him in the act and out of panic he grabbed a picture frame on her nightstand and smashed it against hifumis head, now he has two kills to hide. he tried to stage her room like she had a fight with hifumi then went back to his room to clean himself and his room. the next morning he pretended to slip and fall down the stairs to make it look like the scratch on his face was from the fall and not from celeste. they found their body in her room just like how taka planned it.

it was a very messed up and hurtful trial. they were badmouthing celeste which taka was not okay with listening. at one point he tells them that her cat wouldnt like what theyre saying about her which they found odd. he pointed out that celeste was missing one of her left nails and they pressed onto him for that comment. taka eventually breaks down and admits his guilt, loudly apologizing to everyone and to celeste and hifumi.

taka was executed.