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vinestaffery · 4 months

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On pleasing demand, I am here once more to deliver more angst. Since I love it so much and so does everyone else. some bits are written from medkit's and broker's point of view at the start, but it will slowly shift to yours!! enjoy!!!

cw/tw: character death, signs of potential abuse/neglect(?), mentions of injury from another proceed with caution and care!

Scythe wasn't taking anything okay anymore, and she's gotten rougher around Medkit and Broker.

Broker would struggle handling her tempers at points where he didn't know what to do.

Medkit suggested taking a break for Scythe.

Good grief. It was a bad take and ended up bad for Medkit.

Thrown out because he suggested it, it ended up with him now staying with Sword more than with the other three.

Broker ended up leaving himself and staying with Zuka for a bit before finding a proper area to take shelter in.

Scythe was becoming more... explosive, dangerous

She was taken out of the gang! Matches a few times because she had nearly harmed Boombox to the point of recognition.

"I'm too tired to fight anymore,"

"Broker."

"We can't do anything to help her, look at her!"

"You wouldn't understand how it's like to have someone walk out on you,"

"But it just… I just can't handle it. She's gotten more worse and we are sitting here and watching."

Broker and Medkit would have long talks with eachother at nights

Their worried, really worried

Your not there anymore to help support Scythe anymore

So what's the point?

You were the light in her world, and you walked out on it.

When Vine Staff told you about the serious injury she had gotten from Scythe

You panicked.

Was she actively looking for you?

Was she trying to harm people you loved and cherished?

Vine Staff reassured you it was nothing like that at all

Infact, it was because she was upset that you had disappeared

"Dearie, you know how much Scythe appreciates you, maybe you should try approach her this time?"

You were surprised!! To see her again?

"Are you joking?"

"[…]…"

"There is barely a person in her anymore, Vine Staff."

You were deny any chances of seeing her again, but it wasn't too long till Medkit was invited over.

God was he relieved to see you

It ended up being more of a nicer talk with him rather than a forceful one

Turns out he found it understanding and that it was okay for you to leave for your own sake

But leaving out of nowhere was a no-go, specifically for Scythe

"It wasn't suppose to go this far."

"You know how she is, especially with news such as that,"

When Vine Staff had come home that one day, with a large wound, you really wished it didn't go this far to hurting a companion

"I'm too tired of this,"

"So am I, just like how I am with Subspace's worthless attempts at capturing me and taking out 'revenge,' but we can't have everything we want."

His blunt attitude always felt like home.

"She can't keep doing this, she just can't."

"Then come home, and then maybe this all can end."

You took that hope, even though you were at your wits end.

The rough sound of sizzling coming from the home was pushed over with clashing. The tension in the air was palpable as you made your way back to the source of the conflict.

The smell of burnt food wafted through the air, adding to the chaos of the situation. You knew you had to intervene before things escalated further. As you entered the kitchen, you saw the source of the conflict - a pot left unattended on the stove, billowing smoke.

"Scythe?" You called out, hoping to get their attention before the situation got any worse. The sound of footsteps approaching indicated that they had heard you, giving you a sense of relief that the situation might be resolved before any real damage was done.

"What." Scythe turned to face you, their expression a mix of annoyance and surprise. "I just got distracted; I didn't mean for this to happen," they explained, gesturing towards the smoking pot. You could see the tension in their shoulders ease as you reassured them that everything was under control.

It had looked like she had completely forgotten who you were; did she not find your presence familiar? The sound of her tail-shaker sensed an obvious threat and danger towards you. She spat with venom in her words. Her hostility grew ever more.

"Scythe, it's me," you muttered. But she continued to glare at you, suspicion evident in her eyes. It was clear that something had changed in her demeanor towards you, and you couldn't help but wonder what had caused it.

"What do you want? I thought you wanted to never see me again." Her words cut deep, leaving you feeling bewildered and hurt. The distance between you seemed to grow wider with each passing moment. You looked away in disdain.

"What? You just going to stand 'der like a lost puppy?" There was nothing familiar about this Scythe at all. She was cold—not the kind-hearted woman you used to know before. You realized that the warmth and familiarity you once shared with her had vanished. She was replaced by a sense of hostility and indifference. It was a painful realization that left you feeling lost and alone in her presence. "Scythe? What happened to you?" Your words were hard for her to comprehend. Scythe's eyes hardened, a flicker of recognition passing through them before being replaced by a steely resolve. "I've changed," She said it simply, her voice devoid of emotion. It was clear that the person you once knew was gone, replaced by someone unrecognizable and distant.

"I've changed, and I'm not even sure who I am anymore. Broker left; Medkit left. Everyone left." She placed a cold cup of alcohol down. Taking a deep breath, you tried to find the right words to reach the person who seemed like a stranger now. But as you looked into her eyes, you realized that this was a battle she was fighting alone, and all you could do was stand by and watch.

You sat next to her on the dusty bar stool. Feeling helpless, you silently offered your support, knowing that sometimes all someone needs is a listening ear. The silence between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together. "We've both changed."

"I harmed you; I broke your promise, Angel Eyes. I broke everything." Her tone spoke of long, restless nights. "We can't change the past, but we can move forward together," you whispered softly, reaching out to hold her hand. "I forgive you, and I'm here for you now." The weight of her burdens seemed to lift slightly as she squeezed your hand in return, a glimmer of hope shining in her tear-filled eyes.

"Ya, promise? Angel Eyes?" Scythe gleamed.

"Promise, Scythe. I'll never leave your side," you vowed, feeling a sense of peace settle between you both. The bond of trust and understanding between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together.

But that was only nights ago. Scythe stared at her bloodied blade as she let out somber tears. The weight of her burdens seemed to return, heavier than before; she had killed you. All because you had decided to protect the flower demon that you considered family. Something she wished you considered her.

"Angel Eyes, oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, my angel eyes." Scythe's voice trembled as she whispered your name, regret and sorrow evident in her every word. The bond you once shared is now shattered, leaving only heartache and a painful realization of irreversible consequences.

RUNS AWAAYYYY

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wingedblooms · 1 year

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Like a moth to a flame

Maasverse spoilers below. Proceed with caution.

When Feyre and Elain visit the weaver near solstice, we learn that there is a very specific kind of light that not only withstands the darkness, but cuts through it like a blade.

"The silver thread," Elain asked. "What is that called?" The weaver paused the loom again, the colorful strings vibrating. She held my sister's gaze. No attempt at a smile this time. "I call it Hope." My throat became unbearably tight, my eyes stinging enough that I had to turn away, to walk back toward that extraordinary tapestry. The weave explained to my sister, "I made it after I mastered Void." I stared and stared at the black fabric that was like peering into a pit of hell. And then stared at the iridescent, living silver thread that cut through it, bright despite the darkness that devoured all other light and color. (acofas)

That light is Hope. It is a living thread of iridescent light like the healing light that flows from Nesta:

Iridescent light began flowing from Nesta's body. Into Feyre. [...] Tendrils of light drifted between the sisters. And one, delicate and loving, floated toward Mor. (acosf)

I’ve always wondered if the tendrils of iridescent light between the sisters is a hint of what lies between them: raw magic.

“Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power.” (acosf)

We hear about the raw magic of High Fae when the inner circle learns about Nesta’s Made swords. And Sarah just happens to drop art, jewelry, and weaponry as objects that can be imbued with raw magic. Objects that make us think of the sisters: Feyre creates art, Nesta is compared to and actually forges swords, and Elain is gifted art and jewelry that embody nature. She is a blooming flower compared to Nesta’s freshly forged sword (acowar). And the two sisters who have had their stories told have used raw magic to heal (Cauldron; Feyre, Nyx), to create, like the High Fae once did. We will likely see the third sister exhibit rawer magic as well.

We're led to believe that the Mother shows Nesta how to heal Feyre with iridescent light when she agrees to return her magic. We also see a luminous hand (presumably the Mother's) prevent the Cauldron from taking all of Nesta's power, which may be connected to the hand on the mural in Spring that pours the contents of the Cauldron into the void to create Prythian's world. In Herbs she planted, I discussed Elain’s connections to witches and healers (and these categories often overlap, like witches and seers; since the sisters may all possess raw magic, it is not far fetched that Elain could weave sight and healing together as a mystical forest witch would). In that post, I also review how the being we call the Mother behaves a lot like the Other who appears to Yrene in Tower of Dawn. This Other is believed to be Silba, the goddess of healing and gentle deaths. Like the Mother, Silba is also associated with a dark womb, and her healing magic is referred to as world-making power, which brings to mind the hands of creation in Spring.

Yrene, the healer Silba appears to, possesses raw healing magic and it manifests as white light. She uses it to battle Valg magic, which is compared to darkness, void, and hell.

He’d roared around it. His bellowing had been almost as bad as the magic itself. It was a void. It was a new, dark hell. […] She’d hurled her magic against the wall, letting its swarm of burning white lights attack in wave after wave, but—nothing. (tod)

Like water, it seeps into Chaol's legs, and acts like a swarm of fireflies.

Closing her eyes, Yrene let her power seep into his legs like a swarm of white fireflies, finding those damaged pathways and congregating, surrounding the frayed bits that went silent during these exercises, when they should have been lit up like the rest of him. (tod)

Healers' lights are also compared to blooms, and together, they are a field of white flowers.

Blooming lights, along that broken interior. And where they shone... Flesh knitted. Bone smoothed. Light after light after light. [...] Yrene brushed herself along them, waded through them like a field of white flowers, the lights bobbing and swaying in this quiet place of pain. Not lights...but healers. She knew their lights, their essences. (tod)

Her power can also cut through the dark like a weapon, like Hope.

No way to stop Yrene as she plunged into his body, her magic a white swarming light around them, inside them. […] Yrene did not hesitate. She soared through him, down the ladder of his spine, down the corridors of his bones and blood. She was a spear of light, fired straight into the dark, aiming for that hovering shadow that had stretched out once more. That had tried to reclaim him. Yrene slammed into the darkness and screamed. (tod)

Healing magic is repeatedly compared to living things, and we often see Yrene’s raw gift swarm when it attacks the darkness. The term swarm is associated with flying insects, and in particular, honeybees. They swarm protectively when they leave the hive with new life.

“Fire is cleansing. Purifying. But amongst the healing arts, it’s not often used. Too unwieldy. Water is better-tuned to the healing. But then there are raw healing gifts. Like mine.”

“Light,” Chaol said. “It looked like swarming lights, against their darkness.” (tod)

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Elain rose early to accompany Feyre and asked the weaver about the living thread of Hope, especially since this thread resembles the way raw healing magic—living light—behaves in the darkness. We learn that life, in the form of living light, not only pierces the void, but travels through it. Elain is consistently linked to rebirth and the dawn through imagery and her daily routine, rising with the dawn to tend to gardens or help the twins in the kitchen. Dawn is connected to healing magic, and ahappyhermit theorized that Elain may have even healed Cassian’s wounds as Nesta beheaded Hybern in acowar. @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell also theorized that Elain might be a Lifesinger, calling to living things around her as she creates. She is often (if not constantly) creating. Whatever happens in canon, it’s clear Elain is the epitome of living light, of Hope:

Beautiful - she'd always been the most beautiful of us. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn. (acomaf)

She was a rose bloom in a mud field.(acowar)

Even in the middle of winter, she was a bloom of color and sunshine. (acofas)

Her sister's delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. [...] Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health. Elain's smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows. (acosf)

Her brown eyes were bright with tears, but she kept her chin high. (acosf)

Even on the longest night of the year, she glows like the dawn, when light pierces the darkness.

But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The Fanlights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat. (Azriel's bonus chapter)

Nesta placed her symbol, a bloom made in the icy darkness of winter, next to the Mother's figurine on the mantle. The Mother who showed Nesta how to use her raw magic to heal. We learn in tod that healers sense Death nearby when they are called upon to heal someone’s wounds or ease their passing (hence the reference to gentle deaths). And as @psychologynerd reminded me, Elain uses her hands to bring joy and beauty to others, even in death.

Elain quietly washed his face. Combed out his hair and beard. Straightened his clothes.

She found flowers—somewhere. She laid them at his head, on his chest.

We stared down at him in silence. “I love you,” Elain whispered, voice breaking.

Nesta said nothing, face unreadable. There were such shadows in her eyes. I had not told her what I’d seen—had let them tell me what they wanted.

Elain breathed, “Should we—say a prayer?”

We did not have such things in the human world, I remembered. My sisters had no prayers to offer him. But in Prythian …

“Mother hold you,” I whispered, reciting words I had not heard since that day Under the Mountain. “May you pass through the gates; may you smell that immortal land of milk and honey.” Flame ignited at my fingertips. All I could muster. All that was left. “Fear no evil. Feel no pain.” My mouth trembled as I breathed, “May you enter eternity.”

Tears slid down Elain’s pallid cheeks as she adjusted an errant flower on our father’s chest, white-petaled and delicate, and then backed away to my side with a nod. (acowar)

I can’t help but wonder where she might’ve found those white flowers on a blood-stained battlefield. Did she actually find them, or did she will them from the soil with her own magic? I love that she does not balk from death and finds a way to nurture life amid bloodshed.

And like a moth to a flame, Azriel—Death incarnate—is repeatedly drawn to Elain, whose light seems to be able to cut through his shadows. A match in power for the darkness.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hands still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection...that knife. (acowar)

Truth-Teller, a Starborn heirloom, is the bridge between them. It is a bridge of power, where dark and light blend together, creating the harmonious contrast of dawn and dusk. Dark light. @offtorivendell wrote beautifully about how this scene hints at their future, and @psychologynerd suggested it represents an alchemical marriage. I have also wondered what might happen if their powers are joined like their hands in this scene. In one hand, Elain creates joy and life, and in the other hand, Azriel inflicts pain and death. They have also traded roles when called upon, usually in response to the other. This might explain why Azriel’s power also behaves like a dark counterpart to Elain’s, shadows gathering information as her Sight does, twining like her prophetic vine of flowers. They also swarm like the living light of healing when Azriel—or someone he cares about—is threatened.

"Because of the shit with Elain?" Azriel stilled. "What happened to Elain?" Cassian waved a hand. "A fight with Nesta. Don't bring it up," he warned when Azriel's eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath. "I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then." "It's about what I discovered. Rhys said he requires you both there." "It's bad, then." Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. "You all right?" His brother nodded. "Fine." But the shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. Az would speak when he was ready, and Cassian would have better success convincing a mountain to move than getting Az to open up. (acosf)

Elain had a mere fight with her sister and cold-as-death Azriel nearly lost his shit. His eyes darkened and his shadows swarmed him, promising pain. He wasn’t even there to witness the fight, he just heard about it after the fact. Death clearly has it bad for the lovely fawn. And I fully expect to see her living light bring him to his knees. Like a moth to a flame.

#living light #a match in power for the dark #power attracts power #Death and the lovely fawn #twining vines and shadows #swarming light and shadows #like a moth to a flame #Hope and Void #a blend of the two #dark light #elriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #tog healers #maasverse connections #elainarcheronweek2023 #day 7 #elain archeron week 2023

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